#it's just that he's had more time to both process and desensitize himself to this trauma than the other Black Roseites

[dead-eyes-roll]

QUICK TW: i mention gore briefly, and i talk abt murder, and other bodily gross stuff. also, spoilers for both episodes (so far) of Generation Loss. You’ve been warned.

Wait…

In the first episode (Spirit of the Cabin), the fridge spells out “BEHIND YOU” in magnets.

Theory 1: What if that was Charlie trying to get Ranboo to look behind him at the set. To see the directors, the mall (assuming this set takes place there [yes it does]), and to see that he can leave. To help him.

Because I think that all the major characters (Slime, Sneeg, and The Puzzler, AKA Jerma) we’re contestants before Ranboo, and want to help him get out (Maybe even H was a contestant? [At first I thought “no”, but he had to go through some sort of process before the Founder assigned him his task, right?])

Example One (Charlie): Charlie is supposed to play a villain role, but he makes Ranboo do simple tasks, although he did make fun of him (but the first episode was supposed to be very comedic, it was Gen 1 remember? It’s going to get way darker). And, in Episode 2 (The Mastermind of the Warehouse), he helped out Ranboo again with the whole towel thing.

(On a similar note, I have a theory that Charlie died in Episode 2, a second before Slimetowel made himself known. So when Charlie died, because he was literally gutted, his ghost, The Slime Spirit, another character he plays, acted to help Ranboo. That explains how he can play to characters at once. He didn’t. He died. Because they never go back to the Carousel Room, they stay in the Candy Room, and that room leads to the Fashion Room, which leads to the Toy Room, and we all know where that leads.) (Also, that means Ranboo has been carrying around a bloody towel this whole time.) [i still believe this both of these tbh]

Example Two (Sneeg): Sneeg helps Ranboo during the Hole in the Wall “bit”, and he’s a general ally the whole time. Sticking with Ranboo, and being the first ally of the show, with Episode One.

Example Three (The Puzzler, AKA Jerma): While at first, he seems like he’s trying to kill Ranboo, he isn’t. He worried when he thinks he killed Ranboo (In the first room, when Ranboo passes out from the volts [ha no he DIES]) and he is a generally comedic villain (And I know, that’s the point of the show, to desensitize horror to the point of it being funny, but he never hurts Ranboo), and lastly, just a personal theory. Right before they (The Rats) bring Charlie in from the surgery room, The Puzzler says, “Does anyone hear screaming?” But there was no screaming, Charlie had been making jokes last time we saw him. So, The Puzzler can see (or hear) through the filter, and maybe he was trying to hint to Ranboo that something wasn’t right. [i forgot abt this one! i still think it’s right]

ok, im done now. I know this theory probably isn’t a theory and makes no sense, but it makes sense to me, so, yeah. bye genlosers [just some brainrot]

Edit: I called The Puzzler the riddler lol and I made some changes to try to make things more understandable :)

Edit 2: Okay, so I’ve seen the last episode, and the Founders Cut isn’t out yet, red text stands for my thoughts now.

Edit 3: mk is gonna re-format with blue

[sneezemonster15]

Besides naruto and sasuke, who are some of your other favorite characters?

Gaara. I related with him the most in the entire manga. His backstory was the moment when I got truly hooked. Kishi had me by his claws. I was very invested in his story and it was quite apparent that he was one of the crucial characters that would affect the plot and the protagonist in the process of which, both will undergo change, and so there was a lot of anticipation there.

Neji. While I appreciate him more in retrospect, because this was a boy who stood in the middle of the stadium where all the kages and jounins and the civilians were gathered, and fearlessly talked of oppression supported by the system at the risk of being rendered paralysed or half dead by his slavemaker curse, at the time I liked how he carried himself. Intelligent and talented, a no nonsense dude. And he shut Hinata up who was deliberately egging him on. I loved their fight during chuunin exams, I would not have minded if he were allowed to keep going on... He is individualistic and strong, he is a non conformist and has solid reasons to be that way, I appreciate that.

Deidara. He is just so much fun. Kishi can write all sorts of villains, that's one of his many strengths. He doesn't have a tragic backstory like others, and he doesn't suffer from savior complex or mad acquisition of knowledge and secrets of the world, or retribution (except for Itachi, but that's just another art driven shenanigans of his). He does it for art, lol. He is just a crazy, artsy guy who loves arson. Lol. And that makes up for interesting, engaging action.

Orochimaru. Another wonderful villain. He creates a sense of dread, a certain squirmy quality that is also very thrilling and suspense building. He is so cunning, always one step ahead. He always has an Uno reverse card in his sleeve. Lol. And his wit. Lolol. He is so catty and incisively so. He is also the product of this system and he has a very real insight into this world himself but he has been desensitized. He uses the system itself for his own objective, that benefits his own self. He is certainly a very interesting character in his own right. And he is the only adult who takes a serious stand for Sasuke and that means something. Because it is done in front of all the dead kages, no matter how strong they were.

Madara. Crazy mofo. I happen to love characters that are hella strong, intelligent, stylish, have a sense of humor and are justifiably arrogant. I love how he keeps roasting the five kages, acting like the cat playing with the little mice just for fun before killing them off. I like bloody mayhem in a battle, and this man is so skilled and so powerful, it just makes for such good and humorous action. Not to mention his crazy obsession with Hashirama, he is strong but has his vulnerabilities and doesn't care to hide them, I mean the man just plants his ass on the ground like a stubborn child in a cereal aisle when Hashi sends his clone to fight him, like he just won't be mollycoddled. He is enjoying the battle so much. He exemplifies battle lust. Also, I liked how he was not so predictable. Hashirama sends Sasuke to somehow reason with Madara seeing he looked like Izuna. But Madara wasn't having it. He won't be manipulated. The way he was backstabbed by that piddly ass Black Zetsu, just like Hashirama did, was just cruel man. Kishi and his cruel parallels.

Kakuzu and Hidan. I say both of their names because their rapport is what brings out both their characters. They are snarky, stylish, well Hidan is, smart, strong and form a good team. Their fight with Naruto, Shikamaru and the rest of the team was pretty enjoyable.

I would say Temari, she is bold, sharp, strong, confident, displays strong leadership, with a level head on her shoulders. But of course, her character is not very explored, and I wish it was. I also like sand siblings' dynamic. Kankuro also has his good moments, funny dude. I would have also liked to see Tenten been given a chance. Oh Kish..

Gai. He is a kind man, always positive but not in a toxic way. Persevered despite his handicap and worked haaard. Strong, sensitive, vulnerable, has a close bond with his team, and is the perennial cheerleader. He cares for his friends, subordinates, and doesn't back away from a fight. He was already knocking on death's door when he decided to tackle Madara, and he did it with such aplomb. Impressive. His interaction with Kisame is also quite funny. I like Kisame as well. Such a gentleman. I also like his backstory, quite a complex one.

Yamato. The perennial nanny. The babysitter. He used to work for Root so he doesn't know how to deal with other peoples' individuality. But he tries. He takes his team out for a nice stay at an expensive inn, treats them to good food, all so that his team can bond and not be at each other's throat all the time. He does care about his team, and he is always trying to be the peacekeeper. I also like his dynamic with Naruto. At first, Naruto finds him scary/weird but then finds out he is just a pumpkin on the inside. So he teases him and plays pranks, and Yamato reacts just like how an exasperated older sister would to a naughty younger brother's pranks. Lol. And he is strong and smart. He has some good comedic moments, and he learns not to take himself so seriously. I would have liked to see him in action during the war arc but sadly, Kishi decided not to have him.

Suigetsu. That boy knows how to self preserve. He is bold, funny and a little devilish. He likes chaos and doesn't care for anything other than his own interests. He owns the way he is. He doesn't pretend to be anything different. He doesn't submit to Sasuke, he calls Karin out, he makes fun of Juugo, he takes everyone on. He is entertaining. But he also supports and helps Sasuke in his effort for revolution, he is adamant about it too. I also like his pointy teeth. Heh.

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

Agatha didn't want to go to the movies with Simon.

It seems like such a small and unimportant detail, but to me, it says everything. We have imagery, "symbols" or "shortcuts" used to represent romance or young love. We find them in visual media: girl and boy, facing each other, the girl's arms around his neck as they lean in, the boy always taller. Strong boy carrying the girl, princess style. Strong arms pulling her up, twirling. Sitting on a bench as the girl puts her head on the boy's shoulder. Lying on the grass, side by side, face close. Sitting in front of each other, sharing a drink (one drink, two straws) or on the sofa, with the boy's arms around her shoulder. The movies: in the car, in the theater. I just saw a comic page of two people in love, using a movie date panel and the drink sharing in a "they're together and in love" sequence, when this hit me...

Again: Agatha didn't want to go to the movies with Simon.

I get frustrated when these "shortcuts" or the typical imagery of romance is sincerely applied to those two to envision how their relationship must have looked like – as if our only options are to either operate with outside assumptions (instead of listening to them) or to believe they had a true young romance/were truly teenagers in love or else we're not taking them seriously or treating them with respect... But I think and write about them using "they were neither in love nor sexually attracted, but they dated, why?" as a starting point as much as I do because I'm dead serious, and the answers I arrive at like this feel very interesting and meaningful (comphet and heteronormativity are, after all, very real).

Agatha didn't want to go to the movies with Simon... going to the movies together, as boy and girl, is loaded with implications. It's one of the most typically "romantic" things one can do, one the most typical scenarios for a date. Simon wanting to go to the movies with her has likely little to do with romance and everything to with how, between Watford and the care homes, he had little to no chances to do typical things like going out with friends (and how, given that he stayed at Agatha's house during breaks and Penny was with her family, she would have been the only person around to try to do this) (Penny would have taken him to the movies... if someone saw Penny and Simon together then, they would likely assume they're a couple because again: typical date scenario, heteronormativity, etc)

It seems odd that Agatha would avoid or draw the line here, given that they were already dating anyway, but the manifestations of discomfort and unhappiness don't always "make sense." She even seems desensitized to the discomfort of it all – Simon doesn't think and tries to suppress the hell out of anything that's uncomfortable or bad or fucks him up to a crazy degree, but Agatha is not that far off in terms of making alarms bells go off. She describes recreating a typical "romantic" moment with Simon, but she doesn't say "he put his arms around me" when they were watching a movie on the coach... she paints the picture by describing gross and unappealing sensations (in a scene where at the same time, Simon is beyond uncomfortable, trying to force himself to do something he really doesn't want to do. Telling, that).

All of this is to say: the gestures of "romance" didn't come naturally to Simon and Agatha. They more than likely were not ever the blushy teens lying side by side in the grass while they stare into each other's eyes, they were not the girl happily floating as the strong boy picks her up in her arms and spins them. They imitated and recreated everything they did as a conscious choice (to fit in). They weren't truly impulses or an expression of wants or desires (interesting how the motivation to perform this could have been trying to find themselves, but in the process they were only losing themselves more. Both have a pretty good idea of who they're supposed to be together, but no idea of who they actually are).

Simon, who kisses Baz first and leaves all the thinking for later, actually asks himself "Should I kiss her? We haven't kissed this year yet" or something when it's Agatha. Like he's following a script, or mentally checking a to-do list, or there's a quota to meet, and not like he actually wants to kiss her. How odd it is for Baz to note "Simon has done this before" when Simon is kissing the heck out of him, because Baz is aware of expectations and that people who date would kiss... unless Baz's observation is a slip in a moment about challenging assumptions that reveals Baz hasn't seen them kiss (which would make sense). How a ball dance – part of the "imagery of romance" – is used to indicate so much while conveying the optics of straight romance: while Baz was acting up, making it known he didn't like them together, he targeted the ball and came between them, how Agatha goes "why don't you want to break up? because you don't want to be the only one without a date in a ball? I can go with you as a friend too, you know."

Agatha thinking nothing of using a gift from Simon as target practice; Simon "never mind, it doesn't matter" Snow purposely pushes any thought of getting (physically) close to Agatha in the context of dating out of his head and generally avoids it/wants to act like it never happened (how that contrasts with his "even sitting next to her makes you feel illuminated" when he's deluding himself, which is a closeness that doesn't involve intimacy or touching, a superficial "closeness" you could have with a total stranger), both showing how neither treasures jackshit about their time together – not a single part of it...

Agatha rejecting going to the movies (and what she says about the ball, too) seems to encapsulate how the gestures of romance didn't fit them and (again) didn't come naturally to them. That it comes from Agatha seems fitting too, since she's the one who thinks the most between the two of them

[vellichorom]

how did rosemary forgive the thierry? do they have any long lasting trauma for it? how did thierry then act towards rosemary after figuring out they're real?

addressing the last question first ~

so the thing is- rosemary was FINALLY recognized as a real person / " the true player " if you will, during --i think you can guess-- the game's " Not Stanley Ending. "

( which is less an official ending to their parable & was just. something that happened to them. but the discussion of " what was a legitimate, meant-to-happen game ending for them " vs " what was just an impromptu, horrible event " will have to wait another time )

so upon rosemary disobediently pulling the phone cord from the wall during what was Supposed to lead to the " Apartment Ending ", thierry acted as you'd expect from canon; thinking ( dumbly ) that " stanley " was only JUST usurped by this player figure, & gradually getting all the more frustrated that things weren't going back to normal quick enough, nor the way that he wanted.

however.

cut to them having exhausted all attempts at trying to set things right, escalating to thierry having a pissfit & trying to wholly trash the game. as both him & rosemary stand in the rubble of the office, with him mourning his story, thierry snaps & attempts to remove this " pesky player " manually through the code of the game.

that's when he'd realize that rosemary, real person she was, had been there ALL along. that there was absolutely NO trace of stanley in the game anymore, none that he could find, anyway - & there HADN'T been since he first LAUNCHED the game.

meaning, of course, that this very Real, very Human person who was REALLY just supposed to be behind a screen, playing his game, had been subjected to every bit of venom he'd ever thrown at- what he thought was just an AI. " stanley. " said venom including, violent deaths. hands-on ones, primarily.

& though i've said he's the desensitized sort that wouldn't really be affected by such a thing USUALLY, the moment that realization sunk in- the thought that he was truly a Murderer, & a monster overall?

the man had never known such agony before.

killing the AI was never supposed to mean anything or hold any real consequence, but killing a HUMAN BEING is a different story- & he'd done it EXCITEDLY, COUNTLESS times, MERCILESSLY, HANDS-ON where he couldn't avoid accountability. now, where death had never meant anything to him before, it now meant EVERYTHING.

the game would reload, leaving rosemary enitirely alone in the office as thierry disappeared. to " process the new information. " ( have a violent meltdown & thrust himself into heavy denial )

took a full reset of the game or two for him to come back. & when he DID, things were. awkward, to say the least. after all, how do you come back from THAT. how could he face her now, knowing the weight of her existence in the office? feeling the weight of his own crimes?

but somehow... they got along. they moved on, past it. rosemary was treated less like thierry's puppet & more like a genuine person. thierry walked on eggshells & attempted to use his every breath to redeem himself & apologize. somehow, things gradually began to improve from there.

eventually, they'd come to be on good terms. eventually, they'd become friends. eventually, they'd pine for each other. eventually, they'd date, & even get married at some point, years after the fact.

despite said years still being filled with bloodshed... but it's LONG since been a real crime to them, now it's their fun game. it's what they do on their date nights. it's what they do to relax. for recreation. now they BOTH enjoy it. it's horrible- but they've made it work.

but thierry comes to Forget about the fact that it wasn't ALWAYS the fun & games they've since made it out to be.

rosemary doesn't.

& rosemary doesn't forgive him for it.

[anons-has-hlvrai-aus]

The Metamorphosis of Gordon Freeman [Chapter 4]

“We’re Playing Assassins”

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Forzen invites himself into Gordon’s home.

Word Count: 6,114

Ao3 Version Link

Notes: Thank you everybody for your patience! I hope you like bootboys, because I’ve got 18 of them, you’ll meet some of them in this chapter and the rest in a future chapter. Huge shout out to nbenrey-real on Tumblr for their Speculative Sweet Voice Translation.

“Forzen?”

“That’s my name.”

“It sure is.” Gordon sighed, “Who followed you? What the heck is going on? Why are you trying to come in through my window?”

Forzen slowly looked up at Gordon from his awkward huddle against the side of the house. “We’re playing Assassins. It's like Hide and Seek, except instead of somebody being ‘it’ that person is an assassin, and they have a NERF gun.”

“Th-that sounds bad, that sounds VERY bad. Do either of your cousins know you're out here? I need to call them before you guys take it too far.”

He gave Gordon a dirty look, a glint of what seemed to be fear in his one usable eye. “You think I'd be knocking on your window if they didn't know?”

The sound of foam darts hitting somebody from a couple houses over, followed by a muffled laugh, supplemented the answer.

“Lemme in lemme in lemme in-!”

“Okay okay okay!” He held out his non-dominant hand to pull Forzen inside. “Is it just you and the rest of Neo Team Nice playing?”

“I saw an old guy with glasses chasing after Eddy and Tower earlier, so probably not.”

