#out of all the foxes i thought their interactions would be the most difficult to write but they are popping off

[scarletfish]

I hurt my feelings while writing this daylight savings prompt by realizing that there is exactly one other person in the world who can understand the depth of Kevin's betrayal in TKM.

there is ONE other person on the team who knows what it's like to make a deal with Andrew, for whom deals are sacred, and watch him break it for the butcher's son.

that person is Aaron.

[drinkpisser]

MY HESITANT ALIEN FIC, HOW IT CAME TO BE CHAPTER 1 IS FINALLY DONE!!

(I thinkk!)

thank you to anyone who has been waiting, I really hope you enjoy! :D 🫶 it's been great to make

PREVIOUS CHAPTER (the prologue) :

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CHAPTER 1: THE BUREAU

Like he had mentioned, it was the average summer night, albeit slightly chilly. Gerard had not long settled into the summer camp similar to the other teens who had wandered the woods all day. Even so, he found it difficult to relate to them. His dyed black hair was short and shiny from the humidity of the car ride there, though the streaks of red gleamed nicely in the sun- his eyes were sunken, glued to a drawing pad or species of insect that he would clutch into his hands and inspect, and he found it detrimental to attempt mingling beyond his limited social battery level. He simply wasn't ready to engage in interaction with an unfamiliar face, and I'd say that's pretty understandable. He found it reasonable to head to his dorm early, briefly skittering past the other kids and finding comfort within the spring mattress of the bunkbed.

With a sigh, he pulls out a rented comic book he had stashed beneath his pillow. A classic Batman issue, to be precise. As his eyes fluttered from one panel to the other, they grew heavier and heavier- eventually, he had wandered into the land of dreams (with a cameo of laser beams and men in spandex) shockingly early, substituting his stuffed animal at home for a comic book.

Not too long later, murmurs and tiptaps of tired campgoers slid past Gerard's unconscious mind, leaving him in little less of a deep sleep. Goddamnit, he just couldn't get back to it after that. Tossing and turning, time passed slowly. Toss. Nevermind, turn. Toss again. Turn.

What's the use, he thought, before laying still in defeat. Unfortunately, a short while passes by, and Gerard's eyes are still straining shut, unrelaxed.

All of a sudden, a warm, unwarranted apricity fell upon his face. His eyes blink awake in confusion, squinting at the brightness of the mystery orb in the sky. Everyone is asleep. He sits up, with slight haste and panic- how is nobody concerned about this?

A polite whisper of "What the fuck is this?" leaves Gerard's mouth, what a strange prank to pull if it is one, he thought. Of course, like any other naive teenager would, he swiftly leaves the dorms to check it out.

Outside, it's extremely windy; Gerard wished he had brought his blanket with him- rather instead he retrieved a long, wooden stick he found rested against the doorframe (for self defense) like it'll do much against a giant mothership. His messy hair is now messier, the small fringe he once had brushing rapidly left to right in the breeze. As he cautiously strolled past the shelter of safety, he took a deep and dry swallow to build up the already dissolved courage within him. If you asked him, he'd say isn't scared at all, he's had traumatic nightmares worse than this. In other words, he'd be lying through his teeth. It's the middle of the night in a forest, the most intimidating concept ever for a young and vulnerable person. Every step impersonates a cracking eggshell, every blink or twitch of a muscle echoes like a gunshot. Crows flock in an alarmed state, frogs and rats huddle together under drip-tip leaves. Foxes flee in unison with the hedgehogs they were chasing.

Why on earth did he think this was a logical idea? It's a catastrophic idea- which means he's still going to go through with it. Determined, even with shakily numb legs. Thankfully, by now, the occurrence that woke him up is in full view so he can save himself the trouble. He ends up resting against a wooden fence, pausing, gazing in awe at what was above him.

Graphic gleams illuminate the dull night in all colours beyond imagination, sourced from an outstanding construction of metal balanced in the night sky. Almost akin to if they invented a portable northern lights kit that can be used anywhere, it spun slowly, as though it was scanning the strange organism that was staring upon it. The lights from the sides of the cockpit shut off without warning. Sliding doors beneath the ship clang open, sending small sparks flying into the stars.

Red.

It's all red. A red light, aimed directly at Gerard's exposed forehead. It warped the grass to a strange brunette, the buildings to a maroon and the fence he was leaning on to a crimson. An ambiguous voice within that colour told Gerard all he needed to know- run. Get the fuck out of there! The last thing he needed on any historical record of his was "kidnapped by a strange vehicle", and it's sure to be impossible to explain to his parents or the police, so he'd best act quickly!

That he did. Running as quick as his body could take him, wary of hazardous rocks and tree stumps that could screw him over. As predicted, the machine begun chasing. It didn't appear to be hostile- shooting or sending out traps that could catch him, it just.. chased. Gerard looks back, pathetically lunging the wooden stick at the fortified metal. The machine looks behind itself in confusion and unphased, leaving Gerard puzzled. Did it even know what was going on? Was it just playing copycat to toy with him?

Nonetheless, he continues to sprint more than he ever had planned to at this stay. Absolutely terrifying.

SPLASH!!

Brilliant, just great! He's gone and fell in a swampy puddle, grazing his knees on sharp ground. His hands sting, but he endures, forcing himself to ignore the hisses of agony as he gets back up. Limping like a champion, he struggles his way into a nearby porta potty. Not the most hygienic or convenient but this is a pretty rational situation to be complaining.

