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kisekinodrabbles · 4 years ago

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Can we get detective Aomine, who gets assigned a female partner but from the start they're always at each other's throats. During an undercover case, reader has to be super flirty and Aomine gets all jealous and mutual confessions ensues. Maybe some sexy times at the end? :') Sorry if this is too specific, feel free to come up with your own interpretation! I'm such a huge fan of your work Sam and I'm so excited that you're opening your askbox even just for a little while!

ngl idk what im doing here but this is the last request in my inbox so i wanted to finish it haha pls enjoy (not proofread so excuse mistakes) - also my first time writing smut in like years so forgive me!!

Sometimes, Aomine thinks that if he isn’t a law and order professional, he thinks he might actually commit murder and hide your body away in some undisclosed, obscure location. Most of the time, you feel the same way about him.

The two work in different divisions—Aomine in homicide and you in robbery. The two divisions have always been highly competitive especially given how much overlap you both encounter. Things can get territorial, but their teams are used to your snide remarks and Aomine’s verbal assault. It’s just the way the world works.

After all, the two of you were in the same graduating class. You, a valedictorian by books. Aomine, top of the class by combat. It’s natural that the two of you are so competitive with your conflicting personalities.

The two of you may have also fucked at some point.

–

“I’m not fucking working with her, are you kidding me?” Aomine spits out at his boss. Any other person would’ve been kicked out of the room or probably fired, but Aomine is the best detective in his division so Akashi would never do such a thing. For now. Aomine’s been wearing his patience thin.

The red-haired man sighs, folding his hands together atop his desk. “Aomine, I understand you both have had your immaturity in the past. This, however, isn’t the time for such trivial matters. There’s a double homicide downtown during a robbery. She’s the lead for the case on the robbery end because they’ve been tracking a series of these.” Aomine opens his mouth to argue again. “No more buts. She’s already down there getting witness statements. Unless you want to be behind again, I suggest you get in your car and start driving.”

He grits his teeth. Breathe. Don’t strangle your boss, he’ll probably kill you first. “I’ll take Wakamatsu.”

By the time he arrives on the scene, a crowd has gathered behind the police line, snapping pictures in the hopes of getting something Twitter worthy. He growls past all of them and ducks underneath the tape. “Where’s the officer that called it in?”

“Inside talking to the detective.”

“I’m the detective,” he snaps right back, knowing full well you’re already three steps ahead of him. And you definitely won’t let him forget that.

He marches past the thick front doors, Wakamatsu in tow. From a distance, he spots you talking to another officer. When he finally approaches you, he realizes that you’re in a skin tight dress covered by an oversized police jacket.

Your name slips past his lips. “Did we interrupt a hot date?” He smirks.

You whirl around, knowing full well the irritating voice that grates on your nerves. Aomine Daiki. “Unlike you, I have actual friends and actual plans on a Friday night. Did you decide to give your wrist a break for the night?”

Aomine bites back, “Well, it’s not getting much rest either when I had my fingers knuckle deep in something tight and wet tonight.” Complete lie but he’s not about to lose this battle. “Not sure you know how that feels though.”

“If you’re talking about the pudding in your fridge, you might want to ease up on that. Doesn’t look like it’s doing you any favors,” you smile right back at him, knowing full well you’ve won this argument.

Aomine growls low under his breath, jabbing Wakamatsu hard with his elbow when he hears the snort escape him. “Brief me on the situation,” he tells the police officer.

“Well, uh, I already told this detective here—”

“I’m the other detective in charge for homicide. Now, you better fucking brief me before I tell your captain.”

The guy glances at you warily and you just laugh. “Told you he hasn’t gotten any in a long time. Come on, sugar, I’ll brief you on the way down to the vault.” You curl your finger in a gesture to get him to follow you and he sucks up his pride for the first time and do as he’s told. If he solves this case, he still gets the credit and you can go back to that sewer where you came from.

There are two bodies at the vault and forensics are already working to collect evidence when they arrive. “Your area of expertise, double homicide. Both are surprisingly the robbers. Four of them broke in, only two were seen exiting with money bags. No other casualties.”

“Fucking weird,” Aomine mutters. It’s not new for robberies to go wrong, but for two of them to die with no civilian casualty? That’s fucking weird.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” You grin, seeming way too pleased considering there are two dead people in front them. “The ammo is the same as the previous bank robberies in the area. We’re going to assume they’re linked to the Red Dragon clan.”

“Fuck,” he groans, “I fucking hate those guys. Bitches to deal with. Hard to infiltrate.”

You flick your hair over your shoulder, grinning at him. He can’t help but draw his gaze to your neck, a very attractive neck. Now that he notices how tight that dress is, he can’t help but admit that it has been a while since he’s gotten any action. The curves of your breast defined so clearly by the fabric that stretches across the mounds, the flow of your hips, every dip and rise. Your exposed legs further emphasized by your heels. God fucking damn. He feels his pants tighten as he licks his teeth. Get it together, Aomine.

Of course, the clothes do nothing to remove the memory of your nude body from his mind. He’s seen all parts of you some time ago. A drunken mistake that ended in a brief, but extremely satisfying night of passion. Your tight pussy wrapped around his cock, your nails digging into his biceps. He can still picture the sheen layer of sweat on your skin as he rams into you, your broken moans falling from your lips.

“Well, lucky for you,” you start again, pulling him out of the hazy cloud of lust. “I already have someone on the inside. They’ve set up a meeting for me tomorrow night meet with the head’s son. I’ll try to get some information done.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free tomorrow to be your backup. You’re welcome,” Aomine smiles, “Don’t fuck this up. I don’t feel like cleaning up after your ass.”

“I should say that about you, asshole.”

–

Aomine is sat in a dingy van just across the street from the bar you’re having your meeting. You’ve hidden your mic in the perfect spot, a location which you do not disclose to Aomine. However, he has a feeling it’s somewhere promiscuous that he wants to be aware of. They can see the restaurant clearly, their brat hacker Sakurai having plugged into the restaurant’s security cameras.

“Shut the fuck up, Aomine. I can hear you munching on your stupid sour cream and onion chips.” You mutter into your mic before the guy arrives. You sip your wine and take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone undercover but it is the first time to have Aomine behind you while you do so.

The detective looks down at the can in his hands. Sour cream and onion. How did you know? He sets it aside, bringing the mic up to his lips. “Maybe you should do your job better and focus on your meeting instead of listening to me. Why are you so obsessed with me, hm?”

However, a man’s voice on the other side of the headphones has him straightening. “Good evening, I didn’t expect to be meeting a lovely lady like you tonight,” the sleaze says and Aomine can just imagine him kissing your hand. “When Tanaka said I’d be meeting with the right hand of White Claw, I didn’t expect it to be a woman.”

“Well, we are moving up in life, Mr. Ito.”

“Your good looks are certainly quite persuasive. I’m sure there are ways you can convince me to strike a deal.”

Fucking. Sleaze.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly, “what a flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself. I can imagine people fall at their feet for you.”

“Well, I am quite knowledgeable in more ways than one. Perhaps I can show you tonight after dinner.”

The two banter back and forth, trading flirty comments that puts Aomine on edge. You’re supposed to be doing your job and he knows that. He knows this is all an act but you’re a damn good actress.

“Aomine, where are you going?” Wakamatsu’s concerned voice carries through the speaker.

You freeze. This fucker better not screw this whole operation up. “Well,” you say, “this has been a lovely dinner. I’m sure we both can come to an agreement without doing anything reckless.”

The double meaning, a sentence meant for the man across from you and the man listening to you rings clear. Aomine growls, sitting back down petulantly in his seat. He was about to rage in there and start a war, but holds himself back. Be professional, Aomine. Job first, dick needs later.

“The same to you. It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” the man smiles. “Are you sure you won’t join me for the night?”

Aomine snarls low into his mic. Wakamatsu shoots him a weird look. You let out a little giggle and he knows it’s meant for him. “No, thank you, Mr. Ito. I’m afraid I have other commitments to tend to.”

When he knows it’s safe, he storms into the restaurant where you still sit, sipping your drink. Sliding into the seat across from you, he rolls his eyes. “Enjoy yourself?”

He didn’t see when you were set up with the mic earlier so he also hadn’t seen what you were wearing. He’s almost grateful because he knows he might’ve lost it if he did. Tight ass dress, deep neckline that shows ample cleavage (he’s always a sucker for this), sultry eyes, red lips. God, all his favorite things packaged into one.

Your lips quirk up. “The breadsticks here are quite nice.”

“Fucking hilarious. Let’s go.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Unless you want Wakamatsu to hear me fuck you, you better dump that mic and get your ass up.”

You lean back, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”

“Trust me, you don’t have to like my tone to enjoy what I’m going to do to you.”

Licking your lips, you consider your options as you bring the wine back to your lips. “Fine,” you mutter, unclipping the mic from the strap of your dress. Aomine moves faster though, snatching it from your hands and dumping it into the wine. Before you can protest, he already has a hand wrapped around yours, tugging you up from your seat and into the back room.

You’re stumbling in his manic rush, heels barely keeping up with your movements. “Aomine!” You chide as he pushes all the way to the employee break room. The space is fortunately empty and Aomine locks it to make sure it stays that way. “Can you please stop?! You’re such a caveman, I—”

He’s quick to shut you up, swallowing your words with his lips as they slot over yours. He doesn’t waste time, shrugging off his leather jacket as he licks your bottom lip for permission. You gasp a complaint, but he takes advantage of the situation to stick his tongue in, pressing it up against yours.

All your worries fall away into a moan as he separates from you only to gasp for breath and pull his t-shirt over his head. With nimble fingers, he’s unzipping the back of your dress and yanking it down, leaving your top half exposed. Shivering, you’re about to voice your disapproval but your brain seems to stop functioning the second your gaze lands on his tanned body.

Aomine’s always been attractive. No one can deny. There’s a reason why he’s simultaneously the precinct’s most eligible bachelorette and most insufferable jackass. His confidence matches his skills. His looks live up to his brags. Hard lines and shadows are painted on him like a masterpiece in a museum. His broad shoulders make him look even bigger with his height. His jeans that hang just low enough to be tantalizing with the hint of a v that leads to the space between his legs.

Your mouth dries up at the sight and Aomine smirks knowingly. You’ve fallen into his bed before, he can make it happen again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Fifth grade humor doesn’t become you, Aomine.” You scowl as he backs you up against the table in the middle of the room. He effortlessly grabs you by the ass to lift you up and onto the surface, the metal cool against your exposed thighs.

“Did you dress up for me, doll? Knowing full well that this was going to happen,” he grins devilishly, bringing his hands up to shamelessly cup your breasts.

It’s not as if you’re embarrassed for being so bare before him. You’re proud of your body and he damn well knows that. You let him fondle you through your bra for a little bit. “No, you animal. I dress for the job.”

“You tell me you wear this flimsy thing—” he teases the light coverage of your lingerie. The lace is sheer and barely covers your nipples, the material holding onto your breasts for dear life. “—for the job?”

“I do my job right, asshole,” you spat right back. “So are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?”

A wide grin stretches across his face. The heat in his eyes carry to his hands as he works to unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground. Aomine doesn’t waste time as you lean back on your palms, granting him full access to fondle and suckle on your tits. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nubs that have grown stiff in the contrast between the cold air and his warm breath. His teeth graze the sensitive skin hard enough to have you groaning in pleasure. His lips close in around them and suck. He uses his hand to tease and tug your other breast, pinching it to elicit that delicious whimper out of you. Aomine alternates between the two, making sure you stay warm.

Meanwhile, you let your hand fall to the bulge between his legs. He lets out a small grunt at the initial touch but seems to respond favorably to the way you stroke the tent, nudging his hips forward for more friction. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just excited to see me?”

“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” Aomine mutters, both humored and unamused by your comment.

“Fuck,” you let slip as your fingers struggle to unbutton his jeans. “Your fucking pants. Don’t you live in sweats? You choose today of all days to wear your stupid tight jeans?”

Aomine chuckles, “Patience, baby. You know you like my ass in these.”

You do, but you’re not about to admit that. He quickly works off his pants, letting them drop to his ankles as he moves towards you again. While he continues to stimulate your tits, your hand begins groping his cock which is rock hard and peeking from the top of his boxers.

“God, I miss having this inside me,” you whine, pulling the flimsy fabric off and letting it pool on top of his jeans. “Condom?”

“You don’t want me raw? You know you want to feel all of my cock,” he grins. You throw him a glare and he just chuckles as he reaches for his wallet on the floor, pulling out a packet and tossing it onto the table. “But first,” he pauses, letting his hands slide down to cup your pussy, which is admittedly already drenched at that point.

He hisses when he feels your juices drip and coat his fingers. “You’re so fucking wet, goddamn. How long have you been waiting for this?”

“When that robbery happened, I was about to get laid for the first time in months. So fucking sue me,” you snarl at him.

“Well, I am here to please,” he wets his lips. He slips one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he adds another finger and feels your walls pulse around him. He begins pulling it out before shoving it back in, repeating the measure to stroke your walls. He curls his fingers inside as he watches your face closely.

Your expression morphs from irritation to blinding pleasure in an instant. Your eyes slide shut, your lips part to exhale shaky breaths. Aomine seems to know exactly how to angle and twist his fingers to induce a heart attack. The sounds falling from your mouth are ephemeral, Aomine wishes he can film this moment so he can replay it over and over again.

He pumps his fingers into you and ducks his head to take your nipple into his mouth again, tongue circling the tip. “God, you taste so fucking good. I forgot how wet you can get. Don’t even need lube to slide into you, huh? You’re already dripping for me.”

“Asshole,” you murmur weakly, clearly in no place to retort.

“Remember the first time I fucked you? God, you were so easy,” he grins, “you were so wet, so turned on already. Remember when I stuck my tongue in your pussy? Licking up your juices. You tasted so sweet.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, hitching in your throat. “Fuck you, let’s not forget how quickly you came when I sucked you off.”

“I mean, the sight of you on your knees is enough to get anyone off, sweetheart.”

“Fuck me,” you groan. Any rational thought has fizzled from your brain. The feeling of his fingers inside you is enough to consume you whole, overwhelming you in waves of rapture.

“What was that?”

“Dickwad.”

He chuckles darkly, licking his lips again. “Beg me.”

“I’m not going to—”

Aomine yanks his fingers out, looking down at you, taunting you. He waits as you internally struggle with your moral convictions. Are you willing to give up your pride for one night just to get fucked out of your mind?

Easy.

Yes.

“Please,” you huff, “please fuck me.”

“Please fuck me who?”

Your eyes find the ceiling, wondering what in the hell you did in your lifetime to have met the devil that is Aomine. Biting your lip, you lean closer to whisper, “Please fuck me, Da-i-ki.”

The man is a sucker for you calling him by his first name. And to get what you want, you’re willing to play into his hands. Aomine lets out a low growl before ripping open the condom packet and rolling the thin rubber along his length. Your pussy squeezes at the sight. Just imagining what it’s like to have that thickness inside of you, fucking you full, has you on edge.

He doesn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He holds onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy lips, circling it and letting your juices drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his dick, he uses it as a lubricant before he slides himself inside you.

When he’s buried to the hilt, Aomine leans forward and lets his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your pussy is so fucking tight. It’s squeezing and throbbing around him with the engulfing heat. He feels as if he’s going to explode right then.

“Fuck, you really haven’t been screwed in a while,” Aomine rasps.

“Told you.”

Aomine starts off slow, pulling out and pushing back in. With how thin the condom is, he can feel every ridge, every bump in your heat rub up against his cock. The sensations is enough to have his thighs quivering, but he’s not one to back down. He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting deep inside of you repeatedly. HIs mouth latches onto your neck, tongue lapping and teeth nipping to paint purple blooms upon your skin.

His movements are building a bubbling pressure in the pit of your stomach. You feel your heart tightening with every move, your insides squeezing. The absolute pleasure that crashes over you has you breathless, your hands finding purchase on his arms.

He mutters filthy words in your ear, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in your hair. He yanks back lightly, just enough to have you moaning. You like it rough, he’s well aware of that. He pounds into you relentlessly, hands keeping you in place as whimpers tumble from your mouth.

“Fuck, right there, oh god,” you gasp, “fuck me harder. God, your dick feels so good. Filling me up so full with your thick cock.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll be tempted to come in you, baby,” Aomine grazes his teeth along your ear, hot breath kissing your skin. “God, I want to just fucking cream inside you.”

“Better watch yourself, Daiki.”

Aomine grins lasciviously, sweat beginning to bead his forehead as he attempts to keep himself in check. He feels you tighten your pussy, walls closing in around him. “Bitch,” he growls. You know what you’re doing but he’s not about to let you gain dominance of the situation.

So his hands dig deeper into your hips as he fucks you harder and deeper, his cock pulsating inside of you on the brink of his self-control. “I’m about to come,” he says with eyes squeezed shut. If he sees your tits bouncing as he fucks you again, he might actually combust in that second.

“Me too,” you panted, fingers scraping down his arms.

With a few more pumps, Aomine spills into the rubber with a grunt. He feels you convulse around him, your entire body trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. He can feel his come continue to leak from his cock. God, he hasn’t come this hard in a fucking long time.

His heart is thundering in his chest from the impact of his climax. He slumped forward, leaning against you for support—also partially to feel your tits press up against his chest. “Fuck,” he huffs.

“That was good,” you admit to yourself, still breathing heavily as you begin fixing your hair. “We should do that again sometime.”

Aomine just laughs, huffing against your skin. “You’re the fucking she-devil.”

“Says the guy who’s fucking me in the back room in the middle of an undercover operation.”

“Dick first, job second.”

–

Wakamatsu looks at him when he walks into the precinct that morning. “You do realize the captain is going to kill you for fucking up that expensive mic, right?”

Fuck.

#kuroko no basket #knb #kuroko no basuke #aomine daiki #aomine smut #knb smut #knb drabbles #knb scenarios #anonymous #popz

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softboyscully · 4 years ago

Text

Public School Stuff I Wanted to Share

public school is both beautiful and horrifying am i right

so ill just go by the grades i guess

Kindergarten, first year

i did kindergartden at a catholic school in a relativly big city so this one’s got some shit

we went to church every wednesday, me and best friend (lost track of her when we moved, wish we’d stayed in touch, she was awesome) would giggle the whole time, pretty sure we made fun of jesus once, can’t remember why, possibly the hair

i had the nicest teacher, she was (as i remember her) young, blonde, and super sweet, that was the first and last year i ever had naptime

SPEAKING of naptime

i never slept during it

once i found what i remember being a nut of some sort on the ground, probably came off someone’s shoe

i grab it, turn to sarah (my best friend), say something about putting it up my nose

sarah, apparently having common sense, says, “no dont do it!! we’re supposed to be sleeping!!”

i put it up my fucking nose

try to get it out, just push it farther in

im crying a little bit now, that shit hurts

go up to my teacher

“you’re supposed to be asleep!”

“i have a nut up my nose and it wont come out”

teacher tries to get it out, but it wont budge

just. sends me back to my mat

that was it

the art room was tiny

like re-purposed broom closet tiny

there was a copy of the mona lisa in the hallway, someone had drawn ray bans on it with a pencil, never got replaced

there was a creepy-ass basement i went down to after school, we ate cheeseballs and sandwiches with some kind of meat, mayo, and that kinda yellow bread

someone broke his leg down there once, think an older kid threw him at the ceiling or something

we learned how to play Silver Bells with actual bells in music class

Kindergarten, second year

i remember these two teachers as the evil step sister-type look, but it might be my little kid imagination

but seriously they were horrible

we learned stuff in a room that was more middle-school styled, except everything was green or black and it was v dark

me and sarah attained a new friend, john

honestly i think we would’ve stayed friends for a while if i didnt move away

i have two vivid memories

one is of me really wanting to go home, so i walked by the teacher’s desk and did a fake sneeze

they laughed at me and told me to go sit back down

the other is john leaning his chair back and then falling, so me and sarah went to help him back up

it was funny, so he did it again

and again

me and sarah were laughing, had the time of our lives

after the maybe fifth time the teachers said “john can get back up by himself. sit down and stay there.”

one of the reasons we moved was bc i got sent a letter from my fourth grade buddie

most of the words weren’t spelled correctly, many letters were backwards

my mother was horrified

ofc now we know it was probably a learning disability

1st grade

this is when i moved

beginning of school i was ASTOUNDED we didnt have uniforms, one of the best things ever to happen to me

nothing wrong with this teacher, she was cool

thing is i was a little shit

told everyone my dogs died (they did but i was maybe three when it happened, i remember it not)

all my personal narratives were bullshit (only one sticks in my memory, wrote it about celebrating christmas AND hanukkah with my dad’s friends who were jewish, i have never even met those friends)

had a crush on this kid, best friend (she was terrible and helped wreck me emotionally) told me to kiss him in music class. me being a stupid ass bitch, i did it, aND HE GOES TO THE TEACHER AND CALLS ME OUT. at the end of class she gets both of us to stay for a bit, AND I DENYIED EVERYTHING. i walked across the fucking classroom, kissed him on the cheek, ran away giggling, told my teacher i didn’t do anything, AND GOT AWAY WITH IT. i’ve embarrassed myself further with this child but thats another story

2nd grade

i loved this teacher but honestly he was absolute shit

like. all he did was play the guitar and sing with us

never actually taught us stuff???

middle of the year, my mom goes in for a parent-teacher conference, he tells her i dont pay attention is math.

“what do you mean?”

“she doesn’t listen, she just takes out a book and starts reading.”

“........have you.... tried taking the book away?”

“sure, i could try that.”