“That doesn't help me any. There's a lot of people with glasses out here, especially from Black Mesa. You know from experience that people there have itchy trigger fingers.”

“You don't. You're built differently. They're all shoot first, you're all questions and stuff.” He looked around the dimly lit room with mild interest. “Woah, wicked lightshow. Did you have a perk saved up or something?”

Gorden waved him and some strings of Sweet Voice out of his room, “It's a long story, do you need me to put Irate Gamer up on the TV or something?”

“Nah, I can connect with my tablet.” The man threw his backpack onto the front of his chest to rummage around, looking incredibly silly in the process.

“Okay, you go do that.” He plucked a ziplock bag from near the bed. “Do you need anything to eat? I've got a surplus of toast from breakfast this morning, and I know you like yours extra crispy.” He shook it for emphasis.

“You got anything that’s charcoal?” He walked backwards out of the bedroom, skillfully catching a burnt bagel that was tossed his way. “Thanks.”

Once Gordon could hear the distant sounds of YouTube from the other room, he closed the bedroom door and slid himself onto his carpeted floor. Forzen was much more tolerable now that he had permanently bailed from the military, but he still had a few quirks that came from his then-situation as an extremely online 19-year-old. He was better off now, living with his two cousins and the 15 other people that were all raising Legal Hell on the HECU, but for some reason he seemed to gravitate towards Gordon every few months whenever he felt ‘homesick.’ It possibly had something to do with his parents disowning him, but Forzen frequently refused to give any other specifics.

Gordon did not appreciate these visitations at all for the first year or so, given he was still going to therapy at the time, but the man's semi-infrequent appearances had done more good for the both of them overall; Gordon was able to help Forzen engage with other people without immediately resorting to internet memes or YouTube, and in turn Forzen somewhat desensitized Gordon to the sight of camo, berets, and whatever else his brain associated with the HECU that the former soldier just had on him for some reason. Forzen was not on ‘official part of the Science Team’ status yet, what with him still being on thin ice with Tommy, but the fact that, as of last year, he and a few of his buddies from The Frat (AKA “Neo Team Nice”) were being considered for invitation to some of the Science Team's regular celebrations was a sign of progress.

There was certainly some irony in the fact that Gordon was more quick to invite a former bootboy into his life than he was of Benrey; they were pretty much the same person in some ways, but the differences were pretty transparent in Gordon’s eyes.

Forzen had literally been a kid trying to pay for college when he and the Science Team crossed paths. The guy wasn't even supposed to be deployed! Benrey, meanwhile, had intentionally made himself a problem for Gordon at every possible opportunity, and the three or so days they’d spent together had been more than enough Benrey for his lifetime. Forzen showed up in small doses, and usually left before he got too annoying to be around (even if he was getting better, he still had his moments of obnoxiousness).

Between the two, Forzen was also better because Gordon had managed to turn him into an almost-tolerable person; hell, he’d say the guy was a few steps away from being normal! He’d honestly much rather have Forzen teaching him how to do this alien shit.

Alas, another difference between the two annoyances in his life was that the one he tolerated more wasn’t an alien.

Although, it did give Gordon an idea…

He felt his way into the living room, Forzen somehow not needing any light to navigate the house and thus not bothering to turn any of the lights on prior to Gordon emerging from his room.

“Forzen.”

“That’s my name!” The man looked over from the center of the couch, the large smile on his face only just visible thanks to the glow of the television; his eye sparkled similarly to how Benrey’s did not that long ago.

“I’ve been consistently getting it right right for months now, you don’t need to get excited every time.”

“But it makes me happy, because sometimes I forget it too.” He relaxed to a more neutral expression.

“You forget your own name??”

“Only sometimes.”

Was this guy even sure that ‘Forzen’ was his real name? Gordon shook his head in bewilderment. That was a can of worms for somebody else to worry about. “Anyways, you and Benrey used to be friends, right?”

“We used to be best friends.”

“Cool. Did he ever tell you anything about Black Mesa?”

Forzen shrugged, “Sometimes. Neither of us liked to talk about it, so we just…didn’t.”

“You-? Hold on!” Gordon flopped into the loveseat, emoting with his hands as he usually did, albeit with more bumps into Sweet Voice. “What do you mean by ‘neither’? That means you-when did YOU visit Black Mesa prior to the Resonance Cascade?”

Forzen growled, “I don’t remember, time is an illusion. I just know it was after they let Benrey out for the first time. Military got access to experimental stuff and they’d test it out on people. They put some of the experimental stuff in my body, started teleporting everywhere, then fell into a restricted area when it stopped. Benrey harassed me until I left. We became friends after that.”

“Oh, so like, the experiments they did-wait, is that why you teleport sometimes?”

“Mm-sure.” He gnawed on his burnt bagel until it audibly crunched, a chunk of the literal charcoal freed from his efforts. He proceeded to ‘munch’ on the piece of bagel while he talked. “The Bill Nyes from your old work call it, uh, ‘harmony fuckers’ or something.”

“Can you not talk and chew at the same time please?”

Forzen obliged with a hum and another of his signature shrugs.

“Thank you.” Gordon sighed and paced around the room. That wasn’t the sort of information he came out to ask about, in fact it gave him more questions about what was going on with Benrey before the Resonance Cascade happened. What did he mean by ‘let Benrey out’? Did they keep the guy in a fucking cage? Were they trying to domesticate him? Acclimate him to being around humans? Why?

‘Focus, Freeman.’

Right, right. Thank you, inner scientist.

“Thank you.”

Forzen made a confused ‘huh’ at him.

Gordon shook his head, “Ignore that, I’m getting distracted. So-!” He shifted himself into a normal sitting position. “Everything you just said sounds VERY interesting, but I actually did have an important question to ask.”

“Mm?”

“Did Benrey, in all the time you’ve known each other, ever talk to you about the Black Mesa Sweet Voice?” He asked.

Forzen looked at him silently, eventually answering with an indifferent “no.”

Gordon swore under his breath, burying his face so deeply into his palms that it left his glasses askew. He’d hoped that maybe Forzen knew a thing or two about the Sweet Voice; having been friends with Benrey for so long, surely a normal guy (or at least normal compared to anybody else that knew Benrey) like Forzen would have been just a little curious about how the Sweet Voice worked.

Forzen had been a bootboy just one lifetime ago, though, and in Gordon’s personal experience they tended to not question or second-guess anything.

“Why do you wanna know about Sweet Voice so badly?”

Correction: Bootboys tended to not question or second-guess anything…unless it was to Gordon’s inconvenience. Forzen wasn’t a bootboy anymore, but the statement still partially stands true.

“Again, long story. How long were you planning to-?”

The doorbell rang, Forzen immediately cut off the TV and ducked out of view from whoever could see him from the main entryway. Gordon sidled over to the door, then stalled. He couldn’t be seen with piss-yellow Sweet Voice pouring from his mouth, he was anxious enough as it was. He rummaged around a nearby drawer and slapped on the first paper mask he was able to find before wearily cracking open the door.

“Hello?” Gordon answered, and then let out a very loud scream. He almost immediately calmed down once he recognized the visitor. “Mitchell! Don’t fucking scare me like that, dude.”

“Hello, Freeman.”

Mitchell was the less-weird of Forzen’s two cousins; both of them were weird, but if Gordon had to label only one of them as ‘the weird one’, it certainly wouldn’t have been Mitchell. He was a handsome-looking guy, despite the odd scars that he had apparently gotten while in Black Mesa, and seemed to be the closest thing to a leader when it came to the shenanigans of Neo Team Nice. Unfortunately, he had a strange aura about him that always scared the hell out of Gordon whenever they crossed paths, and he always, always talked like he had been trapped in a bad Metal Gear game for several years. Mitchell was a mixed bag to say the least, but he was never rude to Gordon, and that’s what really mattered.

“Howdy. How’s it, uh, how’s it going?”

“Fine. I have a question for you.”

“Yeaaaaah?”

Mitchell blinked a few times before answering. It made Gordon wonder if his manner of speaking was intentional. “Can I squat in your house for a couple hours?”

“Whuh-? I-? Pardon??”

The confusion must have been visible on Gordon’s face, because Mitchell immediately took this as his cue to explain everything in the most nothing way possible.

Mitchell smirked cockily. “Adrian and I made a deal that if he couldn’t find all of us before sundown, he would have to wear The Chicken Hat.”

“Can I ask why you have a chicken hat?”

“Collective punishment for us leaving the military. Everybody was supposed to get one, but they only sent a single hat, not that it affects us since the military can't force us to wear them.”

“I see…” Gordon slowly nodded. “That uh, yeah, that makes sense.”

It did not, in fact, make sense.

“I will ask only once more, Freeman. Can I-” Mitchell let out a horribly exaggerated yelp before ragdolling at the foot of the door. A little foam dart rolled onto the grass next to him.

A man dressed in cargo shorts and a white tank top came into view. He was immediately recognizable as Adrian, not because of how absolutely strapped with NERF guns he was, or the the gas mask he was wearing, but because of the tween-sized frog-thing trailing behind him like a puppy.

The two shared a moment of eye-contact before the ‘assassin’ gave a silent thumbs up. He ran out of sight just as quickly as he arrived, and Gordon decided to also make himself scarce upon Mitchell’s body despawning.

He peeled the paper mask off his face, drawing his eyes from the door back to the nearby couch. “It’s safe to come out now, man. Neither of your cousins know you snuck in here.”

“Nice.” He put the TV back on.

Gordon melted into the recliner for a bit to watch with the young man. He couldn’t help but squint while doing so.

“Don’t you think you should watch something other than Irate Gamer?” He asked, “I’m pretty sure you’ve seen this episode at least five different times at my house.”

Forzen let out a huff. “No. I like it, it makes me happy.”

“But that’s not normal. We’ve talked about this, you gotta branch out so you don’t just default to that when talking to new people.”

“If you wanna watch something else, you can just ask.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Gordon sighed, “You’re doing a really good job at fitting in right now, despite your shortcomings. You were almost as bad as Benrey in some of the ways you talked to people, but you’re doing great now! The real world, outside of Neo Team Nice and outside of the Science Team, is like a uh, a giant puzzle, right? Everybody has a place. I have a place, Adrian and Mitchell have a place, and you have a place!”

Forzen let out a grunt to imply he was sorta listening.

Gordon started to go into one of his little talks, ‘The Puzzle Metaphor’ he liked to call this one. Everybody has to fit into the puzzle, no matter what. You might have a few people without needing to fit in, but you need to be able to fit in to get along with everybody!

“Liking Irate Gamer is an innocent hobby, but it’s not gonna be the most acceptable one when you’re trying to meet new people. Not everybody likes it, and they’re not gonna want you around if that’s all you wanna talk about! But, uh, you know that already.”

“…You done now?”

Forzen clearly had enough babying from Gordon today. He got annoyed with Gordon, too, sometimes, even if he clearly meant well.

“Yeah, yeah I’m done now. Ju-just trying to hold out for ya, man. Like I said, a real big improvement from how you were.” He pointed to the kitchen, “I’ll be in there if you need me…”

-

Gordon waited until it was dark out before politely kicking Forzen out of his house, perfectly exposing the poor man to a barrage of darts. While waiting, he had made sandwiches out of the remaining ‘toast’ from breakfast that morning, plus whatever meats and cheeses were closest to running out; Gordon passed them around to the conglomeration of buff guys loitering in his yard, plus Lydia and Seargent Nutter when they were finally tagged out.

“Excellent job, everyone!” Mitchell proudly beamed. “We have successfully conquered my brother in a test of unbridled stealth! We will prepare The Chicken Hat first thing tomorrow morning!”

Gordon cupped his hands to be heard among the discordant cheering. “Cool, great, get out of my yard now!”

“There’s no need to be a sourpuss, Gordon. You’re too young to be getting so uppity about people on your property. Maybe wait another 20 years or so.” Sgt. Nutter gave him a wrinkly grin that really emphasized her age. “How’s Harold doing? Still back in the ring?”

“He’s been back in the ring for a while now, I don’t see why he’d wanna stop.” He gave her an annoyed tone, one she apparently didn’t like.

“It’s only a question, Gordon. I just like checking up on him.”

“Well you both have phones, I don’t see why you can’t call or text instead.”

“And communicate with him directly? Goodness, Gordon, are you trying to stop my poor, purple heart?” She got up close to Gordon, an evil glint in her big, buggy eyes. “By the way, this is your reminder that the only reason your ‘Science Team’ is alive right now is because I went AWOL. If I was manning the radio array when the orders went out…”

Nutter made a slow and quiet ‘pew’ sound.

“…So don’t forget that. You can get uppity with me all you want, but don’t you dare keep that up with them.” She pointed to Forzen and his cousins. Right, fuck, all three of them were younger than Gordon by at least five years. “I’ve held a grudge with Harold for a decade now, don’t think I won’t hold one threefold against you.”

“U-understood, ma’am. Uh, sir? Uh…Sergeant! Right away! Mrs. Sgt. Coomer-Nutter! Ma’am.”

The woman giggled heartily, as if she wasn’t threatening a (probably) violent grudge against him just now. “Oh, Gordon. You silly thing. Just Sgt. Nutter is fine, or just Nutter. I only use ‘Coomer’ in legal documents and on the field.”

“I’m pretty sure one of those two things is illegal.”

“Hasn’t stopped me yet!” She grabbed another sandwich from the tray Gordon was carrying around, a corned beef in lightly-toasted pumpernickel. “Goodbye, Gordon!”

A horrible, limousine-sized monstrosity known as the Jumble Jeep pulled in, a good enough sign if any that Neo Team Nice was leaving now. The team all gave their goodbyes for the night.

A few notable ones stuck out to Gordon.

“See you, Gourd-Man.” From Forzen.

Eddy, who Gordon immediately picked out from his glasses, ran by, wishing for him to “Keep up the good health.” Gordon rightfully interpreted this as a threat since he was the one licensed medic of the group. You should never piss off the healer.

“Catch ya later, Freeman!” Was barely audible from…either Adrian or Mitchell? They both sounded alike, he couldn’t tell unless he focused on the inflection. It sounded too optimistic to be Mitchell, so it was probably the oddly tender-hearted Adrian.

“Goodbye, Human Gordon!” Was loudly uttered by a guy named Anthony. “Human Anthony, who is a human, is saying goodbye to you now!”

Anthony was most certainly not a human. Gordon didn’t know what he was, because the rest of the Team was intent on keeping it a secret, but he wasn’t hurting anybody.

“You don’t have to say that every time you leave, Anthony.” Gordon waved at him, paused, then motioned him over. “Actually, hey! Anthony! Before you leave, I have a question for you!”

“Human Gordon has a question for Human Anthony?” He ran over and stopped a perfect five feet away from him. His orange-yellow eyes focused directly on Gordon’s face, and his arms waved a bit in front of him before he snapped them behind his back, military style. “What is your question?”

“So from one not-alien that has been to Black Mesa to another, have you ever heard of something called the Black Mesa Sweet Voice?”

Please say yes, please say yes! He needed somebody, anybody that could help him turn the fucking bubbles off. He didn’t want to bother Coomer after saying he wasn’t calling anybody tonight, and he couldn’t wait until Benrey got back in the morning, assuming that’s when he was planning to come back. He needed to speak and breathe without those terrible little orbs popping up in his peripherals. He dearly missed the chromesthesia; it was a little intrusive when he became too focused on one emotion, but it didn’t make his every thought into a public service announcement.

“Yes! I HAVE heard of this Sweetened Vocalization!”

“That’s great!” Gordon didn’t even hide the elation in his voice. ‘Pistachio, let’s go!’

“So you’ve used it before?”

“No!”

“Shit.” Gordon hissed. ‘Mahogany, fuck me.’

“But!” Anthony smiled. “Human Johnson has!”

“No I haven’t!” Johnson distantly rebuttaled. “You’re thinking of Jackson!”

“Oh yes! I apologize for the confusion! Both of you look alike!” Anthony clapped his hands over Gordon’s shoulders. It felt like he had been slapped with a live lobster. “Human Jackson is the ‘Jack of all trades’. He has many experiences with many things, he will help you! I will bring him to you!”

“Thank-”

“JACKSON!!!!!”

“Aaugh!” Gordon let out a weak scream. “Jeez, you’re so loud!”

“Thank you! It is because of my human lungs! Look, here comes Jackson!”

“Thank you, I can see that! I’ll meet him halfway.”

Gordon pried himself out of Anthony’s hold and slinked from one broad-shouldered man to another. Jackson and Johnson were easy to spot because they both had a cigar of some sort in their mouth, but Jackson’s was seemingly always lit, if how much smoke it actually produced was anything to go by. They did look a little too much alike, in Anthony’s defense.

“Hi, howdy, good evening.”

“Freeman!” Jackson laughed, “What’cha doing asking about that Sweet Voice?” Smoke puffed out with every hard consonant, fading almost immediately when it did.

“That’s a long story.” Gordon repeated his current go-to explanation. “You know how to use it though, right? The Sweet Voice?”