Once he was inside, he realised there isn't much at all he can do to improve his pain. He grabs the half used, thin toilet paper and wraps it around his wounds, begging his senses to blind him from the putrid smell of the enclosure he's settling in. Petrified of leaving, he crafts a makeshift blanket out of his comfort hoodie, placing his pins and badges to the side. Because he is wearing shorts, he resorts to a foetal position to successfully contain the warmth of the hoodie blanket, also creating a third useful tool of a gas mask with the hood itself. He looks ridiculous. He surely feels it. Yet exhaustion had hit him like a pile of bricks; he soon falls back to his state of slumber in here. In a summer camp bathroom. Wrong. It's worse than that, a porta potty with barely any space.  The interview from the prologue was right- you really couldn't make this shit up.

The next morning flows by perfectly. Birds sing a harmony, everyone is well rested. The ideal summers day, unless you're the nerd snoozing away in the trashy, unused camp toilet. The door is about to be unlocked by a relatively unhappy janitor who is definitely not paid enough for this... Dare I say, shit?

The door cracks open with a thud, hitting a filthy Gerard on the side.

"Oh, what, the door's jammed again?" The janitor complains before seeing the adolescent. His wrinkly eyes tweak, and he holds back several cuss words in surprise.

"Get up. Come on," he snaps, dragging Gerard out by the arm. Groaning, he shoves the cleaner away and composes himself.

"Look, I can explain- I was being chased by some spaceship! It was seriously a fuckin' mess. I'm covered in cuts from it- see?!" Gerard then shows him his battle scars from that mighty fall he took.

"Yeah, well, alcohol isn't allowed here. Being chased by aliens isn't a solid alibi either. Trust me, I tried it," The janitor snarls nonchalantly, sighing, "just get back to campus and clean up."

He shuts the porta potty door. Damn, he must be responsible for that tragic leftover shit-stench.

Gerard frowns. This, he did not consider. Going back to everyone- the people he'd barely even brushed past, without introducing himself the way he wanted. Now they're all going to know him for sure. Probably call him stupid names, humiliate him and such.

However, if it wasn't for who emerged next, he could have cried a river.

A chirpy, curious voice.

"Dude, I don't mean to embarrass you but did you get lost in the sewers?" the voice chuckles.

Letting out a small shriek, Gerard turns around.

An approachable looking young man stood before him, shuffling his feet with a sense of innate awkwardness. The boy was surprisingly tall for his age, and had the most wonderful curly locks of hair Gerard had ever seen. Somehow he knew by the shirt he was wearing that they'd hit it off straight away. Any sense of shame Gerard had dissipated, as the subject of music is one he exceeds in. Maybe this was his perfect chance to finally befriend somebody here!

"Holy shit," Gerard smiles, "The Smashing Pumpkins? I love their music, man."

"Ah, so we aren't gonna adress my question? Alright! Yeah, I listen to them a lot. I know a few songs on guitar too." He replies, impressed.

"My name is Ray. Weird circumstance, but you're pretty neat and... certainly interesting! Wanna be friends?"

Bingo, that was easy. Gerard almost exploded in excitement that his band tactic worked, but he resorted to a chilled nod and kick of a pebble.

"Yeah, sounds cool. Name's Gerard...

Uh, I would explain why I'm covered in mud and probably shit too but I don't wanna be accused of drinking by somebody I barely know again..." he mumbles.

"It's fine- I know a way we can get to the showers without passing anybody. Then I'm so down to hear all about this!" Ray chuckles ecstatically  before wandering off.

"I suppose i have no choice but to follow, or else my ass'll get kicked by that janitor." Reluctantly, Gerard trails behind his new buddy, sneaking past anything that looked like a person or member of staff (not to say they arent people or anything, they're just a hindrance at this certain moment in time).

"At least I can get a laugh outta this in a few years," he monologues to himself whilst hiding behind a tree.

Ray slowly turns, confused both as to whether he was being spoken to or not and the fact this douche is pretending to be a tree.

"Yeah.." He smiles, unable to conceal a short burst of laughter.

They continue on their miniature voyage, finally making it to the shower room unscathed. The two wave a slightly uncomfortable goodbye, and Ray takes a seat outside, twiddling his thumbs.

A short while later, Gerard walks out, thankfully no longer covered in mud. He smiles, greeting Ray once again.

"Thanks for waiting," he says, holding his clean hand out for a handshake. Ray, with the reassurance that there is no more mud, shakes it.

"No problem, you wanna head to camp? I'm pretty sure it's lunchtime."

"Sounds like a plan." Gerard adjusts the geeky pins on his hoodie, making his way to the benches.

At the benches, there sits a group of four. Gerard avoids direct contact with their faces at first, in the dire case that he's only there for a small punchline. Ray introduces them all, but the names don't stick. Nerves have struck Gerard's mind like a vigorous thunder, preventing him from paying his most full attention. Nodding does the trick, so he just went along with it. After sitting and shuffling, attention once again falls to Gerard through a demanding whisper in the ear.

"What happened to you, then?" Ray enquires.

"No judgement, alright? I can barely get my own head around it," Gee releases an intense sigh. It seemed to go quiet, or was it just his imagination?

"I was chased by strange figures in a giant ship looking thing. It was beautiful at first until I thought I was going to die. It seemed to be after me specifically, and I almost fell right into it's trap whilst everybody else was fast asleep."

Ray's expression dropped like an astounded cat. Maybe Gerard had forgotten to use his indoor voice due to the exterior surroundings of the forest, but the whole table had suddenly earwigged. Silence had truly struck this time. A brief calm before the storm, so to speak.

Laughter invades the air like poison in an airvent. The barricades of comfort were banished and giggles screeched like nails on a chalkboard. Shame for ever saying a single word ever dawned on Gerard with a pile of regret.

"This dude's nuts!" a preppy girl whines.

"Whatever he's on, I want it.." a curtain-banged boy adds.

"Why'd you bring this freak here?" some jerkwad adds.

"Hey now, come on- he's just got here! If it wasn't aliens, it was surely something." Ray defends, but it's futile.