“o....kay”

he also told her i’d be a girl who’d grow up to love spellcheck (which i do lmao)

like ???? why not just??? teach me to spell????

there was this one dude who one day showed up, gave me a pink stuffed cat, and then asked me where i lived

funniest thing was he lived on the same street as me

something that is vivid in my memory is showing up to class one day and realizing that i was wearing my regular clothes over my pajamas

also we had fish

every day someone else was in charge of feeding them

one of the times it was my job, i grab the fish food and walk over to the tank only to find all of the fish floating on the top

i screamed “THE FISH CAN FLY?!?!?!?!?!”

everyone ran over, all of us scarred for life when Mr. G walks over and goes in the most normal voice ever “no theyre dead”

we held a funeral

the cause of death is still undetermined

3rd grade

this year just draws a blank for me

all i know is that whoever the teacher was, they neglected to teach me how to tell time from a clock

also we learned the Cotten Eyed Joe dance in gym around here

4th grade

i had two teachers this year

one was the same one from 1st grade, the other one was a total bitch

made a girl named hannah ball her eyes out once, never apologized

i was (and am) and avid reader, so my reading skills were high above average

instead of being proud of me she told me i was weird, not normal, and too smart for a 4th grader, so i MUST be cheating.

she was the start of a lot of self confidence issues for me ngl

this was around the time i went and got tested for ADHD (me and my grandmother almost broke down on the highway but thats another story), Mrs. M (the nice one) was super supportive when i told her why i was leaving early but Ms. S (bitch) told me ADHD wasn’t real and i just wanted to be special for once

she sucked, Ms. S

5th grade

this is getting super long so this’ll be the last one i do

but my teacher..... Mr. F was A+++++

he legitimately taught me math

we had i guess like,,, a buddie class we switched with sometimes

the teacher of that class was Mrs. R, who had crazy red hair and many freckles

at one point she referenced a meme and my entire class started screaming

also there was another Mrs. S (to differentiate this one will be called Mrs. Su)

she was kind of crazy

she was the astronomy teacher and she told us many times that the moon landing was faked

once she handed out sunscreen and had everyone put it on their whole body (this was in december, fyi)

Mr. F also hosted an ‘archeological dig’ which sounds cool but in reality he had a bunch of arcade prizes from his childhood buried in little flower pots we dug into with plastic spoons

also heres some stuff i cants pinpoint the time of/happened in multiple grades:

someone held a who-can-scream-the-most-like-a-goat contest

a guy named Makenzie won

remember we planned it while the teacher left the classroom so the teacher walks back in and one by one everyone in the room starts screaming, there was some applause, a few kids got a standing ovation

we cleaned out our desks in the middle of the year, i found 3 socks and a dog treat in mine

like how the fuck did any of those things get there

and where’s the fourth sock

b o t t l e f l i p p i n g

but no seriously there were at least five water bottles stuck in the ceiling in the cafeteria

my sorta friend charlie was obsessed with paper airplanes

one time he might’ve broken the world record for longest time in the air but he was counting in his head and it was at recess so there was no video

four square and gaga ball would be played no matter the setting, time, or conditions and it was super competitive

like if you could get to king in four square you got the everlasting respect of everyone

and everyone was super educated on four square special rules, special plays, that kinda shit

no but guys i grew up with bus stop, candy store, haunted house on mondays, haunted mansion on fridays, zombies was fair game unless it was Zach, Ryan, Chrissy or Vee

me and one other guy named andrew were the only known pjo fans, had the time of our LIVES making refrences

“HEY ANDREW IM NOBODY”

“I HAVE WAITED YEARS FOR YOU, NOBODY, COME HERE AND FACE YOUR DEATH”

“hey annabeth, i thought you looked like a princess when i first saw you. i printed out a picture you sent me casually and kept it with me. i snuck along on a quest so i could save you, endangering myself immensely. i held the sky for you. when you talk about your crush on luke, i get jealous. beckendorf understood, but hes dead.”

“ikr we’re literally the best of friends”

“RIGHT”

also the first time we finished mark of athena we were in the same classroom and we individually dropped the book, stood up, looked at each other, and screamed “WELL FUCK YOU TOO RICK RIORDAN”

#public school #percy jackson #percabeth #my childhood #you dont have to read this but i felt like posting it lol #if you've read this far #i applaud you #thanks for listening to my meaningless shit #im gonna be a comedian #school #school stories #adhd #kind of

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the-is13 · 5 years ago

Text

A Pinch of Salt

Description: You didn’t expect to be working tonight. It was a regular Friday night, or so you thought. Two beautiful men happen to come into the small pizza joint, one with particularly captivating hazel eyes.

Characters: Jared, Jensen, Reader, OFC’s OMC’s

Relationship: Jared x Reader

Warnings: None really, cursing? A bit of fluff

Word Count: 4046, wow that surprised me

A/N: So this is my first fic, I read a lot but have never wrote anything. This stemmed from a dream I had. For the purpose of this fic its set in early stages of the boys filming Supernatural. Jared is a bit younger, late twenties. Him and Gen are friends but nothing more. This purely fiction! I mean no harm to J2 or their families, I love them all the to moon and back. Any hate will not be tolerated. Please be kind and let me know if you liked it!

Beta: A GIANT shoutout to @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 for being a beta and pretty much helping me get this right, haha pun intended. You rock chick.

Oversized t-shirt, fuzzy socks, warm cup of tea, and netflix. That’s how you typically spend your Friday nights since you aren’t one to go out or party. You like your space.You’re content with the quietness of just sitting and reading a good book or just watching netflix by yourself.

That’s how you’d like to be spending this friday night, but alas, Susan called in to work.Again. Apparently her little boy is sick, for the third time this month. You’re pretty sure he’s fine and that she just has a date. It wouldn’t bother you if she would just ask and tell you the truth, but of course, she lies. Well, at least you think she’s lying.

Oh well, more tips for you.

So here you are, at Pete’s Pizza on a Friday night. It's not too busy, but its not slow either. Pete’s is a pretty good place to eat, lots of beer and, of course, plenty of variety on pizza. The owner, and head pizza master, Jimmy, is an amazing cook and is always trying new things to put on pizzas. It's a popular spot. If you didn’t work there, you would probably eat there too.

You’re busy turning in another order for this weekends special; spicy taco pizza with extra jalapenos, when your coworker Nancy bumps you roughly.

“Sorry, y/n!” She went to turn away from you and tend to her own tables when she exclaimed, “Oh! A few guys just sat in your area.” She placed her hand beside her face like she was trying to cover a secret she was about to tell you, but you knew whatever she had to say wouldn’t be quiet. “They seem like a rowdy bunch too.”

You sigh, “Great. First the Johnson’s, now these guys.”

Everyone knew the Johnson’s, they were regulars, the kind of customers you hate: rude, always blaming you for everything, and nitpicking every single thing. od forbid there be an onion out of place on their pizza. They had five kids. Seriously, five, and they were ALWAYS misbehaving. But of course, it was never their fault, according to their parents. You thought differently, they all needed a good whoopin’. On top of it all, they never, ever, tipped. No matter how hard ANYONE tried. It was very taxing to say the least.

Grabbing your pen and paper you waltzed off to table 8 and tried to put on your best smile. You really wanted to make some money tonight, afterall you needed to pay the bills.

“Welcome to Pete’s! What can I..” Looking up from your pad you started to stutter as you noticed who was in front of you. This couldn’t be. You had to be dreaming, it wasn't real. You stared into his hazel eyes, the captivating blues, greens, and speckles of brown. He smiled, oh lord, his smile, so bright and white.

“Wh-what can I start you off with tonight?” You stuttered. Wow, you made a sentence. You were pretty sure you were going to faint.

“I think I’ll have a beer, what ‘bout you Jay?” Oh god, his booming voice, if he spoke another word you might turn into a puddle right then and there.

“Yeah, beer sounds great right now.” said his friend, his best friend. Of course you knew him, well, knew of him.

“I think we’ll just take two beers for now” He smiled politely brushing some hair from his face.

“I-I, I’ll.. be, right.. B-back with those” You smiled back, trying not to sound so foolish, but damn, how could you not? Jared fucking Padalecki and Jensen fucking Ackles just walked into Pete’s, and sat in your area!

You let Nate, the bartender that night, know you needed two beers asap. Then you whipped out your phone to text your best friend, Hannah. You two had been through hell and back, knowing each other practically since birth or before since your moms attended lamaz together. She shared your healthy obsession with Supernatural and all things cooperating. She had to know what was happening. Now!

Y/n:OMG!! HANNAH YOURE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE THIS!!!

She quickly wrote you back, knowing you had to work this evening

H: What’s up? You get a $100 tip or something, ‘cause that WOULD be unbelievable!

y/n: Wow bitch, thanks. NO this is MUCH MORE EXCITING!!

H: Well.. go on with it…

y/n: JARED AND JENSEN ARE HERE

H: …

You’re joking right?

y/n: OMG NO! WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS!? I KID YOU NOT, THEY ARE BOTH HERE SITTING IN MY AREA!!!!!! IM GOING TO DIE!!!

H: BREATHE! You need to be cool, or at least as cool as you can be. Hehehe

y/n: Shut the fuck up, im cool.

H: uhhhhuh you keep telling yourself that.. ;)

You waited for her to be serious, since she probably thought you were joking. The realization of your truth hadn’t hit her yet or else she’d be freaking out as much as you were. You waited, watching her little dots letting you know she was indeed typing back to you. You didn’t get a chance to read it as you were snapped out of your world with your best friend by Nate.

“Eh hemm, y/n, you busy over there, or you wanna take these beers?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. He had been staring at you, watching you frantically typing away on your phone. “OH! Yes, thanks Nate,” you said with a wink. Nate and you flirted all the time but you never really meant anything by it. You were pretty sure he had a crush on you though. You could feel him staring at your ass as you walked away.

Approaching their table you made sure to take some deep breaths. In and out Y/n, in and out, you reminded yourself. With a polite smile you were able to speak, “Here’s your beers, gentlemen.” You didn’t want to seem like the fangirl you were, knowing their names, so you stuck to the informalities. “Are y’all ready to order?” As you smiled once again, trying to keep your excitement under control.

Jensen spoke first this time “Yeah, I think so. That speciality pizza sounds pretty good darlin’. I think we’ll have two with a side of cheesy sticks,” he said before sending a quick wink your way. You gulped, knowing that he definitely noticed you staring at them. Who would blame you though? They were such fine men, and they knew it.

Scribbling down their orders legibly as possible, all while trying not to fling your pen out of your hand like an idiot you chirped, “I’ll put that right in, be out soon”.

You went to grab their menus, meeting Jared’s eyes once more and drowning in the sea of colors, causing you to accidentally knock the salt over on the table. You watched in horror as the top flung off and covered Jared’s lap with salt.

“Oh! My gosh! I’m, so, so sorry! Let me get a towel, I’ll clean this up, sorry.” You rambled. You thought you were playing it cool, but obviously not. You scolded yourself for being so clumsy before you ran off to the kitchen. Handing Jimmy their order quickly, you went around the door of the kitchen to the closet to grab a rag.

Jensen nudged Jared as they watched you run away “Dude, I think she knows who we are. he seemed a little flustered, doncha think?” He hit Jared in the shoulder, noting how he wasn’t phased that his lap was saltier than the ocean.

Jared winced as he rubbed at his arm,”Ow! What?”

Jensen stared at Jared with a ‘are you serious?’ look. “Didn’t you hear me? I think she recognized us.” Jared’s attention had returned to the direction you disappeared in. SNAP SNAP SNAP “Dude, what is your deal?!” Jensen spoke with a little more irritation as he waved his hands in front of Jared’s face.

Jared finally turned to him and stuttered a little “Uhh, yeah, whadya say Jay?”

Smacking his forehead a little dramatically Jensen exclaimed, “Have you heard a word I said? Like, at all?!” He talked louder than he had wanted, drawing more attention to them than he planned.

“Do you really need to shout?” Jared questioned. “I Just wanted to go out and relax tonight and you’re trying to make a scene!” He snapped.

Finally looking down at his lap he tried to gather as much of the salt he could and dump in onto the table. Scooting back in his chair, he stood up to shake some salt off but heard a soft ompf as he stood. He bumped into you, nearly knocking you down.

Now it was his turn to apologize.

Spinning around quickly he grabbed your wrist before you could tumble all the way down, yanking you a little hard as you ended up with a face full of his chest. You couldn’t complain though, he smelled delightful.

You crained your head upwards to look at him, seeing his mouth moving but the words not registering in your head. You probably looked like a fish out of water, jaw slack, eyes wide.

“You okay?” He repeated. Finally, you snapped out of it. Blinking rapidly you managed one word “Yeah..” Jared smiled softly, “You sure? You’re sorta staring at me like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Retreating from his hold, you internally scolded yourself for the third time of the night. This was Jared Padalecki. You couldn’t be looking at him like a damn knight in shining armor. This was not a fairytale. This was real life, or so you hoped. You straightened yourself out a bit “Uhm, yeah, I’m good, so sorry again. Let me clean your table,” you clipped out.

“It’s okay, no big deal really. It’s not like you a-salt-ed me, or anything,” he said giggling, trying to lighten the mood. But failing to contain his laughter from his own joke. Jensen smacked his forehead once again and thoroughly rolled his eyes.

You lifted your head and just stared at him, was he kidding? You couldn’t tell, all you heard was assault. Immediately you assumed the worst, he was going to press charges because you spilled salt. My god how stupid were you! So fucking stupid, you should’ve just stayed home!

“I’m so sorry Mr. Padalecki, please don’t sue me,” you squeaked out. Your voice barely above a whisper, afraid you’d burst into tears on the spot.

Realizing you didn’t take his joke well, he started to back track. Holding his hands up almost defensively. “What? No! I was joking! It was a joke! I’m not going to..” then it clicked, you called him ‘Padalecki’.

“Wait, you know me?” He said with a raised, questioning brow.

“Uhh.. hmm.” Stuttering slightly, your brain went into overdrive to try and explain yourself. But it was working too fast trying to form the correct words. You cleared your throat trying to remain calm and collect yourself. “I guess you could say that, I mean I do watch ‘Supernatural’..” you looked towards Jensen “So yeah, I guess I do know who you are, both of you.”

Jensen’s face lit up “I told you dude! I can always tell when they know!” he exclaimed.

You could feel heat creeping into your cheeks, embarrassed because you thought you were playing it cool. Maybe Hannah was right. You were just a waitress at a pizza joint, and this was Jared fucking Padalecki we were talking about here.

Without saying a word, you began to turn away and head back to the kitchen or to check on your other tables. Hell, almost literally, anywhere but right here.

“Hey…” Jared had snached your wrist once again, “Don’t worry about it, its okay.. D-do you want to take a picture.. Being a fan of the show and all..” he trailed off motioning to Jensen.

“Uh, yeah.. Sure, as long as y’all don't mind.”

They both chuckled lightly, wishing you could hear that sound forever. It was such a beautiful sound, much different in person. “Nah, it's no problem, afterall we try to maintain a good relationship with our fans,” Jensen drawled with a wiggle of his brows. You weren't sure if he was just being friendly, or if he was displaying some of Dean’s flirtiness.

You were still slightly embarrassed as you pulled out your phone quickly, closing your recent conversation with Hannah. You tried to angle your phone to get a good selfie, but you couldn't really capture the behemoth of men behind you. Jared lightly and plucked your phone from your grasp, knowing you were struggling to get a good picture. “Here, let me..”

Click click click

He took a few pictures to make sure you got a good one. You had the the attention of almost the entire restaurant now, since you spilled the salt all over Jared and were now snapping pictures with the two of them.

“There ya go, I’m sure you got a good one.” Jared said handing your phone back to you.

“Thanks..” You trailed off, looking down to try and hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks as your fingers brushed his in the exchange.

“Y/N!! Y/N!!” Mrs. Johnson yelled from across the room waving her hand like the lunatic she is. “Y/N!! Come here!”

Huffing a bit, you quickly said additional ‘sorry’s’ to Jared for making a mess and ‘thanks’ to them both for the pictures. Taking a deep breath, before dealing with the table from hell, you turned on your heel making your way to their table.

Meanwhile, that was the first time Jared had heard your name, y/n. You were too caught up in who you were looking at to introduce yourself upon taking their order. ‘Y/n’ he thought it was a beautiful name.

“Yes, Mrs. Johnson, how can I help you?” You said as you plastered on a fake smile.

“We need more napkins, what do you keep stocked in these things? Two napkins?” she said in a snarky tone while tapping the napkin dispenser. Trying to refrain from commenting on how her children used half the restaurants napkins because they were either such a mess or building a damn castle in the bathroom with them, you made your smile even wider.

“I’ll run and get more right now Mrs. Johnson.”

Turning away from their table you were halted by her grabbing your elbow and not so whispering in your ear. “That performance was horrendous, spilling salt all over that poor boy, just for him to take a picture with you. Pathetic.”

You ripped your arm from her grasp and gave a tight lipped smile, “I’ll go get those napkins now, be right back.” Heading towards the backroom once more, you heard her muttering to her husband how ‘sad and pathetic’ your life was. Like she should give a damn about your life.

Sometimes you wished people would just mind their own damn business and keep their mouths shut. Afterall, that's what you did. You were never one for confrontation. Even as a child, you hated arguing with your older brother or your parents, you just kept to yourself. You never really stood up for yourself. You took the blame for so much, even if it wasn’t your fault or you didn't do it, you took it. You didn't want to upset anyone.

You dropped a huge pile of napkins off with the Johnson’s after taking Jared and Jensen their pizza’s. All while Mrs. Johnson kept nonchalantly whispering about you, either to herself, Mr. Johnson, or ‘non-directly’ at you. It was really tiring.

You tried to keep a smile on while checking on your other customers and, of course, Jared and Jensen. You really wanted to talk to them about the show, their lives, or anything else for that matter. It was still hard for you to believe this was real.

Between the Johnson’s, their herd of children that you constantly cleaned up after, the other customers, and Jared and Jensen, you were feeling a little worn out. Nate could tell, he kept asking if you were okay, to which you always replied with a kind smile, and ‘yup i’m good’. It was nice for him to be concerned about you. He was always a nice guy. He never pushed too far with the harmless flirting, never talked behind your back, and he always made sure you got your tips. It was refreshing after being walked on most of your life.

Jared and Jensen ate their pizza slowly and drank their beer a little faster than they ate their pizza. You kept bringing them refills and could tell they were getting a little loose. Not that you were to judge, it must be hard being famous and all. Plus, you pretty much ruined their evening. They kept smiling at you though, letting you know everything was fine, and damn, were they.

After the Johnson’s finally left and things calmed down a little, you stood behind the bar with Nate making idle chit chat.

“Do you know them?” He asked, pointing to where Jensen was currently laughing at Jared for some joke he made. “I saw you taking pictures with them..”

You were currently making heart eyes at the pair, after all, who wouldn't? They had some damn good genes. You realized Nate was talking to you and not a customer. “Oh, what? Know them? Do you not?”

He just shook his head ‘no’ looking at you like you had two heads. “Am I supposed to?” he questioned.

“NATE!” You said just a bit too loud, causing Jared and Jensen to look your way. You just smiled and turned toward Nate, blocking yourself from their view. “Do you really not know who they are?” He shook his head again peeking around your shoulder to look at them.

You tugged his shoulder and scolded him for staring. Now you were pot calling the kettle black. “They’re famous Nate, that’s Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. They star on the show ‘Supernatural’, it's like the best sci-fi, drama, family show, ever!” He was still looking at you like you were crazy. “Nate c’mon, you've never watched it?”

You could tell he was wracking his brain by the look on his face.

After about a minute, or what felt like it, he finally spoke up. “Hmmm, Jensen… Ackles… I think he was on Smallville right?” You’re face lit up with excitement but you tried to contain yourself. “YES! Yes, he was! He played Jason!”

“Soo, you took a picture with them?” He pondered. You looked a little dumbfounded, would he not have? I mean, what if he was to meet someone famous? Just pass them by? Nate could tell by the way your face was twisting up in that sour look he thought was so cute, you were not pleased with his answer. “I mean that's pretty cool right? You can tell your grandkids you met ‘the stars of supernatural’,” he said a little too sarcastically as he waved his hands in the air like he could see the headlines of it.

You were still a little offended he was making fun of you but laughed it off and lightly pushed his shoulder. “Oh stop it Nate! You’re just jealous.” He smiled a little but then noticed the guys you had been making heart eyes at were getting ready to leave. “Hey..” he pointed in their direction, “I think your friends are leaving.”

Turning around quickly and nearly tripping over your own feet again, you noticed they were started to fight over the check. You could barely hear them arguing about who paid last time and who drank more. Mustering up all the courage you could, you put one foot in front of the other and marched towards their table. They both looked up at you curiously. “Beer’s on me guys, afterall you put up with the disaster I made earlier and were kind enough to take a picture with me”

They smiled widely, both slightly tipsy, you could tell their emotions were genuine, which made your heart flutter.

Jensen spoke first, running his tongue out across his lip, “That’s mighty kind of you darlin’,” he drawled, his southern accent peeking out more from the alcohol.

“Jay stop flirting, you’re probably scaring her! Then she won’t pay for anything!” Jared said with a wink and grin that made your knees weak.

You took in their drunken state light heartedly. They were much more kind than the other guys who would come in, get drunk and try to cop a feel. Not that you would mind if it was them though. You’d let Jared or Jensen feel you up all day or night.

You waved Jensen off, “Its fine, not like I’ll ever see y’all again..” you trailed off, the thought making you a little sad. You had enjoyed watching them interact, even if it wasn’t with you.

Jensen piped up with a smile that would shatter the moon, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, sweetheart”, he winked and was out the door in a flash. That left just you and Jared, standing there like awkward teens at the school dance.

Jared nervously ran his hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck. You were in awe. He looked so beautiful, even with the nervous behavior he was displaying.