Jackson tugged the cigar from his mouth and cleanly sung four notes, two low notes followed by a high and medium note, in a voice that very distinctly sounded like Hatsune Miku. Instead of bubbles, the Voice took the form of pastel-colored smoke.

“That is wonderful, incredible even.”

“Glad you think so.” He put the cigar back in his mouth. “I know you ain’t asking around just to look at pretty colors, though.”

Sighing, Gordon removed a mask he had thrown on before kicking Forzen out. “So I, uh, kinda got stuck with it. I was hoping you might know how to turn it off?”

“Turn it off?” Jackson repeated. He took the cigar out again. “Fuck if I know. I’ve been stuck with it for years, now!”

“What?”

He held the cigar out to Gordon. “This thing ain’t even real. I just carry it so nobody finds out I blow balls from my mouth.”

“In PUBLIC?” A guy immediately responded, like a knee-jerk reaction.

“Yes Mike, in public, shaddup.” He sneered. The smoke wavered into an almost-bubbly shape when it went from white to more vibrant colors. ‘Orange to cyan. You’re pissing me off, man!’

“So you can’t turn it off?” Gordon asked.

“I don’t know, they just gave me the surgery and asked if it worked. Adam got the same surgery and he only made bubbles one time before it stopped working for him. I’ve learned that keeping my mind empty and suppressing my emotions keeps it a white and smoky-looking, so I just ‘picked up’ smoking to mask the problem.”

“That’s probably not healthy.”

“It’s not, but I don’t know how else to fix the problem. I’d marry the first guy that could perform that miracle, though.”

A deep, familiar voice butted in from behind. “Sound like a you problem, man.”

Gordon quickly turned around, meeting Benrey’s face by mere inches. Jackson screamed in Hatsune Miku.

“What’s up? Sharing notes with the class? S’all cool. It’s your first day, gotta catch up to the curriculum.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Gordon asked. He chose to ignore the baker’s dozen of scared and confused mumblings from the former-bootboys nearby.

“Doesn’t matter. So you wanna do Sweet Voice?”

With a tired exhale, Gordon let out a long and defeated “Yessss.”

“Okay, okay children. Class is-class is in session. I’m gonna teach you how to sing so good man.”

“I don’t wanna know how to sing! I wanna turn it off!”

“Oh that’s easy.” Benrey smiled.

He quickly shoo’d off Neo Team Nice, minus Jackson and Adam, promising to bring them back safely before promptly no-clipping them into Gordon’s house.

To Gordon’s (not) surprise, the group took Benrey’s words at face value and left. Gordon hoped he wasn’t expected to drive the men home, but he didn’t trust the other man with transporting them so…he might as well.

“You coming?” Benrey shouted.

Gordon turned to see a head and upper torso clipping through a wall. He didn’t feel like commenting, just nodding and heading back inside was enough to ease whatever worries Benrey had for him.

-

Gordon, Benrey, Jackson and Adam sat in a circle near the center of the living room floor. Chairs were apparently out of the question for the lesson, and nobody was willing to challenge ‘Professor’ Benrey about it.

“Your Sweet Voice is mapped to the first noise you made when you got it. Talking or yelling or whatever will map it to your normal voice, you gotta go into your settings and key-bind it to something else.” Benrey explained.

Jackson sheepishly raised his hand. “Can you explain that in non-gamer terms?”

“No.”

Gordon gave Benrey a Look.

“I’m joking, man. Lighten up.” He made a weird rattling noise before continuing. “Go into the filing cabinet in your brain. Go to your brain cabinet.”

Jackson and Adam both nodded.

“You too, Feetman.”

Gordon let out an aggravated “fine.” Admittedly, he had an easier time imagining the video game menu, so he stuck with that.

To put it simply, the Sweet Voice (SV) worked by pairing up vibrations in the voice box; if you matched the SV with humming, for example, it would only appear when you hummed. You could also completely change the sound output of the SV, which was apparently how Jackson managed to get his Miku voice.

Having access to the SV automatically gave one the ability to do what Benrey called a ‘throat whistle’ (which he humorously shortened to thistle). It was like laryngeal stridor, a condition that caused somebody to ‘whistle’ while breathing, except this was entirely on command and not connected to any health issue that Gordon could think of. Jackson had seemingly figured out how to thistle on his own and matched it while thinking about a certain digital idol, and from there you could probably guess what happened.

Gordon wasn’t sure how Benrey and Jackson had managed to help him actually perform a thistle, it all sounded like nonsense when Benrey explained and Jackson just kept telling him to ‘not overthink it’, but he did eventually get the hang of thistling. It was oddly fun on its own.

Adam had apparently thistled by accident when he got the SV and didn’t know how to replicate the sound, which was why it hadn’t worked for him for so long. He seemed quite elated with having a new set of noises to bother his boyfriend with.

It was a very effective lesson overall.

Unfortunately, this was also how he learned that you could have a maximum of two voices paired on you at any time, which was both a blessing and a curse as demonstrated when Benrey opened his mouth and released a horrifying harmony of his usual ‘singing’ voice and a high-pitched beep.

Gordon was grateful when he stopped.

“Pretty cool, right?”

“NEVER do that again!” He demanded, spewing a LOT of dark blue at Benrey. Neither of them needed a reminder for that translation.

“Ouch, man.” Benrey frowned.

He frowned. “And I mean it, too.”

Jackson,now that he was more acquainted with the non-human, seemed more humored by the display than anything. “I can finally go to the non-smoking sections of buildings without looking like a jackass! This is the best day of my life!” He looked at Benrey. “Fucking marry me, dude!”

“Not interested.”

“Perfectly understandable!” He returned to slouching, and looked over at Adam, who had figured out how to alternate between a car horn rendition of ‘la cucaracha’ and a slide whistle. Jackson started responding with his Hatsune Miku voice and what sounded like the rough imitation of an electric guitar.

Benrey gave Gordon an intense look. “Now you.”

Jackson and Adam stopped what they were doing to watch.

Gordon’s heart started to thump in his head at the attention, he could barely hear himself think. His hands balled up in front of him and pulled strands of carpet into their grip.

‘Pink lemonade. I’m nervous, not afraid!’

It felt like being stuck at an interview. He hated interviews. He was always being judged.

A pair of hands placed themselves over one of his own, the left hand.

“Hey man,” Benrey spoke in a slightly hushed tone. “Don’t take the class thing too serious? S’just a silly joke. Just a goof. Like the passports. I’m not testing you or anything.”

He looked into the other’s eyes, shiny cyan scleras with irises so deep and dark that they blended into the pupil. He must have learned that from Dr. Coomer, because he did the same thing when Gordon needed help calming down. He wasn’t sure when they would have told him, but that probably didn’t matter right now.

His heartbeat settled some.

‘Breathe, Freeman.’

The reminders from his inner scientist came to him clearly now.

‘Square breaths. Inhale four, hold four, exhale four, hold four, repeat.’

In four.

Hold four.

Out four.

Hold hour.

In. Hold. Out. Hold.

Again.

And again.

And once more.

‘Focus.’

Focus.

Settings Menu, Sweet Voice, he could see it now.

Input 1: Default

Re-binding Input 1…

Input 1: Thistle

Inhale, exhale.

No Sweet Voice, not even a single bubble!

Benrey looked at him expectantly.

Was he waiting for Gordon to serenade him with the song of his people? Jackson and Adam were waiting as well.

He was tempted. He shouldn’t have been.

‘What are YOU waiting for?’ Asked an irrational thought. ‘This is something you’ve always wanted to do, isn’t it?’

Maybe for a moment, but that was when the Player was in control. It had been a fleeting desire that scuttled off after that game of Spin the Bottle, nothing more.

…

And yet?

Output 1: Default

Re-binding Output 1…

Gordon took in a slow breathe. He felt the slight constriction in his throat as he sung out the unearthly tone of a synthesizer he’d once heard humming away in a plant nursery. It was in that eerie pitch that lingered only for alien abductions in movies or shows.

That’s what Gordon felt now.

That’s what Gordon was now.

He let the pitch fluctuate, and held it in spots where it sounded nice until he ran out of air. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing breathe back into his lungs to hold back tears.

It was beautiful, and terrifying, and dreadful, and wonderful, and every other appropriate descriptor that his shitty, shitty memory failed to conjure.

One of Benrey’s hands moved off of Gordon’s, he felt something wipe a dampness out of his eyes, slightly dislodging his glasses. Gordon had a pretty good idea of who the culprit was; his eyes confirmed his suspicions once he willed them open.

Benrey pulled his hand away from Gordon’s face, clasping it over his mouth. If there was Sweet Voice, it was well hidden. Usually he would try to calm down Gordon with some blue but…maybe he was trying to avoid that.

“Uh,” The man mumbled behind his covered mouth, “final lesson for tonight. Binding the Sweet Voice doesn’t mean it’ll only show up when you want it. Big emotions will make it all just kinda-pfffffft. Ya know?”

“Why are you telling me-?” Gordon didn’t finish, he immediately noticed how his shaky breath let out tiny yellow bubbles. ‘Lemonade means I’m afraid.’

“Hey-” Jackson frowned, “I don’t really know what’s going on but…you seem scared right now, and it’s okay if you are. You just…can’t let it consume you, okay? Your beautiful friend seems to know what he’s doing, I think you can rely on him for whatever is going on.”

Gordon nodded without comment.

“You go sleep now.” Benrey got up.

“I can’t do that, I have to-”

“Sleep now, please?” His face was blank.

Gordon struggled to convey his concerns. He knew that arguing with Benrey wouldn’t make him any less stubborn, but Gordon had to take Jackson and Adam home. He had a car, he knew the area, he knew where they lived.

Benrey didn’t know that stuff, if he did he would maybe feel better about letting him take them home?

Gordon thistled out a shaky tone. Where words failed him, a blossom of technicolored orbs seemed to convey everything he felt.

It all must’ve been more complex than how he currently understood it; he wasn’t sure how ‘yellow like curry means I’m worried’ and ‘robin eggs with wine, I NEED to know it’s fine’ were able to combine with a few other colors Gordon didn’t notice in order to explain his concerns…but for Benrey it was more than enough.

Benrey looked at the other two men in the room. “Go wait outside, please.”

They both nodded and bid Gordon ‘goodnight.’

With the living room empty, he crouched back down to Gordon’s level and let out a sigh. “Words are hard.”

Gordon laughed. “Yeah. Th-they are.”

“But you understand words better right now, I think.”

“…Yeah. I do. My brain is translating the rhymes alright, though.”

“It’ll make sense, eventually.” Benrey said, “You won’t even need the rhymes…You’re doing good, even if Sweet Voice doesn’t make sense yet.”

Gordon waited for more, but received nothing else. Benrey looked like he was waiting, too, but for what…Gordon didn’t know.

Benrey let out another sigh and sang a string of blue between them both.

Gordon tentatively reached out to an orb, it popped at his touch and filled Gordon with a familiar calming sensation. It was much more appreciated than he had realized, and so he felt compelled to pop two more bubbles to let the calm completely overtake him.

“Thanks.” He mumbled.

A tiny smile showed up on Benrey’s face as he sat back up and reached over to help Gordon do the same.

The room had become completely dark without Gordon even realizing it. He had never turned the lights back on, having just used the perpetual stream of Sweet Voice to light his way. Now the only light left was the slowly-fading bubbles of calming blue, and even those were soon gone.

Gordon’s eyesight slowly adjusted, as was typical of the human eye.

Benrey coughed a bit, getting his attention. Gordon’s eyes had adjusted enough to barely notice the man’s hunched over posture, which almost immediately straightened upon Gordon looking his way.

“I can handle things.” Benrey told him. “You’ve had a long day, you need rest. I know how to find uh, Forzen. The bootboys all live together, that’s what Bubby said. I can-” He smacked his lips a couple times, sighed again, then let silence overcome the room for a minute. “…yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Gordon let out a tired laugh. The irrational thoughts whispered to him sweet assurances that it would be fine.

Gordon allowed them to win.

“Okay, I’ll trust you.” He took out his phone and unlocked it. “Give me your number, if anything goes wrong-”

“Nothing will go wrong.” Benrey insisted.

He looked at the man with doubt. “If anything goes wrong, doesn’t have to be tonight, it could be tomorrow, or next week, or whatever…if anything goes wrong, if anything IS wrong, call me. Not text, call. If I can’t do anything to help, I can at least contact the rest of the Science Team for you.”

Benrey looked at the ground before telling Gordon his number. He flew off before Gordon’s confirmation text could send, but the irrational thoughts convinced him to let it go for now.

Gordon went about his usual routine, this time in darkness; he was actually proud of himself for being able to handle it for this long, as silly as it likely would have sounded to an outsider.

About five minutes after Benrey had left, his phone buzzed.

‘bootboys delibirded pls be sleep when i hime’

He couldn’t help but snort at the text. At least Jackson and Adam were home now.

It was only 10 o’clock at night, but Benrey was right: Gordon had a long day today, what with the doctor’s appointment and the alien puberty and the game of Assassins happening outside his house and his first ever lesson regarding the aforementioned alien puberty, he definitely deserved a long rest.

Gordon’s eyes drooped shut the moment his head hit the pillow, but his mind did not ease itself into sleep until he was able to hear a mumbling in his attic that unmistakably belonged to his new roommate. The barely-hushed hoots and hollers of a man deep into an online match was oddly soothing as Gordon slipped into unconsciousness.

[south-sea]

Ooh, how about "X" for your black arms crew?

i'm including Neutral End in this too yahooo (from this!)

X. What's their biggest fear?

aruna he's been through so much these past 13+ years that he's swung pretty hard into "desensitized" territory. to most, he would seem eerily unfazed and always collected. the exception might be disorientation in relation to waking from particularly nasty nightmares, but those rarely happen, and tend to happen only under specific circumstances, so i'm not counting it.

it's less that he's afraid of traditional tangible things at this point, and more about concepts. the thought of forgetting fills him with so much dread it's hard for him to process. when he starts to get into it, there comes a point where he has to force himself to stop thinking about it or he'll drive himself mad trying to recall what's no longer there, or the sinking feeling that there's something he's already missing.

nearly his entire self-proclaimed purpose in life now, other than to live for himself, is to remember. memories are all he has left to keep his people alive. so for him to forget even the smallest detail is to essentially be a failure who's lost his purpose for living in place of... literally everyone else. the survivor's guilt is real, and it is heavy. it doesn't manifest with sadness. it's simply this.

he likes to think he remembers everything perfectly. time and trauma have seen to it that he does not. he claims his people didn't have songs. he's forgotten black moth knew and sang the last of their kind.

black moth it's a little odd for a "moth", maybe, but bright lights instill an almost primal sense of dread in him. he can't pinpoint any rhyme or reason for it. in most other situations, he'd have the "fight" reaction when adrenaline kicks in, but when it comes to this, he just freezes.

and by bright lights i don't mean just any. it's not as if he's going to freak out if you turn on overhead fluorescent lights or something, even if he's not a fan of those in general. it's if he's already in a dark room and you shine a single beam on him from overhead, or things like extremely bright, large spotlights in the distance.

he assumes it's fear, anyway. maybe it would be more accurate to say it's awe. the last traces of some long-buried memory.

black moth remembers the songs. black doom remembers the illuminated rings their planet had. they've both forgotten pieces of their history they once held dear, and all that's left in those empty places is dread. but maybe it's better to fear this empty unknown than to mourn it.

alt doom defeat or mistakes he can't come back from. he has been beaten and pushed into a corner countless times, but he always comes out on top in some way, or knows when to employ a strategic retreat. this guy is ruthless and thorough in a much more strategic way, or at least the little mishap with gerald taught him to be.

if he knew what aruna had been through to end up with his entire species eradicated, he'd be a) dumbfounded by aruna's "stupidity", and b) horrified by the outcome. alt doom cannot fathom a reason or a route where he himself would get desperate enough for it to end like that. the possibility of losing that badly, and that much, is almost beyond his ability to comprehend.

he's lucky that arrogance hasn't been his undoing. if he were still in existential peril these days, maybe it would be.

neutral end doom he's kind of just aruna give or take some steps, and that's intentional, but by the end he's different enough to have a place on this list. especially since his fear is different: time. he's genuinely just afraid of running out of time, despite staring that fact in the face constantly. past a certain point in his hive, his kind dying and fizzling out is just a known inevitability.

he knows that, and yet he refuses to let it consume him. so he claims. that broken hourglass hangs heavy from his chains.

neutral end shadow honorary black arms. the running trend here is loss. he is keenly aware now-his-kind are going to die. he's seen countless black arms be cut down or wither away. he doesn't want to lose anyone else, least of all black doom or black moth.

it's inevitable, he knows. he's seen the hourglass too. but he'll be thankful for the time they have left until there's no one left to be thankful for.