Its settled. He's done for. Gerard's done for. He knows full well, ducking down in silence. Just like he had worried, it isn't working. He's alone at this place, and not in the preferred introverted way he'd wished.

He could die here alone.

He could die alone point blank.

That being recognised, he grabs his satchel teary-eyed and rushes off. Being accused of lying when all you speak is truth crucially damages your self assurance, your fragile confidence, your efficacy as a living, breathing person. Usually it wouldn't phase Gerard at all, but salt had definitely been rubbed into those vunerable wounds. I mean, without a doubt it's a phenomenal story to tell to a stranger. Chased by aliens and all that junk. Yet what a laughing stock he'd become in his vacant mind, weeping his heart out behind the main office he fled and hid behind.

He wanted to go home, back to his younger brother and cluttered bedroom. Back to the dainty hallway filled with shelves of vintage dolls and trinkets. Back to his drawing desk and flickering lamp. Day one and he was already through with it all. He'd rather not get out at all than suffer another minute pretending he's enjoying himself in the cruel wilderness.

Without warning, the overwhelming stream of thoughts cut off with that same chirpy voice, however this time it approached gently.

"Thank god I found you, really. I didn't mean for all that to happen-" he's soon interrupted the blinded humiliation of Gerard's anger.

"Screw that! It was your plan all along to put me in the social shit. You just wanted me to look decent whilst you did it! They clearly ain't impressed by you on your own so the nearest idiot you found made the cut! I get it! Rub it in some more." He scrapes words through tears so warm that they're steaming, almost not completely aware of what he's spewing.

Ray's pleading face grows in distress; it's true that the people he'd lingered with weren't the most welcoming of friends. He'd just happened to have met them during a group activity and thought they we're right for him. He was never in their group, he was just with their group. In that moment, he was willing to sacrifice them all for someone he'd not long met after seeing an unusual spark in his eyes that they didn't posess.  Aware of the room that needed to be read, he sits a fair distance from Gerard, quiet.

A few minutes pass by consisting of Gee huddled up within himself and Ray staring with guilt.

Forcing out his voice once more, Ray apologises.

"I've needed that lecture for a while, really. They're full of shit. I honestly just wanted to help you out- I thought they'd find you cool just like I did, you like similar stuff to them-" Ray rambles and trips on his words, desperate for an understanding response.

Fortunately, Gerard had calmed enough to not verbally vomit every thought in his brain this time.

"... I know," he reassures, "I just didn't wanna mess this up, yknow. The reason why I was brought here by my parents was so I could experience more things and a big part of that was a need to be liked," loathing away at himself, Ray listens and "mhms" until he can barely restrain his words any longer...

"I believe you."

"What?" Gerard's head perks up in disbelief.

"We don't need them to either, if more than one person believes then it's credible. Something in space is out there and you we're lucky enough to discover it, Gerard!" Ray forms a contagious smile as he speaks, erupting excitement as he does.

"I suppose.." a glum smirk passes Gerard's face, quickly turning to a grin. "Alright."

The two stand together and hug it out, walking back from the secluded area at the same pace, yapping all the time away whilst skipping day classes.

The afternoon quickly fades to the evening, the sunset tainting the busy perimeter with a sense of euphoria. All throughout that time, Gerard couldn't help but participate in small ventures of the camp activites with slight eagerness, collecting logs and sticks for the bonfire at the highest speed he could maneuver. As the fire erupted, he watched the flames dance with fascination. Being a self proclaimed pyromaniac and all, it helped him relax.

Even with a time of turmoil ahead, a deep puzzle within him had been solved, a message he needed to hear ever since the trainwreck of last night slammed its breaks.

That somebody believed in him.

[ end of chapter 1 ! ]

[yandere-wishes]

Okay so not an ask more of a Headcanon based on observation and the character he is based on, but I see Honest Fellow as someone who would both idolize/emulate and resent the rich. By his design his clothes, while they pay homage to Honest John with the patchwork pantleg and the misding pinky tip on his one glove seem very well-kempt, on top of that his hat and cane are practically emaculate that cane alone couldn't have been cheap though I wouldn't put it passed the sly fox man to have either swindled someone out of it or stole it from them outright. Point is I'm getting wants to be a rich man but hates the rich people vibes.

All of that is set-up for my headcanon that if he ever had a S/O you can bet he would get them jewelry and expensive clothes. Basically just adorn them in finery he had acquired through whatever means (cough, likely stolen or purchased with dirty money, cough) and proudly have them stand by his side. The thought to use them as a pretty little lure to catch even bigger fish might cross his mind, but I doubt he'd ever use them like that. Personally, I feel like he'd be to possessive to do that even if his darling wanted to help like that, after all what if he let's them go off alone and someone tries to take advantage of his poor darling? He doesn't think they're weak or foolish per say but who could protect them better than him? I think he'd have a difficult time even leaving them alone with Gidelle (only 90 percent sure I got that right), of course he trusts Gidelle, well as much as he can truly trust anyone anyway, but he's the brains of the outfit and unless he's personally by his darlings side he won't ever be truly assured something won't go wrong.

Let's say that darling isn't quite so understanding or compliant, his possessive side would certainly get worse. He can't leave them alone for one second qhat if they try and sneak off. Perhaps to save his pride he'd be a bit delusional, they're just a sweet little naive skittish thing that doesn't know any better, possibly they've never known a love as deep and unshakable as his, it's only natural there would be a learning curve for them and who better than he to teach them? I highly doubt he'd ever use physical punishments on his darling, probably doesnt like punishing them as he thinks they are just still learning, but that doesn't mean he won't find other ways to punish them if necessary. I do think if they actively tried to run he wouldn't waste a minute getting something along the lines of a necklace with a chain, something fashionable but functional as a reminder while they're learning, if that reminder isn't enough though he might go for a bejeweled pet collar and leash. If all else fails isolation in a secure location with him as their only source of human, or well beastman, contact would certainly allow them to see how much they needed each other. Whatever he has to do to make them understand it'll all be worth it later once they're settled and he can spoil them like they deserve.