“W-would you mind if I asked you for your number?” He stammered

You blinked, what was happening, was Jared fucking Padalecki asking you for your number? You pinched yourself and jumped, he was still there, awaiting your answer.

Noticing your apprehension he began to turn away “It’s fine if you don’t wanna give it to me, I know we just met and all..”

“YES” you replied a bit too eagerly. “I mean, yeah, you can have my number,” you spoke as you grabbed your notepad and quickly wrote it down, handing it to him.

He looked at you shyly, “Thank you, y/n for everything.” He flashed that bright smile and waved before turning to leave.

You stood there for a moment longer, shocked that what just happened, had indeed happened. You gave Jared PADALECKI your number.

Maybe he wouldn’t even contact you, maybe he was just trying to be nice. That was it, he was just being nice, I mean, from what you had seen about them in the media, they were generally nice guys.

You finally moved from your place, noticing that you got off in 10 minutes. You decided to just go ahead and start your cleaning duties and head home. You were wiping down Jared and Jensen’s table picking up a few napkins noticing something written on one. Flipping it over you had to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the gasp that left your lips.

“Y/n, you are too beautiful and kind to be working here, and you are not pathetic. I did kinda like the a-salt though ;)”

Was delicately written and tucked inside was a crisp $100 bill, by far the best tip you’d ever received. Hannah would be eating her words and you couldn’t wait to tell her.

You did the rest of the cleaning and closing with Nate rather quickly. Anxious to get out of there and phone your best friend.

Biding goodnight to Nate and Jimmy, you rushed to your car, about to grab your phone to call Hannah when a little ding let you know you had a text. Figuring it was her, you click the screen to light it up. Of course you had 12 texts from her wondering what was happening and how she needed the ‘dirty details’. Rolling your eyes you scrolled down noticing you had a text from a number you didn’t recognize. Opening it, you could have burst into tears from the fire in your heart.

I loved the pizza, beer and taking a picture with a beautiful girl, hope to see you soon. :) -Jare

Clutching your phone to your chest tightly you sighed and pinched your leg.

Ow, nope not dreaming, you thought to yourself. Now you really couldn’t wait to get home and tell Hannah.

#supernatural rpf #jared padalecki fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #jared padalecki and reader #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fanfiction

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daryls-dixon-antoni · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 9.) Still

Daryl and I run from some of the dead and out through some bushes, and once we get outside into a clearing I notice a car. I motion to the trunk; as I rush to the front to pop the trunk. Daryl gets the idea, and as thunder rumbles overhead helps me get in, he hops in after me and then closes the trunk amd ties it with an old red oil rag.

The thunder rumbles overhead as the dead start pounding and shaking the car.

I feel my chest clenching painfully, and try to breathe through any on coming panic attacks. Daryl notices, and uses one arm to pull me up so that I'm in between his legs, basically laying ontop of the poor man, my back to his chest. He holds his crossbow in one hand and me with the other. I clench my eyes shut and we stay like this all night.

I guess I fell asleep, because I wake up to him moving and notice the trunk filled with sunlight.

But the car isn't moving, and I can't hear any growls around us, so I undo the trunks hood, and we both climb out, I immediately stretch out, my whole body sore from the confined sleeping quarters we'd shared. Daryl comes out after me; and we both start rummaging through the car. Grabbing the things we might need. We do this all in silence. Not a word has been spoken between us since our spat.

As we walk, he begins hunting for food whilst I build us a fire. Then together we make clankers for if the dead get too close to our camp.

Daryl skins the rattle snake he catches; and I cook it on the fire.

Once it's finished, we sit down to eat, and it's honestly not too bad. But I'm getting restless, I need to find my boy. Dead or alive, I need to know. "We need to go," I say.

He ignores me, just like before. "Seriously, I need to find Mason. I have to." He continues ignoring me, so again, I get up and leave by myself.

I walk right towards a small heard of the dead. Of course, just my luck. I throw a stone to try to draw them in the opposite direction, and it works.

Or at least I think it did, until a twig snaps behind me. I spin around, knife at the ready, only to find Daryl. I breathe a sigh of relief, before he turns around and starts walking back to camp.

I think we're going back to pack up, but he sits back down.

"Fuck you!" I snap, turning back around to leave once more, why I even followed this jackass to begin with, I'll never know.

I hear him move, saying, "Hey, you had your fun!" and he grabs my arm, so I pull it out of his grasp.

"I'm not looking for fun, you asshole! All I want is to find my son. To see if he made it and you're just so damn content playing camp; but I'm not! We can't be the only one's who survived, so fuck you! Fuck your negative attitude; I'm going to find my damn son; enjoy your camping trip," I turn on my heels and storm away, pissed off as hell. What a fucking jerk! It isn't long before I hear him come trudging after me. I almost hate myself for feeling relieved.

We make it out of the trees again to see a big golf course, "Someone from the prison could be holding up in there." I point out.

I make my way to the building.

Once we hit the entrance, I hear thunder rumbling over head again and I cringe, I hate thunder storms.

It takes some jimmying but eventually Daryl is able to unlock the locked entrance door.

When we walk in we notice someone had made a mess of the place, and there are dead hanging from the ceilings. People who'd tried to commit suicide. More dead people are laying around the floor.

I notice Daryl shoving money and jewels into a bag, and I watch on confused until we hear the dead pounding on the entrance doors trying to get in.

"Come on," Daryl says as we rush throuth another set of doors that he slams behind us.

I start looking around for anything that we could possibly need later on, flashlights that Daryl had found in the first room turned on as we both search the country club. There has to be food somewhere, I think before I feel one of the dead grab me from behind, the guy dressed as a barkeep. I struggle to take out my knife, and stab the guy right threw the top of his head; ceasing his movements. I turn to see Daryl staring at me.

He shakes his head and just walks the other way without a word.

There's a point where we have to army crawl our way under a knocked over dresser of some sorts, and then we end up in a clothing store. One of the dead was placed on a manican with a sign that reads RICH BITCH on it.

We go through yet another door and just as we pass an old antique grandfather clock; it goes off, spooking us both.

"Okay," Daryl says, and then we turn around to walk right into a group of the dead, these ones moving. We get further into a larger room and Daryl and I immediately go back to back as we start killing the dead, once I put my knife through another one of their heads I turn to see Daryl hitting one over and over again with a golf club until his skull basically explodes.

I notice a bar in front of us, and all of a sudden some alcohol sounds fucking fantastic.

I turn to look at Daryl, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to get a drink."

I see a look of disaproval on his face, but choose to ignore it.

I walk over to the bar to see almost everything is gone or broken.

One bottle ramains, but I'm distracted as glass shatters behind me, Daryl is breaking the glass to a picture frame and then he takes the picture.

"You have your drink yet?" He asks, meeting my eyes.

"I guess? It's no bottle of Jack Daniels, but ... I guess Pink Schnapps will do the trick seeing as I haven't drank anything in over a year."

I uncap the bottle as Daryl starts throwing darts at what I'm assuming is the pictures of the heads of the Club.

I hope he's distracted because I feel the weight of the last few days weighing down on me. Tears start coming to my eyes heavily, and somehow I'm unable to blink them back.

I close my eyes, allowing myself a short cry just while Daryl's distracted only to hear the sound of glass shattering once more. I open my eyes to see the bottle of Pink schnapps broken on the floor.

"Ain't gonna have your first drink in years be no damned peach schnapps." He snaps before approaching an exit door, "Come on." So I follow him once again. A more managable task on our hands. Find us a drink.

Back in the woods we trudge, and we approach a house not unlike the one I grew up in, and my stomach drops.

"Found this place with Michonne," Daryl says.

I follow him, as we approach the house, my heart racing in my chest. Memories of my childhood racing back to me. Memories I've kept at bay for years.

He goes into the shed behind the house and grabs what could only be moonshine from inside, handing it to me. We go inside the house and he pours me a shot in a milk glass.

I shrug and drink it down in one gulp, feeling the burn of the strong alcohol rush down my throat.

I grab the jar of moonshine to pour Daryl a drink only to hear, "Slow down."

I roll my eyes, "I'm not an idiot, this one's for you."

"No, I'm good."

I eye him for a second before asking, "You sure?"

"Someone's got to keep watch." Is his response.

"Okay, suit yourself I guess." I mumble as I pour myself another drink.

"Just drink lots of water," he orders, gruffly.

I bite my lip, and raise an eyebrow at him, "Yes, Sir." I say, before chugging this glass as well.

I look around the house, shaking my head.

"What?" Daryl asks, and I shrug.

"I grew up in a place just like this," I mutter, not making eye contact with him.

"Bullshit," he says. "I may not come from much, but I recognized your hushand. He comes from a whole family of rich folk."

I nod, "He did. I didn't. My dad was a self medicating Schizophrenic who was obsessed with teaching my siblings and I how to survive the Zombie Apocolypse. Funny that he drank himself to death before he could prove himself right; that this really is how the world ends."

"Siblings, how many?" Daryl asks, as he grabs a board to start boarding up the windows, I start doing the same.

"Fourteen, I had four older sisters, nine older brothers and my baby brother. When I married Tyler they all stopped talking to me, said I was betraying the family."

We both hear the telltale growling signalling to us that one of the dead is near by. I step forward, but he raises his hand to stop me, "It's just one of 'em."

I grab my bow, but he walks over and takes it out of my hand, gently. "If he keeps making too much noise we'll kill 'im."

I nod, and notice how close we are in proximity, so I step back, "Now that we're all boarded up for the night, you may as well drink with me."

"Hell, might as well," he agrees, and I smile and hand him a jar of the moonshine.

He sits down in the grungy chair and we do a mock cheers as I sit across from him on the floor, "Home, sweet home," he says.

Later in the night we sit on the floor, our shoulders touching as we sit and talk.

"Did you have any siblings?" I ask him, before taking a drink.

"I had a brother, Merle." I nod a little. "If you came from the likes of this, how'd you meet Tyler, then?"

"After my mom died, I ran off. It was about a year of living on the streets when I was begging for money, or food, or..." I shake my head. "anything really; when Tyler's mom walked past. She offered to buy me dinner and some different clothing. I let her, I was desperate just to be out of the cold. She then bought me clothes, and took me to dinner with her family; Tyler, his sister and father. I don't know how it happened, coming from such different backgrounds and all, but we fell in love. We had three beautiful kids, and," I blink back some more tears, "And I got to live a fairytale for a few short years before the world turned upside down."

We sit in silence for a while before he asks how old I am. I look down at my jar of Moonshine, "Twenty Seven, you?"

He snorts, "I'm gonna take a piss." He stands up and walks to a corner of the house, dropping his jar so it shatters on the floor, causing me to jump.

"Daryl, be careful; we have to be quiet." I chastise.

"Can't hear you!" He yells, "I'm taking a piss!"

"Daryl, please, don't yell."

"What, are you my chaperone now?" He yells, as he starts peeing in the corner.

I look away shaking my head. I know his kind of drunk all too well. But this time, if he were to get physical, I'm not too sure I'd be able to get away like I used to be able to get away from my dad.

Daryl zips his zipper back up and is kicking things on his way back over to me, the dead guy outside starts groaning louder.

"Sounds like our friend out there is tryin' to call all of his buddies."

"Be quiet," I beg, standing up as well now.

Daryl turns away from me to grab his crossbow, "Hey, you ever shot a crossbow before?" I shake my head no. "I'm gonna teach you right now." He comes towards me and grabs my wrist tightly in his, "Come on." He kicks the door open, "It's gonna be fun."

I stay quiet as he pulls me down the stairs and over to the growling dead man.

"Dumbass." He seethes through his teeth, dropping my hand. "Come here, dumbass." He shoots an arrow at the guys shoulder, pinning him to the tree next to the house.

"You want to shoot?" He asks, gruffly.

"Not rea-"

"Oh, it's easy," he grunts, grabbing my shoulder with one arm and pulling me to him, the crossbow still in his other hand. "Come here." He puts the crossbow on my shoulder, "Right corner." He says, taking the shot and hitting flawlessly. He moves me away to reload, and I'm starting to get fed up with him as he repeats, "Come here." And pulls me close again, though this time his arm is practically around my neck. "Eight ball." He shoots directly in the middle.

He pushes me away again, and starts walking towards the dead man, "Come here, Anne. Let's pull these out. Get a little more target practice."

I shake my head, pull my knife out of my pocket, dodge around Daryl; and and stab the poor dead guy right in the head, pull out my knife and round on Daryl.

"What the hell you do that for? I was having fun."

"No! You're being an asshole!" i argue. "What if that was someone we knew from back at the priso-"

"Don't. That ain't remotely the same."

"He was alive once, Daryl. Probably had a family at one point. So it's exactly the same!"

"What do you want from me, girl, huh?" He gets in my face, so I can feel his every labored breath across my face.

"I want you to see what's going on around you! To stop being a dick head and realize that I have a son out there! That you have family out there! But you don't even give a damn about that, do you?"

"Is that what you think?"

"I don't think shit, I know it."

"You don't know nothing."

"I know you're too scared to even think about the possiblity of someone you care about still being alive!"

"I ain't afraid of nothin'." I ignore him, too riled up to give his response the time of day.

"I know that you've let yourself come to some fucked up conclusion that if you don't care about anyone, then you'll be fine. But that's not how the world works; Daryl! You end up caring about people, and they might end up dying, but you can still hope that they don't! Or that the ones you already care about didn't die!"

"How's what I'm doin' any different from you? Huh? Your whole families probably dead and your sat here drinking Moonshine and tellin' a stranger your life story."

"Fuck you, your not even listening!"

"No, you not listenin'! Everyone we know is dead!"

"You don't know that for sure!"

"Might as well be, 'cause you ain't never gonna see 'em again. Carol. You ain't never gonna see Mason again."

"Shut up!"

He turns around, "No! The Governor rolled right up to our gates." His voice breaks, taking me by surprise. "Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped lookin'. Maybe 'cause I gave up. If I'd have listened to you and Carl about shootin' before Hershel died! That's on me!"

"Daryl," I whisper.

"No, And your son. Maybe- maybe if I was faster in gettin' those meds."

I pull him around and hug him, as he starts crying, and then grips onto the back and side of my shirt, holding tightly as he sobs into my shoulder, bending down to do so.

Later that night we sit on the porch of the house, our legs brushing each other, I'm drunk enough I basically don't even care about what had happened earlier.

"Fuck, wish this is how I felt all the time."

Daryl looks at me and hums, "You're lucky you're a happy drunk."

"Yeah, some people make real asses of themselves when their drinking," I tease.

"Yeah, I'm a dick," he uses his knife to shank the wooden post holding the porch up and then looks at me, a smirk on his face, "when I'm drunk."

I push his knee playfully and he grins before his face turns serious, "Merle had this dealer. This janky little white guy. A tweaker." Daryl itches his arm, "One day we were over at his house watching TV. Wasn't even noon yet and we were all wasted. Merle was high. We were watching this show and Merle was talking all this dumb stuff about it. And he wouldn't let up. Merle never could. Turns out it was the tweaker's kids' favorite show. And he never sees his kids, so he felt guilty about it or something. So he punches Merle in the face. So I started hitting the tweaker," he moves his hands in a punching potion, "like, hard, hard as I can. Then he pulls a gun, sticks it right here," he touches the side of his forehead. "He says, 'I'm gonna kill you, bitch.' So Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone's yelling. I'm yelling. I thought I was dead. Over a dumb cartoon about a talkin' dog."

I watch him closely, "What happened then?"

"The tweaker punched me in the gut. I puked. They both started laughing and forgot all about it."

"But you didn't. Because that isn't something you forget about."

"You want to know what I was before all this?" I nod, "You were right. I was just drifting around with Merle... doin' whatever he said we were gonna be doin' that day. I was nobody. Nothin'. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother."

"What happened to him?" I ask, softly.

"We were together for some of this. Then he got himself handcuffed to a roof by Rick, he cut off his own hand before we could get to 'im. Then he joined the Governor. He's dead now."

"Do you miss him?" When he doesn't answer I fall into my own childhood story.

"My dad used to have us kids learn every bit of fighting he could get us into for free. I learned how to walk on broken glass, nails, anything that could hurt your feet. I could do it without cutting myself by the age of eight. Two of my siblings were out of the house by the time I came around, but there was still thirteen hungry mouths to feed, and as soon as we'd hit twelve we started working to pay rent and buy our own food. But we kept up on the Zombie Bootcamp; that's what my brother Dave used to call it. I could hunt, skin and cook a deer when I was only ten. I was raised to live in this world, yet..." I sigh, "I thought somehow Tyler and I'd find a safe place? Raise our kids, maybe they'd fall in love themselves and have their own kids... I'd become a grandma someday, Tyler would be old and grey." I shake my head, "Dumb right?"

"That's how it was supposed to be."

"Out of all my siblings, I shouldn't have been the one to live."

"You did."

"I don't have the heart for this world. You somehow manage alright, and I wish I could."

"I'm just used to it, things bein' ugly. Growing up in a place like this, you get it."

"We got away from it."

"I didn't."

I shake my head at him, "You did."

"Maybe you got to keep on reminding me sometimes."

"I can do that," I smile, and we lock eyes for a moment, my heart skips a beat, and I look away, feeling myself blush. "But I don't think I'll be around too much longer, so start remembering it quick."

"Stop."

"Serious, if I can't find my son," I shake my head, "I'll have nothing left to live for."

"You ain't a happy drunk at all," he comments.

"You're right, I'm usually a flirtatious drunk."

"Right, then what's this?"

"A bad buzz," I tease, before becoming serious again. "Don't let your past define you, Daryl. If you stick your head in a place like this, it'll eat you up inside. You have to try and forget it, your childhood traumas."

"What if you can't?"

"You keep blaming yourself for things you didn't do. You let guilt and anger build up until it kills you. So not letting go isn't an option."

"I think I'd prefer the flirty drunk."

I smirk, "Nah, emotional drunks can be fun too."

"Yeah, fun." He says, sarcastically.

"Hey," I say, and go to push his leg again, but he takes my hand right before I can.

We stay like this for a few minutes, eyes locked, his hand holding onto mine before he breaks the silence while letting go of my hand, "We should go inside."

"Or we could burn the place to the ground; be all symbolic and such."

He stands up and takes my jar; he then stops in the doorway, "We're gonna need more booze." We exchange smiles.

We go inside and ransack the place, throwing alcohol on every single object there is. When we get outside, he offers me the matches, "You wanna?"

I shake my head, "I've burnt my past. It's your turn."

He nods, and lights the match, throwing it at the building which immediately bursts to flame.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #season 4 #chapter 9

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pwnyta · 6 years ago

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Full Endgame spoilers/review:

(TL;DR: It was really fucking good. Theres some bad obviously but overall worth it. Even after reading the spoilers and feeling like I may not like it as much as I thought I would... I actually liked it more.)

- - So as I said I loved the movie I had some gripes but overall I thought it was one hell of a fun, entertaining movie. I'll go by each characters story in my review saving Cap and Tony for last.

Natasha- Honestly? Though I think the MCU dropped the ball on the 0G6 being a believable family... I think Nats role in this movie was sweet. I really like the scene where Tony Nat and Bruce were laying down talking about Strange and the stones. It was really cute but it really made me wish we got to see this earlier. Joss dropped the ball hard in AoU. Ive said it one and I'll say it again. AoU should have been the movie where the Avengers were a solid unit throughout the movie.Nats death was... heroic but honestly her and Clint beating the shit out of each other because neither could stand the thought of the other being sacrificed was kinda funny and cute which is jarring to the story. It kinda sucks that she was fridged before the final battle though.

Clint- What are the fucking odds that every one of his family was dusted? But w/e. Clint having a wild sword battle in Japan... it was ridiculous and weird and IDK what they were thinking with that scene but it was played really dramatically but I laughed? Cuz it was so over the top and silly... even though he just slit that guys throat and Nats like :c Clint~ honey no its fine... and they hold hands over the guys warm corpse. LMFAO WHAT!? Im at least happy his kids got him back if nothing else.

Bruce- ... Bruce with Hulks big green body? NICE. Thats gonna have some interesting fanart I can already tell and I lift my glass to you. I once tried to draw a little comic where Bruce and Hulk separated but also had swapped bodies.... so Bruce had Hulks body but I never did finish it I wonder if I still have it saved somewhere. Anyways. Honestly? I found Bruce in this movie to be equal parts funny and annoying? Like it was a bit jarring sometimes that he was so lighthearted despite everything.

Thor- When I read the spoilers I thought I was gonna really dislike Thor but watching it I understood where Thor was coming from and I couldnt really blame him for spiraling and its not like anyone close to him seemed to even check up on him despite clearly knowing where he was. Im really sad that it took all those years and only until he was needed for someone to try and talk Thor through what he was going through. Im not annoyed with Thor. Im annoyed with the rest of them (minus Tony and I guess Clint? Considering.). Bruce was his friend in Ragnarok, Nat keeps talking about them being family, and Steve is their leader where the hell were they? Unless im missing something... I guess Valkyrie too but shes been picking up his slack as a leader and was holding the Asgardians together so I can cut her some slack. ANYWAYS. Thor was kinda funny in the movie but it was kind of hard to enjoy his goofiness. It kind felt like Tony in IM2. Speaking of Im glad Tony seemed really tolerant of Thors drunk behavior... I was sure he would throw a lot of shots like Rocket did. I wish they had a moment to talk about Thor self medicating with booze... Tonys been there. I get why they couldnt really but.. His scene with Frigga was really nice. Frigga is a bad bitch raised by witches and shit.... she knows all~ A wise woman that Frigga.