[milimeters-morales]

So Peter’s approach to Miles’s destruction is to give tips on how to destroy them without accidentally getting unwanted people involved in the process, like how to actually hunt in the way Peter sometimes hunts and not lose himself entirely. He sees how overly excited and frantic Miles gets when he’s tearing into a Prototype, so he teaches him how to be in control with different strategies like isolating the robot or tricking it in some way, how the environment he’s in can affect his chances of actually destroying it, when to realize it’s not worth it (one of the most difficult lessons) and just give up on that hunt, stuff like that. Peter is genuinely helping using his own experience hunting down humans and and small animals, and it makes Miles sick but the advice does help so he appreciates it in a strange way, and is starting to sort of become desensitized to Peter’s actions towards others in a way and further attached to him. ruh roh raggy

(Aaron and Matt under the cut)

Aaron actually doesn’t disagree with Miles destroying Prototypes, he’s just worried that the robots will be made more advanced by Alchemax based off of the ways Miles defeats them, which will only make them harder for Miles to fight and increase the risk entirely, so instead he tries to steer Miles towards his old hobbies! Miles used to draw a TON, and for several reasons he stopped, and it always calmed him down and was a way to communicate, make friends, be more involved in his community, and just have fun. He also loved helping animals whenever he could, but he also stopped for several reasons, so Aaron tries to get him to do both of these things again, which he hopes will get Miles interested in new hobbies and topics as well. It’s hard since he isn’t always around to see if Miles is actually sticking with the hobbies and enjoying them, but he trusts Miles to be honest about that. They have a good relationship, but it’s just a bit complicated since Miles has gotten so used to Aaron not being around as often despite being his guardian that it’s hard to just act like Aaron has always and will always be there even if he accepts it. He’s sort of got this “why do all this work if my uncle’s not even gonna be around to see it, what does any of this matter when i have a working system already??” mentality that he’s not telling anyone about :/ Aaron has had a few thoughts when it gets very tough, about just letting Miles join him in doing Prowler work so they spend time together, Aaron can keep an eye on him, and he gets his energy out the way he’s used to, but mans quickly shuts that down .

Matt discourages him fighting the Prototypes entirely for more or less the same reason Aaron doesn’t like Miles fighting them. It gives Alchemax countless opportunities to improve and make them stronger against people fighting back with the amount of times Miles faces them, but he also sees this as first and foremost unnecessary endangerment of a child when said child has several adults perfectly capable of helping him out (and i mean. yeah.), & as a gateway to destroying whatever or eventually whoever he feels like because Matt doesn’t fully agree with Peter’s version of teaching Miles control. He likes and supports that Peter’s helping Miles not freak out while he’s… like that, but he thinks Peter focuses way too much on the “we’re in this emotion now, here’s how to minimize casualties and have the most fun!” aspect rather than the “we can avoid getting to this point entirely” one. He thinks Peter is being immature and not thinking far ahead enough, which is a dynamic im glad i can keep in this world btw! He tries to give Miles other actual (healthy) coping mechanisms and tips so upsetting stuff is a bit easier to handle, and he won’t just be a walking ball of frustration and other negative feelings until he can beat the shit out of something, and will frequently tell him that fighting isn’t always the answer. Miles typically ignores him about that, because he sees Matt as a giant hypocrite just like Peter rather than someone who is trying to help him not turn out so violent and angry, but somewhere deep down he wants to agree with Matt since it’s the same thing his mom or dad would probably say and he looks up to them.

(also, about Matt finding Peter immature and short-sighted, i think it’s also a bit sad because Peter doesn’t remember anything about his old life and doesn’t really act the way he used to, but still manages to frustrate Matt in the same way he always did anytime they had to work together, and Matt, in his most desperate moments, would do anything to have those moments back. lol. lmao even)

[nani-nonny]

Reading the beginning of chapter " family " and i get surprised why isn't F!Mikey awake, was there disconnection in the internet?!😂

When Mikey said " not yet " i was wondering 'Not yet?' As if he's gonna feel pain soon? Or something may happen soon? (Until my thought remembered that F!Leo may have to do something soon)

I remembered the clip you posted before saying that F!Mikey cursed at Drax for begin impatient, i wonder if it was him wanting for F!leo to gain his connection back fast and that's why f!Mikey said " impatient "

When F!mikey put his hands on leo's chest and start pulling something, i wonder if it was him making space for himself and his brothers?🤔

" Michelangelo is nothing more than a torso with legs and a single arm " i never knew 'Slice of life' involved horror, god damn it i was scared imagining that.

With each time F!Leo's begging i can't help but almost CRY, my poor babygirl!!

" a purple hand reaches out of the mound like the dead reviving. " AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! IT'S HIM!! THE DAMN TWIN IS BACK WHERE WERE YOU DONNIE?!?!?!

Wait from the describing; F!Donnie lost both legs and left forearm?! Bet they were replaced by Robot limbs. When i heard his voice i thought " did he replaced his throat with coards? "

God DAMN you described my child raph as a leftover eaten sandwich WHAT HAPPENED?!?! AND YOU TOO HIS EYES TOO?!? WHAT'S NEXT HIS SHELL?

When leo woke up and saw his family with their limbs fully on FINALLY MY CHILD DOESN'T LOOK LIKE AN EATEN SANDWICH!!

Raph describing Leo as crybaby and i couldn't agree more, but let's be honest he deserves to cry, decades of fighting deserves to cry.

WAIT DRAXAM NEVER SAID IT WON'T BE PAINFUL?! I THOUGHT MIKEY DID IT. Also goddamn F!Mikey's acting like he's on he's giving birth CHILL

Donnie says leo's in hell and am over here thinking how i can end a ghost's life

‘Mystic School for Dummies’. GOD DAMN DONNIE XDD THIS'S A BURN FOR BRAINY

" Donatello only gestures faster. Leonardo does the same " AHAHAHA

" It was the most badass moment we’ve had together in years ,” YES IT WAS THE MOST BAD ASS MOMENT IN WDS ITSELF AND YOU CAN NOT CHANGE MY MIND

“That and it’s really funny seeing you try to be a dad.” yep HERE IT IS!

Hearing f!Donnie's voice in leo's head got me giggly and excited!!!

F!Mikey isn’t awake in the beginning because his ninpo is a little banged up, and you can see it getting worse as the chapter goes on, hence the disintegrating hehe

The “not yet” was F!Mikey telling Draxum because he knows that the old goat is trying to rush the properties of the mystic herb. :) Mikey was not at all happy about Draxum trying to rush things hahaha! So yes, that ties with him cursing Draxum out lol

F!Mikey’s hand is quite literally keeping F!Leo’s mystic core intact. A lot of bad would have happened if Mikey wasn’t holding Leo together. Although, when Mikey stumbled he kind of brought Leo down with him for the short fall lol

“I never knew ‘slice of life’ involved horror” -In my defense! I said we’re getting there, we’re just not there yet hehe was it too spooky? I’m a little desensitized to these things oop

F!Donnie pulled a mushu from mulan “I LIIIIVEEEEE” but in that case, Donnie lost his voice and some limbs from the same disintegrating that is hurting F!Mikey. Although, the one he permanently lost is his left arm. He has the matching pair for F!Leo’s right arm hahaha!

Not the leftover eaten sandwich nooooo!!! Not Raphy hahahah! And to be exact, the turtles have most of their limbs back haha. Raph, Donnie and Mikey still have their missing pieces, well, missing. (Raph’s right leg below the knee, Donnie’s left arm, and a chunk of Mikey’s shell on the upper right carapace)

Draxum never warned Leo about the process if integrating the mystic herb, all he said was that he was going to do his part on his end. He’s a little shit for that lol /aff

I had a lot of fun writing out the family sillies <3333 some of them were inspired by moments with my own siblings hehe

I’m literally so happy it looks like you enjoyed the chapter :) this feedback means a lot to me :D

[residentdormouse]

I Need Thirty-Six Vicodin and Five Segments with Chosen Words

I was having trouble coming up with an intro, so I went to the trail to think. Walking does after all give the illusion of the story moving forward. This shouldn’t have been hard. Sure House is infinitely more cranky, but still of the same ilk as Glen. Intelligent. Logical. And with an overwhelming amount of cynicism. Humanity is overrated and religion is the placebo of the masses. Put Glen’s mocking “You’re here for the same reason as the rest of us, Larry. Because the magic lady says it’s God’s will.” next to House’s “You talk to God, you’re religious; God talks to you, you’re psychotic.” and, well, just give me the Pam meme right now.

(Hell, the both of them even have questionable pain management.)

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just formulating comparisons based on the parallels I want to hear. I guess that’s fair. Or maybe not. If I wanted fair, I chose the wrong species. Regardless, I suppose I should cut this off before I start to drive through a tunnel in a canyon on an airplane while putting away my phone because the parasites that I have, in fact, grown to love require something. There is no ‘I’ in team. There is a ‘me’ though if you jumble it up, and that’s who’s got to round up snacks.

My Words: Motorbike, Limp, Scar, House, Duck

Your Words: Book, Spell, Three, Witch, Magic

(volley to you, @mrsmungus)

Motorbike:

(No ‘motorbikes’, but I got plain ‘bikes’ and ‘motorcycles’.)

The bike definitely sped up the journey. He only took breaks when needed, stocked up when it was dire, and pushed himself more than he probably should. But he was making damn good time.

'Fuck…'

As he came up to the gap in the road, he cut the engine. Once the bike was secure, Harold hopped off to inspect the damage. He could take a detour, but that would set him back quite a while. And who knew how much time he really had.

But was it any longer than trekking the rest by foot? That's what she had done.

He didn't get much further in thought when he heard a voice. His voice. The last member of the group he'd want to run into first.

Stuart fucking Redman.

Limp:

"You really have to find the fun in life, Professor."

"Can't really say this is the type of fun I'm looking for."

A retort was in the works, but a new voice caused the both of them to pause any further dialog.

"Well then, I'd look into moving your ass!"

Before they could even fully turn, a crash echoed out behind them. Smashing into the nearby wall, one of the odd creatures fell limp on the floor. He had barely processed the change in their situation before Max had moved onto the next threat.

"Ain't the fucking movies guys!! Grab the popcorn and go!"

Scar:

“I never did get to show him.”

She wasn’t sure if Nick had caught the comment or not. Didn’t matter, it wasn’t said for him; the admission was something she needed to say for herself. To realize and come to terms with it by vocalization. One moment on a growing list of many things that would never happen in this life.

The concept of loss wasn’t new to her. Being around as long as she had, it was unavoidable. After a while, the ratio of emotional scar tissue to unadulterated hope turned for the worse, and she found herself becoming desensitized to most things in life. Or at least she though. There would always be things like this that happened, things that would remind her of the pain of being alive. Something to cut deep beyond the surface to hit nerves that somehow hadn’t died off centuries ago.

A few moments passed as she sat next to her sadness. Alongside a memory that would now only live in her imagination.

House:

Glen sat back and waited for the next response. Seconds turned to minutes. While he wanted to give her the chance to investigate and report back, the prolonged silence was now at a concerning level. Concerning pushing thoroughly alarming. "Hayden, tell me what's happening."

"There's light behind the bookshelf. The whole thing can move, but not with the book in place. If I can just knock it out, maybe…"

The static from the stereo was quiet, but in the otherwise silent house, it was recognized immediately. Glen turned quickly to the device, and felt his breath catch.

"Hayden, don't try t---"

Static jumped to a full blast, and Hayden cried out in pain. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair, and he was sure her nails dug the whole way through the fabric. Obscenities flew from his mouth as he scrambled over to her, one of his hands taking hers.

"Hayden, you have to wake up now!"

He gave her hand a squeeze, but she only cried out once more. Multiple cracks rang out over the static as the ceiling fan light bulbs burst like popcorn, glass shards raining down like confetti. Instinctively, Glen covered his head and then shook the shards off onto the floor. The blaring static was deafening, and the burst of the end table light bulbs were completely drowned out, as were the blown lights over the dining room table. Glen turned back to Hayden, and watched as a trickle of blood began to run down from her nose.

Duck:

As they both moved past the bar, she realized the walkway was more packed than she realized. Weaving through the group was not difficult for her, but Harold seemed to have a extra helping of awkward holding him back.

Where her movements were fluid, Harold’s had a stiffness to them. Sure, they were a similar breed, but where she moved with the elegance of predator, stealthily slinking from spot to spot, sly movements until she was ready to strike, Harold acted as a cornered animal pushed against a wall, fur standing on end ready to lash out at the nearest hand.

The further they got from the crowd, the more obvious their tailing became. Diving into a nook by the stand up freezer, ducking into a closet. It was all good until they reached the stairs to the basement.

A slow progression was made down to the bottom; she didn’t know how many times she had seen cover blown over a squeaky step. Creaking floorboards. Rookie moves.

But so was shouting out exclamations.

“Fuck me, Quinn! You’re sticking your dick in the goddamn queen bitch of the undead!”

[cinnaminsvga]

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady. 

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool. 

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine. 

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning. 

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!” 

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him. 

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not. 

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets. 

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly. 

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched. 

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured. 

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples. 

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great. 

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet. 

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first. 

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak! 

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke. 

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly. 

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease. 

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time. 

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. 

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before. 

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

[rare-yanderes]

(F/H) =favorite hobby.

I have the weirdest crush on this freaking duck and I don’t know why, so I’m taking out my confusion on this matter by making him yandere. Sorry that this is so long, boring and slow but I’m a sucker for slow burns and just dislike instant love. This went from just from headcannons to a freaking long ass story. I think I’ll make more on how the reader reacts when they find out just how mentally fucked Scrooge became.

Who knows, maybe I’ll write one for good ol’ Flinty. I have a feeling he’d just drop kick any rival he spots without much qualms about it. Meanwhile, Scrooge has a full on psychological derailment.

TW: manipulation, dependent behavior, stalking, and more.

______________

•To be honest, the likelyhood of Scrooge turning into a yandere might be higher than you think. He’s capable of self defense and can fight. He literally hunts treasure for a living. He also has a trillion dollar stockpile sitting around begging to be used for cover ups. His determination is pretty crazy, and he’s seen a lot on his adventures, things that would kind of instill a paranoia over time or an unhealthy me mentality. He can easily hide behind a professional front. Oh, and if he so wanted, he could travel and bury any evidence under a volcano. :)

•Since this is a yandere AU or, I’m gonna go with the idea that this is a what if the show had a TV-14 rating as well, so much darker themes can link and be explored.

•After pretty much a century of adventure, most of which includes violence and fighting through perils, human or not so, Scrooge is desensitized to quite a bit of violence and the dark and greedy side of the world. He’s seen the best of people and also the worst. This plays majorly in anyone who becomes a yandere; how exposed they are to people’s bad side or their own dark tendencies.

•Scrooge himself is not perfect and has demonstrated some traits of greediness, paranoia, and general distrustful behavior which is perfectly reasonable considering his work and the things he exposes himself too during it.

•Even though he loves adventure, there are a lot of bad things that happen on them that he seems to bottle up or keep to himself. Bottling up things causes a negative buildup in anyone, especially Scrooge because he expects that loving his life’s work will repair the same damage it sometimes does to him.

•Most likely, Scrooge developed an affinity with you through your similar drive for adventure. Maybe you worked for him in some way and he saw you defend someone or maybe you outsmarted one of his adversaries on an adventure he decided to bring you on. Regardless, you’ve caught his attention and this is only the beginning.

•A rival love interest’s biggest mistake is mistaking his age for a weakness. One minute he’s complaining about someone being on his lawn, the other they’re buried under it.

•Scrooge would probably connect most if he’s seen that you used to be in his shoes before, or at least a similar situation. Maybe you’re struggling financially but working your ass off to stabilize your income. As someone with the humble origins of a shoeshiner, Scrooge understands perfectly. Despite his incredible stockpile of wealth, he knows what’s it’s like to be at rock bottom.

•At first, you’re probably obviously very suprised with Scrooge’s involvement in your life. He’s from an entirely different world than yours after all, the top of the pyramid. Depending on your origins, you might react quite differently. Currently, you managed to find yourself stuck in a job you hated, working for someone you despised. It was a miserable, repetitive job that brought to your life a void of boredom.

•You craved adrenaline, even if it would get you killed, you finally figured that at least you’d go out with a spark. Putting on a smiling face, you accept a position at McDuck industries thinking that it was going to be another office job. By your luck, (or, later on, unfortunate luck), you managed to score a position that required you to be near Scrooge quite often.

•This gave both of you time to acquaint with eachother and the opportunity for him to see the potential in you as an adventurer instead of just an employee. Scrooge rarely lets people in beyond family, and is quite reserved so he himself questions what he sees in you at first, distrusting you even.

•When you are taken on your first adventure, you nearly boil over with eagerness. There’s a worry at first of the treachery involved but eventually, as you venture on more and more explorations, that fear dulls and you think the adrenaline as far more important than the possible loss of your life.

•Craving adrenaline is the main reason at first as to why you to want to stay around Scrooge. Despite his repeated attempts to brush or push you away, you find yourself excited every time you get to explore and finally get to see a world that you thought you’d never visit.