TLDR: Honest Fellow would love to lavish his S/O in (possibly ill-gotten) finery and would actively and proudly show them off on his arm. Everyone can look and admire, but only he is allowed to touch.

This has got to be the most effort anyone has ever put into something they sent in my ask box!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

Okay so right off the bat let me say that YES!! This is canon I don't care what anyone says.

I can see him as "wanting what they have" but "not wanting to be them". Essentially he wants the ability to give his darling the best of everything. Yet still ultimately preserving his own "personality". Like you said Fellow hates the rich. They're insufferable, self-absorbed and loathsome, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't crave the glitz and glammer.

Now I can kinda see Fellow only really interacting with his darling at first to use her as bait. Winning her over with expensive gifts and pretty cloths (all from dirty money ofc) and sure darling does start to fall for his tricks. But here's the thing, the moment his darling begins to show the tinest interest in him Fellow FALLS HARDER!! All of a sudden he doesn't want ANYONE near his darling! Just him only him. Sooner or later his darling will start to feel suffocated, she'll be desperate to get away from him. Forsaking the pretty presents and charming "boyfriend" for just a moment of freedom. But Fellow's a sly fox, always one step ahead. He knows how to ensnare his darling before she's even run away.

Overall Fellow will lavish you, treat you like a queen, getting you anything you desire (through underhanded means) but you'll never be allowed to leave him. Forever trapped by his side on the island of pleasure…

Quick question is Fellow meant to be the same age as the third years or is he older??

[2309analysis]

What do you think would happen if Tails Sails Mangey and Nine all interacted with each other?

See, I was thinking about this all week. Mainly due to my theory, and just the pure nature of Tails’ the Fox. His character remotely resembles a child; in both psychological, and emotional aspects. While he is physically a child, his brain and maturity level is not. Its far exceeds the average intellect and ability to comprehend. Making Tails’ far more complex than most people realize. So, I’m basically going to explain how he would really only be on his wavelength. Literally all will but the communication will be tad different with each counterpart of Tails’.

Starting with Nine:

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Tails’:

To me, he’ll be the easiest communication-wise. I think the two Foxes’ would be wary of each other; mainly due to Nine’s hard drive on not being compatible with Tails’s personality and his viewpoint of the world. Nine wouldn’t really want to get into Tails’s character, or really understand his tinkering. While, he has similar habits, and thought-process, I honestly think his openness and willingness/over-friendliness would honestly frighten Nine.

Moving onto the actual interaction between the two. I honestly think Tails’ just be nervous, Nine’s got a pretty judgmental attitude and defensive personality. Making it very hard to really understand his thoughts, which Tails’ usually doesn’t have problems with. ‘Cause everyone in his head is statutory, but himself? With another version of himself? Oh, boy, where does he even begin? He’d be the first initiator, due to anxiety eating him up. “Um… so, you’re supposed to be a counterpart of me? Heh, well, you do look a lot like me—“ “Just stop talking.” Nine would quickly shut him down at first. Mainly due, to the frustration of Sonic forcing them to do this.

“Err… do you at least want something to eat?” Nine just slowly turns his head, and looks Tails’ deadbeat in the eyes. “Nah, I’m good with this bark of wood. Thanks for asking.” I think Nine has a sarcastic defense mechanism around others’, (Sonic’s circumstances are diffrent) especially over people who try to know him. Which is hard for anime, it’s extremely out of his comfort zone; he doesn’t like interactions. Knowing this, he’s especially reluctant towards Tails’.

I think Tails’ will catch onto this extremely quickly; and back off. For a couple of weeks, it’s awkward, and very difficult to really know how the two feel about each other. Nine does soften up once he starts to catch Tails’ mind explore and invent endless amount of things in his meantime. I think this is where Nine is the first initiator. To Nine’s surprise, they get along well, especially when it comes to analyzing; making Sonic pretty relieved. 

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Sails’:

Honestly, I would think they’d kinda ignore each other. Both well-aware and about how the other feels about each other, making it kinda hard for them to open up. Awkward, and tense when around each other. I’m talking about, a what if, this was all happening after the events of Prime. It’d still be this way, due to Nine’s lack of social awareness.

I still think Sails’ give Nine a chance. Like actively trying to hang out with him, ask him some small questions on how he invests or makes things. Small little interactions, at first, but I honestly don’t think they’ll become nearly as close as Nine and Tails’. Which isn’t much of a bummer, because Saul’s’ prefers other characters, like Amy, Tails’ himself, Sonic, and his captain, Dread.

They’d team up with each other, and fight alongside each other if they had to. They won’t be their first choice; but a reliable duo. They would trust each other with weapon-making, and temporary cooperations. Extra points, if they wink at each other to take initiatives, and smile about winning.

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Mangey:

The poor Foxes would never have a coherent conversation. Genuinely would not know how to interact with each other. Mangey is too savage and nervous to ever really properly calm down and actually sit with Nine. Nine’s too way and paranoid something bad is going to happen if they tried forcing him. The two are too mentally unstable to be able to handle each other’s emotions.

It’s like asking a baby to walk without falling. It’s a lot of trail and error. It’d take at least a month or two or them to even be on the same emotional wavelength. Mangey’s broken English and bad sense of social order makes Nine extremely uncomfortable. They try not to get angry or overwhelmed by each other; because they both understand that the other is trying. (Keeping in mind about the after events)

“M-me like y-ou.” “Huh… you’re improving. That’s excellent.” They will warm up with each other over communicating and improving speeches. Nine would basically become Mangey’s language arts teacher. Teaching him all the basics about talking, writing, and reading. Sonic will help by holding up pictures of simple things.