Scott- HOLY SHIT Did I love Scott in this movie. He was soo funny and cute... and bullied a lot. You know I have a thing for easily bulliable character. And Scott just got spanked left and right. His helpless goofiness reminded me of Harry from KKBB a little. He bounced off everyone well and it makes me kinda wish he was one of the OG6 instead of Clint. He was more of the heart that kept the Avengers together than anyone. Also him and Tony talking about Caps ass? HILARIOUS. Bisexual icons honestly. 'That suit did nothing for your ass.' 'No one asked you to look!' 'I think you look great Cap as far as Im concerned thats Americas ass!' and then later Caps all 'That IS Americas ass.' Unbelievable. But his best scene is still him reuniting with Cassie. She was so big! Im so happy she got her dad back... but Bruces failed time travel machine scene.... that was a close second. 'Somebody peed my pants... idk if it was baby me or old me........ or me me.' Also the 'whats up regular sized man' scene is longer and more hilarious than the preview showed. FUCK YOUR TACO SCOTT. At least Bruce is nice to him. I ship GreenAnt a little. Rocket petting Scott and mockingly calling him a puppy. SAME.

Rhodey- JESUS RHODEY. Speaking of hilarious idiots. Im glad he got a bigger roll in this movie but he didnt hug Tony when he got back so whats the point? BUT W/E... He was hilarious and amazing. It was nice to see him step up as one of the sorta leaders after the snappening. But he was also A HUGE FUCKING DORK THE ENTIRE WAY THROUGH. Thinking that a secret cavern with a spooky name would be boobytrapped like in Indiana Jones and trying to convince Nebula to be careful. Naming a bunch of shitty time travel movies to prove a point about time travel (with Scotts help) and going back in time to kill baby Thanos...and Bruce was like 'yeah... no...' and him fucking TRASHING the magic of the iconic opening scene of the first GotG where Quill is dancing.... 'so hes an idiot?' RHODEY PLEEEEAAASSSEEEE have mercy. Him and Nebula are a trip. Also I made a note to mention Don Cheadles BEAUTIFUL soft voice. So here it is. I love Don Cheadles beautiful soft voice. He had too few scenes with Tony but their first scene when Tony starts freaking out and hes trying to get Tony to calm down was pretty good... and god that ending.... ;-; How come Rhodey got NO lines while Tony was dying? But also in the same position I dont think Id have any words either. I too would just cry. And did... for Tony. But yeah besides his lack of scenes with Tony I really loved Rhodeys scenes. I usually do. Hes adorable.

Nebula: Sweetie... You are just amazing. Shes legit one of the best most solid characters in the movie. The opening scenes between her and Tony? FUCKING adorable. Im sad we dont see more of them after the time skip. I also wish we got a longer scene of Neb and Rocket talking when she gets to earth... I guess just seeing them sit together sadly was enough to portray the emotions but.... I MEAN. More Nebula wouldnt hurt anyone. Having to see two tortured versions of Nebula was upsetting. Future Nebula who lost so much and past Nebula still under Thanos' thumb. 'You can change!' 'He wont let me' OOF. Im sad that past Nebula was killed... but appreciate that even in that moment past Gamora was upset to see her be killed. Im glad with Present Neb, Gamora was so easily heel-face turned. She loves her sister. Also their moment after past Gamora beats up present Quill was hilarious 'Really? This is the guy?' 'The choices were him or a tree.' WHAT ABOUT DRAX, NEBULA?! I know I said I may not watch any MCU movies after this but I might tune in for GotG3 for Nebula (and Thor).

Steve: I actually ENJOYED Steve in this movie for the most part. For the first time in any movie... even by himself I kind of enjoyed Steve. Especially the scene when hes fighting himself and his past self says 'I can do this all day' and hes like 'Tst... yeah I know... okay' Like he was sick of his own damn bullshit. And frankly? Same. Also him whispering 'Hail hydra' to get the scepter? Hilarious. I cant help but see it as a knock at that shitty Hydra Cap comic that everyone hated. But despite me enjoying Steve for most of the film... the MCUs inability to write a good romance and pretending like Steve and Peggys relationship was a peak or something completely undoes it all. It would still NOT BE GREAT regardless but the fact the RUSSOS are the ones who brought Sharon into TWS in the first place makes it SO MUCH WORSE that Steve dipped out. Steve should have moved on... even if it wasnt with Sharon. They could have at least MENTIONED HER but they knew they couldnt because then it would be too highlighted that Steve is a fucking FUCK BOY who used the niece of the woman he loved as a surrogate and that him going back to the past means hes gonna be meeting little Sharon at some point. Also? Really? Steve you have this whole new family you supposedly love and can live your life with but you rather go back in the past because the first woman who was nice to you was there? Move on. Its so fucking weird that hes so obsessed with her. You have your childhood friend and the rest of your new friends... and supposedly a girlfriend. IDK how anyone could be happy with that ending for him. But I guess its in character... remember the note he sent Tony 'I've been on my own since I was 18.' What about Bucky? He was there with you and you had family in the Avengers supposedly. Natasha seemed to think so. YOURE SUCH A FUCKIN SCUMBAG STEVE. Jesus.

Tony: First of all Id just LOVED his scenes with Nebula as I said. He sat there patiently teaching how to play paper football and held her win. It was REALLY cute. When he passed out she picked him up off the floor and sat him down on the chair and pat him. REAL CUTE. He nicknamed her 'The Blue Meanie' its cute and he tried to give her the last of their food but she insisted he eat it. Bobbos eyes never looked more gorgeous than in that scene where Carol finds them honestly. Tonys I told you so was really really sad. It had a lot of feeling like that scene in AoU when he laughs hysterically and starts ranting? Rhodey tried to calm him down but he just ripped into Cap. Also he yanked off his arc reactor and I FULLY JUMPED IN PANIC because I forgot it wasnt in him. I fully flinched. But he pulled his heart out and gave it to Steve and then passed out. Tony and Peppers daughter is ADORABLE. And her interactions with Tony are so sweet. Domestic Tony is lovely. I love that when Steve and the gang roll up on him Morgan runs out during their discussion and is like 'Mom told me to come and save you....' and hes like 'Well Ive been saved!' REAL CUTE. Also he swore and his daughter copied him and hes like NOOOOO!!!!!!! LMAO. LANGUAGE Tony. Tony is motivated to fix things seeing that pic of him and Peter. Hes such a softie. IM REALLY REALLY SAD that we finally see Pepper kinda GET Tonys need to be Iron Man and is like 'But could you rest?'. The one time she encourages him to go back to be Iron Man and he fucking DIES. Im so sad for Pepper. But that scene between them where shes like 'We'll be ok.... you can rest now.' FUCK. Im crying again. That scene between him and Steve- 'Someone shoula warned you~' 'You did...' 'Oh did I? Thank god Im here' has the same energy as 'Who taught you how to dance?' 'You did.' 'Well Ive done a marvelous job!' It was pretty great. Tonys nicknames for Scott are 'Pissant' and 'Thumbelina.' Im not OVERLY fond of his scenes with Howard. But honestly? My brother is the same way with our dad... he just chooses to forget the bad stuff and focus on the few good times. I cant do that but if it made Tony happier then VERY WELL. I wish Tony coulda talked to Jarvis too tho... just a word... anything? Best Tony scene is Peter babbling about how he musta passed out because Tony was gone and and and and Tony just hugs him so tightly and Peters hugs back and is like :D 'this is nice'! Though that STARK contrast of them after Tony uses the gauntlet... and Peter is like 'Mr Stark... we won... we did it... no Mr Stark...' Big Simba and Mufasa feels (and kind of Hughes and Elicia tbh). Not cool Disney. I was already crying. Rhodey was the first to reach Tony and Tony couldnt say ANYTHING to anyone and Rhodey just pets his cheek... Tony was just looking around as his family just has to watch helplessly as hes dying and Pepper tells him its ok. His funeral was really nice. He recorded a message for everyone kind of like his message for Pepper on the ship. Everyone was there... I think even Harley (Im really sad we didnt see them get reunited even once). The scene with Happy and Morgan was really sweet. 'I'll buy all the cheeseburgers you want....' It was cool to because... ya know.... Jon Favreau. He got a really beautiful end. I wish he could just retire and live with Pep and Morgan... but if he had to die... that was a really lovely sendoff. SO ALL IN ALL. Awesome movie. I didnt get to see past elderly Steve passing the shield off to Sam... I'll have to rewatch it again when theres a better version. Especially for that fucking STUNNING end battle. Even with the shitty cam I watched it looked AMAZING and I cant wait for it in HD.

#Endgame Spoilers

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wakasagayhime · 6 years ago

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very long, very personal post

tldr, im still not drawing but here’s a detailed account of everything that’s happened in case anyone is confused or misinformed

alright. let me start out by saying i’m not going back to art just yet. it still hurts to do anything art related and i’m still trying to find a way to heal from all of this. i need some kind of professional help first, and i don’t know how long it’ll take afterwards for me to begin feeling like myself again. i don’t even know if i’ll be able to get any kind of professional help at the moment; my university’s counseling center told me, in short, that i’m so mentally ill that their services would not be enough for me and i’d have to look elsewhere (which is reasonable, tbh, they’re almost always completely booked so it’s difficult to actually even talk to someone there in the first place, i only got to talk to them to begin with because i nearly killed myself one night after having the most intense panic attack of my life where i felt like i was actually in the process of dying) and as if that weren’t enough, if you follow me on twitter you’d know that my mom finally left my stepdad, but this means that we no longer really have a home to call our own and are now living with some of my mom’s friends. on the bright side, miso is a lot freer and gets to explore the house as he pleases, but on the downside money is tight and my mom is trying her best to find a place to live while working two jobs and trying to help pay for my tuition. long story short, i want some kind of professional help badly, but all the bullshit that’s been happening in my life makes that difficult.

anyway, i understand that i’ve worried a lot of people through all of this, and i’m sorry. i truly, genuinely am sorry for everything that’s been going on. i blame a lot of it on myself not being strong enough. if i were stronger, i wouldn’t care about some stupid internet trolls, or some random grown man in florida stalking all my social media. if i were stronger, i could take my life back. i wouldn’t feel the need to constantly contemplate suicide, or to torture my own body by starving because of my physical form feeling like the only thing i have left to be in control of. if i had only been stronger, like my old stupidly foolish overconfident 16 year old self who got into fucking STEVEN UNIVERSE DISCOURSE of all things, maybe i wouldn’t care. even when it first happened to me, after the initial shock and hiatus, i was pretty much back to normal almost instantly. but this kind of trauma is sneaky and will gradually eat away at you more and more while you pretend to be ok, and then eventually you reach a breaking point and it’s taken over your life. that’s why i’m still obsessing over that day two years later. that’s why i can’t be left alone on december 13th this year, or else i know for a fact i will harm myself in some way. (don’t worry about that though, burger is going to hang out with me that day and i’ll be fine.) still, even though i keep telling myself my past self was stronger, i do know that she really wasn’t. she was still struggling with depression, anxiety, and self harm issues. maybe it just manifested differently for a while. maybe she felt unstoppable at some point in time because she finally found a girlfriend and got a cat. i got into so many fights that weren’t worth my time or energy at all, and part of me wishes i could be that confident again, but i also know that was my downfall to begin with.

i have followers who haven’t been around for longer than a year or maybe less than two, so i might as well give everyone a true, thorough rundown of what happened leading up to that day, the day of, and after.

i’m sure a lot of you who are worried about me at the moment have seen the recent callout for colboh and his involvement in what happened. i’ll be honest--i don’t know the full extent of his involvement, and i want to believe his foolishness ends at not leaving artists who have blocked him alone and uploading their shit to booru sites when they explicitly state not to. so let’s just start there. i honestly don’t remember if it was before or after i first blocked him, but he uploaded one of my NSFW drawings to danbooru when i first shared my NSFW blog. (PROTIP: if you’re a minor, don’t share your NSFW art with anyone. don’t care if you’re 17, i was about to turn 17 myself. it will bite you in the ass. as such, some of this is my fault.) i quickly contacted danbooru asking them to delete it, and they did--but that artwork subsequently ended up on gelbooru as well, and i was unsuccessful in my efforts to remove my art from there.

fast forward to december 13th, 2016. it was a normal morning. i was getting ready for school, but also being dumb and lazing around in bed browsing tumblr. i saw a post from a blog that shares Funny 4chan Screencaps. my art was in it. the art was of a very muscular yuugi, a drawing i was proud of, especially in how much gay energy i thought it radiated--but this drawing was being used in one of those typical “here’s a touhou, i wanna fuck her! am i right guys? let’s talk about how badly we want to fuck her” threads. seeing my art used for this was appalling. my first mistake was reblogging the post and saying how it was wrong, and how my art shouldn’t ever be used for such a purpose. my second mistake was making a text post AND tweets expressing my disgust at the situation, thinking no one who frequented /jp/ would ever see, sure that it would be a big waste of their time to concern themselves with some random dumb “”sjw”” artist. i also probably shouldn’t have specifically called them “gross neckbeards,” in doing so i absolutely struck a nerve with basement dwellers everywhere. i got to school and during my second period class, suddenly felt a strange urge to look at /jp/. why i did that, i still don’t really know. maybe i was expecting hate. maybe i was trying to see if they used my art for something gross again. i don’t know. either way, that moment changed everything forever. i saw the screencap of my tweets posted for everyone in their circlejerk to see. even worse--i looked in the thread, and someone had also posted the NSFW art colboh had uploaded to danbooru, mocking it and calling me a hypocrite for drawing two girls having sex while also saying i don’t like my art being used for those kinds of threads. this is what truly ignited the amount of hate i saw directed towards me in the threads. i got called a bitch, a drama whore, got told to kill myself, and in one reply etched into my mind forever, someone said something along the lines of “we should all call her local gang and have them rape her, she just needs a good dicking.” there were multiple threads, too; i don’t know how many, but there was another one about me after the first one was deleted, in which someone edited a typical fat balding NTR hentai doujin style man into art i made of kagerou nosebleeding at wakasagihime. more disparaging comments were made. in both threads, people expressed their hatred and dislike of my art, some calling it garbage, some just saying it’s “bad,” etc. some people said the threads were unnecessary and rude, but they were a kind few in a cesspool of violence.

i don’t know who started these threads. i can’t assume anything about anyone, but whoever did this was definitely looking through all my social media out of bitterness and hatred, or perhaps even following me on both my tumblr and twitter considering the timing of the threads immediately after i complained. it eats at me that i most likely will never know who did this to me. i’ll never know who hated me so much that they decided to completely destroy my self esteem. if whoever it is who did all of this is reading this and feels any ounce of remorse, i’m begging them to reveal themselves and why they did it, but i know the chances of that happening are incredibly slim. someone, i can’t remember who, maybe it was queenly, told me they hope someday i reach a point where i don’t have to worry about that because i won’t care in general, but i still don’t know if i’ll ever reach a point where i stop caring about all of this.

like i mentioned earlier, after this all first happened, i was destroyed. the next day, my school’s GSA happened to have a vote for whose art would be on the club t-shirts, mine or someone else’s. mine lost. i broke down completely--anywhere i went, i wasn’t good enough, not for anyone. for days, there was a constant feeling of horror and fear in my chest, something i’ve only ever felt so intensely when one of these threads resurfaces or i suddenly relive my trauma due to other things triggering me. i took a hiatus that lasted a few weeks, i believe i came back sometime before the new year. i thought i was ok, and i pretended like i could go back to being myself. but as time went on, and i continued living with the weight of that day on my back, i became weaker and weaker. i stopped drawing as frequently as i used to. my final year of high school started and i ended up falling into such a deep depression that i constantly skipped school and eventually attempted suicide in november 2017. the suicide note i wrote cites that day as being one of the main things leading me to my decision, telling whoever did this to me that i hoped in my passing they’d have to live knowing what they did to me. my attempt only failed because i swore to take every pill left in the bottle and there were only four pills. had it been full, i’m not really sure what would have happened. i was sent to a mental institute afterwards for a week. being there was the absolute definition of hell. i was alone. i cried myself to sleep every night. they claimed to be a place where people were improved and got help, but i did not get any help at all. they basically imprisoned me for trying to kill myself. when i got out, i was only glad to be alive because i just wanted to be able to talk to my friends, my family, and my girlfriend again. it still shocks me that i was able to graduate from high school considering how much school i skipped before and after my suicide attempt.

sometime before that school year ended, i became extremely upset one afternoon and decided to run away from home. i had what happened to me and what was said about me that day running through my head. i tweeted that i hoped maybe in running away i’d end up being raped like they wanted, like how i deserved. someone who i considered a friend replied to this with, “fuck you.” after all of this was taken care of and i was safe at home, i responded that i was sorry, that i wasn’t thinking right when i made the tweet. she responded that i was, and blocked me. i tried to explain that i said what i did because of the threads about me on /jp/ and the one response threatening rape, but this was disregarded and, seemingly, ignored. a few days later, the former friend in question started sending me anon hate on tumblr, asking me why i want attention so badly, accusing me of making light of actual rape victims by saying such a thing. i explained myself, but to no avail. i blocked her on tumblr, and left it at that. but then, at the end of the school year, when i was proud of myself for finally getting through high school without killing myself or failing or anything, i stumbled upon the second thread. the date the thread was created lined up exactly with the time between me running away from home and me receiving anon hate. she can try to act like she didn’t make the thread all she wants, but i’m not an idiot. the replies were also eerily similar--people in the replies remembered me, a year and a half after the original thread. some replies mentioned me having attempted suicide months before. some mentioned my NSFW art again. i had a massive breakdown and nearly drowned myself in the pond down the road. it was a wet, rainy night, and i sat on a bench by the pond sobbing loudly, trying to find some way to want to keep living. but i couldn’t. i might have gone through with it if it hadn’t been for burger coming and talking to me and giving me a ride home.

entering college, i thought things would be easier. in a way, they are. i have more freedom with classes. this semester, i attended almost all of my classes, almost every day, just with the exception of me being sick some days and me accidentally oversleeping once, and then one day when i just didn’t feel like it. but things continued to get worse for me--i developed an eating disorder for many reasons, one being the time i spent a year prior depressed caused me to gain a significant amount of weight, and the other being i had sworn off self harm in the form of cutting. i found that i was able to get the same gratification from starving myself. at one point, it turned into a game of sorts, where i tried to see how long i could go without eating anything. my record was a little over 72 hours. being constantly hungry or in pain this way felt like something i deserved in a way, but also something to distract me from the pain of realizing i was losing my love for art. i was in denial about it for months. i tried to keep drawing, but everything i drew upset me, saddened me, and even angered me. i looked at anything i made and only felt disgust. it was the one thing i used to love doing more than anything, and now i only felt shame.

in november, i acknowledged this and decided to quit for good. recently, i discovered colboh had uploaded more of my NSFW art to gelbooru, even though i specifically stated on my blog to never upload my NSFW art to image sharing sites, specifically right after he uploaded my art the first time. by the time i found this, i had already sworn off art for good, but looking at the comments on my art on gelbooru (and rule 34--i guess they’re connected upload-wise like danbooru?) filled me with so much sadness and shame, not because they criticized my art, but because they said horrible things about my depiction of kagerou. for those who don’t know, i headcanon kagerou as a trans woman, and one thing i do not regret about my time as an artist is how that depiction has helped numerous trans women feel good about themselves and their bodies. seeing so many disgusting comments deliberately misgendering her and making other transphobic remarks hurt me on a completely new level. my trans friends have been such a source of strength for me through all of this and seeing that made me feel disgusted, especially with myself. i felt like i had failed them. i had made so many trans women happy, only to see a man i blocked two years ago had uploaded my art to porn sites, tagging it with dehumanizing words like “f*ta” that i specifically tell people never to refer to my art with, displaying that art for the exact same crowds of people that ruined everything december 13th 2016 to continue to pick apart. one comment even told me to kill myself, effectively bringing back every memory of that day.

speaking of that, another thing i want to touch on now that i’m up to speed with the details of everything that’s happened related to the original threads two years ago, is kagerou. i’m positive you all know that i really love kagerou imaizumi, and that she’s my favorite touhou character. it’s embarrassing to say, but she’s brought me so much comfort through all of this. sometimes if i’m sad, i’ll imagine her giving me a big hug, or i’ll look at cute pictures i have saved of her, or something along those lines. it’s pretty cringy for a fictional character to make me happy, i know, but i’ve grown so attached to her and she really means a lot to me. and another thing that made me want to swear off art is because she’s loved by so many others that i don’t think my depictions of her do her any good. i’m constantly compared to other artists, and it’s never good. even in the threads, i’m told i should be more like those other artists and these things wouldn’t happen to me. i am not allowed to love kagerou imaizumi. i draw her as a hairy trans lesbian, and that disgusts people. hell, the fact that i draw lesbians in general disgusts people, which sure fucking sucks because i constantly hate myself for not being attracted to men and being able to draw happy lesbians made me feel better about myself. but i’ve ruined kagerou for so many people, especially with my stupid kagewaka bullshit. maybe that’s why those artists unfollowed me. maybe it’s a combination of that and my constant breakdowns becoming far too annoying. i think all the popular artists who used to like me and then unfollowed/softblocked me are really glad to see that i’ve given up. and that’s something else that saddens me too--even as an artist, in my own community of touhou artists, i often feel like i’m lesser, and that i don’t belong. maybe it’s because i’m so foolishly outspoken about my opinions that they dislike me. maybe it’s because i’m a woman, and a lesbian at that. i don’t really know why they hate me so much. i wish i could belong somewhere.

and i think that’s what it all boils down to in the end. i’ve lost all sense of belonging. when i was 14 and people started noticing my art for the first time, i finally felt like i had something. like i belonged somewhere. after being bullied through middle school and having to deal with abusive friends and an abusive dad, it meant the world to me that i finally had something. but it didn’t last long at all. it all came crashing down, not just because of others, but because of me. i was the one who was cocky, getting into fights that weren’t worth it. i was the one who provoked people and made them hate me. i was the one who complained about /jp/ posting my art in their threads. i know people want to believe that i’m a saint, but i’m not. i have myself to blame too. i at least want everyone to understand this, above all else. there was so much i could have done differently to prevent this all from happening, but i didn’t. i was stupid and naive. i was a massive fucking idiot, and now look where i am. i lost everything. i thought i had friends, i lost them. i thought i loved art, i lost that. i thought other really talented nice people liked me, i even lost that. all i have now is an empty shell of my former self. i don’t know what to do with it. i don’t know how i’m going to rebuild myself. it’s so painful to have to keep living like this. i don’t know if there’s any fixing me at this point. i’ve lost so much, i feel permanently broken.

but despite all of that, despite everything i’ve been through, i still receive so much love and support from my followers and friends and it means so much to me. it means the world to me and has kept me going through all of this. knowing that people care about me and want to see me get better and improve makes me want to try to fix myself even if i am broken beyond repair. i just want to thank you all for being that source of strength for me. these past few years have been so hard for me and time and time again i still get love and encouragement from so many people. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. there is nothing more precious to me than those moments when i feel like i do truly belong, when i feel loved, when i feel like i’m not alone after all. for those moments, i’ll keep trying. even if these threads keep continuing and breaking me further, i’ll keep trying. even if every last artist in this fandom comes to hate me and my shitty art, i’ll keep trying. it’s still painful to draw right now and i have a long way to go before i can share art with anyone again, but for you all, i’m going to keep trying my best. at the end of the day, i know everyone’s encouragement and love is worth far more than hate threads urging me to kill myself.

i’m sorry how long and personal and unnecessary this is, but i felt like i had to set things straight. if you read all of this, i applaud you. if you just kinda skimmed through to read the last paragraph, i also appreciate it. again, thank you.