•Still, Scrooge remains cold and you can’t figure out why beyond the reason that he’s just a pessimistic old capitalist. As much as you want the adrenaline, you kinda can’t help but eventually enjoy his presence as well despite his temper and general grumpiness. Having been alone for over two decades without friends does that to someone. You needed warmth again.

•Maybe you grew attached to all the times you felt you were winning when you snubbed an artifact. Also, after collecting and sneaking a few gold coins into your own pocket, you were finally getting out of debt and on track to actually start your own business involving (F/H). You had the dream that you could travel where you wanted and finally find peace from your own mind and problems.

•Scrooge, despite his own warnings to himself not to persue, can’t help but offer you a job working for him. You made adventuring a million times better and were a great addition to the team, providing your own perspective or plan for the times he and his family would journey out. Oh, and he’d finally get the opportunity to be around you more. It was refreshing to see how optimistic you managed to remain despite your current financial predicament. (Which he contemplated solving.)

•Soon, however, Scrooge began to see that you were not as happy go lucky as you pretended to be, at least not when you weren’t on another treasure hunt. Something appeared to be gnawing at you. Deep down inside, it appeared to plague you and Scrooge began to worry for your well being and as a too curious for his own good duck, he needed to know what was going on. Especially when he had caught you quickly wiping away tears while you began to head home. What could possibly be causing you this pain?

•He had to find out and to his own realization, he had to know now. After all the times you saved and helped him, he wanted to make sure you were at least doing alright in return. He ordered Launchpad to tail you home and Launchpad, oh so very loyal, doesn’t question it much.

•Most yanderes might suffer from the constant delusion that their victims love them back or that they’re in the right but that’s not the case with Scrooge. There are times where he does try to justify himself, but this is mainly due to a fit of rage or to play innocent to you. Most of the time, he knows his actions are wrong and the burning temptation is causing a war. Very early on, he suppresses his curiosity and the growing feelings he has about you. Especially when they begin to boil into something far darker. Although he’s done this to nearly everyone, being cold to you and pushing you away seemed to be his way of trying to ensure your well being instead of his. He was finding it hard not to think about you sometimes.

•Soon enough though, he begins to grow inquisitive about your personal life as you open up to him and define yourself as a person instead of another blur. You were always quite genuine to just sit around and talk to him and despite denying it to himself, Scrooge was lonely, especially after the Spear of Selene. Sometimes you’d joke to him, sometimes you’d think philosophically. Sometimes it was just a mutual, comfortable silence.

•Scrooge might make excuses aloud to you, but doesn’t lie to himself. All the times he’s made you work later or given you an extra dose of paperwork was because he wanted to keep you around and in his line of sight. 12 hours without you was turning into a painful reminder of how isolated he was, even with Beakley around. You were a warmth, a cool, calm warmth.

• “I’ll eventually need to know her address later on in case she’s attacked by one of my adversaries anyways.” Nope, Scrooge wasn’t fooling himself with that sentiment. He knew he was invading your privacy, but he also knew that he was too nosy to care enough.

•The main problem is that although Scrooge knows a lot of what he’s doing isn’t right, he begins to care less and less. (Though this process takes quite a while.) You’re a valuable and positive part of his life, you had stayed when everyone else had abandoned him for his admittedly awful mistakes. He can’t lose another person he treasures. Especially not you. You’re becoming the shiniest yet. Losing you might mean losing himself in some sense.

•Scrooge tries to shake off the guilt but only finds that maybe it’s better to punish himself by feeling it. He’s currently following along your path to wherever your destination currently is.

•Of course, his iconic shiny limousine would be a sore thumb sticking out to both you, the media, and Duckberg in general so he makes sure to either trail far behind or to have another mode of transportation available. Regardless, Scrooge never hires another person to watch you in place.

•Scrooge doesn’t even install cameras. He’d rather experience your life from his own two eyes and not as reported from another bird or screen. He rather liked tracking you himself. It gave him a place to go and at least he’d be able to bask in your duality himself. Sometimes you cried, he found to his own breaking heart. Sometimes you’d smile, (mostly only in his presence, to his delight.)

•Most of all, though, you seem caught in the present of life. Distracted, even. It seems though, that sometimes you’re so distracted that you don’t even notice something is off. Or maybe you yourself are too unable to break the cycle of adrenaline adventure to see it. Maybe you yourself were actively creating excuses, at least at first as to why you sometimes ran into Scrooge McDuck everywhere.

•If there’s something else Scrooge is a master at other than money, it’s with keeping up the detached and reserved persona of a wealthy individual. After all, who would suspect him of such crimes like these? He’s just a selfish, greedy businessman that only cares about his wealth, right? He’d never bother with other birds unless he was shaking hands at a conference table.

•Wrong. As you and him grow to become more like mentor and student, Scrooge begins to insert himself everywhere he possible can in your life, especially after seeing the shitfest that was your social group, what little of it there was. Apparently, you’d finally made a few friends over the years working for him and there was only one out of all of them that Scrooge approved of.

•Two of them, both identical Peacock twins appeared to be fascinated with your link to him and nothing more. It made some sense. After all, who could say they were a close worker to the richest duck in the world? The other one, a tall and lanky chicken, was getting far too handsy with you, and the final, a feline male was nothing but gossip and drama.

•To add to insult, you were a pretty big pushover outside of work which meant that they would drag you to places you didn’t even want to go and pressure you to have drinks you didn’t want to taste. They were in love with the mask you put up, not the complex and amazing face behind it. The one that you were beginning to let Scrooge see.

• Scrooge watches from a distance as your laugh reverberates. The laugh appears to Scrooge as unwavered and solid, mechanical in nature like it was a reoccurring script. Gazing at your face, he could see that your smile was strained, beak scrunched. You just wanted to go home and nothing more.

•The chicken next to you he was sucking a cigarette and the smoke blew in your direction, replacing your laugh with coughing and the others cackled with drunk glee, their solo cups tipping as they did. You blew it off as an accidental push in the wind which, by the way, wasn’t even blowing.

•Out of all of them, Scrooge hated the lanky chicken, who’s name he learned was Gale, the most. You deserved far better than that. Surely you saw through his sleazy act, right? Why were you hanging around such a ratched group of birds? Just how blind were you to their usage of you?

•Almost without even realizing it himself, Scrooge had tailed you the entire way home. After having to torment himself with an hour of seeing you torment yourself, he figured that maybe you’d find something that made you happy other thanyour little flock of “friends.”

•So he was admitting to being a stalker to himself. Did that mean he’d be able to admit it to oblivious ol’ you? Well, no. At least, not for now. Not until you trust him completely. Oh well, he’ll never go further than then that, right? He was watching you, but not engaging in any way. Nothing worse could come out of it..

•Wrong.

•After a while of having you working under him at McDuck Industries, Scrooge began to realize just how much financial control he had over you. Not only did you depend on him cod for paycheck, your landlord worked for someone who worked for him. In other words, the spot of land you were living on was an apartment company that belonged to him. You were living under one of his roofs. All he’d have to do was shift some circumstances and you’d either be homeless or debt free forever. Scrooge of course, plays the benevolent route and lowers it significantly for you. Why antagonize you?

•After having taken that action, Scrooge noticed more and more of a smile on your face as you realized that you didn’t have to depend paycheck to paycheck for food on the table. He had also been aware that you had a side hobby now, involving (F/H.) sometimes you joked you’d start a business and go off parting ways with that hobby. It was source of entertainment to watch you be..Well, you. There was this genuine behavior about you that just drew him in.

•If Scrooge wasn’t adventuring with you or at a meeting also with you, he was still with you. You just didn’t know it yet. Interestingly however, you’d begun to pick up the signs that there was a presence in your life. Whereas you didn’t close the blinds before, you did now. Or maybe that was from all the adventures you’d nearly died on fighting others off. Maybe it was paranoia.

•Eventually, Scrooge managed to break into your apartment under the guise to Launchpad that he’d been invited by you. A ludicrous lie, of course, but Launchpad is gullible to a fault when it comes to Scrooge. He’s loyal like that, and his friendliness to you plays into Scrooge’s emotional manipulation later on.

•As Scrooge sneaks in while you’re still home, he makes his way behind the kitchen counter which seperated your living room. He didn’t expect you to be right there in the living room, but you were, just five feet away from him and the window he snuck in. The window was to your right. He had carefully parted the curtains. Your couch was sitting approximately five feet from the window balcony, facing a corner of the wall with the T.V off.

•Peculiarly, you hadn’t even noticed he’d entered by rigging the door. You were right there, not staring at his direction, but he should have at least appeared in your peripheral. Just what were you doing to be so disconnected to the reality around you? It was worrying.

•Now hidden behind the counter directly to the left of you, he observes your desensitized form. For a moment, Scrooge thought you were a corpse until he peered closer. You were still there, physically. Mentally you looked as if you were in a whole other dimension. In a rather bold move, Scrooge slowly stands up and positions himself in the archway, watching you from his spot.

•You were still, so very still unlike all the times you’d fidget at work or with those “friends.” You still breathed and your hands shook slightly and there was color to your eyes but you yourself didn’t even seem present whatsoever. Your eyes were glazed and far away. It was just your body sitting there in that couch. It was worrisome and yet there was a blissful smile to your face seconds later.

•It was you, daydreaming about something. Something you obviously enjoyed. Scrooge, to his own shame, hoped it involved him. For a few more moments, all you did was sigh like you were meditating. It was haunting how easily you had lost yourself within the confines of your tumbling mind. Somehow, you were blocking out the world beyond, maladaptively.

• Scrooge knew he was taking a huge risk. All you’d have to do to spot him now was swivel your head a few inches or wake up from dreamland. It would take a few inches to ruin what you thought of him.

Just then, to Scrooge’s horror, you had slowly picked yourself off the couch. Your body shuttered as your head snapped up. He knew he was taking a huge risk with this and began to think that maybe it was a terrible idea after all. (Who was he kidding, it was terrible in the first place, he knew what he was doing.)

•He quickly fell back to his crouched position behind the counter, silently and expertly as you turned around and made your way closer and closer. There was a tense moment in which Scrooge contemplated just knocking you down completely and rendering you unconscious. All it would take was a few seconds. Maybe you’d forget or maybe he’d give you the dreamland you seemed so desperate to reach. It would certainly give him peace of mind to know where you are 24/7..All he’d have to do is knock you out and take you to the manor. You’d be secure and have everything you need there…

•Your presence was setting him alight, in the good way and bad way. He loved being near you. But hated the idea of you getting any closer right now, because you getting any closer would ruin your trust in him entirely. A few more steps is all there was between the idol you saw Scrooge as and the monster he was growing to be. You were like a fire. The heat scorched his feathers. Then, when you were away, his thoughts.

•Your steps were louder than they’d ever been. Then, to Scrooge’s unbelievable luck, you turned towards the hallway away from the kitchen. Scrooge knew not to push his luck trying to follow or stay, so despite his clawing urge to figure you out, he hesitantly snuck out with unanswered questions on your concerning mental state.

•It had been a months since that incident and Scrooge was moving onto bigger and bolder actions. Sometimes he’d swipe you away from any conversations you had with your friends by calling you in for a task. Sometimes he’d eat up all your time by keeping you in late, and taking you to places far away that required days of travel.

•Sometimes he’d drive bad influences away by financially ruining their life forever.

You noticed Gale’s downfall quickly, but you didn’t have any idea it was Scrooge who was responsible. Gale lived actually, three complexes from you and oh so suddenly, rent had begun to skyrocket in the particular room he had to himself. This led to him being presented with an eviction notice. You didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. (Not that you wanted to, though.) deep down you were glad he was gone and Scrooge knew it. Gale had to move far off to find an affordable spot. It was a mercy considering how often Scrooge had dreamed of just throwing him into the ocean tied up for the sharks to find. He was a toxic influence.

•Maybe if someone pushed his button just right, Scrooge would end up killing them, and who would care? There were seven billion fellow people on the planet. Scrooge could just get rid of any threat he wanted and no one would notice or ever suspect it was him. After all, he’s just a grumpy old man with a cane.

•It turns out, Scrooge had picked up on your plans to possibly quit your job. He had never felt his heart sink like it did now. He was fighting off his initial shock as you stood in his office, masking it with a detached face. You hadn’t even confirmed the statement. All you’d said was that maybe you’d found a company within your favorite hobby.

•It was just a small implication. But, Implications could become statements, which could turn into actions, and Scrooge couldn’t let the thought even be a presence in your mind.

•You had stayed with him throughout the years of his loneliest moments, had confessed secrets, had confided in him. You were like his pupil, learning from him and you were like his partner, fighting alongside him. Maybe you were something different altogether.

•...Was it a friend that convinced you? It had to be. Scrooge knew how much you enjoyed galavanting around the world with him. There’s no way you’d just fly off without him.-

“I promise I’ll still occasionally go with you, Scrooge. (A first name basis. This was devolving from anything normal.) I found my passion. We can still adventure together, but I found a path that also makes me happy and doesn’t ya know, get me killed.” You chuckle as if it were nothing. A light joke.

•So you were leaving. You were going to go. Why? You had a great paycheck, (an expensive one that took a lot of money,) you had the opportunity to travel the world. You had the best job you’d ever get. Who else was going to be as good as him? He won’t let you destroy your future by applying for a Mediocre position at some dumptruck company.

•As it turns out, the bird responsible for swaying you was none other than one of the peacocks, her name was Shelby. She and you laughed, and for the first time, your laugh was genuine. Genuine with her and not with Scrooge. You both shared each other’s stories, and she in return had encouraged your little dangerous fantasy of being independent.

•Now of course Scrooge realized how ridiculous this all sounded. He had willingly allowed you to go on perilous adventures with him, but at least then, you were with him. How could he keep an easy eye on you if you just moved off to some rando spot? Plus, he was plenty good as saving you. He was your hero.

•Bad influences needed to go away.

•Scrooge might lie to himself about how much it digs under his feathers, but to see you around other people really dug wrong. He itched every time you decided to take advice from other people, or confide in them instead of him. He was the one you could go to, not them. Your secrets didn’t need to be shared with anyone else but Scrooge. All those rare and precious things that made you yourself didn’t need to be snatched by thieves like Shelby or Gale or whoever else.

•He knew that his criminal actions would scare you. Even with your growing trust and dependence on him, he knew it was too early for you to want to stay with him if you knew what he’s been doing. If he wanted your presence, he’d keep it through lengths you’d find terrifying.

•Scrooge found your biggest flaw was that you always attracted the wrong crowd, and it was primarily because you were always trying to impress others when they really didn’t deserve the magnificent canvas you painted yourself to be. To his even greater detriment, you were beginning to spend your time more and more with Shelby. The canvas you painted was beautiful, as always. But it wasn’t for him, and he found that he was not happy with this new development.

•Don’t you know people take advantage of kindness? It happened to him all the time and still does. It happened to you over and over and yet you kept venturing forth giving out your trust like it was nothing. The world is a sour place if you’re not careful. Cursed kilts, you were already naive about Gale. Who knows how badly future people would hurt you, even if they were well intentioned.

Scrooge could tell that, despite him insisting otherwise, you thought leaning on his shoulder was burdening him. He wanted to make sure you knew it was anything but that. As a matter of fact, he wanted you to lean on his shoulder every moment he possibly could get you to. What was just you occasionally asking for advice on impersonal things becomes entire sessions with Scrooge encouraging you to reveal every personal detail of your life.

•You had revealed that many times, you just wanted independence. A company of your own to possibly build so you could pursue life your own way. Scrooge knew these dangerous thoughts were one of the final roadblocks. Scrooge had to prevent them. Be it through roughening you up financially or discouraging you. Be it from murdering outside influences, too. Who was going to miss the miserable miscreants that plagued your life anyways?

•It is three days before the date you had decided that you would resign. Instead of being merry, you were miserable. The opportunity you had to get the job was burned by them not even calling you for an interview. After your resume, why would they reject you? You had the word of one of the finest businessmen out there to back you up. Scrooge himself promised to put in a good word for you! You were perfectly qualified for the job you were looking for. In your days of being rejected from the position you wanted, you confide in Scrooge. You don’t know it but as he pats your shoulder, he’s thinking of the next way to sabotage your efforts of leaving him.

•Shelby ends up going missing. She was one of your closest friends and the only one who finally treated you well. Your devastation causes a major setback in any ambitious plans as you isolate yourself from anyone else but only the closest person left in your life; Scrooge.

•Currently, you were enveloped in a warm hug, the side of your face leaning in the crook of Scrooge’s neck as he calmed your crying form down, patting your back and promising you his presence would remain forever. You wept at Shelby’s funeral, so did her twin sister and their parents, who, upon seeing Scrooge, had nearly fainted in shock.

•Despite your tumultuous relationship with Shelby, she had actually begun to redeem much of her previously antagonistic actions towards you. She was in a rough place when you had developed a connection with her. So you wept in your boss’s, or rather, your best confidantes arms. You wept.

Scrooge, however, did not.