Next is Sails’:

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Tails’:

He’s by far, going to be the most mentally stable and simple out of the three counterparts. Easily, because he’s pretty much mostly like Tails’ himself. Making things communication-wise a whole lot less stressful for Tails’. The only downside is the pirate talk. Tails’ might hinder with the new communication system; making it slightly harder for him to properly respond. Which won’t be much a of a problem, as it quickly gets solved, because Tails’ easily adapts.

Also, I think Tails’ would find it super interesting and unique. Making them probably the fastest to become friends. They’re buddies, they’re improving each other’s inventions, making sure the other isn’t lost. They’re practically brothers. They’d both keep each other company and joke around a lot. Making Dread kinda annoyed, because most jokes are inside jokes about highly complex things.

They’d keep each other’s back covered, if they would ever get into a fight. They would never abandon each other, and make sure they’re both are safe. They’d boost each other up and uplift themselves. Alongside of double teaming with Sonic and Nine! They’re unbeatable. Tails’ would also dork out about his helper hand. Finding it effective and extremely cool. Tails’ now has one he can use! Occasionally, though.

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Mangey:

Honestly, same way as Tails’. It’d basically be like having a kid brother. Sails’ already took care on Mangey in season 3, but more normalized. Sails’ keeps Mangey out of trouble, and calms down his nerves. I would feel like Sails’ honestly follows Mangey around out of curiosity about his behaviorism. Constantly noting it, and the improvements, habits, etc.

Tails’ would definitely join in. Not making a habit of it, like Sails, would, though. It’s merely out of keeping him protected and innocent. As in, he’s never, ever, stepping foot inside Eggman’s factory or laboratory. Not unless it was extremely important, and Mangey’s friends were in danger. Also, it’d feel like belittlement after a while, and if Mangey showed enough attention-improvement, he could be sent on special missions.

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Nine:

I think he’d be pretty indifferent about Sails’. Like Tails’. Like I said, it’d take a large while for them to warm up with each other. It’s not they actually don’t like each other; but they’re a tad suspicious of each other. Both tensed, awkward socially distant foxes. Nice combo… but Sonic turned things around telling them both to just take it slow.

They’re the slowest and subtler find than all of the other three. They just don’t notice each other, and it’s not a bad thing; but they have less appeal towards each other. They will work together, and share mostly the same opinions; and make sure that the other is okay, but that’s all.

Next is Mangey:

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Tails’:

Tails’ would give him a lot of snacks. Plus, a bunch of stolen Chili Dogs from Sonic. The two would be usually spotted eating and going over simplistic ways to teach Mangey real communication with Nine. Both Nine and Tails’ would take turns with Mangey helping his improvement of social and personal development.

Sails’ helps with the emotional department, making sure he doesn’t get too overwhelmed. Tails’ acts like character for Mangey to see scenarios of conversations and situations. I feel like Mangey is a visual learner, so it’s ultimately easier for him to comprehend after seeing what happens. That also includes spying on others’, but mainly Sonic, and their friends.

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Nine:

He would leave Mangey alone at first. Kinda steering clear, because he doesn’t really like unwanted attention or company. Knowing Mangey would give so much of that, he tries to keep off of his track, and kinda cower away. Not to be offensive; but because he’s not entirely used to having friends.

Not until he decided to give him the opportunity to grow. Once Mangey starts to show signs of large improvement of social skills, emotional maturity and development, Nine doesn’t entirely mind when he’s around. Since, by this point, Mangey sees Nine as a bigger brother.

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Sails’:

He would voluntarily help Nine and Tails’ out making improvements with Mangey’s abilities and growth. Especially with the language and emotional support. Making sure that Mangey doesn’t get too overwhelmed by anything; he’ll also be the supplier of treats.

He would also help Nine come up with a series of quizzes for Mangey. Making sure all of the studying is actually sticking with him. Nine would create the question, Sails’ would make the answer. Tails’ help out giving small hints, and Mangey would get a treat if he doesn’t need any hints. He would get a whole snack, if he gets a 100 for the quiz.

Next is Tails’:

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Nine:

The two would be awkward at first, but the more they found in common about each other’s habits, they became more comfortable around each other. I think Nine would be emotionally tired, and deprived of any sort of intimacy with love; and Tails’ deeply understood this. Instead of Sonic being Nine’s only friend and well, savior, Tails’ basically became his newest friend.

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Mangey:

As I have said this over and over again, (lmao) Nine would advise, commit to Mangey’s growth. Finding some joy out of seeing his counterpart grow, and improving. It makes him feel like he means something more rather than something of nothing. Tails’ sorta feels the same way; and it makes them more comfortable and less anxious around Mangey. Mainly due to the wavy their shatter verses are; it’s hard for all four of them to collectively get along at the same time.

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Sails’:

They would love each other. From intelligence to little quirks about certain things. Tails’ would indefinitely make little gadgets for all four; but mainly Sails’. They would have the most in common with each other. They’re little collaborations with each other to make each other’s lives in their own verses easier. Especially for Nine. Like, face-timing each other, occasionally, send each other a bunch of letters.

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

I’ll whiff up headcanons later over them. They’re such a cute couple of interactions; but I wouldn’t mind adding some angst to it next time. Those will most likely appear in a few headcanons. Thanks for this question; it was really fun writing this out, especially individually! (I love making myself suffer)

This is them.