#glub glub #suicide //#self harm //#disordered eating //#rape //

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phoebus-de-chateaupers-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Horsenapped [Part Two] *** [Ghostbusters feat. Saddle Club]

In which Merida and Phoebus enact their plan...[takes place: January 15]

@heart-of-dunbroch, @trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron

[tw -- so many things. violence, kidnapping, gore, lots of talk and thoughts of murder, self-harm, just anything you would expect from a kidnapping okay it’s a lot. if you want a synopsis hmu bc phoebus is Truly Awful]

PHOEBUS:

The night had finally come.

And none too soon. Phoebus knew that the sheriff was getting suspicious, his plans derailed by the lunatic woman in the back of his car, who was glaring consistent daggers any time he looked in the rearview mirror. This town was too small to move the way he wanted or needed to. However, he knew they would all be thanking their unsung hero when Phoebus vanished after putting a bullet into Hades’ temple.

It was a good thing too for this town was too haunted. Even now, he could feel Clemens’ ghost closer than ever, breathing down his neck. If he closed his eyes, he could picture the same cold expression on Belle’s face on Clemens’. If he blinked too long, they shifted--one to the other, his victims. His collateral damage, for yes, Phoebus knew that Belle would die by the end of this too. That was his secret, his burden to bare.

Whatever was inside of her was stronger than some succubus. Was stronger than some lower tier demon. She may just be a poor Mundus woman that had been seduced and tricked, but there was no way to keep her alive--and the baby could not be born. It would be too dangerous. Sure, they would try the exorcism, but Phoebus knew that it wouldn’t work. The thing growing inside of Belle was evil in the purest sense, just as a babe was good in the purest sense.

The whole family needed to be extinguished, snuffed out like a candle. Their bodies buried in the Catholic cemetery so that they could not rise again. (This only worked on demons, for the record. Anything else in a Catholic cemetery could very much rise again.)

“Get her inside,” Phoebus instructed Merida, even if he didn’t need to. She was doing a very good job. And of course she was--he would not have included her if he did not trust her implicitly. If he did not think she was up for the job. (He had tried to recruit Phillip but the worthless boy hadn’t answered his phone. No matter, Merida was worth ten of him.)

The old wooden doors creaked, but opened easily. It was not locked, Phoebus knew that it would not be. There were a few votive candles flickering in their containers, but besides that nothing moved. Moonlight spilled through the stained glass, but otherwise it was dark. The shadows did not stir here, however. There would be no ghosts.

“Seat her in the pew,” Phoebus told Merida, gesturing to the last row, right in front of the altar. Phoebus moved towards it, striking a match laying near one of the candelabras and lighting it. The flames jumped to life, casting a golden glow over Belle--though she still looked white as a sheet, sweat beading on her brow. He had not realized quite how sick she was. Perhaps that would work out well for him. She’d never survive the exorcism in this state.

Collateral damage indeed.

“I really am very sorry about all this,” Phoebus cooed at her, taking a few steps closer.

Belle’s eyes flashed. “Stay away from me.” She wiggled her shoulders, even though it was very clearly a feeble attempt to get away.

“Do you have your phone, love?” Phoebus reached forward to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, but Belle jerked her head away. He let his hand drop with a little frown. “I fancy a chat with your demon husband. Merida, check her pockets.”

MERIDA: Merida tasted bile, seeing Phoebus touch Belle like that. The urge to grab his wrist and twist it-- knee him in the groin just to watch him whine like the pig he was-- nearly overwhelmed her. She clenched both fists and bit down hard on a growl that threatened to come outta nowhere--

She imagined her fangs ripping out his throat.

It scared her. Scared her enough that Merida didn’t step forward or mouth off at all, but she stepped back, swallowing the growl roughly as the world tilted around her for a moment.

She’d not felt… for so long, there had been nothing but fog. The fog only lifted in her dreams, and so she had believed the curse was contained there and in a longing she’d never answer. But here it was, a second from ripping through her skin. Merida breathed in. She still had her knife. She could press the tip of it into her wrist, just enough to draw blood and silence the howling.

But she didn’t want to draw Phoebus’s eye or his suspicion. She’d been dead lucky so far that she’d managed to evade his scrutinization and she knew it was only because he was obsessed with this mission instead.

So Merida breathed and let Phoebus get away with his behavior, even if she wanted to bite off his hand too.

She swallowed again, took another second, and then moved forward, keeping her eyes off Phoebus as she dug through Belle’s pockets. She didn’t look Belle in the face either. There’d be no point. She already had Belle’s hatred slashed into her, a different kind of knife.

She got out the phone and handed it to Phoebus. “She won’t call ‘im,” she informed him, knowin’ enough about Belle to know that. He might as well not waste his time.

(And she didn’t want to see him-- touch her. Taunt her. Hit her. Merida had meant what she said when she pledged herself to protect Belle. That loyalty churned through her, nearly as powerful as the urge to maul Phoebus in front of them both.)

PHOEBUS: “She’s right,” Belle threatened, lifting her chin. Her eyes flashed, glinting like a flash of lightning.

It was admirable that she looked so brave. None of her bravery mattered, however. It didn’t stir Phoebus’ heart. He cared for nothing except the fact that Clemens was far from this place. That his ghosts could not enter here. Neither could Hades’. It was blissfully, peacefully quiet. He could pause properly for the first time in days. Everything was falling right into place. The only possible contingency was—Hades not coming. Hades, the ever-practical, heartless demon, not coming for his little Mundus wife. The theory as to why he would? If not for her, for the demonspawn. Whatever he was cooking in Belle’s womb meant something to him. The evil there he had spent all this time tending to.

“Good thing I wasn’t asking you to,” Phoebus told Belle with a saccharine smile.

“Passcode?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Because otherwise I’ll have Merida cut off one of your pretty little thumbs to use to open it. And it would really be a shame to rob a mother of one of her thumbs.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Zero five zero six,” Belle finally said.

Phoebus typed in the code and opened her contacts. Hades was right there at the top. He pressed his name, holding the phone up to his ear and rocking back on his heels slightly. It rang and rang and rang and rang.

Voicemail.

Phoebus scowled and hung it up before redialing.

Voicemail.

“What kind of man doesn’t answer his phone when his wife calls three times?” he hissed in annoyance, shooting a glare at Belle as if this was her fault.

“A demon,” Belle said plainly, but as Phoebus turned to look at her, there was a twinkle in her eye.

“Bitch,” Phoebus snarled back. His gaze snapped to Merida. “Let’s get your knife on that pretty neck again. I’m no photographer, but the glint of light off the blade against that pale skin? The contrast will make for a beautiful picture.” He held up the phone to get a better shot, waiting for Merida to do as she was told, his gaze drilling into her until she moved so he could make sure nothing that would identify Merida was in the frame. He smiled again, feeling giddy and light.

So close. A year of work. So close.

“Smile.”

Click. Went the camera shutter.

“Perfect, thank you, ladies,” Phoebus complimented them both as he opened Hades’ contact once again and sent the picture, along with a text: You have twenty minutes.

Then, he ambled towards the pew and sat down next to Belle, heavy enough to shake the bench and make Belle wince. “You want to take bets on if he shows or not?” He tilted his head a little, close enough that his breath stirred strands of Belle’s hair. Close enough to see the sweat in her hairline, the blue veins along her cheek. She really was tragically beautiful, wasn’t she? If only Phoebus had gotten to her before that demon.

She didn’t look at him. This time, she didn’t even flinch at his proximity.

Phoebus turned his head to look up at Merida, giving her a broader, more genuine smile—manic, some might call it, but Phoebus would just say: triumphant.

MERIDA: Merida still clutched the knife in her hand.

She clutched it as though it were a long, black claw extending from her knuckle. Her eyes drank in the sight of Phoebus’s jugular. A voice inside her, animal and wordless but a voice nonetheless, told Merida that if Phoebus touched Belle again, she would slice her claw across that throbbing artery and paint the pews with his blood.

Her gut told her there were things he was not telling her, there were lies her mentor had weaved thinking her a simple woman, not realizing that Merida had become something else-- and she could smell his lies like she could smell the sweat on the back of Belle’s neck.

HADES: Across town, Hades’ phone buzzed again and again. He ignored it with great difficulty--mostly because this meeting had gone on too long and he was bored out of his brain.

On the third ring, though, he began to worry. It was a scratch-scratch-scratch in the back of his brain.

It buzzed again and under the table, Hades slipped it from his pocket and turned it over. Belle’s name lit up the screen. A text.

He opened it quietly there at the table, then calmly turned off the screen, and pocketed the phone again.

“I have to go,” said Hades abruptly. He smiled at the board members and said as his explanation, with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Pregnant wife.”

He gathered his things and walked out the door. As soon as it was shut behind him, Hades broke into a run, and halfway down the hall, vanished into shadow.

MERIDA: “So nice of you to text the address!”

Hades’ voice rang through the cathedral in ominous echo and Merida whirled round to see him there at the end of the long aisle, door open from where he’d stepped in. It had been only six, seven minutes since Phoebus sent the text. A nothing amount of time if you asked Merida, and so the sight of him kicked up her adrenaline and she clenched her knife.

The wolf laid back down to make room for her instead-- warrior, knight-- a girl who knew supernatural when she saw it, let alone sniffed it.

Hades strolled down the aisle. “You’ll move away from her now, the two of you. I’m not your average demon.” He lifted his hand and the flame licked the air. “My powers work just fine here.”

PHOEBUS: It was very hard to get your hands on a gun in England, as it should be—according to Phoebus and the rest of the Order. Guns were messy, new-fangled things. Swords were cleaner, more holy. They had ancient rites written into them. However, sometimes, guns very much came in handy—according to Phoebus and not the rest of the Order.

A bullet could incapacitate a demon far better than a sword, enough that an exorcism could be performed on the prone body before it had time to re-awaken. A bullet could make a demon think twice about attacking.

It was very hard to get your hands on a gun in England, but if you were a police officer, with access to the gun safe—it was very easy.

Phoebus had not expected Hades so quickly. He had thought that he would skid into the cathedral at the last moment, making for a lovely dramatic entrance—if he deigned to show up at all. If he didn’t, well, it would be back to the drawing board. But Hades manipulation (devotion?) to Belle was one of the things that made this case so strange. Phoebus had never seen an incubus or demon act that way towards the object of its manipulation. And he had seen this story play out time and time again.

Which was why he’d decided on the cathedral. Everyone knew that demons’ powers did not work on holy ground.

So, when the little blue flame jumped into being—Phoebus’ eyes went wide, but they narrowed just as quickly. An unforeseen hurdle, but no less. Hades had come for Belle, which meant she or the baby meant something to him. And that was all the assurance that Phoebus needed. Now he knew that Hades was not completely powerless too. If he was a demon, he was a very stupid one. He could’ve hid that fire until the perfect moment.

Phoebus was not going to let him get that chance.

Roughly, he grabbed Belle by the bicep and dragged her up out of the pew. She stumbled, but Phoebus’ grip on her arm was strong enough to keep her upright. He pressed her flush against his own chest. His other hand twisted behind his back to the gun, which he pulled from its hiding place and pushed against Belle’s temple in one swift motion.

“Would you like to test them against my reflexes?” Phoebus snarled. “Now, play nice and perhaps we will consider letting your little pawn go.”

HADES: His eyes flicked, once, to the shadows on the ground. Then up again, his flame still flickering in his hand. Otherwise he was stone still and silent as his brain churned. It ran quickly through all the scenarios--

He could grab Merida. Hostage for hostage.

He could try to shadow-jump and end up behind Phoebus.

He could burn the fucking cathedral to the ground.

None of these options guaranteed Belle’s safety. It took a twitch of the finger and the gun would go off and Hades didn’t know if he could bank on Phoebus not being a complete monster and shooting a pregnant woman-- considering he’d already kidnapped her and had a gun loaded to her head. She’d be dead in a second, their daughter dead several minutes after. He could not enter Limbo; he knew there was no Limbo here.

Surrender was option four, one Hades rarely entertained, but this time it floated so easily to the top of the list.

And Hades got-- calm. The blue flame flickered again, but grew low, its eerie light drawing itself back…

Merida, however, wasn’t so calm.

“Oi! What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed at Phoebus. “He’s here, isn’t he? It worked, he came, let Belle go!”

His fire jumped back to life. Hades raised his eyebrows. “Trouble in the ranks, Officer? Did your lackey not read your memo?”

“You shut it!” Merida snarled.

PHOEBUS: Phoebus could taste the victory on his tongue.

How the Order would praise him. Taking out two demons at once? It was almost unheard of more or less on one’s own. (Merida half-counted, she was but a Knight and a woman besides. Everyone would know that this was Phoebus’ triumph.) Most demons took a group to kill, if there was more than one, and only experienced demon hunters managed without assistance to take down one demon by themselves. Though, of course, one of those demons was enwomb and there would be the death of a Mundus on his hands, but if he could take down whatever the fuck Hades was? (Clearly a level four, at least, perhaps a five—Phoebus had no idea if ‘opening the Gates of the Hell’ was even quantifiable.) The Order would sing his praises.

It was the perfect hunt to round the year off with (even if a few weeks late), just in time for the Tourney to choose the new king. Phoebus the Demon Slayer would not entertain much opposition.

And what was more—if he won King, perhaps Clemens’ ghost would be put to rest, since his death would not have been in vain.

Phoebus could see all of this right in front of him as he watched Hades’ flame diminish. He could see in the demon’s eyes that he was calculating, and he knew that it was hopeless. If he wanted to save his little wife—or his demonspawn—the only way to do so would be surrender.

His eagerness was so tangible, he almost felt trigger happy with it. He just needed Hades to take a few steps forward, right into range—so that he would not miss. Phoebus could already see the finish line, see passed it to the Tourney and his victory there as well. Could see himself being crowned King, Duchess his Queen. (Even if it was really his father would be crowned, Phoebus’ delusions of grandeur did not stop at murdering Belle. No, they ran far deeper. A father was not so different from a cousin, after all.)

Belle trembled against him, her hand squeezing pathetically weak at the wrist wrapped around her shoulders. “Hades,” she whimpered—sounding scared for the first time.

The demon’s name was hidden beneath Merida’s growl. Phoebus snapped his head towards the girl, his lips turned immediately into a scowl as from the corner of his eye, he saw Hades’ flame jump higher, banishing the finish line to the shadows, the demon’s hope restored.

“He hasn’t surrendered yet, you idiot girl,” Phoebus snarled at Merida.

As quickly as he glanced at her, he looked back at Hades—making sure the demon hadn’t taken another step on his watch. “So, surrender, and we’ll let her go.”

“Hades, d-don’t listen. He’s lying,” Belle said, her voice cracking, but it was stronger than he suspected, since he could feel her shaking.

“Shut up,” Phoebus hissed, lowering his head to press his cheek to the top of her head, the muzzle of the gun still flush with her hair. “Not another word.”

HADES: Of course the man was lying. Villains always did-- Hades should know. He was one.

But he didn’t have any bargaining chips of his own. Phoebus had cornered him. Phoebus had outsmarted him. There was no point trying to deny it, though to Hades’ meager credit it was Merida in the end who had outwitted Hades-- Merida who was a plant and a spy, her duality more clever than he would have ever thought of such a girl, who had a rough, loud laugh and the kind of straightforward nature he’d never expect to be a cover for this. Phoebus had failed, in the meantime, to stay hidden.

It was Merida who fooled them. And Merida now who might be the wild card and Hades’ only chance.

His eyes once again darted from Phoebus and Belle to Merida, the girl looking surprised-- unhinged. Something was going on under the surface between Merida and Phoebus, a slip in floorboard, a knot Phoebus, himself, did not see.

“I’ll surrender when you stop putting that gun to my wife’s head. Because if you’re going to murder her anyway I might as well set the both of you on fire now. Belle can take a little heat,” he said.

Merida’s eyes widened at that. Ah yes, she cared about Belle. Or the baby-- either way, she wasn’t entirely heartless.

Hades smirked. “Hand her over to your personal assistant to hold onto and I’ll come to you, hands up, no magic.”

And then you can shoot me, Hades thought, as he eyed that gun.

Or you can try.

PHOEBUS: Now, Phoebus didn’t know if Hades’ threat was real or not, but to him—he’d be willing to take the chance. Hades had come all this way, somehow arrived in record time, for his little wife. Phoebus would not put it past him to light her on fire, but he hadn’t yet. He cared. That was why he was still here. That was why his flame had flickered low and Phoebus had almost had him in his clutches just a moment ago.

It didn’t make any sense, but there was no time to wonder.

If anything, it just worked to his advantage.

His head tilted, lifting up off of the top of Belle’s, as if he was considering.

“And why should I trust you? If you’re so eager to set your wife ablaze, what is to say as soon as she’s out of my grasp, you don’t use your magic on me—uncaring if she gets hurt or not? Maybe I should just do away with her now and shoot you next. Plenty of bullets for that.”

HADES: “Then I definitely will set you on fire. You’ve seen me spontaneously combust an entire river before. Distance isn’t a challenge,” he taunted and glared, and he knew he would. If Belle dropped, the church would go up. It’d take a blink and the sound of his heart breaking. Broken hearts made excellent kindling.

“Enough!” Merida barked. Her wild eyes were darting back and forth between Phoebus and Hades. He noticed how knuckle-white she’d gone, gripping the knife.

Her eyes settled, though, on Phoebus-- not him.

“Stop usin’ a pregnant mundus woman as your hostage and puttin’ her unborn babe in danger! That’s disgraceful and you know it! Face him like a man-- fight him like a Prince!” she declared and pointed Hades’ way. “We never talked about ye puttin’ a damn gun ‘gainst Belle’s head!”

“Yeah Phoebus, c’mon mate. Let’s solve this like men. Which I guess means hitting things with big pointy sticks,” mocked Hades. He snuffed his fire but spread his arms.

He knew it made himself an even larger target. So did the mocking.

But even just as second with that gun on Hades, instead of Belle, earned him a second more than he had now.

And who knows? Fates have pity on him, maybe the shadows would take Hades before the bullet did.

PHOEBUS: At first, Phoebus glared at Hades. Blue to unearthly blue. His threat would not go unheeded. Phoebus knew that demons had no morals or honor and nothing he said could be trusted, but he also knew they had irresistible bloodlust and it would not be above him to set him aflame with a thought.

He had to recalculate. Phoebus has not planned on Hades having his magic. He was supposed to be near-incapacitated by the holy ground. He wasn’t. The bastard still had his pyrokinesis. Perhaps his telekinesis too. Phoebus couldn’t be too sure.

His hand adjusted its grip on the gun as he thought. Recalculated. It would be best to shoot Hades first. Belle could not defend herself. He could give her to Hades and shoot them both as they turned to leave.

And then, Merida snarled.

Phoebus’ gaze snapped towards her, his own face twisted in fury. The dumb bitch was making this ten times more difficult. Phoebus should’ve known that this would be the case. What he got for working with a woman to start. She had played house with Belle, had gotten her here, but he should’ve made her leave. He saw that now. Mistake after mistake. He was supposed to be cleaner than this. Better than thing.

Hades spoke again and Phoebus’ head whipped back towards him, though he was half-paying attention to Merida again.

“Shut up, the both of you. Or I swear on the Lord I’ll shoot her right now.” His head shook like a dog with water in his ears. “This girl is far from innocent, Merida. She carries an unholy, powerful spawn. It goes against God and all that is good. It’s not a baby, it’s a demon. Getting rid of them is what we planned. Now stop your whinging and help me kill the bastard. Or are your weak emotions going to take over? We don’t have time for a woman’s remorse. Princes do not have sympathy for women who lie with demons.” His hand knitted in Belle’s hair, yanking it back so that she cried out.

His attention snapped back to Hades. “Who would you rather go first? You or her?”

MERIDA: She carries an unholy, powerful spawn.

It’s not a baby, it’s a demon.

Getting rid of them is what we planned.

Phoebus had lied to her. With each one of his spitting words, he revealed those lies as a cold crept over Merida, a feeling she’d had before, a feeling, sometimes, she felt she had been born with. It came from looking someone face-to-face and watchin’ them let you down. Her father had let her down before in a manner quite similar. Her uncles, her cousins, her friends. Everywhere Merida looked for someone to believe in her, she only found liars and cowards.