[windfavord]

He’s not sure exactly when he started thinking this way. While he’s never really had a positive opinion of himself, never really felt like he’d actually be right, be enough, it was only later on that he became as self-destructive and heedless of his own pain as he is now…

No doubt that person had some influence on it. The mere memory of that snake makes his skin crawl and anger boil up within his gut.

He coughs up a bit more blood.

Needless to say, he’d grown desensitized a long time ago… and truthfully he doesn’t see much of a problem with it.

“… I see,” he replies, making note of Steven’s explanation. “I was more curious… about the process. How it works. How one would get from here to there.”

Another laugh. “I didn’t expect it to be pleasant. Really, I’m hardly unused to things like that. It’s only pain, after all. My constitution is… perfectly capable of handling the strain,” he mutters. “I’ve already been pushed to and my limit and surpassed it time and time again. You shouldn’t worry.”

That’s right. Steven doesn’t have any good reason to worry about him. If he lives or dies or is tormented, so what? They’re practically strangers!

… but this “stranger” still scraped him up off the street, and now he’s taking him back home to fix him.

The Wanderer sighs. At the very least, he supposed he owes Steven his cooperation.

“My body… I think it’s similar in design to a human’s, but fundamentally mechanical. I—” he cuts off. He’s lived for nearly five centuries, undergone countless repairs and modifications during that time. And yet… “I can’t really tell you exactly how to fix the damage… it’s been awhile since I haven’t been able to self-repair, but even that was automatic. I’ve never had to handle my own repairs, apart from small things.”

And the person who had done most of the repairing and modifying had specialized in studying both human bodies and things like him. Conveniently, the Doctor had never shared any of those trade secrets with his test subject.

“Just… put the pieces back together however you can. Once things are lined up the right way, I should heal.”

It’s seven-parts speculation, and it may take awhile. But now, his body is more human-like than before. Even without his divine abilities, he should still be able to recover eventually as long as he stopped hemmhoraging energy.

The reassurance makes him feel a little bit better, though he still doesn't like the idea behind it all. Testing the properties of this world... It's still the same thing after all. Just a less permanent death.

The rest of the explanation doesn't make him feel much better honestly. Wanting to see what the killers of this world are like? That there's a killer here is bad enough but seeking him out to see what he's like? Steven huffs a little.

"If you want to ask what dying here is like, I can tell you that myself. It's not pleasant, everything hurts when you wake back up and come out of the tower again. Though I can't speak about the killer himself, my death was before he went after anyone." Lips press into a thin line and he shakes his head slightly. "I haven't encountered him yet myself."

It doesn't matter right now though, what matters right now is that the guy is messed up and needs help.

"What can I do to help you? Channeling you energy isn't going to be enough to really help fix anything and you know your body best. What do you need to get better?" He's obviously not human or any kind of creature Steven's encountered before and it's better to ask rather then attempt to help without knowing anything.

"I was planning on taking you back to my house to see if I can help fix you up but if you'd rather go somewhere else I'll take you there instead." He's conscious enough to ask questions of, even if he's clearly exhausted.

[redrobin-detective]

So I’m actually taking the time to watch Ben 10 Alien Force and it’s, okay. I can admit it has a more cohesive long term plot process than Omniverse and some of the stories ARE good I just can’t really vibe with it. I’m still watching it but it’s not the same burning need I felt with OV and I’m not sure how much further I’ll get before I entirely lose interest. 

I know a lot of people like AF so I’m going to put my slightly critical thoughts under a read more so those who don’t want to see it can skip it.

The reason I can’t get into the series like I did OV, for me, is the characters are lacking in any true dimension making me not invest in the series. Ben in particular, the heart and soul of the series, feels like a cardboard cutout of a character without much defining personality to make me believe he’s Ben much less an actual person. Having watched both OG and OV I can describe, off the top of my head, what Ben is like. 

Ben of the original series was a horrible little gremlin child with a heart of gold in there somewhere. He was childish and reckless, sometimes acting out or going too far with his pranks. He has a variety of interests and things he doesn’t like but finally gets a handle of his abilities and learns that being a hero isn’t just about beating up bad guys, it’s about standing up and protecting others.

Likewise, OV Ben has been around the block as a teen superhero. While he is still a bit full of himself and reckless, a lot of it is a carefully constructed façade so people don’t see how stressed and nervous he is about the heavy burden on his shoulders. He’s desensitized to how weird his life has become and is good at adapting and thinking on his feet. Like his younger self, he has a variety of likes and dislikes, some the same and some different as he grew up.

15 eps in AF and I still can’t really think of how to describe Ben, he’s got the personality of a freezer burned low fat waffle. He’s just a very standard teen boy without any true defining traits. I haven’t seen him talk about any interests, express any real opinions on anything. Like he had to put on the Omnitrix again after taking it off for a normal life and it doesn’t seem to have any impact on him. AF Ben is also almost always in the right, always the calm one (esp compared to Kevin who’s his own mess of one track stereotypes) with a perfectly straight moral code. He’s quiet, polite, he makes a few quips but otherwise is just kind of there. When he’s not actively engaged in the plot, he’s just sitting there with a vacant expression and a half smile. In an attempt to make him “normal” and “relatable” they not only stripped the character of anything that makes him stand out but also anything that makes him Ben Tennyson. 

OS and OV Ben are always moving, either fiddling with the Omnitrix or bouncing their leg or lounged in a precarious position while mouthing off. He’s a very energetic sort, spirited in a way that’s as admirable as it is aggravating. To watch AF Ben sit passively in Kevin’s car, hands on his knees, back straight. It’s like looking at a stranger. 

I loved Ben because he was fiery lil shit, half feral and running into everything half cocked because he’s stupid but also has a big bleeding heart. He’s a good boy, theoretically and gets better as he matures but he struggles with his self image and decision making. Kid has also straight up, and knowingly murdered and will do so again. He is a one universe force of nature running around, causing and fixing problems in the same breath. God I love this disaster. AF Ben feels so far removed from this Ben and it frankly bores me.

I’ll keep going but I remember when I first watched AF years ago when it first aired, I watched at least the first 10 episodes before I quit. I recall thinking that it didn’t feel like Ben 10 anymore and it really doesn’t. Yes it has some interesting storylines, yes the worldbuilding and lore expansion is appreciated. But god I just can’t invest in these characters. For all of Omniverse’s faults, at least the character felt not only like an actual person but who Ben is supposed to be. Ben is not and never was your ‘boy next door good boy superhero’ he’s ‘local child menace gains infinite powers uses them to steal a golf cart’. 

[infinitum-imaginaerum]

Graffiti | Jaehyun | 06

BadboyTagger!Jaehyun | Series Words | 6,400+ Warnings | Language, Mature themes, Blood, Violence

05 | 06 | 07

A strained groan fell from his throat as he stirred, stretching his stiffened back muscles from a rock-like sleep—the first one he’d had in as long as he could remember. No sleeping with one eye open, no fears lingering in the back of his mind, no waking up a hundred times in the midst of his sleep; just solid, motionless, deep rest. The blinds were cracked just enough that the natural sunlight was illuminating a majority of your living room, but it was a soothing blocked light that didn’t hurt his desensitized eyes.

It took a moment for him to pick up on the wafting coffee scent that filled your apartment and he wondered if you had a coffee pot set on a timer or if he had actually slept through you getting up and rummaging around in next to silence. You could have harmed him, if you wanted, a thought that quickly crossed his mind as he considered checking if you were up. Maybe it was best to clear that thought, first, even if he had spent so much time watching his back. The fact of the matter was that you didn’t.

He stretched a bit more before picking himself up from your pull-out, intending to greet you for a cup of coffee before returning to sit for a bit on the comfort of it. He lifted his arms high above his head to stretch a little bit more before plucking his jeans off the floor to slip them on and then wandered around the end-table to the kitchen, but you were nowhere to be found.  The pot of coffee was eyeing him—it looked like there was already a cup or so taken out of it, so he quietly looked through the cabinets before coming across a mug to pour himself a cup, hoping it was for him too.

Your name fell from his mouth a couple of times as he muttered it into the air—if you had gone back to sleep, he didn’t want to bother you. And he assumed that’s where you were at when there was no reply; he wasn’t about to check your room or go lurking around your place. So he turned back to the counter just to stand there and process some thoughts, especially when he reached up to touch the tender and still somewhat bruised flesh around his eye.

Meanwhile, you had tiptoed out of your room having just finished toweling your hair after a shower, noticing that he wasn’t where you left him. He stood somewhat slumped over the counter in front of the coffee pot, lifting his mug to take a sip now and again. It was hard not to notice the line of his shoulders, the way they tapered into his neck, but most importantly, it was hard not to notice the silver lines that sunk into the back of his black tank-top. Your feet were silent across the kitchen floor, hands tentative as they reached around his middle. He startled, almost slamming the mug down on the counter as he captured one of your hands just as you’d laid your head against his back.

“It’s just me,” you cooed gently.

“You startled me,” he replied lowly, attempting to look over his shoulder, but you were so deep in his back it was not possible to see you. He slowly let go of your hand, letting it join your other to wrap around his middle so you could relish his warmth. The stiffness slowly faded as he acclimated to your grasp, hands against the cool countertop as he slumped back over just a tad.  “You were awfully quiet, creeping around this morning,” he said, mildly disturbed that it was the case, that he slept through the sink running and anything else you did in there, like rummaging in the cabinets.

“You were sleeping, and it seemed like well; I didn’t want to disturb you,” you replied, not finding his particular wording curious in the slightest. You left one of your arms reeled around his middle, but the other tugged back to touch against a particularly rough looking scar against the back of his right arm that disappeared deep into the cut of his tank top. You could feel him seize up under your touch; surely he had detailed inventory of what and where his scars were. He stood tall to move, so you gave him some space to abandon his coffee on the counter as he turned around in front of you to lean somewhat against it. Unable to help the way your gaze flickered across him, you stood with your arms at your sides and let your eyes go, observing the collar of his tank, the line of his shoulders that not only looked strong, not only felt strong, but were so, and the way they tapered into his neck, the sharpness of his jawline, the hard line of his mouth that sat relaxed.

He looked you over similarly, but more noting the bruise against your cheek which was far less bad than he anticipated, but also noticed some additional bruising at your neck. Tentatively, he reached up to touch against your bruised cheek, catching you flinch a bit before his thumb brushed against it. A somewhat exasperated sigh pushed from his nose as he looked at you, feeling the guilt about your injuries, although he still stood by the fact that you shouldn’t be leaving so late knowing the risks.

His hand dropped immediately as your eyes cast over to it—his bandaged left hand which no longer had a rough gauze strapped around it, but instead just had that large bandaid over the back of it. Even still, he didn’t want you to see. He could hide that a lot better than the cut against his cheek.

Almost pathetic is the way he would describe the way you looked up at him. Your arms dangled at your sides as you scrutinized that cut, the fading black eye, the weathered look of his face—he looked aged in an interesting type of way, just like he’d seen and been through a lot now that you were seeing him in good light. He held his mouth in a hard line, his features stark. For a moment, his lips curled in so he could moisten them, feeling nervous under your gaze.

“What a mess we both are,” you finally said, breaking the awkward silence, but you couldn’t say that those particular words made it less awkward. But the awkwardness seemed to be the least of Jaehyun’s worries, at least, as you stepped between his bare feet, your hands gingerly touching against his abdomen to lean up and nuzzle the bridge of your nose against his jaw. For some reason, it had his breath hitching, had his expressive eyebrows raise in somewhat surprise. One of his hands finessed yours into it, the other captured your hip to give him some semblance of control.

He choked out your name hesitantly, almost warningly. You pulled far enough away to look up at him, to watch him try to stave off a shy smile which tugged the cut of his dimples in a light you could finally see them. A smile broke on your own face in response.

“The big bad wolf has dimples,” you stated, resulting in him immediately covering as much of his face as he could with the hand that was on your hip; it proved sufficient.

“I figured you noticed before and just didn’t say anything,” he answered, trying really hard to put his grin away, but yours was infectious, and he found himself smiling even harder. “Please don’t say they’re charming, or whatever girls say about dimples on a boy; it’s embarrassing.”

“Jaehyun,” you protested, rolling your eyes while your hand furled in his shirt, the other in his hand.

“Don’t,” he pleaded, giving your hand a squeeze while his other finally removed itself from his face to step you back from him. “I’m running away,” he said, turning to grab his mug of coffee and agilely stepped past you to head back to the living room.

Jaehyun sat cross-legged on the pull-out couch atop the covers when you joined him. He watched you curiously as you finessed your way onto it with him, sitting far enough away, perhaps not close enough. His phone vibrated against the couch-side table, and you watched as he rolled his eyes again, having noted the time on the coffee pot to indicate that it was already later than he thought—later than he promised he’d be back. But somewhere in there, as he looked at you in a set of baggy clothes with damp hair sipping some coffee across from him on the pull-out couch in your living room where he’d previously slept…it didn’t seem to matter.

Especially not as he reached out to take one of your hands, a repressed ache for your touch finding the surface of his desires as he tugged it up to his soft lips to press a gentle kiss into your fingers. Every time he did so, he peered at you from under his lashes with the somewhat downward tilt of his head. It hooded his eyes a little bit more, and it sent a shiver to your very soul when he looked at you like that.

His phone began vibrating again, and this time you encouraged him not to ignore it. Instead of letting go of your hand like you assumed he would, he swapped his coffee with his phone and swiped to answer Taeyong’s incessant calling.

“I know, I’m late,” he said, instead of saying hello. “I accidentally slept in, I’m just having one cup of coffee—”

“You slept?” Taeyong asked.  He wasn’t mad about it, in fact far from it. He knew Jaehyun had problems sleeping ever since knowing him. So the fact that he was able to sleep, in a shelter that wasn’t even his own may have been slightly alarming.  “I was just getting concerned considering your location and the issues surrounding it in reference to the time. You said you’d be back early, but you’re your own person,” he added, which kind of took Jaehyun aback.

Taeyong was typically a lot stricter, and he’d been a little cryptic about this situation with you. Jaehyun knew he had good intentions, just trying to look out for his friends, especially him, lurking in neighborhoods that were extremely dangerous.  

“I won’t say take your time, but no need to rush; wake up, be alert, be safe,” Taeyong said.

Jaehyun nodded, following it with a hum. Still, his fingers were playing with yours, stealing glances at your face while you busied yourself looking down at them. His hands were even a bit scarred up, but they felt so soft in yours somehow. His fingers were nimble, slender; his touches calculated, gentle, precise. A few more soft words left Jaehyun’s lips, words you didn’t hear but it didn’t seem to make a difference anyway. He discarded his phone on the end table once more, and suddenly your hand was eclipsed by his other one.

Your gaze rose to his face, noticing the sweet half-smile he afforded you while also trying to get a glimpse into your thoughts. The way he could already tell when you were thinking was astounding; maybe it came with needing to be so observant of everyone all the time, or maybe the chemistry between you was too real.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked you, as if he was able to read your thoughts about him reading your thoughts.

You gently shook your head. There wasn’t really much to tell him, and honestly you wouldn’t dare ask about the small conversation with Taeyong because it was quite frankly none of your business. His hands gave yours a squeeze before he reached for his coffee again to take another sip. He would need that slight edge of alertness to get him to the correct side of town for him, but he didn’t want to worry you with that, instead he occupied you with something else.

“I want to take you on an actual date,” he said abruptly, not really giving himself a moment to think twice about it. It had been something that stewed in his mind since last night. If he was going to continue this path with you, he might as well try to bring some normalcy to your budding relationship.

“Oh?” you replied delicately. You could already tell the being out was a somewhat difficult time for Jaehyun, for reasons you’d yet to unfold to your knowledge, so you found the statement rather bold but maybe he had a plan already.

“It’s already been such hell with me; I just want to treat you to something normal,” he explained, his voice low, soft, almost inaudible as his fingers continued to play with yours, his gaze cast down to them—he was somewhat afraid of even looking at your face.

You smiled a bit as you looked at him, watched the way his fringe curtained over his face a bit. “Rest assured when I say that I’ve been through my fair share of uneasy stuff,” you said. Maybe now wasn’t the time for explanation, you knew he had to be getting on his way and it was a big step; it would be a conversation for another time, there was plenty the both of you needed to tell each other about yourselves and about the situation. “Besides,” you added, trying to diffuse the reel of thoughts in his head, “it’s not been so bad, you always do your best to take care of me anyway.”

“You keep saying these ridiculous things and giving me credit I think is undeserved,” he reminded you.

“You are so stubborn, you know,” you fired back with a roll of your eyes as you took another sip of your coffee.

“I just know the truth,” he replied, not intending on letting you win this one.  But you gave him a look, and it almost had him reeling back as you made your way to your knees, slowly walking yourself across the cool comforter to close the distance between the two of you to set your mug on the table next to his and for a moment, he thought he was safe.

“You know a pre-conceived truth,” you reminded him.

He almost couldn’t respond, tongue swollen against his throat as he looked at you, high on your knees in front of him donning an oversized tee that covered your shorts hanging mid-thigh with your hair a tousled wet mess that mangled his insides. He looked up to your cocky and expectant gaze, waiting for him to say something you would inevitably shoot down with your facts, while his hands furled into the comforter.