[coolcattime]

Home and Free: Chapter Ten - If I Can't Love Her

Characters: Captain Capsize, Sonja Firefox, Skipper Redbeard, Jordan Captainsparklez, Tucker Jericho, Tom Syndicate, Martha the Mystic, Mot Screziato, Alyssa Countybat, Waglington, Farmer Steve, Prince Andor, Jeriah, Lady Ianite (mentioned)

Relationship: Captain Capsize/Sonja Firefox, Captain Capsize/Jordan Captainsparklez (onesided)

AO3 Link

Full Story Tag

It took three days for the moment to arrive, for Capsize to be sure that Fox had left the West Wing. She’d been tempted to explore it at certain moments before, when she had thought she’d heard footsteps retreating to different parts of the castle, but she had never been completely sure before this moment that the West Wing was actually empty. She’d seen her through a window, retreating off somewhere into the castle’s grounds, and that meant her opportunity had finally come. She was going to find out what secrets were being kept from her. She just needed to get in and out quietly, a task that seemed like it was going to be much more difficult than she anticipated as Tom had decided to follow her.

“I’m telling you, there’s nothing interesting up there,” He said as he hopped after her as she got ever closer to the West Wing. He’d honestly hoped she’d forgotten about it, or just decided it wasn’t worth her time, as she hadn’t mentioned the place since her first night, but obviously that had been optimistic. What had he been thinking? No one was going to forget a mysterious, forbidden wing of a magical castle. He needed to distract her, and he needed to do so quickly, but he’d already shown her the most interesting parts of the castle. All the obviously magical stuff was in the West Wing, so he couldn’t suggest any of that. But he needed something that would actually impress her, rather than making him seem like he was just trying to distract her. After all, he liked her, he didn’t want to seem like he was taking the Beast’s side over hers, but he needed to keep her out of trouble. How on earth was he meant to do that?

“Well, if there’s nothing interesting then I won’t be in there for very long,” She said, having thought over that point over quite a bit over the past few days. If there was truly nothing interesting, then she wouldn’t spend more time than required to just give the rooms a quick once over. Of course, she knew there must be something up there. No one would forbid entry to a place for no reason, especially not after staying the whole place is free reign. And perhaps it was just what Martha had said that it was Fox’s living quarters, and she wanted her privacy, but she didn’t understand why that wouldn’t have just been said rather than the harsh yelling. Well, she supposed it wouldn’t be out of character for the Beast to just be aggressive for no reason, but still she wanted to see the place for herself. She just hoped that Tom would be quiet if he continued to follow her, or that he wouldn’t tell anyone where she’d gone if he didn’t.

“I just don’t think it’s worth trekking through all the dust,” He said, kind of shrugging but not quite having the ability to do so in his current form. Despite his best attempt to sound convincing, Capsize lightly shook her head. She wasn’t going to be dissuaded by anything. She wasn’t even put off by the possible danger at this point. She could see the West Wing now, which was worryingly close for Tom as he was very quickly running out of time to move her attention and person elsewhere. He racked his brain as he hopped after her. There had to be something – anything – that would be more interesting to her than a secret forbidden area. Why was his life so hard? “Why don’t we go look around the gardens or… the gallery or…”

He desperately tried to think of anything that would draw her attention as she was steps away from entering the West Wing. He’d interacted with her enough over the past few days to get a basic grasp on her interests, though it was hard to actually think when she was seconds away from trouble. However, something did spring to mind, he just hoped that it’ll be good enough.

“What about the library?” He asked, genuinely unsure if she was even listening at this point. Capsize paused. She turned.

“There’s a library?” She asked, thoroughly distracted as her thoughts almost completely shifted. Books had been her lifeline for so long, something she had found joy in even when she’d felt at her worst. The idea of there being more here than the one she’d brought with her was more than intriguing. Her right leg bounced a little as she thought about it, about the sort of library this place could have, and Tom smiled. Honestly it took him a lot for him to not sigh in relief that he’d managed to distract her, but he was pretty sure that’d give the game away. And Martha said he never listened to anyone.

“Yes! A giant library stuffed to the brim with books! Any book you can think of, it’s probably in there! Come on I’ll show you!” He said, a little too loud though he was certainly enthusiastic. He gestured for her to follow him before hopping off down the hall.

And Capsize almost did follow him. She almost left behind the mysterious forbidden West Wing. She could so easily follow him, her cane was half off the floor, but she hesitated. She could see the library anytime, but she had no idea when her next opportunity to enter the West Wing would be, especially when right now she could enter completely alone. No matter how much she wanted to see the library, she couldn’t give up her current chance to explore.

Mentally apologising to Tom, she turned back around and began to walk into the darkened wing. There was not an immediate change in atmosphere, though she guessed such a thing wasn’t something that happened in real life. Though she did always have the lingering sense of unease whether she was alone in the castle. A feeling that she had no idea if she should attribute to the very real possibility of running into Fox or just the fact that she felt the same sense of not belonging she had felt even prior to being stuck in this place. Though it was not the trapping feeling of unease that she felt as she entered the West Wing. Rather she felt the sort of curiosity that made her chest feel light and caused a small smile on her face despite the weariness she still had. She knew she had to be careful. Even if she’d seen Fox outside, she could so easily return at any point, and the last thing she wanted was to be caught in a place that she had been directly told not to go to. Mostly though she felt her heart beating, as there was an undeniable excitement to be properly exploring someplace new.

The further she walked, the more obvious it became that this was where Fox spent most of her time. While the castle as a whole had been in a state of abandonment, none of it had seemed any worse for wear. It was just that it seemed unlived in and had a sense of coldness. The corridor she was currently exploring, however, looked far more how she had expected the castle to look from the state of the grounds. The walls and floor were covered with claw marks, and most of the furniture looked at the very least splintered if not completely broken. The floor was covered with shreds of fabrics and, most notably, shards of shattered mirrors. Several frames on the walls had broken shards left in the frames, the rest of the glass on the floor. Most of it had been pushed to the side out of the way of, but some still crunched under her foot and others she brushed away with her cane. It was a mess, more so than any part of the castle she had been to thus far, and perhaps she should just a little scared by that fact, but her eyes couldn’t stop searching around for anything hidden from her.