And so it didn’t feel like a surprise. It felt inevitable. Phoebus had lied. He had never intended to try to save Belle at all, she saw it clear-- he’d shoot Belle in the head as soon as he could, then wipe his barrel clean and go have a beer. He thought that made him stronger than her.

It actually just made him stupid.

That wild, savage voice in her quieted then. It did not growl, it did not snarl or ask for Phoebus’s blood. It was Merida who was in complete control then, the same sort of control she had when she laced a bow and locked eyes on her target. It took a crack eye, a steady hand, and an instinct to know when to let the arrow go.

Merida laced her arrow now as she sucked her teeth like the annoyed, wild girl who showed up to Phoebus’s practices and mouthed off. She glared-- rolled her eyes-- scoffed. “I’m not weak,” she retorted and let Phoebus think he’d won her.

“Well then. If I really get a choice--” started Hades, drawing Phoebus’s eye back to him.

And that was the moment Merida released her arrow. She moved with the strength and speed of a wolf. Her hand grabbed the barrel of the gun and shoved it to the ceiling as the other twisted Phoebus’s wrist. It was enough to give Belle a second.

“RUN!” she hollered at Belle.

BELLE: There was little Belle could hear over the sound of her heart beating, her blood rushing in her ears. Since he had arrived, she’d not taken her eyes off of Hades. He’d barely looked at her—and she knew why—but she’d drank him in, so close, yet so far. She wished he hadn’t come. She was so glad he was there.

For once, she didn’t know what to do—how to save them. Any of them (her, Hades, Opal.) The desperation clawed at her heart, but between the panic and the tourmaline and the adrenaline, she didn’t have thought in her head besides please. She didn’t know who she was asking. Some long-dead god? Some fate? Some destiny? This couldn’t be theirs, she thought. They had suffered too much for this.

And then, she thought, that she hoped Hades died first, if it came to it. She’d rather save him from the pain of losing his wife and daughter. At least she’d only lose him. Opal would survive longer than her, at least she could give her that.

It should make her calm, she supposed, but that was not how she felt. She felt like exactly what she was—trapped, helpless, useless, so stupid.

Belle wanted to live, she wanted to meet their daughter, she wanted Hades to meet their daughter. The idea that any of that wouldn’t come to pass froze her with fear, kept her perfectly still. The muzzle of the gun was cool against her head. She could smell whiskey on Phoebus, beneath the scent of his awful cologne.

And she could hear her heart beating fiercely in her ears. Not yet, not yet—it woosh-wooshed.

Something jerked—and for the sharpest flash of a second, Belle had thought the gun had gone off, she thought that she’d feel the impact and then—nothing.

“RUN!” was what she heard instead, the command like a bolt of lightning striking through her.

It was just enough to propel her forwards as her heart clenched in her chest. Her wild gaze searched for Hades, but the darkness of the Cathedral bled around her, the edges going fuzzy. She stumbled one, two steps, her legs like jelly, barely listening to her brain. She couldn’t breathe. Before she could stop herself, she was pitching forwards, heading right for the stone floor.

Behind her, the gun discharged, and stone rained down over them all like snow.

PHOEBUS: “NO!” bellowed Phoebus, just as Merida slammed into him. His hand clenched instinctively as he braced himself to throw her off. And normally—he would be able to throw her off. He had wrestled with Merida since she was a tot, and more so recently. He knew exactly how much strength she had. He had trained her himself.

This was not her normal amount of strength.

His eyes went wide as his body stumbled from the sudden impact and Merida peeled his arm off of Belle as if she was opening the lid of a can. Belle managed to slip from his grasp and Phoebus’ face twisted in anger.

The gun went off much on accident as Phoebus tried to jerk his hand back and away from Merida.

“What are you doing, you bitch?” he snarled, practically spitting in her face. “I’m not the enemy. You’re going to get us both killed!” His knee came up to her gut, his hand twisting out of her grip as she bent to the pain of the blow. He reached up and snagged the gun from his other hand, waving it wildly about, attempting to find Hades in the chaos.

MERIDA: Her own strength surprised her. Like thunder, it roared through her muscles and then exploded, Phoebus’s hand jerking up farther than she anticipated, his wrist in hers feeling strangely thin and fragile, reminding her more of the horsehair of her bow-- bendable, pliable-- than bone. Though she knew it would snap if she twisted just a touch more. And that surprised her too, knowing she could break his wrist. She could break a man’s wrist before-- but this-- this would be easy as breathing.

It surprised her and so did the gunshot. The echo of it rattled through her eardrums, much too close for her liking. It jolted the beast inside.

The beast didn’t like the sound of guns.

The smell of gunpowder made her face twist and her eyes glint.

She barely felt the blow to her stomach, just bent to it as bodies do. It was all instinct. Action, reaction. The gun tore from her hand. She heard the sound of something falling and knew it was probably Belle, Belle not safe, Belle one second away from a bullet put through the brain.

She got her foot between Phoebus’s and she tripped him. The two of them fell with a thud of their own. An animal snarl rose from her lips as she reached for his hand again, to pin the wrist, to squeeze with sheer force the gun from his hand--

Her other went to his neck. If she couldn’t get the gun, she knew who could.

The necklace’s chain snapped as easily as a wrist could.

HADES: Merida had whirled on the man and with her action, the tension in the cathedral had shattered. Its pieces went everywhere-- Merida onto Phoebus, the gun pointing at the ceiling, the bullet discharged somewhere into the walls, Belle stumbling like a blind woman away, and Hades going straight for her too.

She fell. Phoebus and Merida fell. Hades arrived a second too late to catch her but reached down for her anyway, hoisting her roughly to her feet. His hands went straight to her face, his palm smoothly over her tangled hair and pale skin. His eyes conducted a wild, but thorough search of her face for blooms of bruise or blood. But she was untouched, except for the damage of the tourmaline.

“We have to go,” he said to her. As much as he wanted to inspect the rest of her, to sit down and to hold her, there was no time.

And then the gun went off a second time, Hades’ flinch turning quickly into action as he twisted Belle around so she was behind him and shielded.

BELLE: Belle barely felt hitting the ground, her conscious flickering in and out for those few seconds—though instinct had her flinging her arms out to try to catch herself.

What she did feel, however, was a hand on her bicep, jerking her back to her feet with force. For a few moments, she thought it was Phoebus. He’d thrown Merida off and come for her again. And next, he was going to put a bullet through her temple. She lurched, trying to pull away on instinct, even if it meant crashing back down to the ground.

But then—a hand touched her face and she knew that hand. Blinking, she took in Hades’ features as they came into proper focus and she felt some part of her unclench. She wanted to fall into him.

Safe. Safe. She was safe. Opal was safe.

And then, the gun went off again—that semblance of safety ripped away as swiftly as it came. Hades pulled her towards him in a split second, before she could even register what had happened. She stumbled and tensed, her heart jumping right back into her throat.

The echo of the shot petered out and Belle looked up at Hades, her hand reaching for the collar of his shirt, searching his eyes—looking for any trace of pain. “Are you--?” was all she could think to say, the terror had her by the throat.

PHOEBUS: The bullet whizzed right passed the couple, shattering into a column nowhere near them. Only three bullets left. And now—there was no breath in his own lungs, the fall having knocked it out of him. Merida’s fingers brushed his throat and he thought in the confusion, that she was looking to strangle him.

It was much, much worse than that—

He felt the chain of the necklace snap. “No!” he snarled again, his stomach twisting—for the first time that night—in fear. The necklace was his protection. With it, he was immune to the telekinetic tricks of demons. Nothing could touch him. Now, he was exposed—and Merida knew it.

“Traitor!” he snarled at her and thrashed—trying to dislodge her from his hips. His free hand went to her own throat, he’d kill her if he had to. The Order would understand. They did not take kindly to traitors. He should have expected no less from a woman. It was not often that they had loyalty or nobility or common fucking sense.

His fingers wrapped around her neck and they squeezed.

The pain in his wrist would not alleviate, but he refused to drop the gun. It was his only defense against the spectre now. If he could just get Merida off of him—there was a bullet for each of them.

One for the traitorous cunt.

One for the delusional bitch.

And one for the demon responsible for it all.

MERIDA: Merida used to wrestle with her father. They were games of pretend: Merida three times her size and her father the rambunctious pup who showed her his belly, there on the green of Cawdor gardens. She’d climb all over him and shout with the force of her lungs her victory. With her fists raised high in the air, she’d declared herself king-- king of fathers and king of Cawdor Castle.

She knew that he had let her win those games. Now-- this wasn’t a game and Phoebus wouldn’t let her win. But she knew how to fight. If wrestling had taught her anything, it was how to want something so badly, you would fight for it.

So Phoebus thrashed and she steeled her thighs around him. He discharged the gun again. The cathedral echoed with that iron sound. Merida banged his hand back with her own so hard she imagined the itty bitty bird bones of his knuckles crunching into grains of sand.

She raised the necklace away from him with her other hand. He flailed to catch it and when he didn’t get it, his thick fingers found her throat.

Merida choked. Her breath squeezed in her belly, her lungs bursting. And in between her ears it wasn’t the ringing of the gun anymore, but the howling begun, growing louder and louder, closer and closer--

She flailed her hand and threw the necklace behind her. “It’s-- the-- necklace!” she tried to rasp the answer. Her hand now free, she reached for Phoebus’s hand around her neck.

And she fought. She fought to peel every one of those fingers off her, with a strength she knew was not her own, but the beast’s.

She watched how his eyes bulged, reminding Merida of prey.

Her own flashed as her mouth twisted in a snarl.

PHOEBUS: Phoebus watched, his own eyes bulging as Merida pulling his fingers from her neck, one after another. It shouldn’t be possible. Men were stronger than women, just by default. It was the way their bodies were made. Not to mention, Phoebus had been training almost his entire life. Over twenty years—he never missed an exercise. He worked hard every day to keep himself in the best shape possible. He was strong.

Merida was not this strong.

And still, she peeled his fingers back one by one, like snapping the strings a guitar.

It shouldn’t be possible—but it was.

Phoebus’ brain was attempting to recalibrate. If he could not defeat her by brute strength, he could certainly outsmart the dumb broad. This was a lie he told himself, for he knew Merida was sharp as a tack—but he was smarter, older, had been doing this much, much longer. Merida was all brawn. Phoebus was all brains. It was what he had always excelled at. This was why he was glad to fight demons, not dragons.

She peeled his fingers from her throat, but she needed both hands to do it.

Which meant that Phoebus had one shot.

Surprisingly, shooting someone at close range was at times more difficult than at a distance. It could be hard to get the angle correct. But Phoebus knew he needed to get her off of him if he had any chance of taking care of what he needed to. If he could just destabilize her at least, then he could deal with the Acherons—and Merida later.

With a twist of his wrist, Phoebus aimed the gun up and towards Merida, the shot loud and echoing once again.

Blood splattered on his face and he heard Merida give an inhuman growl. The next moment she had sprang off of him.

The moment after that, Phoebus had also jumped to his feet.

He spun on his heel to find the Acherons again. “STOP!” His voice boomed through the nave of the cathedral. “I swear to God I will shoot either of you.”

HADES: The first shot didn’t hit them. He waited for the sharp bite, but it never came. The scuffle behind them continued, Phoebus snarling and Merida gasping. She said something about a necklace, but--

“I’m fine. Let’s go!” Hades hissed. He grabbed Belle’s hand and yanked her into motion.

They stumbled into a clumsy, staggering run, Belle still weak and sick and very, very pregnant. Feet pounded anyway. Down the aisle, halfway to the door, Hades’ eyes scouring the shadows and wondering, wondering if he could take Belle with him--

Another gunshot. Hades flinched and looked over his shoulder. He saw Merida stumble back only to collapse out of view.

He felt a flicker of something in his chest, but didn’t have time to consider what it was. Because Phoebus scrambled up and pointed the gun at them again.

Hades once again shoved Belle behind him. He obeyed the order, his feet, heavy as concrete as he stared back at a manic Phoebus. He looked more monster than Hades ever had-- hair wild, uniform crumbled, and blood spattered across his front.

But he didn’t have his hostage anymore. And Hades remembered what Merida had gasped. Necklace, she said, and Hades decided to take a chance, based on an inkling in his stomach that felt exactly like his sixth sense.

He waved his hand and ripped the gun from Phoebus’s hand. It flew across the church and got lost in one of the pews. Phoebus looked startled. Then scared. Hades smirked.

He reached forward and grabbed Phoebus by the throat with his magic. With his hand extended out, fist white-knuckled with his grip, he moved forward, back down the aisle and toward the choking Prince. Who was the devil now?

“What do you think of me now?” Hades snarled. He forced Phoebus to his knees as he got closer and closer. The candles on the altar lit a ghostly blue. “Do I look like the demon yet? Am I the devil?” He wrapped his powers so thickly and tightly around Phoebus that he couldn’t move his arms.

He arrived in front of him and leaned down so he could spit directly in his face.

“I’m something so much worse,” he told him. And he contemplated Phoebus’s death--Hades’ most familiar friend standing next to them both. He sensed there was a choice here when sometimes there was not. To choke, to burn, to slice Phoebus open--to spare him-- Death waited, silent and patient, for Hades to decide.

Behind him, a different creature rose from the shadows.

PHOEBUS: The gun sprung from his hand as if attached to a string. Phoebus stumbled, more on instinct than anything, as if he had just received a blow. He thought that he might be able to bluff. Hades knew that Phoebus was immune to telekinesis but didn’t know how. Phoebus could hope that Merida had not been able to convey her message. Whether through sheer luck or the sense of some otherworldly creature—Hades called his bluff.

And Phoebus felt the cold trickle of fear. It started as a quiet thing—as silent as a prayer.

Invisible fingers closed around his throat and Phoebus’ hands came up at once, clawing at the nothing of it, desperate and instinctual. He was dizzy even before Hades shoved him to his knees. His brain confused at that point—unable to feel what was choking him, unable to understand why that was. Hades looked just as terrifying as Phoebus knew him to be—that unearthly blue fire bouncing off the stained glass, turning the Cathedral dark instead of warm. Or, perhaps, that was just the blackness creeping into the sides of his vision.

BELLE: Belle had stumbled to a pew as Hades moved off. She got her hand around the side of it and leaned over for a moment, attempting to catch her breath. Realistically, she knew the threat was gone now. Phoebus was unarmed and unprotected from Hades’ powers, which meant there was no way to overtake him.

Still, the fear rushed through Belle. She was dizzy with it. Could feel her hands shaking. So, she pushed back up and gripped at the back of the pew, trying to find the spirit inside of her that had faced off with murderous muses and dragons and shadow creatures galore. She couldn’t find that girl. Instead, she found another as she watched Hades force Phoebus to his knees. She found a vicious, vindictive woman—who wanted to watch Hades snap Phoebus’ neck.

The thought didn’t even startle her. She didn’t look away. Instead, she stood taller. Her gaze was hard and cool. For a few moments, there was no sympathy in her heart, only the thirst for revenge. And not just for this incident, but all the ones that had come before. Belle could see it all now, clicking into place. Phoebus, the officer who had arrested Hades. Phoebus, the officer who had been the first to show up after Shuck’s collar had come loose. All the rumors kicked back up and swirling around Hades. Rumors that had died down considerably when Hades had won his seat on the Board.

Their lives—Hades’ life—potentially ruined by someone who was going to murder him and her and their unborn child in cold blood.

Belle had no sympathy for him.

However, her gaze fell softly on her husband. Even from a distance, even though he kept it contained to the thunderous tilt of his brow—she could see the fury etched into every line of his body. In that same moment, Belle knew that she would not allow her husband to kill Phoebus in cold-blood. (no matter how delicious the sound of Phoebus’ neck snapping would sound in the echo of the cathedral. Later, it would haunt them both.) She knew Hades had killed before--she knew that he had killed just like this, not under threat of attack, but because of his fury. Belle wouldn’t let him this time and she would not have let him if she had been there before.

And this was not because of some higher moral obligation. No, Belle was woman enough to admit that. It was not because there wasn’t some riotous, monstrous part of herself that wanted Phoebus dead. It was not because she thought Phoebus worth saving.

But because she knew that Phoebus’ death would do nothing to clean up their reputation in town. If Hades wanted to salvage any of that, they needed to play the victims. Which meant keeping Phoebus alive, taking the moral high ground. He was just a Mundus anyway. If he was put in jail, there would be little risk of him leaving. He was no longer a threat. It was better to keep him alive. Phoebus was the one who was going to kill them, not the other way around.

“Hades,” she called—her voice soft but ragged--she knew he would hear her regardless.

Don’t. He’s not worth it.

This was what she was going to say, but movement caught her eye.

In the blue of Hades’ candlelight, Merida’s fur shone black—but Belle knew who and what she was at once—and she was stalking right towards Hades.

“Behind you!” she called then, her voice much louder.

Her gaze turned frantically towards the wolf and she moved from the pew into the aisle again, as if she would be able to run fast enough to do anything at all. She knew she couldn’t. Still, she gathered what little strength she had.

“Merida, no!” The command bounced around the walls of the cathedral, echoing much louder than Belle herself was.

HADES: Hades turned at Belle’s voice and had approximately half a second to react to the werewolf that had fucking materialized out of nowhere.

Okay, realistically, in the next five seconds, he’d put together the werewolf was Merida all along. But at first, all he saw was animal and all he thought was animal. The wolf hulked, massive, its fur a rustic red-tinted penny colour with eyes like molten lava. It dripped blood. Hades barked in shock and he literally collapsed back onto Phoebus as the creature lunged with a terrible cry of its own.

His magic lashed out. It grabbed the wolf like it had grabbed the gun and flung the creature into the altar, knocking the whole damn thing over. The werewolf snarled then screeched with pain. When it got up again, it scrambled on clumsy legs like it didn’t know how to use it.

And then it bolted down, toward Belle.

“Belle!” he cried out and was about to toss the wolf against the pews.

But the wolf streaked past Belle, straight for the open door, and out again.

Now it was Hades turned to scramble off Phoebus. He twisted around, grabbed the dazed, gasping corrupt cop by his ruined uniform and then punched him once across the face. It was surprisingly more satisfying than he thought it would be, for someone who had never had to throw a punch before. His knuckles crunched cheekbone. It hurt, but Hades liked it.

He then let Phoebus fall back onto the ground. He got up the rest of the way and jerked Phoebus’s hands above his head in mock surrender.

“You didn’t mention you were working with a fucking werewolf. What the fuck?” Hades panted. He twisted half-round to look at Belle. “Are you okay?”

BELLE: Merida lunged and Hades knocked himself backwards, toppling him and Phoebus both to the ground and out of sight behind the pews. Belle felt her heart jump into her throat the moment Merida’s paws left the ground, her heart sinking—helpless once more—into her stomach.

But Hades managed to toss her into the altar with an awful crash. There was just a moment, just a moment of respite (though, Belle’s heart clenched in her chest at the sound of Merida’s whine—though she wasn’t sure why, she had no pity for the sorrowful, hateful creature.) Then, Merida got up and shook herself off and barreled towards her.

Though this, at least, Belle was not afraid of. She had been stared down, stalked by a werewolf once before. She knew the look in their eye, hungry and focused. As Merida neared, she knew that was not the case—her head was shaking back and forth like she was attempting to fix a ringing in her ears. So, Belle’s heart jumped back into her throat but she did not flinch as the beast blew passed her, fast and powerful enough to ruffle her hair and clothing.

She turned to watch it go, wondering what would become of the girl. If she cared, it was only because there was a rogue wolf on the loose. When all this was over, she should probably call Adam and give him the heads up, (When all this was over, she would forget.)

Her reverie was broken just a moment after it had started (another moment of respite gone), when she heard flesh against flesh and turned—startled—back to Hades and Phoebus. Her breath caught in her throat just before she registered that it was Hades who had thrown the punch, Hades who was still in control of the situation. For a second, she had thought—

Phoebus’ manic laughter filled the cathedral, bouncing off the walls and making Belle shiver and her stomach sicker. She clenched white-knuckled at the pew and wanted to beg for him to stop. But Belle had not begged with a gun to her head and she would not start now.

Instead, she looked to Hades and nodded her head slightly—making her way back towards him slowly, her whole body trembling as the adrenaline began to eek out of her.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him, though it was not wholly the truth. “We need to call the police, Hades,” she told him. “I-I don’t know where my phone is. They—” her voice caught, strangled as her throat closed, “—took it.”

HADES: The wolf-- was gone. Phoebus-- had lost. Was manic and laughing, unhinged as Hades expected he had always been under his uniform. And Belle was okay.

For a brief second, Hades just let out a breath and enjoyed that fact for what it was: Belle was okay. Yes, she was still pregnant with a baby that was sucking all of her health from her. Yes, she had been kidnapped and all his fault again. Yes, she’d been held at gunpoint. Knifepoint. The nightmares would keep them both awake.

But in that second, she was alive. Alive, standing, still pregnant, her hair a tangled mess but otherwise alive. If he could just hold onto that, maybe he’d make it to March and see the other side of this.

But he couldn’t. Hold onto it, that is. There was a list of things to do tonight, from the police to the Board to scheduling an appointment with Hera to check the baby-- couldn’t be too careful. And so the second ended and Hades had to go on. That’s how you made it to the other side anyway. Not by holding your breath and waiting for things-- but by going on.

“I’ll call,” he said. He still had his powers wrapped tightly around Phoebus, a hand out to keep it that way while the other dug into his pocket. “Is Opal kicking? Can you feel her?” he asked Belle as he dialed.

If she was kicking, then, at least… at least it would be one good thing.