“I just know what I’ve always known, that I don’t bring anything good with me,” he finally answered, though that was barely audible as well.

“You listen here,” you said in a strict tone, punctuating it with a gentle smile as you took two handfuls of his tank top to drag him nearer to you. “I’ll tell you a million times if I have to, you have defended and protected me on a handful of occasions and even that doesn’t absolve you of other things you may have done, that’s all you’ve done to me and is therefore all I can judge fairly.”

In that, you had a point. But to Jaehyun, it didn’t work that way. He opened his mouth to reply.

“You just won’t stop,” you said before he could even say anything, pushing both of your closed fists against his chest to push him as far onto his back as the pillows underneath him would allow, which wasn’t too far, but it changed the look on his face. “Even when your resolve is weak and you answer weakly.”

Jaehyun was too occupied controlling the fall of your hips, holding you somewhat over his still crossed legs that you were stretched across. Even if he wasn’t occupied with that, he didn’t have a good reply, so it wouldn’t have made a difference, especially not when you leaned over to place a soft kiss against his cheek, then against his jaw, and then against his neck to elicit a deep inhale, his chest expanding against your clenched hands.

The feel of your tender kisses against his neck wiped all thoughts he had on the matter away in an instant. His eyes fluttered closed in a matter of a second. Maybe he was starved for affection because of the hole he’d dug and kept himself in, and maybe that was his whole infatuation with you, but surely it was more than that. He cared immensely for your well-being, so it was already deeper than superficial especially when that was his primary concern.

“Duchess…” he pleaded. He still needed to get back relatively quickly, his mug of coffee nearing gone that could not be forgotten about. “I still need to get back relatively—”

He hummed into your delicate kiss, collecting his protesting lips against your own in the way you wish he had done last night before heading off to bed. His grip tightened against your hips, leaning up into your kiss only for you to pull away far too soon. While his eyes remained closed for a moment, his teeth ground together—he was stuck between a rock in a hard place having just complained about having to go but also wanting to complain about the transitory nature of that kiss.

Against his better judgment, probably, he turned you both over to put you onto your back, casting himself off to the side of your hips so he could hover over you, the curtain of his fringe tickling your forehead, he was already so close. He looked at you intensely while you met him with a half-smile, your eyes already half-lidded as you looked up at him, a little too alluringly. Delicately, he stroked against your bruised cheek, leaning down to kiss it as lightly as a feather.

“You’re mean to me,” he joked.

“I thought you just said you wanted to take me on a proper date,” you replied with a giggle.

“I don’t think those things are mutually exclusive,” he responded, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours, feeding that affection-craving fire in the pit of his stomach. Was it affection-craving or was it you­-craving?

“Sometimes I don’t know how to ask for things properly when I want them, so I come back later and just take it myself,” you said, alluding to the situation from last night when he had chosen to let you go to bed with just a chaste kiss against your knuckles.

“Hmm…” he voiced and leaned over a bit further, dodging your face to sink into the crook of your neck. His lips were a little cold against your skin, placing calculated pecks against your neck that had you trying to shrug him out of it. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way the goosebumps pushed at the surface of your skin, the way a shiver ripped down your spine that had your eyes falling closed, the way you relished those tender kisses as he kissed up to the curve of your jaw until he was close enough to whisper in your ear. “I think you just want to get me in trouble.”

You hadn’t noticed the way one of your hands had furled in the front of his tank, or the way you were tugging on it to pull him closer to you until he was unfurling your hand from it, just to bring it up and kiss your knuckles a handful of times. He reeled back completely, taking his mug from the table to drink down the rest of his coffee and you knew it was time for him to head out.  

Jaehyun sat on the edge of that pullout, pulling his button-up from the floor to flick it across his shoulders to begin buttoning before your legs appeared on either side of him and you laid your head against his back. The two of you sat for a moment, just like that, before his warm hands tentatively stroked against your legs for a moment before he was standing, and dragging you up by your hands into him for another fleeting moment to press a kiss against your head just to move you to the side to pull the fluffy comforter from the couch to fold it nicely and set it aside. He wouldn’t let you help with the sheets or anything else as he tucked the couch back into its proper form, putting all the cushions and decorative pillows back in their rightful spot.

“I have to go,” he reminded you, taking both of your cheeks in his wide hands, adoring the way one of your hands circled his wrist, while the other tugged him a little closer around his back. He rested his forehead against yours, letting you look into his eyes as deeply as you wanted and you could tell, in that instant, that there were so many layers to Jaehyun that were not only important to know, but that he surely would reveal to you soon.  

“Be good, be safe, I’ll find some potential times for our date, okay?” he asked you, feeling you nod against his head before he gathered your jaw upwards, slanting his mouth across yours for a more ardent kiss than the playful pecks you were dealing before. He kissed you breathless, he seemed to be pretty good at it already, before he was pulling away, reminding you again to be safe which had layers of meaning behind it—he would contact you about your next meeting. The stakes were higher than ever, having decided to commit to you. He was already in too deep, and too many people knew that.

You saw him out, some lingering grasps at each other’s fingers in the early morning hours that felt longing. You reminded him to be safe, as well; the two of you were well versed in the risks already, so you asked him to let you know when he was safe. He was extra cautious exiting your building, unsure if Yejun and friends had known that he spent the night at your place, but he wasn’t going to take any chances being nonchalant. He made a dash for the territory limits, getting out as soon as he could and into streets he was more familiar with, safer in, where he knew somebody would be looking out for him in an apartment window, or shop front.  

He had just hit send on the message he promised confirming his safety when he was met by complete spitfire.

“I guess you think it’s chill to just disappear and spend the night in an unsafe part of the city where people are literally out to kill you now; you’ve got some balls on you,” Johnny mentioned in passing, carrying his cup of coffee when he came across Jaehyun in the entryway of their quarters.

“I don’t recall needing your permission to do anything,” Jaehyun answered quickly. “It’s not as if I just went and didn’t say shit to anyone in the last, I don’t know, six hours. And I don’t recall ever policing any questionable decisions you’ve made, so how about you mind your business?”

Johnny turned to him with the scowl of the devil on his face and approached him. “Sorry, how many times have I dragged you out of almost getting arrested? How many times have I had your back when you were in trouble? And you have the audacity—”

“Nobody asked you to save me, or whatever,” Jaehyun shot back, sizing Johnny up a bit as he stood tall.

“Didn’t think you needed reminding, but this is a family where we look out for each other, not go out and be reckless at the expense of others.”

“The expense of others?” Jaehyun asked with a scoff. He almost had to laugh, he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Have you forgotten why I’m even here? What I went through before you all? Like I haven’t had my run ins with Yejun and friends, before, wait… Taeyong offered me a place to stay?” Jaehyun asked, tapping his chin in fake thought. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

“Knock it the fuck off,” Taeyong growled, taking a seat with his breakfast at the table that was just beyond the entry way through an arching doorway. “Not that Jaehyun needs signing off, but I did confirm his stay. I know you haven’t liked her from the beginning, but Jaehyun’s right. He’s been through the most, especially in regards to Yejun. Not to mention, he’s a grown man, and you’re not his mother,” Taeyong said, taking a spoonful of soup to drink it down as he stared straight ahead before Yuta and a few others joined him at the table.

“There’s hot breakfast in the kitchen for everyone, if you’re hungry, Jaehyun,” Yuta mentioned, taking his seat across from Taeyong.

Johnny was intent on making his point made, however, and forced Jaehyun to duck around him in order to make it to the kitchen, but not without giving him a look that meant he should watch himself. Jaehyun dished himself some breakfast and took a seat at the table with the others, sipping his second cup of coffee; yours tasted better.

The next few days continued tensely between Jaehyun and the rest of the crew with Johnny always having something to chirp about when Jaehyun was engrossed in his phone, probably having a conversation with you, but was hushed whenever he came around. Jaehyun wasn’t stupid, but he also wasn’t sure what Johnny’s purpose was trying to turn everyone against him when he probably didn’t even know the facts.

From what Jaehyun had gathered, Johnny was convinced you were some type of secret agent out to trap him and the rest of them; for what, he couldn’t be sure. Sure they were a group of misfits who vandalized buildings, and while that was against the law, if you were a secret agent and were trying to trap anyone then you should have been directing your efforts to the illegal dealings of Yejun and friends. And in the chance that the entire thing was fabricated, and Jaehyun was pretty sure that it was because why would you make such an effort to check on and take care of him just to try to throw them in jail, then what really was the purpose behind any of it? Johnny could just as easily make up something about anyone any of them knew.

One very serious point of tension between him and Johnny arose on a night Jaehyun opted to stay home from a paint. He still had a lot of thoughts about the situation swirling in his mind concerning your safety and the issues with Yejun and coming to the conclusion that he would eventually have to be resolved, somehow; the tension came when Jaehyun intentionally ignored a handful of calls from Johnny. Although it was unusual for Johnny to call more than once, and Jaehyun may have been in the wrong mindset, he was still pretty put off with the older for gossiping so much about Jaehyun’s affairs.

“I don’t get attached.”

“It’s not that easy anymore.”

“That’s against Jaehyun’s entire etiquette.”

These phrases made Jaehyun’s head want to explode, spinning around like crazy, and the incessant chiming of his phone wasn’t helping at all, especially not when he noticed a different contact rolling across his screen. Taeyong.

“We need backup at the warehouse, now.” Taeyong’s voice was stressed and urgent, not even hanging up the phone to allow Jaehyun to hear a couple of yells before hanging up the phone and jumping into his shoes to fly out the door, bringing whoever was around to help which included Jungwoo and Doyoung.  

Even though the warehouse wasn’t far, it was already dark, and there were dangers quite literally everywhere considering the warehouse bordered the territories. It was a cautious trip, quiet, knives drawn for protection before coming across the scene with great haste. A few couples engaged in combat, some hand to hand, some in stand-offs waiting for the other to make the first move. Taeyong yelled, motioning to Johnny who was having a hard time pushing away from the ground. Jaehyun found him first, gathering him under the arms to drag him back towards the warehouse. He didn’t look overly wounded, considering. His face was a little beaten, and obviously there was something preventing him from standing.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jaehyun asked urgently so that he could better assess what to do in the approaching minutes.

“I got swept from behind, my ankles beat but I don’t think it’s broken,” he hissed with a wince as Jaehyun made his way around to roll up the jeans on the indicated ankle and feel around for a moment. It definitely was swollen, probably rolled, nothing else felt out of place. He urged Jungwoo to rush over in a hurry to get Johnny somewhere else just in time to turn to catch the arm of Yejun.

“Don’t you know when to quit?” Jaehyun asked, somewhat annoyed as he fended the blow off.

He observed Yejun’s face, healing from those wounds you gave him just a few days prior. They would scar nastily; he could already tell. He wanted to spar, Jaehyun was ready for it and countered his attack. Knives clashed, ringing through the alleyway behind the warehouse as Jaehyun set his feet. The number one rule of knife fighting is disarming your opponent as quickly as possible. While most people are inclined to go for highly injuring strikes, Jaehyun focused on picking at the hand Yejun wielded his knife in, nicking his knuckles and fingers, the back of his hand here and there.

“Your little princess isn’t present,” Yejun teased.

“Yeah, she won’t be here to help you this time,” Jaehyun growled back, reminding him of the last time when Jaehyun had him in a vice-grip ready to choke him until the lights went out. Yejun snarled, having to admit defeat on that one but he wouldn’t be taken advantage of so easily this time.

Jaehyun was quick, alert, he knew what he needed to do, and that was avoid any more injuries. He dodged Yejun’s attacks like an elegant dancer, moving across the stage to high-tempo music. He needed to end it, to get Johnny and the rest of them out of there, especially as sirens began looming. No doubt residence of the area heard the commotion, they always seemed to be on top of it when shit was hitting the fan.

It wasn’t long before Yejun’s men were finally starting to fall back, attempting to disappear into the shadows to avoid what could be inevitable.

“You better go,” Jaehyun commented, “your boys are falling back left and right, wouldn’t want to be left to the wolves, would you?”

Yejun queued a nasty retort, but didn’t end up giving it, having been told he’d have to finish up later before he finally sunk into the shadows of the buildings, too. Yuta was already looking Johnny over for a moment, finally getting him to his feet. His ankle was tender to walk on, but he’d have to make somewhat of a trek, at least some distance away from where the police would be looking. Jaehyun was on watch, making sure nobody was lurking in the shadows, keeping track of foot police and routing their way through the alleys, eventually making it back.

The door slammed with everyone having made it in. Yuta was tending to Johnny in the other room as Taeyong paced in front of a waiting Jaehyun. He knew already there was a licking to be had, he had been busted intentionally ignoring Johnny’s calls, there was no doubt.

“I know you and John are having a disagreement right now,” Taeyong said calmly. That was the best Jaehyun could hope for.  “But you know as well as anyone else that number one, he doesn’t want to talk to you unless he needs to, and number two, when you are being reached out to more than once in a short time-span, don’t you think it might be important?”

His voice was raised by the end of that statement and he was face to face with Jaehyun, although Jaehyun was a bit taller. He swallowed hard; considering the circumstances, it could have been much worse, and that was his only saving grace.

“It was my mistake, I let my feelings get the best of me; it won’t happen again.”

“I support the things you’re trying to do. I support your personal relationships and no matter what anyone says, they are yours to handle. But don’t forget there is more to this family than Johnny. There is more to this family than you. We have all come together over common issues, and we must only allow that to make us stronger. When you are called upon, it is your obligation to answer it, as it is for all of us,” Taeyong lectured, giving Jaehyun a good reminder that it was that family who came to his rescue when he was about to bleed out on the side of the road after sustaining traumatic injuries that could have, would have, and quite frankly should have ended his life. A traumatic injury that gave him the scar he looked at the most. Habitually, he reeled his hand back to place against his right side abdomen, able to feel those thirty-nine staples like they were fresh all over again.

“Yes, of course, Taeyong. It won’t happen again,” he reiterated, his voice a bit weaker this time.

“Don’t butt hot heads with Johnny; as a favor to yourself and to your duchess,” Taeyong reminded, clapping a hand down on the younger boy’s shoulder as he referred to you by Jaehyun’s most-used petname for you.

Tightlipped, Jaehyun just nodded, letting the advice lead to a handful of scenarios play out in his head, weighing the consequences of being on the wrong side of Johnny Suh and what that might mean for you.

Even when Taeyong stepped away, having cooled off a little bit and leaving Jaehyun with what he would consider an entire escape from the potential wrath of the situation, the younger male still couldn’t help but press his hand tight against that scar, as if he was holding himself together all over again to the best of his abilities, almost feeling the warmth of his blood seep through his torn shirt and run across his hand. He could almost feel the sting, feel the dizziness, the absolute nausea at the thought of that being the end of his road.  Jaehyun tightened his jaw, meeting eyes with Yuta and then Johnny in the other room for only a moment before turning to blaze back to his room.

Speaking of his duchess, he was supposed to update you on a good time for the date he had planned. He finessed his phone from his pocket to construct a somewhat lengthy text about the plan to pick you up, to take the train into the city; he wouldn’t spoil all of the details to the trip, but he advised that you dressed casually. After finally proofreading his text more times than one could count on two hands and finally hitting send, he opted to shower to clear his mind of the situation that had just unfolded. It was already somewhat late into the evening, so he didn’t expect you to reply immediately if at all.

But you were always wide awake at that hour. It was late, but you were lounging in bed with the tableside lamp on scrolling on your phone when you received his text. It brought a tinge of a smile to your face, but it would be difficult to pick a good day for his lengthy plans. Your next day off from work was five days in the future; it would be the best you could give him. You replied to him with such information, reassuring him that you were excited to actually go out and do something with him during normal hours. When he had mentioned that he wanted to give you some sense of normalcy as the least he could do if you were going to stick by his side, it felt weird at first. Was there even a normal with Jaehyun? But meeting up in unfavorable circumstances in the early morning hours wasn’t the best.

You had to work in less than eight hours, so instead of waiting for Jaehyun to reply, you placed your phone on the charger and clicked your lamp off to cozy up under your covers and try your best to drift off to sleep.  Jaehyun, after receiving your message, did the same, continuing to attempt to get Taeyong’s words through his head about Johnny. The family is bigger than Johnny, bigger than you. He knew that meant that a spat between them was trivial at best, especially about this, in the grand scheme of things; but he’d be lying if he said Johnny’s blatant apathy to the situation didn’t boil his blood. As Yuta said, it wasn’t so simple, and although Jaehyun could have taken a different path, it wasn’t the one he took and it was, as discussed, far too late to turn back for a handful of reasons.

Still, after laying his head on his flat pillow, tugging his thin quilt over his body, reminiscing of the comfort of your pull-out couch and how luxurious it felt by comparison, John’s rough attitude about himself and you continued to pick at his every nerve. He could only hope that Taeyong gave Johnny a similar talk, that it wasn’t about him, or about Jaehyun, but it was about the unit, about the family, and that any beef he had with Jaehyun was negligible compared to the struggles they’ve had to face in the past, the struggles that kept them together and alive. And only that provided him enough solace to finally fall asleep.