While the rooms were in disrepair, they weren’t abandoned. They felt lived in. A lot of the damage looked old, but it was something real done by someone alive. And there wasn’t just damage. Well, she supposed it was technically still damage, but among the claw marks that looked like the typical kind made by an animal lashing out or just scratching in general, there were carvings that looked like magical runes. Some were on their own, some were carved in long strings, but they all looked like they had been scratched into the wall with some desperation. She ran her hand across one of them, it flickered a little, glowing with magic, but the glow died away after mere seconds. What were they meant to do? They must’ve been for something important as despite the rough carvings the lines were clear and distinct, and they were carved with such desperation.

Further down the hall she walked, and the damage to her surroundings only grew worse. It was also getting darker as night was drawing in, and she’d left herself without a light source. It was still light enough to see, but details were certainly getting lost in shadows. She ran her hand along more of the runes to light up the corridor just a little more. The dim light didn’t bother her too much, but she did manage to scare herself when a pair of eyes came into view, mildly chastising herself when she realised that she’d jumped at a portrait. Though, oddly, the realisation of the eyes being painted didn’t stop her from staring at them. Why did they seem familiar?

She approached the ripped-up painting, attempting to figure out where she could’ve seen the eyes before. She didn’t have any clues from the image as it had been torn and clawed apart, with the eyes the only part intact of the subject’s face. They were a bright green, which contrasted with how bored they looked, though she supposed that was likely down to the painter more than the subject. Did she know anyone with green eyes? One of Red’s eyes was green, but this obviously wasn’t a portrait of him. She placed her hand on the portrait, lifting one of the tears of hanging off canvas to reveal a little more of the face. A woman. A pretty woman yes, but definitely not one that she recognised. Except she still couldn’t stop looking at the eyes. Maybe it was just the way that they were painted, but they looked almost like—

“Capsize…!”

“Ia--!” She whipped around at the sudden whisper that was so close she was sure had felt breath on her ear. That voice, the one she hadn’t heard in months, had been right next to her. But no one was there. Of course no one was there. Why would she be? Yet in the direction she'd turned, there was a door slightly ajar. From beyond it there was a pink glow. So, there was something here. With a small smile forming on her face, she walked towards the room.

🌹 🌹 🌹

The Beast slogged through the halls back towards her room, less than entertained by the snuff box following her. Was there something wrong with her wanting to be left alone? It had never been a problem before, especially not since the curse began, but apparently the woman being here meant she needed to be social or a good host or something. He was acting like her making appearances would help matters rather than hurt them.

“I’m not going to see her. She wants to be left alone, so I’m leaving her alone,” She said in an annoyed tone that came across harsher than she intended as she growled. She didn’t miss his exhausted look that only annoyed her more. She got it, this woman was their chance to break the curse, but the disaster that had been trying to have dinner had made it beyond clear that that wasn’t going to happen. She was rude and stubborn, she was a follower of the goddess that had cursed them all, and she… she was too good for her. No one was going to fall in love with her while she looked like this, let alone someone who had so selflessly given up her freedom for someone else’s sake. So, what was the point in even trying? For his part, Mot hadn’t wished to smoke so much in years.

“She doesn’t want to be alone. She’s been hanging around with Tom non-stop and frankly seems happy with any company she can get,” He said, voice gruff but he was still trying to be gentle. He’d seen Capsize a few times over the past few days, most of the time with Tom seeming far happier than she had on that first night, but he’d also seen her alone. She still seemed uncomfortable when she wasn’t with someone, a feeling he had to admit was reasonable. He knew it was likely due to the Beast’s presence in the castle rather than her absence, but still. Still, her not wanting to interact with her wasn’t going to change if the two just kept avoiding each other. And, even if she really didn’t want to, it was very much on the Beast to make the first move, not the woman. Sure, them not interacting was technically better than them yelling at each other, but not in terms of getting the curse broken.

“Good, I’m glad that she’s making herself at home,” She said, trying not to sound frustrated that other people had been able to interact with her. She wasn’t frustrated, she definitely wasn’t jealous that she’d seen through the mirror her being delighted in the company of Tom. She’d been mopping over the past few days, stuck lingering in the feelings of incompetence she felt. She wanted to interact with her, to get to know her in the way that seemed so easy for Tom, but she was also completely sure that it just wasn’t going to happen. She’d never really had friends, let alone anything more, how was she meant to create such a bond now? “It’s just easier this way. If I avoid her then she’ll actually be happy. She’s never going to like me.”

“Don’t talk like that. She’s not going to be ordered into anything, but if you just talk with her, you might find something you both connect with,” He said, hoping she would listen to him. He had no idea of the chance he actually had of getting through to her. She had listened to him once, back when she was a kid, but he supposed back then she had had little choice. He wasn’t her parent, but he’d very much been left in charge of raising her. So maybe he should’ve pushed harder when she first started not to listen, but he’d written it off as her just growing up until it was far too late to try and fix the attitude she’d developed. If he’d tried to push at that point he’d have been out of a job. Ironically despite how he’d been quite desperate to avoid that probably would’ve worked out with him less cursed in the long run. But as long as he was still very much stuck in this mess, he was going to try and fix the part of it he’d created, for the sake of making sure the curse got broken if nothing else. “She’s lonely. She’d probably appreciate another friend.”