BELLE: Hades asked about Opal and Belle blinked a little. It surprised her—though, guilt nipped on her heels the next second. In her mild defense, she had just been kidnapped and held at both knife- and gun point, betrayed by someone she had thought of as a dear friend. (For the second time in a handful of months, though really, Berlioz’s betrayal seemed meager to all of this.) In her mild defense, Hades barely took an interest in the baby these days outside of making sure Belle was as comfortable as possible.

So, yes, she blinked a little, and then—with a jolt, realized she hadn’t felt her at all since—the car? Or, perhaps, when the gun had pressed to her temple. She couldn’t remember when the last time was. And Belle, you know, was very diligent at measuring her kick count every day—and Opal was always delighted to participate, if you caught her at the right time. Which was just about now. If Opal wasn’t tap-dancing on Belle’s liver, something was wrong.

Something might be wrong.

Belle put a hand to her stomach, and for the first time in several minutes, focused on her daughter in more than the abstract “save her life” kind of way. She held her breath for a moment, two—

There she went, kicking right against the bottom of Belle’s stomach. Belle’s hand arched down towards the movement as the relief washed over her.

She heard Hades’ voice speaking to the emergency operator, so she took the moment to edge her way back into a pew and sat down, her hand pressed against her daughter’s foot, like she could hold it already. She wished she could count all of her toes.

Belle watched Hades hang up the phone and turn towards her. “She’s—she’s fine, I-I think. Tap-dancing, a-as usual.” She smiled just a little and wanted to reach out for him, but she was terrified for him to come any closer whilst he still had Phoebus in the grip of his powers. Realistically, she knew Hades could probably hold Phoebus steady from across the cathedral and not simply a few pews away, but she did not want to risk it.

Instead, she just slumped down and tilted her head back, looking towards one of the stained-glass windows. A pietà. Belle looked away.

PHOEBUS: Phoebus gave up fighting rather quickly. It was no use against the invisible binds around him, stronger than any rope. Rope, he could wiggle his way out of. Magical binds that defied the logic of physicality? It was impossible.

So, instead, he was quiet and still. He did not try to fight. He began to plot.

In truth, it was not going well. He knew that Hades was too dangerous a target now. With a hunting party, perhaps they would catch him. There was no one Phoebus trusted enough to be smart and steady, to bide their time and strike when the moment was right. The Order was full of impatient, amateur assholes just looking to make an easy kill. Fine. Let Hades live and destroy this town. The people in it were idiots for living within its borders.

His planning turned towards the future. Getting out of prison. He was confident it would happen. Swynlake was not quipped to handle a trial of this caliber. He would be outsourced to a proper jail, a proper prison. A different court system entirely. One that was not magick-friendly. One that would sympathize with his position. His family could hire a perfectly powerful lawyer. He could get acquitted. He could have a vastly reduced sentence. He could break out. The Order knew enough people in the prison system. It was how they continued to operate the way that they did. He was confident he would not be in jail long.

Which left—Duchess. Would she wait for him? He prayed she would. Phoebus would still give her the big beautiful seaside house. A wedding that he would let her busy herself with planning whilst he was dealing with the red tape. He would take care of her still.

Phoebus hardly noticed the handcuffs going onto his wrists or being jerked to his feet. He stayed stony and silent as he left the sanctity of the cathedral and was shoved into the police cruiser, the red-blue lights flashing like the sun spiraling through stained glass.

#bdrphades #bdrpmerida #bdrpbelle #ghostbusters #artemis and apollo #phoebelle #horsenapped #heh #good times

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honey-baes · 6 years ago

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ALL THE EMOJI ASKS PLS RACHEL

I DONT THINK U REALIZE HOW MANY THERE BLOODY IS THIS TOOK ME SO LONG AHGSJHAGSJHAGSJ

💗 if you could hug anyone, who would it be? @occultlike she looks like she’d be soft n squishy n im here for that

🐹 what are some of your favourite Pokémon and why? litwick!!! idk its just so pretty!!!! i also love darkrai n jirachi cus those were two of my fave pokemon movies as a kid!!!

🌠 if you were in charge of the world, what would the world look like? p fucking gay ig uhh there would be flowers every fucking wear for sure

👀 what was the most recent vivid dream that you had? i dont dream much?? the last dream i had all i remember is like,,, somebody ik dying?? idk

☀️ what do you like the most about your best friend? idr have a best friend BUT i love all my friends for being the most TALENTED N CREATIVE people ever im. gushing

😘 talk about your crush or partner - dude i have a new crush every week but uhh but i kinda have a thing for my friend ajhdahdha

💁 if someone was rude to you, would you be rude back? def not!!!!! i hate confrontation n i usually just stay silent (although that never fuckin works n i really need to stand up for myslef ahdgahd) tho if its playful ill def be a bitch

🌟 what do you like about yourself? (must choose at least 3 things!) I’ve gotten through so much n im still here!!!!!! // i try to be kind to the people around me //

🐾 what are you scared of most? how will you overcome it? uhh this is dumb but really myself??? like, my paranoia is really shit n it makes me scared of alot of shit im fully aware isn’t a threat or anything

🎁 what never fails to make you happy? flowers!!!!!!!!!!!!

💙 what annoys you about some people? people who are rude for no reason!!!!! it just annoys me when people say something in a rude tone for literally no reason yknow

😤 do you get angry easily? uhh yes unfortunately!!!! i have alot of pent up anger ahdhaajsdhasd

🐇 what do you always daydream about? alot of things!!! i’ll often daydream about mundane stuff like what i’m gonna draw later n that

🌻 if you could change 3 things about the world what would you change?

✈️ what is your dream city and why? hmm vancouver looks pretty cool!!!!!! idk im a lil bit sheltered n a lil bit bad at georgraphy

☕️ talk about your ideal day - i’d wake up n make some green tea and honey and then do some painting in my room, n have pasta for dinner!!!! i love pasta jadhajsdja

🌸 are you an introvert, ambivert or extrovert? introvert definitely!!! i love my friends but being around people, especially outside is really draining hh

💧 when was the last time you cried? uhh yesterday hjdgasd i cry p much every day HhhhH

🎵 name 5 songs you love at the moment - wetsuit // a lack of colour // drop pop candy // talk too much // if you’re over me

⚡️ if you had any superpower, what would it be and why? i’ve always thought itd be awesome to be able to read peoples mind!!!! ig i really just want to know what people think of me?? ahdhags

💛 if you could talk to your younger self, what would you say? please for the love of god don’t eat that much icing at once it won’t end well

💚 who are you jealous of and why? idrk um i’m naturally kinda jealous of loads of artists??? just cus i think my arts been p bad recently n im really envious of others art hhh

💎 which one would you rather have more of: intelligence, beauty, kindness, wealth or bravery? why? kindness!!! i’m none of those things except for kind so i might aswell go that route yknow ahdhadgaj

🙊 what are you ashamed of? dude alot of things honestly most things i do adjhadhass

🌺 which languages do you know? which do you want to learn? i know english and welsh!!!!! i don’t think i’d be able to learn another language tbh hh

🍀 if you could be any fictional character’s best friend/lover, which fictional character would you be? hmm i love tomoyo daidouji n i’d love to be her friend!!!!! (she’s from cardcaptor sakura!!!)

💜 which acts of kindness are you going to do today? i’m in the proccess of drawing something for someone!!!! n fufilling reqs!!!!

🐬 if you could transform into any animal/magical creature, what would you be and why? a siren bcs theyre pretty and murderous n i like that

🍄 talk about someone/something you really dislike - ash she’s a real dumbass yknow

😣 talk about some things that have been making you depressed/angry/anxious lately - everything tbh hh ive been going thru a rlly shit rough patch atm but!!! im still here so

🍪 what did you want to be as a kid, and what do you want to be now? i wanted to be a artist, n i didnt for a couple years but i do again!!!!

🍰 what are some of your favourite sugary foods? chocolatechocolatechocolate

🍑 what are you obsessed with? currently bnha n kiribaku!!!!!!!! n uhh kamideku/tododeku/kamisero/ashido and happiness

💘 what happens to you when you’re stressed? i uhh cry hh

😪 what are you sick of? it being so hot!!!!!! gahh

🙀 are you an adrenaline seeker? nO

☔️ would you consider yourself a good person? i’m definitely trying!!!!!! i don’t know if i really am yet though ahah

😊 what do you like to do as hobbies? painting!!!! video games!!!! i love doing sumi-e/oil/watercolour/digital painting n i love nintendo games!!

🎤 what’s the last song you hummed or sang by yourself? i sang Hot n Cold ahddgahdajadh

🐝 what’s your worst trait? how are you planning to improve it? me being a bit of a pushover hadahdsjjah im trying to stand up for myself but it usually just ends up in more grief HHH

🎨 what do you always doodle when you’re bored? eyes!!!!!! i draw eyes all over my school books, and bloody hands!! // i like doodling blood hh

🐻 what’s stopping you from chasing your dreams? i’m like uhhh 2 years old ig

🌷 what’s your mbti personality and why do you think it suits you? i havent,,, done that hhh

👑 who are your favourite celebrities and why? off the top of my head i love jenna coleman cus uhhh shes a pretty lady

🍋 do you consider yourself an emotional person? o fuck yeah

📚 share 3 books that you love and your favourite quote from them. alices adventures in wonderland // ‘she generally gave herself very good advice, although she very seldom followed it’ | through the looking glass and what alice found there // ‘Thy loving smile will surely hail the love-gift of a fairy tale.” | the lion, the witch and the wardrobe // ‘She did not shut it properly because she knew that it is very silly to shut oneself into a wardrobe, even if it is not a magic one.’

😔 what do you always do when you feel sad? does it help? i listen to music!!!!

😌 what thoughts keep you going when you’re sad? def my friends!!! i don’t acc like talking about things that are bothering me but i know they’d all be willing to listen and care about what i say n that makes me happy ahhh

🌍 which country do you live in? wales!!!!

🐧 describe yourself in 3 words - salty, tired, TIRED

💭 do you keep a diary? i have tried but alas i cant keep up w that shit

💫 who inspires you? so many people!!!! my science teacher is p cool n i wanna be like him!!

👻 do you believe in ghosts and why? idk but uhh i like buzzfeed unsolved so

🎀 what’s your fashion sense like? black, hoodies n sweaters n LEGGINGS

🎬 what are some of your favourite films? the captain america movies!!!!

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groundramon · 7 years ago

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I’m bored and I cant focus on my drawing so...

Since I’ve been ratting on Teen Titans all week even tho I insist I like the show (I SWEAR TO GOD I DO...I was off-put at first but? its okay, its hard for shows to immediately hook me), I think it’s only fair to list some of my major problems with some of my all-time favorite shows and some other shows that are currently on that aren’t really my favorite, but I still think are objectively decent and arguably pretty damn good.

I’m not gonna go in order from best to worst but here we go: (keep reading tag because this is going to get really fucking long and ik i dont usually do this with my rants but i feel like i should this time, idk im inconsistent this is a personal blog sorry)

Steven Universe: - I sometimes feel bad critiquing SU because it’s not too far into its run. I love the show, some of the moments and even full episodes are legitimately mesmerizing, but it...has quite a few problems, yeah.

- The one I bitch the most about is the pacing. Steven Universe tries to combine serialized storytelling, which is telling an overarching story over the course of several episodes (IE Avatar: The Last Airbender, most anime, ect), and episodic storytelling, which is telling several smaller stories that each fit in one episode with little to nothing connecting them besides the characters (IE SpongeBob, We Bare Bears, most cartoons honestly). But emphasis on “tries”; Steven Universe, unfortunately, is not very good at blending these two styles. Steven Universe ridgedly adheres to the idea of having a season that is half filler/”townie” episodes and half “cool alien”/plot-related stuff - and this is something that’s been confirmed, by the way. So while this was fine in the first season (where the only true overarching plot-related episodes that weren’t just worldbuilding were at the end of the season) and the second season (where the plot episodes can be summed up all-together as “they catch and befriend Peridot and learn, not stop, the Cluster”), it isn’t in the later seasons. Season 3 has the following plot points: the Cluster is defeated, Malachite is found and defeated and defused, Lapis joins the Crystal Gems, more homeworld gems (rubies) find earth, Jasper is corrupted and bubbled, its revealed that Rose Quartz shattered (killed) someone, and Steven gets lost in space because of a plan gone wrong with the Rubies (and he’s rescued in the last episode). That is a paragraph worth of plot points. And, being generous (IE including plot-forwarding episodes that feel more like filler than actual plot, like the baseball episode) that is 13 twelve-minute episodes worth of content. All of those plot points are addressed in 2.6 hours time. That is not long enough to visit all those episodes. And there are a few more I didnt count that /are/ related to the aliens, but Bismuth and Centipeetle currently irrelevant and weren’t related to the plot points I listed so I didnt mention them.

- I’m also still waiting somewhat impatiently for resolution on certain character arcs. Pearl’s behavior hasn’t been properly addressed for a while and I’m really hoping they dont wimp out of addressing what a piece of shit she can be sometimes. Like, I love Pearl, but get the fuck outta hear with your Pearl stanning shit. She’s unintentionally awful and I lvoe her for it. I’m more patient about Bismuth but.......crewniverse, im starting to get a little impatient with her too. Bring her back. You should’ve brought her back in the next episode, because her friends shouldn’t have left her bubbled, but whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine. (I’m not fine).

- Also, Lapis’s character arc. Wasn’t properly addressed. One episode she was saying she deserved to be with Jasper and the next she seems fine. One episode she hates Peridot and two episodes (well several episodes, but two episodes as far as they appear) later they’re buddy-buddy with one another. I get that there was probably a time gap where they developed closer with one another, but fuck, I would’ve liked to see that instead of Future Boy Zoltron but okay :) (and i dont even hate future boy zoltron, its just one of the few “meh” episodes I bothered to remember the name of)

- SPEAKING OF UNPROPERLY ADDRESSED CHARACTER ARCS I swear to god Crewniverse, if Amethyst was being sincere when she said she didn’t have self esteem issues anymore, I dont think I can call this one of my favorite shows anymore. Where. Where did she find the resolve to get over her self esteem issues. The last time we saw her talk about them was when she broke down in Sardonyx’s room, but, she was speaking through Smoky Quartz (btw, where the fuck has Smoky been? I literally forgot about her because its been so long...). But still, even if she WAS speaking through a fusion, before then she displayed the same self-destructive mindsets and she was never given the resolve to better herself. All she did was wallow in her own pity with Steven (which? relatable, but not constructive). Show us her getting the resolve to better herself. Show her positively reinforcing herself. Have her whisper “you can do this, Amy,” under her breath right before she kick’s a bad guy’s ass. Have her high-five herself, have her cheer for herself, have her be sincerely proud and acknowledging her accomplishments. Because that’s how you fix self esteem issues and kids should be taught that by someone other than a therapist or the internet.

- Just because a lot of these issues could be fixed with time doesn’t change where they are at this moment. The past pacing issues might not ruin the show for me depending on the direction they go in, but I feel like they’re going to continuously make the same mistakes over and over - and with the intense direction this show is going now, the idea of having five filler/townie episodes in a row while Lars is in space is terrifying because of how awful that pacing is. I do not care about Onion, please go back to Lars. But even if they fix it and the rest of the series is near-spotless, what’s done is done, you cant fix the rushed pacing of the past seasons’ stories and the dumb filler that padded out the seasons in the wrong areas.

- Also, another problem with combining episodic and serialized storytelling is that SU’s story gets WAY too serialized for an episodic show. There’s so much going on that you can’t just sit down and watch a random episode of the show and start watching the show from there, which is a huge problem when you have episodes like Onion Gang and Future Boy Zoltron that take up 30% of the episodes and offer literally nothing to the story and honestly arent usually even that great as far as episodic stories go. You cannot have 30% of your serialized show be 100% filler. That’s bad writing. And SU is in denial of the fact that it’s too serialized to be episodic.

Gravity Falls: - I generally cite Gravity Falls as one of the best combiners of the traditional episodic and serialized styles. It’s what Steven Universe dreams of being; it becomes serialized when it counts (the final half of the last season), but up until then, it’s episodic with just a few clues/reoccuring things sprinkled throughout. However, this show is far, far from flawless.

- Some of the episodic shows, and I mean a lot of the episodic shows, have a tendency to feel rather generic. Ah yes, a girl whose obsessed with boys and boybands. Okay. Seen that. A nerdy, whimpy boy who has a crush on a cooler older girl. Again, seen that. I’m not saying that’s all there is to Mable and Dipper; clearly not. But a lot of their traits encompass many different stereotypes, and while the characters themselves aren’t bad, the situations they find themselves in aren’t always the most original. Sometimes I feel like Gravity Falls is a PG-rated Scooby Doo meets Disney Sitcom. Which is okay if you like Scooby Doo and Disney Sitcoms, but it doesn’t always make for the most eloquent storytelling. Which is fine for a kids show, but less fine for one of the cartoons heralded as a harbinger of the current cartoon renaissance (then again, I’m not into hardly any of the other harbingers of the “current cartoon renaissance” and I’d argue that we aren’t in a renaissance at all; we’re just finally, finally getting some decent cartoons after the awfulness that was the late 2000s)

- I’m gonna say it; we should’ve learned more about Ford’s adventures in the other dimension. It’s possible some of the non-animation related materials (namely books) have information about his travels, but as it stands, I havent got a clue what happened to him during those years. And I want to know. I should know. Its a glaring plot hole in all honesty, because we should know what happened to him and how it affected him. Or maybe im overreacting idk.

Voltron: Legendary Defender: - Hoo boy, where do I even start with VLD

- VLD seems like a show that wants to be character-driven but somehow refuses to. It wants you to be emotionally attached to the characters, but either it does that and does nothing with it, or it doesn’t even bother to do that. The only characters whose struggles I care about are Pidge, Shiro, Allura, and only as of season 3, Keith. Allura I was kinda on the fence about until season 3 but thankfully, if season 3 did one thing right, it was Keith and Allura (and yes I know people are complaining abt Allura’s treatment but I like watching my faves suffer). That leaves two paladins - and Coran, but I’ll give him a pass because literally the only show that’s done a comedy relief right is ATLA so I’m not expecting him to be superbly well-developed - that I dont give a shit about.

- Lets start with Hunk. GOD I want to love Hunk so much. So FUCKING much. But every time a new season comes out, I feel more and more disappointed. This show is so obsessed with melding him down to “the fat kid who eats a lot and makes a lot of dumb jokes” and it’s....so disappointing, because there’s so much potential here for something more. In the first episode of the series, we see Hunk display cowardice (which isn’t an uncommon trait for a fat stereotype) and a prowess for engineering. Yes he’s a bit of a fat stereotype, but you know what? I dont care if a fat character is cowardly, makes bad puns, likes to eat, throws up a lot, all that jazz. I care that they’re more than that. I hate the idea that a character having a stereotypical trait (assuming its not straight-up a caricature) makes them automatically stereotypical. Sorry buddy but smart asian people exist. Preppy blondes exist. And food-loving fat people exist (hi! i know that last one is true because I am one). But they’re so obsessed with ignoring Hunk’s other traits - his love of cooking and his engineering skills. I dont even remember if he used his engineering skills in season 2 and I know he only used it once in season 3. He didnt even cook in season 3. And I think the most telling thing in this show is how the show described Hunk’s relationship with Shiro. As Keith was expressing grief over loosing essentially his big brother figure, Lance thought back to when he viewed Shiro as a legend and a hero, Pidge reminisced about how her father and brother used to praise the guy, and Hunk? Hunk basically said “uhhhhhh he taught me to pilot my lion.....that counts right.” Because Hunk has no relationship with Shiro. Because Hunk has no relationship with any character. He doesn’t even have that much of a relationship with Lance, and the two seemed to be best friends - or at least friends - prior to the formation of team Voltron. At best, Hunk is friends with Lance and Pidge. But all Hunk has done with Keith is make bad jokes while Keith acted all loner-y, and Hunk hasn’t even interacted with Allura and Shiro.

- Now, speaking of Lance, lets talk about him. While Hunk gets points from me because he’s a sweetheart who deserves better, Lance is a flirter whose too high on his own horse and makes even worse jokes than Hunk does. Considering Lance is the one we follow in the first episode, I would’ve expected him to be the most centric member of the team. But first off, fuck me for projecting anime stereotypes/tropes onto a western cartoon (even though voltron was originally an anime kinda but shhh), but secondly he actually is...the most forgettable of all the Paladins. Yeah I said it. I legitimately dont like Lance at this point. Yeah, I said that too. I basically cant remember anything about him besides the fact that he flirts and jokes around a lot and that Klance is inescapable (like, not that its inevitable that you’ll ship it, but you’ll never escape the fandom for it). He’s Sokka with all the charm, intelligence, and depth taken out of him, and also bi but that’s the only improvement. Seriously, what...draws you all to Lance? I dont want to judge, but he’s just....so stereotypical. So boring to me, despite being the most lively paladin. And the development cockteasing. Oh, the development cockteasing. I cant tell you how many times I’ve gotten my hopes up specifically because of something the show said about Lance/Lance seeming to be insecure about something, only for them to immediately shoot it down and replace it with more bad jokes or...nothing at all. Because did Lance even do anything in season 3? He pilots Red now, he had a funny bit with Blue during the “breakup”, he comforted Keith, Keith comforted him, uhhhh ??? did he even have a line in episode 7?? I feel like there might’ve been episodes where he literally had no speaking parts. The only good things I can say about Lance so far are: 1. sometimes hes really fucking funny, and 2. it looks like they COULD be building up to something. But if they’re just cockteasing me all the way through, I’m disowning dreamworks entirely.