[aesthyuckic]

AVENOIR | l.dh - VIGINTI QUINQUE (FINALE)

(gif not mine - credit to rightful owner)

Genre: High School AU (at beginning) ; Tarot Reader!Witch!Hyuck

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: (bold if in use) slow but with a purpose, belief contradictions, mentions of r*pe, blood, swearing, violence, mentions of abuse

Pairings: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader (F)

V OF PENTACLES IN REVERSE: recovery, isolation

It was late at night when Johnny had heard a pounding on his door that had woken him up. Rather pissed off, he got up to go answer it, ready to yell at whoever until he saw them. Cosimia and Donghyuck standing there, both of them covered in blood with looks on their faces like lost children that had done something wrong.

“What did you do?” The oldest asked the both of them with widen eyes

In a rush, they had brought him to their trailer where a dead body in a pool of blood still lied on their floor. Random spots of red stained their carpet as well. The man had stood in utter disbelief at the sight in front of him especially with the two kids who had been involved.

“How could you kill someone?” Johnny asked, annoyed rather than concerned.

“It was self dense…” The girl replied. “He literally tried to kill Haechan and kidnap me.”

“It’s her father,” The boy added in a rather hushed tone as he stared blankly elsewhere. “Was her father now I guess…”

“Your father? How did he find you two? I thought you faked your deaths.”

“We did. I guess I was dumb enough to think he’d believe it. You’re surprisingly calm about us having a dead man on our floor.”

“There’s no point in freaking out when it gets us no where.”

There was a pause for silence as they looked at the literally crime scene in front of them. Though, Donghyuck was somewhere else still processing and thinking about what had happened.

“What do we do, Johnny?” The young boy asked, finally looking away from where he was staring just to turn his attention to the other with a scared look of hopelessness. “Do we call the police?”

“No,” He said. “That’d be too much time on our hands and too much money I don’t want to spend on fixing it.”

“But…” The boy started. “Why can’t we?”

“Really, Haechan? Why can’t we? Would you like to go to jail? Because I don’t know what happened exactly if this doesn’t exactly look very good when it comes to a self dense claim. Oh, and especially since it’s obviously you bashed his head in multiple times and he’s been lying here for awhile since he’s cold!”

“Johnny!” Cosimia yelled.

It had become quiet enough that they could hear little sniffs and cries. The eldest looked over to where Donghyuck leaned against the chair to see the boy had tears coming down his cheeks as he bit his lip trying to hold back any noise.

“God, look at what you did.” The girl huffed. “Outside, now!”

The man seemed taken back by her words and tone, “Excuse me, I’m your boss and I’m seven years older than you.”

“I said outside now!” She repeated herself, just much louder this time as well as angry.

The room had gotten quiet once again as he rolled his eyes and just did what the girl said by going outside. She went over to her boyfriend just to whisper a few sweet things to calm him down before kissing his forehead, gently. She then followed behind the eldest shortly, leaving him inside. The screen slammed behind her, making the anger apparent at the other.

“If you’re not going to help us, you can leave. I’ll figure it out on my own.” She sighed. “I don’t get why you had to do that to him…”

“Do what?” He pondered. “I answered his question.”

“Yeah, in a mean and unnecessary way when he’s not in a good state of mind!” She retorted. “You really don’t know what he’s been going through in the last hour… and Hyuck wouldn’t kill anyone, he didn’t kill anyone.”

“So what? Your dad just slipped and hit his head on your counter multiple times?”

“You know how he’s been seeing ghosts since he woke up from his coma? The first one he saw was my mom. You want to know who killed my father? It was her, she just used Hyuck as a way to do it. That’s why he has no scratches or anything even though he got stabbed by him! He feels bad enough as is, it’s not his fault and it’s not mine either. So help us or leave so I can figure it out and take care of Hyuck properly. The reason we even went to you is because we thought you’d be helpful and not do something like this…”

“That wouldn’t sound very good either in the eyes of a court.”

“No shit.”

It got rather cold that evening, everything about the atmosphere was heavy and gloom. The tall man stared at the teenager in front of him. Clothes still covered in blood, with her arms crossed as she seemed to think about the situation. Johnny sighed as he’d just seen a kid taking on more than she should at her age at the attempt of keeping her and her boyfriend together.

“Come on.” He said before going back inside. “I’ll help you guys.”

“You will?” Donghyuck heard as he came in.

“Yes…” He nodded. “I’ll take care of the body. Just clean the floors and take a shower after. We’ll figure things out from there I guess.”

Johnny wrapped a plastic bag around the body’s head, duct taping it shut so the blood pooled into the bag rather on the floor anymore. He had Cosimia help him drag the body right outside the trailer before he took over and told her to go help Haechan clean the floors. She seemed oddly desensitized to it, though the man understood why she would after learning about the past she shared with the person that was now just a body. The boy was inside putting blood soaked sponges and white towels turned red into a bucket.

At first, he was cleaning up without a thought as it was just automatic but the more he stared at the blood the more he thought about. He still blamed himself for the predicament they were in, even if he hadn’t had control of his body he was the one that killed him. Seeing it again just made him feel utterly guilty. It haunted his mind as he now just sat on the floor, staring at the yellow gloves that were messy and stained red.

Cosimia walked in to see him in a trance. She sighed out of worry. She bent down, quietly next to him. She made eye contact with him before she took the gloves off his hands. To the boy, it was almost terrifying to see how emotionless she seemed about it all, not even phased by the blood even if the sight of it made her pale.

“Go shower.” She mumbled. “But your clothes in a bag though.”

“I should help you...” He said.

“I can do it on my own, Hyuck.” She assured him. “You need it so, go.”

The boy nodded and did as he was told, all in silence. She hurried to finish cleaning up the puddles left on the floor before she scrubbed the kitchen floor spotless to get the tint out of it. It sparkled and the yellow shade on the other side was suspicious in all honesty. She moved on to the carpet after that, her boyfriend still in the shower. She scrubbed deep into the carpet as much as hard as she could. Again, the color difference made things feel off.

She sighed, sweating from how much ‘elbow grease’ she had to put into both floors all on her own. She was already just mentally done with the night. Donghyuck had come from the bedroom, freshly showered and with new, clean clothes on. A wrinkled plastic bag all tied up in his hand with his previous outfit in it. He saw the girl bent over the floor just breathing heavy with her eyes closed.

“Uhh…” He hesitated. “I’m done…”

She looked up at him at the sound of his voice. “Okay, just put the bag outside.”

“It looks good…” He said, awkwardly as he walked through the kitchen, noticing she had finished already.

“Thank you.”

“Cosi, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but you missed a spot…”

“What?”

She walked over to see what spot he was talking about. She apparently had forgotten about the ledge of the counter. The metal strip was a golden color, now mixed with a wine color. The boy was taken back at the sight, his breath hitched in his throat as he remembered his vague vision from the night of summer solstice that all made sense to him now. He caught himself in a trance again.

“Are you okay?” The girl asked him.

“As good as I can be right now.” He shrugged before he went outside.

It felt cold, she knew he was still process and everything but he was being avoidant especially with her which hurt almost even if she got it. It was an awkward situation, how exactly are you suppose to act with someone after that? She didn’t blame him. She held back her own tears and emotions as she she dropped to the floor to scrub one more thing.

It seemed never ending, like it went on forever. Guilt was so overwhelming… If she hadn’t asked him to run away he wouldn’t have gotten hurt whatsoever or be here in this mess. She wanted to sob so badly, it was painful to hold back as she cleaned. She felt like he hated her even if that was far from the truth. And even though her father was the scum of the earth in her eyes, he was unfortunately still a human being, that happened to be related to her, who died in front of her. She wanted him dead for so long she didn’t know how to feel exactly. Maybe it was bad that she felt relief over it or that she didn’t really care about the fact he was dead and ‘murdered’ by what others would say. She felt as if he had it coming, that he deserved it after all he had put her through, put her boyfriend through. It would’ve been her’s and Donghyuck’s blood anyway if not his so was it that bad?

As much as she wanted to be about love and felt best when she was, it was hard to be when others filled you with so much rage and pain… She always had to be strong and especially so right now. She finished up the corner before she put the bucket outside and went back in to clean herself up. She wrapped her old clothes in a plastic bag, just like Donghyuck before she got into the shower. Her hair dripped with every step she took once she had gotten out.

Johnny had found them and told them to follow him with everything from the crime scene. The kids look at each other in confusion but did as they were told anyway. The place he had lead them to was far away from everyone and everything else. There, a bonfire resided that touch the dark night sky. Wood burned as they stopped in their tracks.

“Just throw it all in…” Their boss said as he stared at the fire that burned bright.

It was a sense of relief when they saw everything set ablaze and watched it turn into ash.

“Is that it?” Donghyuck asked.

“For you guys.” The other male shrugged. “I’m going to be out here for awhile. Go get some sleep and this night never happened.”

They nodded, both understanding and left with a small ‘thank you’ into the darkness. Nothing felt real at that point. It was eerie, even when they stepped back in the trailer they called home for the many months. It left a dreadful feeling, knowing and seeing what happen all over again. It’s like… a ghost of what happened lingered among them just to haunt them. It was just spooky in a way it never was.

To think the evening has started out so lovely… Who knew it could go to shit so fast and stay that way…

It was clear both of the teenagers were exhausted, though they couldn’t sleep no matter how much they tried.

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” The girl questioned.

“Huh?” He mumbled. “Who?”

“My mom.” She responded. “She’s gone, right?”

“Yeah… She thanked me before she disappeared.”

“I never got to say goodbye to her.”

“I’m sorry, Cosi.”

“She didn’t even say she loves me?”

“I think that goes without saying…”

“At least she’s in the summerlands now.”

Morning didn’t take long to arrive. The sunrise was a beautiful orange, yellow and pink ombré. They decided to go up on their roof to watch it since they were up and the inside was too suffocating for them. Donghyuck was once again the one to help Cosimia on the roof.

The sun started to peek more over the horizon more with every moment. The birds sang, cheerfully as everything around them glow a welcoming gold color. It seemed like the world really had no idea what had gone on or maybe it just proved life went on in many beautiful ways regardless of what horrible things took place in it.

Cosimia looked over to see her boyfriend looking off into the distance with no clue she was staring. He usually knew because he could feel it and he’d make some sly comment about it. She hurt because she had never seen him so quiet.

“Do you still love me?” She struggled to mutter out.

“What?” He was taken back by the question. “Of course I do! What would give you the idea I don’t?”

“Because,” She croaked. “It’s easy to say this is my fault… My father hurt you, my mother possessed you… If I didn’t ask you to come with me you would’ve never gotten hurt or gone through this. The question is how can you love me knowing that, really.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to say how glad I am that I came with you, honestly. I’ve learned many things because of you and I’ve become someone I’m happy to be because of you. I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for this adventure I’ve been able to share with you, Cosi. I know relationships and life in general have hard patches, but I do love you and I want to work through that and still be with you… I want to marry you one day.”

“You do…?”

She seemed shocked by the last part that had left his mouth. Truth be told, so was he. He should’ve learn to shut his mouth after he said ‘i love you’ the day when they started dating. Tears were streaming down the girl’s face which he reached over to wipe away.

“I do…” He smiled. “I hope that’s okay. I know we haven’t dated that long and we’re still very much kids and not ready for that yet… But I do hope to share the rest of my life with you.”

She started sobbing, “You really don’t hate or blame me for what happened?”

“You can’t control those things so of course not.” He reassured her. “I’m just happy to still be here with you right now and you especially, but we’re okay. Maybe not mentally, but physically. We can work on the mental part and get better.”

She laughed a bit through her tears. They boy pulled her over and kissed her forehead, gently this time, “I love you, okay? No matter what. We’ll get through this together even if it’s tough.”

She hugged him with a hum. It was nice to feel comfort for a moment after the stressful night they had been through.

“Should we leave?” She asked.

He breathed, “We’ve created our family here. Plus Johnny has done so much for us just in these last few hours… If you want to go, I’ll go. It’s up to you.”

“Maybe we should stay.” She hummed.

“We have all the time in the world to figure out what’s next for us.”

They intertwined their fingers, holding each other hands rather tightly. Cosimia leaned her head on the boy’s shoulder, feeling some tranquility now. The sun continued to rise in front of them…

T H E E N D.

[iknowicanbutwhy]

Well I love your bkdk Miraculous au and I want all the answers. What's the Love Square like?

Oh friend, buddy, pal, you're askin' a big question here that this entire AU is gonna revolve around and I just made this up two nights ago.

But I gotchu.

TLDR; Bakugou likes Midoriya, Midoriya is wary of Bakugou, Chat Noir is insecure around Bug, Bug really likes Chat Noir. These relationships evolve as time goes on.

so. This ENTIRE AU is secretly a REVERSE LOVE SQUARE AU.

cue evil laughter.

A'ight, in order for y'all to understand this, I need you to know that Bakugou actually acts like his prototype version at school, because he's heavily... encouraged by his parents to maintain a pleasant attitude, and it's something he's practiced since sometime after he stopped interacting with Mido as a kid. Helps make photo shoots go faster, keeps his reputation smooth, you know. You'd think he wouldn't care at all, right? I partially blame the fan mail; it can be really horrible (cough cough thinking of Social Media 101 on AO3)

You also need to know that Baku and Mido were childhood friends in this AU; Baku hasn't had real friends since he stopped interacting with Mido all those years ago, so Mido hasn't left his memories, and Mido has more or less moved on and actually forgotten Baku's name and face.

Mido remembers him as Kacchan, of course, and as the kid that was really mean but also really ironically charismatic, leader-like, talented, and with enough self assurance that Mido was almost jealous. For another kid his age, Baku was impressive.

So of course Mido would not recognize his Kacchan AT ALL through the pleasant, fake attitude and lack of stark crudeness. As a matter of fact, it kind of pisses Mido off just how dishonest Baku seems, and it changes the context of whatever helpful thing Baku says. Instead of seeing Baku as socially awkward and mean yet helpful, he sees Baku as manipulative and using his knowledge to make others feel dumb and make himself feel superior.

The one (1) thing that convinced tiny child Mido that Kacchan wasn't all that bad was that he knew Kacchan was always just. Honest. Honestly calling you a dumbass, honestly helping you be less of a dumbass. Baku of the current day seems dishonest and is definitely rude.

Baku, though, does remember Mido. And he likes this dude that doesn't take shit from his "pleasant" persona. Baku, like his prototype, does maintain the same sunny aura, but unlike his prototype, he tends to insult people on purpose. He tells them off for how shitty their homework is because - he very astutely and accurately presumes - they spend 8 hours every night wasting their life on games instead of studying for at least 2 standard hours. He says all that as politely as he can force himself, but he doesn't really realize that it comes out so much worse that way.

Whenever Mido recognizes this - and eventually he keeps a permanent eye out - he jumps in to amend Baku's statements to the person who's feelings had just been trashed. At first, he'd pull Baku aside and tell him how rude he's being. Then, Mido'd just glare Baku's way. Then, when Baku eventually admits his ineptitude in just trying to get some idiot to stop ruining their own grades, Mido tries to explain how important feelings are and how saying things in a certain way is hurtful. He can't explain it perfectly, though, because he's no social engineer and no therapist. It's a slow and frustrating process for both of them.

But Baku honestly appreciates it. HATES that he needs to to learn how to play nice all over again just to give people advice they should honestly be thankful for already, but appreciates the balls and willingness Mido has to actually do something instead of just sulking or sitting by when things go wrong.

He won't admit it, but it's nice reconnecting with an old friend who liked him when he didn't wear a mask, who probably maybe likes him now behind the mask because Mido hasn't called on any teachers yet or turned the class against him, even if Mido acts fed up as heck. He likes to tease Mido with tiny bits of knowledge he still has on Mido from when they were kids, like things Mido likes and fears. Though it's not always accurate, when it works he gets to see Mido all flustered. He's wondering how long it'll take the dumbass to remember him.

OH MAN AND THAT'S ONLY HALF THE LOVE SQUARE. The next segment is quicker, though.

Bug is reminded of his Kacchan when it comes to Chat Noir, who acts like himself in-costume. he defends Chat Noir vehemently whenever accusations of being another villain are thrown around, and is still pretty desensitized from Kacchan's brand of crudeness so much that he sees the good in Chat's actions.

Chat Noir is honestly incredibly pissed whenever Bug takes the lead and HATES that the ladybug and chat noir miraculouses are tied together like they are. He gets more and more angry when Bug defends him against the accusations being thrown around, but once he gets out of that delusion of his that Bug thinks he's better than Chat and that nobody can really like his asshole (true) persona, he starts to honestly appreciate it. For a while, he wondered if Bug only kept him around to keep an eye on him, like he really was a villain. It hurt more than he let on.

Beyond any of the drama, when they just get lost in each other, they get along pretty well. Patrols can be really fun and chill.