- The tone of the show? also shouldn’t vary as much as it does. The tone of a show varying is fine, but it shouldn’t vary in the way it does in Voltron prior season 3 (I’ll get to what I mean by that in a second). In season 1 and season 2, the heavy moments of the show were almost entirely carried by Shiro; there was something for Pidge and something for Keith, but even then, Shiro got involved or was there for the entire time. Shiro, by merely existing, brings the tone of this show down to something almost too serious for a kid’s show (emphasis on almost). During the light-hearted parts, he just has to keep his mouth shut, because the only time he’s done anything funny (besides ironically funny like with his new outfit and haircut) was when he was yelling at Sven. Yelling should not be your only source of humor. But the rest of the show? Was pretty goofy, yeah it took itself seriously sometimes but it also knew how to have fun. Which is fine, a show should be able to have fun sometimes. But that means all parts of the show, including Shiro. Shiro is physically incapable of having fun and that’s kind of sad. Season 3 was better about this though; nothing in season 3 felt fun and goofy, like at all, besides Lance taking selfies with girls in the first episode, and that was just one scene. So I mean, they didn’t fix their problem, but the tone didn’t vary as much. And I’m not saying the tone shouldn’t vary. No, it should; you shouldn’t have all serious moments or all goofy moments. Have some fun, but also take yourself seriously sometimes. The problem is that parts of the show can’t take themselves seriously (Lance, Hunk) and other parts of the show can’t take a joke (Shiro, Zarkon/any villain too but they get a pass since they’re villains).

- Also we REALLY should know all of the Paladins’ backstories by now, ESPECIALLY Keith’s. I know his is a mystery, but we need to know what he knows or else we cant get invested in the mystery. If we dont have the same facts as the characters, we dont know where to start or what to expect. We should’ve also seen flashbacks to Lance and Hunk’s families - ESPECIALLY Lance’s, since he seemed to care so much about them, but welp now that’s gone :). We should’ve also seen more flashbacks to Pidge’s family but at least she’s trying to find them. Nobody else gives a shit about their families and I just. Aaaaaaaaaa this show infuriates me sometimes.

Avatar: The Last Airbender: - There’s nothing wrong with ATLA, move the fuck along

- I’M JOKING IM JOKING SWEATS okay but it’s no surprise I like ATLA and think its near flawless. But still, it’s near-flawless, not flawless.

- If you cant stand a little kiddish cheese, you wont be able to stand ATLA. ATLA takes itself super seriously for something on Nickelodeon, especially something on Nickelodeon in the mid-to-late 2000s (god I wish I watched this show as a kid, my standards would’ve been so much higher and i would’ve known what animation could actually do if you tried) but it’s still written for kids. Which is fine! I actually prefer things written for children over things written for adults. But if you can’t handle something with content that’s clearly written for children, ATLA isn’t for you.

- Ozai fucking sucks. There’s no other way to put it, his character fucking sucks. He’s meant to be the embodiment of pure evil, he’s not meant to be sympathetic like Zuko, but for fuck’s sake, we needed his backstory. And no, The Search doesn’t count; love that comic book, but that’s not enough backstory on Ozai (unless I’ve forgotten an important scene in the comic, idk its been a while). Azula isn’t a sympathetic villain but we see her reasons and backstory. Give us something like that for Ozai. Show us a character that was emotionally neglected and then grew up in a society where killing and genocide were encouraged and praised. THATS the backstory for Ozai I want. I want to know where he came from to fuel my hatred for him, to see him as a real person but not as someone who should’ve done what he did, and I want to hate him BECAUSE he feels like a character. Right now he just feels like the embodiment of evil and that doesn’t make for a good, truly intimidating villain. A truly intimidating villain is one that you understand and can possibly relate to. Not...whatever the hell Ozai is.

- Katara and Aang’s romance plot fucking sucks. I am ace/aro and cannot write romance for shit nor tell when characters have chemistry, but I can still tell this. It’s not...forced? It’s not...rushed? But it’s unnecessary and poorly written and it’s just puppy love and honestly if it was real live I couldnt see their relationship lasting. Also the idea of seeing someone as a brother and then dating them later is verrrry .... poorly worded to say the least bUT ANYWAYS NEXT BULLET POINT

- Toph and Suki could’ve been developed more. Like, they were okayly developed, they were great characters, but idk. Toph didn’t grip me nearly as much as Sokka, Aang, and Katara and I feel kind of bad about it, but thinking about how much development the others got compared to her, it’s not really surprising. I also am not the hugest fan of rude characters anymore, but I digress. Also Suki. Suki had like, little to no development. I want Suki to be part of Team Avatar. Can we do that

- General Zhao also fucking sucks. He’s so generic that the first few times I watched the show, I forgot he was even a significant reoccuring villain.

- Sokka could’ve also been more developed but they could’ve all been more developed honestly? You can always add to perfection. I shouldnt complain about Sokka tho, he was finely developed and I love my nonbending son

The Legend of Korra: - Uhhhh the first season’s ending? 0/10 bad, rushed, not good. I wanted to see Korra deal with the loss of her other elements. I wanted to see her cope with that. But no, because Nickelodeon kept screwing over LOK, they had to rush it because otherwise it wouldn’t have been a happy ending for the series if they potentially had to end it after one season. Fuck Nickelodeon :) but I’m still going to critique LOK for it even if it is Nickelodeon’s fault.

- Bolin and Mako were horribly underdeveloped. Especially Bolin. It’s so sad how underdeveloped “Team Avatar” was in this series compared to the last series. I feel bad complaining about Toph, Suki, and ESPECIALLY Sokka in comparison to LOK. The only one even comparably as bad is Suki, but she got half a season to be developed and these two got an entire series. We got some of their backstory and then...that was it, besides the love triangle that Bolin was barely part of. I guess they were kinda irrelevant for season 2 and season 4, but they had no reason to be missing in the later half of season 4, plus they had season 1 and season 3, so.... God, poor Bolin. It would’ve been nice to see a nice (fat) comic relief guy like him get the same treatment as Sokka, but whatever....its fine.......ill just sit here patiently waiting for my good representation coughs. Also all Mako did was do the love triangle and I Do Not Like Him for it. Keith is a better Mako than Mako ever was because Keith dont need no love triangle and also he already has more development

- Asami also should’ve been more developed, but it looks like there’s potential for more development in the comics so thats good. From the series alone though, she was pretty flat; better than Bolin and Mako for sure, better than Suki from the original series, but not nearly as good as Toph or the others. At least she did have some development and a likeable personality that’s relatively original.

- I hate saying this but...Korrasami should’ve been more developed. I wouldn’t like, take points off of a rating for this point because I mean it was the first lesbian/gay representation in a kids cartoon (from my understanding) and Nick might not’ve even known they were sneaking in something romantic at the end, not to mention they completely subverted the love triangle plot so it actually gains back favor in that way and its great. Also, I mean, they had that buy-curious joke lmao. And I’m pretty sure its expanded upon more in the comic; there wasn’t really room to expand upon it in the show because it was just starting. But they probably could’ve done better than that. It was still okay though and also, the subverting of the love triangle trope is the greatest thing ever and i long for the day that I can do that plot twist in one of my shows lmao.

- The Villains could’ve been more developed. Besides Ammon (who is FUCKING AWESOME and you can FIGHT ME) they all had the same problem as Ozai; we dont have many reasons to see them as human or relatable and it makes it hard to hate them as much as we should. I mean, they do show /some/ human qualities which I appreciate, but I dont entirely understand their motivations half the time and I want to know how they came to view the world the way they do. But at least unlike Ozai, they do feel somewhat human. (Except maybe Unaloq, I didnt like Unaloq very much)

And that’s like half of what I could say about each of those shows, and those are just some of my favorite shows I watch. Dont ask me to go off on like, AOT or something, because I’ll be writing for another three hours lmao (actually feel free to because i wanna INSULT this PIECE OF GARBAGE ANIME that looks rlly pretty but otherwise IS BAD AND IDK WHY I WATCH IT lmao [idk if im joking or sincere sorry]) No show is flawless so I’m going to insult whichever flaws I see. Fight me.

#stormy speaks #stormy shut up about steven universe jfc #i should use a more general tag than that for my analysis ramblings huh #so i can include posts that dont analyze SU #oh well

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namjoonbby1 · 8 years ago

Text

What Happens In Vegas

Pairing - Reader x Jungkook [Taehyung is a main character as well]

Genre - Stripper Au

Word Count - 3300

Part 9/11

A/n - Just A TON of self reflection from all of the characters perspectives, this part is crazy. Please like or comment on this if you like it. It gives me motivation to keep writing. Thanks for reading! (:

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Ten

Masterlist

The next morning, I woke up but didn’t have to look to realize that Taehyung wasn’t next to me which meant he probably wasn’t home and I didn’t know weather or not he had even come home last night. I then immediately searched for my phone, which I found laying next to me and checked to see if Jungkook had called me back. He hadn’t and I wondered how long he was going to be mad at me. I let out a deep breathe of air as I realized I had to work all day today. I really didn’t want to go to work today when my heart was heavy with my feelings for Jungkook.

I understood why he would be mad at me, I had claimed that I had feelings for him but then left him for another man. I just wished he would at least call me back so that I could explain everything to him. I couldn’t bare the thought of him being this upset with me. I slowly got out of the bed and walked into our bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror noticing that the scar on my lip was already healing. I touched it softly and thought about the look on Tae’s face when he hit me.

Taehyung could be a very intimidating person but that was the first time in my life that I had actually felt afraid of him. Afraid of what he was going to say or do, just of him in general. Was love supposed to be this way?

I then thought about Jungkook and his face when he had seen what Tae had done, he was thoroughly pissed off. He was upset and yet I wasn’t afraid or intimidated by him. The emotions I felt with Jungkook were completely different then the ones I felt with Taehyung.

My heart was conflicted. Taehyung was someone that I was very familiar with. I had been with him since I was eighteen. He was there when my parent’s died and he promised he always be there, which I believed. Taehyung supported me financially and I knew I would never be without anything if I was with him. He gave me everything I wanted and needed materially. But he could be possessive, controlling and selfish at times.

He always worried that I would cheat on him with someone from the club, which is why I believe he insisted on having sex with me almost every night regardless of how tired or not into it I was. I almost felt bad when Taehyung admitted that he cheated on me because it seemed like I wasn’t into having sex with him anymore. I don’t even remember how it had gotten that way but he was right. When we started dating we were a very sexually active couple, we’d make love every day twice a day sometimes. But lately, coincidentally after meeting Jungkook, I really haven’t wanted to have sex with my boyfriend. Maybe because the thought of having sex with him when I may be in love with another guy made me feel guilty. Ironic isn’t it?

I then thought about when Jungkook and I made love to one another. It was amazing and passionate and I honestly can’t say that I’ve ever had an experience like that in my entire life. Jungkook was caring, funny and not to mention attractive, but I still had so many worries. I knew that Taehyung wanted to be with me forever he proved that with his proposal. But Jungkook he had only met me months ago, how could I be sure that he wanted to have a future with me. Although Jungkook surely didn’t make anything near what Taehyung did he had a stable career and aspirations to be a writer, I thought that was commendable. But if I left Taehyung for Jungkook how would I support myself? I certainly couldn’t strip anymore.

My head was a mess there was so much going on inside of it that I had a crippling headache. I opened up the medicine cabinet to look for medicine but discovered that there was none there. I decided that maybe taking a bath would help so I ran bath water.

I sat in the bath contemplating my life. I had no idea what I was going to do, especially considering the fact that Jungkook wouldn’t even talk to me. All I could do was close my eyes and try to drown out my thoughts. But when I closed my eyes I saw him. No, not my boyfriend of five years. I saw Jungkook’s face. I knew what my heart wanted, I just wasn’t sure if my mind would allow it.

Jungkook’s POV

She hadn’t called him back yet and he was starting to get nervous. Maybe her boyfriend had seen that he called and gotten upset with her. What if he had gotten so angry that he hit her again?

He didn’t want to jump to the worst possible outcome but he knew with Taehyung’s temper it wasn’t a far off possibility. Jungkook tried to clear those thoughts out of his head as he finished getting dressed.

Today was day one of working with the author so Jungkook packed his luggage and headed out the door. As he drove to Vegas he thought about the fact that he would be in the same city as y/n but wouldn’t even be able to see her. He then realized that he needed to focus on his writing and not to get distracted. Plus they say distance makes the heart grow fond and since Jungkook had met y/n they hadn’t gone a day without speaking. So maybe this would be good for the both of them.

Working with the author was a great distraction from y/n. Something that Jungkook was extremely passionate about. He felt like writing was an outlet for him. A time where he could forget about his problems and focus on someone else’s. He could build a story with characters that had emotions, wishes, desires so strong that he would forget about his own. Not only that but Jungkook was a pretty badass writer and the author he was working with didn’t let him forget it.

He said that this was his first time collaborating with anyone on a book but that Jungkook’s writing style was so similar to his that he could draw inspiration from it.

After working for several hours Jungkook finally headed back to his hotel room. He ended up at the bar on the second level and was just about to order his second drink when his phone started to buzz in his pocket.

Taehyung’s POV

His phone was buzzing and he excused his self from the room to take the call until he realized it was from the police department. The must have found Zoe’s body. How could they have found it so quickly though?

No one knew about her or cared enough to check on her besides y/n and he had ordered her to stay far away. He had no clue who had discovered her body but he didn’t want it to be so soon. He wasn’t ready to be interrogated by the police.

He remembered Zoe telling him that she had put his name on the birth certificate. So he assumed that’s why the police had called him. He wasn’t worried about being interrogated though, he had an alibi. He was out of town meeting with his business partner. Plus he had set everything up so well. Zoe was already getting high when he had entered her place it was easy to finish her off and make it seem like an overdose.

He was sure that the cops wouldn’t even investigate, they surely see tons of cases of strippers overdosing and no one really cares about it. He wasnt worried at all, as long as y/n didn’t find out that he had been seeing Zoe everything would be fine.

He pocketed his phone and headed back to the room. Today was the last time he’d meet with his partner before the plan was finalized. Taehyung was thrilled, as he already had extremely rich clients willing to purchase the girls. He was interrupted a couple of minutes later by his phone ringing again and decided he would turn it off. But not before he noticed it was y/n calling him this time.

Fuck, he had forgotten that she was close to Zoe and that she might be questioned. This bitch was making things difficult for him even from the grave. But as long as they didn’t mention the fact that he was on the child’s birth certificate everything would be okay.

Taehyung could always deny it though. He could say that she was a crazy bitch who was obsessed with him (which she was) and wanted nothing more than to ruin their relationship. Yeah, that sounded good. He really couldn’t afford y/n being mad at him anymore, she still hadn’t gotten over his affair with Stephanie. If she found out that he was sleeping with her best friend and had gotten her pregnant he would need more than an engagement ring to fix that.

Y/n’s POV

The day was over and I was finally going to go home. After saying goodbye to the girls in the dressing room I walked out into the cold night.

I walked to my car but as I was walking my phone started to ring. My heart rate increased as I suspected that it was Jungkook returning my call but was disappointed to see that was not the case.

“Hello?”

“Hi is this Ms. Y/l/n?”

“Yes, how may I help you.”

“We were trying to get ahold of Kim Taehyung but we haven’t been able to would you mind coming down to the police station?” An officer asked.

“May I ask what this is about?” I wondered. Why would Taehyung or I be needed at the police station?

“Something has happened with Zoe and we need to question either of you. So we need you to come down as soon as possible.”

I immediately went into panic mode, what could have happened to Zoe that I was being called to the police station and not hospital? Had she been caught using drugs and had been detained? But what would that have to do with Taehyung?

My heart raced as got into my car and started it, I tried to calm down my nerves before finally pulling off and heading to the police station. So many things were running through my head right now, I had no clue what to expect.

When I finally got there, I walked into the department and looked around for someone could help. An officer noticed my confused state and walked over to me.

“Ms. Y/l/n? Im the officer you spoke with over the phone.”

“What’s going on with Zoe?” I asked frantically looking over and noticing that some women was holding Mariah.

“I’m so sorry to inform you that Zoe was found dead in her apartment a little while ago.”

“What? Oh my god.” I said mouth ajar in disbelief.

“Im so sorry to tell you this.”

“What happened to her?” I asked as I started to cry.

“The social worker went to check on Mariah and when no one answered the door she entered to discover that Zoe was unconsciousness. We just got the coroner’s report back and she seems to have died from a drug overdose.

“Oh my god.” I knew that Zoe was using drugs but I hadnt realized that it was this serious. I instantly felt horrible about the last interaction I had with her. Once the tears started I could stop them. I thought about how close Zoe and I were at one point in time and I felt horrible.

“But what does this have to do with Taehyung?” I asked. I had almost forgotten that the police were trying to get a hold of him when they called me.

“We wanted to reach out to him for Mariah’s sake.” She stated.

“What does he have to do with Mariah?” I asked.

“He is her father and - ”

“Father?” I interrupted. “No I’m sorry there must be some sort of mistake. Taehyung only met Zoe once.” I said.

“Ms. Y/l/n, Kim Taehyung is listed as the father on Mariah’s birth certificate.”

“What?” I said as my head started to spin. Taheyung hardly knew Zoe, he couldn’t have had a child with her.

“I’m sorry, I just need a moment to call my boyfriend.” I let the officer know.

I walked outside to try and catch my breath. I had just found out that one of my closest friends had died from an overdose and that my boyfriend might be her daughter’s father. As soon as my breathing was normal I took out my phone to call Taehyung. The phone rang and he didnt answer. I tried calling several more times but he still wasn’t answering.

I didn’t have anyone to turn to and I was an emotional wreck. I thought about Jungkook and how he was always there when I needed him but I knew he was still upset with me. I decided anyway to call him.

“Hello?”

“Jungkook, I know your upset with me but I really need to talk to you right now.”

“Y/n are you crying right now? What’s going on?” He asked.

“Im at the police station. My friend is dead.” I said now sobbing into the phone from hearing Jungkook’s voice.

“Which police station? I’m coming to get you.” He replied.

“No no no, I don’t want you to drive this far. I’ll be fine I’m just in shock right now.”

“Y/n, I’m in vegas. Tell me which police station so I can come get you.” He stated.

He was in town? How long had he been here?

I told him where I was and he said he was only ten minutes away so I waited outside for him to get there. I tried to call Taehyung again and even left a voicemail. I saw Jungkook’s car pull up and he rushed out of it to greet me.

“Baby are you okay?” He said walking towards me briskly. He grabbed me into his arms and I cried onto his chest.

“She’s dead Jungkook.” I said.

“Whos dead?” He said lifting my head so that I could look him in the eyes. I was sobbing still and couldn’t form the words to tell him everything.

“Let’s go sit in the car for a minute before you go back in there. I need you to calm down and explain to me what’s going on okay.”

I nodded to him that I understood and followed him to the car. He opened the door for me and I got in and then he got in on his side. He handed me a box of Kleenex that was in his glove compartment and rubbed my back as I cried. He didn’t say anything to me but let me get a hold of my self. I sat in silence for over thirty minutes looking out of the car window and trying to process what was happening. Every time I tried to talk I would start crying again, until finally I was able to keep my composure.

“I got a call saying that I needed to come down to the police station because something had happened to my friend Zoe. When I got here I was informed that she had died because of a drug overdose.” I told Jungkook.

“I’m so sorry y/n.” Jungkook said doing his best to comfort me.

“You know what’s the worst part about this entire situation? I knew that she was using drugs and I didn’t do anything to help her, I’m ultimately responsible for her death.”

“You are not responsible for her death. It’s unfortunate that she passed but you couldn’t do anything about her drug addiction. Do not blame yourself.”

“The last time I saw her I was so upset I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” I told him trying to hold back ressurfacing tears. “Also the officer told me something really strange Jungkook.”

“What is it?”

“She told me that Zoe listed Taehyung on Mariah’s birth certificate as her father.”

“What? Taheyung was seeing her as well? Did you know about this?” He asked.

“No, I had no clue. I’m not even sure if it’s true yet. Zoe didn’t even know Taehyung!” I exclaimed.

“I don’t know y/n, I would put it pass him. You don’t know everything he is capable of and this wouldn’t be the first time he’s cheated on you.”

The reality was hard to hear but Jungkook was right. Although Stephanie was the first girl he admitted to cheating with, only because he had been caught, I’m beginning to believe she wasn’t his first.

“Where is your boyfriend right now? Does he know what’s going on?” He asked.

“I suppose he went out of town for business. I dont think he came home last night but I’m not really sure. He isn’t answering my calls.” I replied.

“Y/n don’t you think it’s a bit coincidental that he went out of town the same night the mother of his child died?” Jungkook asked.

“Jungkook, what are you insinuating?” I asked shocked that he would even suggest what I thought he was suggesting.

“I’m just saying never deny the obvious.” He replied.

“She overdosed though. I know she was an addict, she had so much cocaine at her house when I went there.” I said.

“Yeah, your probably right. But y/n I think it’s time you leave taehyung. And I’m not saying that because I want you to be with me. If you leave him and decided you don’t want to be with me as well I would accept that. I just think for your own safety and happiness, you should leave him.”

“I want to leave him, I haven't been happy for a while with him and since he cheated on me with Stephanie and since I started to fall for you, I haven’t wanted to be with him.”

“Well then, it should be easy for you to leave him.” Jungkook said.

“No, Jungkook he has something he could use against me.” I replied.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I’m afraid to tell you.” I said shaking my head.

“Y/n, you are going to have to give me something to work with. Come on, help me understand.”

“He knows something, he knows what I did.”

“Tell me what you did.” He said grabbing my hand. I shook my head again as tears started to pour down my face again. “Y/n regardless of what you did I’ll always be here for you. Now tell me what he has on you.”

I looked up at Jungkook and prepared to tell him. To tell him the secret that I had been hiding for four years. The secret that no one in the world besides Taehyung and I knew. The secret that could get my life taken away from me and that I could be locked away forever for. The secret that haunted me every night before I went to sleep. The secret that I hadn’t even been able to say out loud.

Until now.

“He knows who I killed.”

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