“There’s no way she’ll want to be friends with me, and even if she did, just being friends isn’t enough anyway, is it? I should just let her be,” She wished that she hadn’t let her remain in the castle. Not that she wished she had kept the man instead, just that didn’t want to run into the woman who she knew had more than good enough a reason to dislike her. Yet she also couldn’t bring herself to let her go. As much as she already felt defeated by the curse, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of her one single chance to break it. Was that wrong of her? Was it wrong to want to cling to the chance of being human again even if she doubted that such a reality would come to pass? To want to fix the mistake that got everyone around her punished and doomed alongside her? She needed to fall in love, to make the woman love her, but… but it was cruel. The woman didn’t want to see her, it was cruel to force her. “I… I just want to be alone, Mot.”

“I can’t force you to interact with her, but you have to know that it won’t get any easier if you don’t. I know you want to talk to her, so you should try,” He said softly. She looked at him, a small box that bore absolutely no resemblance to a person anymore. A box literally marked with her crest as if to mock the way she’d treated him leading up to the curse. Yet despite everything, she could still see him like he was staring back with his actual face. An ever-tired face that she never managed to stop disappointing. She looked away from him.

“Okay, I’ll try,” She said weakly before trudging off towards the West Wing to continue hiding from the world, wanting more than anything to just disappear forever. Both of them knew she didn’t truly mean her words. Mot looked on as she disappeared from view and just sighed. He knew he couldn’t force the two to interact, that such a thing would be as futile as it would likely be harmful in the long run, but that didn’t make it any easier to see the situation so close to a possible solution but so completely and utterly far from it actually being fixed.

He hopped off, hoping to see if he could find Tom and Capsize. As much as he didn’t want to put the first move on her, he thought he had a chance of persuading her to talk to the Beast. Maybe if she did, the Beast would see how much the two had in common, she might actually open up to her. It was worth a shot at least.

He would realise when he arrived in the library to find a very panicked Tom completely alone where Capsize was, and that another encounter was going to happen between the two. All he could hope was that it wouldn’t be nearly as much as a disaster as he was imagining.

🌹 🌹 🌹

The oddly glowing room made Capsize’s eyes light up as she found herself in what looked like an old study or workshop with odd trinkets, tools, and tomes covering nearly every usable surface. Research no longer seemed to be the actual use of the room, as the majority of the surfaces had at least a thin layer of dust. In the corner was a large mess of fabrics that seemed almost like a nest, and she assumed it likely was. This was very likely Fox’s den, the place she’d return to once she was done outside, but while that knowledge made her cautious, it couldn’t dull the curiosity within her. The room was so full of trinkets, like the ones she’d restore and repair, all just gathering dust.

As she wandered inside, she picked up the first item she could reach. A small snow globe. It reacted to her touch, a smile growing on her face as she saw the effect of the scene inside coming to life. It was simple, a tiny snowman moving around a forest as snow rained from the top of the globe. Maybe it shouldn’t give her such delight. After all this place was full of talking trinkets with full personalities. Whatever magic had brought them to life was clearly more impressive than whatever was powering the snow globe, but she could so clearly see the work put into the piece she was holding. The stand was absolutely covered by carved runes, all glowing at her touch, that were clearly controlling the movement and the snow. The scene on the inside might not be insanely detailed, but it was handcrafted, and still she could tell the effort put in. So much effort was put in and now it was just gathering dust… and it seemed the whole room was filled with similar items.

It baffled her. Why had Fox wanted to keep this place hidden from her? Sure, it was clearly in disrepair and felt a lot more like the home of a beast than the rest of the castle, but these trinkets were beautiful. She couldn’t imagine wanting to hide such things away. And there was still the glow. In her distraction of the number of items in the room, she had almost written it off as just an unusual light source. But now her eyes actually focused on the source, and she almost laughed.

In the middle of the room on a table, or rather flowing slightly above a table, was a glowing rose. Of course, she’d been led in here by a rose. Was the flower never going to stop showing up as if to tease her? Though obviously this wasn’t an ordinary rose. Even beyond the obvious magic, which this place had in abundance, the flower was clearly special. It was protected, covered by a bell jar.

She approached it, questions on her tongue that no one was around to actually answer. It was the only thing she had seen protected in the whole place, which posed the question as to why. What was so special about it? She looked over her shoulder, once again checking that she was alone before lifting the bell jar from the flower. Just to investigate a little closer. She’d be careful, she just wanted to see.

The glow seemed to grow brighter as she removed the cover and placed it to the side. The flower was obviously real. That was confirmed by her gently brushing her finger against the petals which were clearly natural, they had a feel that couldn’t be replicated by fabric. The flower had begun to wilt, a number of petals had fallen to the table under it, and both the flower and its leaves had begun to droop. She couldn’t help but think it was a shame. She wasn’t exactly fond of roses, but the flower in front of her was clearly special. It was glowing and beautiful, and she couldn’t imagine how it must’ve looked in full bloom. And, on looking at it trying to figure out what was causing the magical effects, she saw something impossible on each of the petals. A symbol was on each one, as if drawn onto them. She realised that to get a good look, she’d end up pulling one of the petals out, which she would rather avoid. So, she picked one of the fallen petals from the table, just to see if the design was still there or if it was faded. And it was still there, but that wasn’t the part that shocked her when she got a proper look.

“Ia…? Why?” The symbol wasn’t some unknown magical glyph as she had assumed it would be. It was a set of scales, drawn in such a particular way that it was unmistakable. It was the symbol of Lady Ianite. She couldn’t stop staring at it, the petal feeling like some impossible weight. Why would her symbol be here of all places? It was in this position, in front of the rose clutching a petal, that the Beast found her.

Immediately there was a growl, low and intimidating as every wrong and worst assumption the Beast had had about the man originally had returned to her head now about the woman. Capsize tensed at the noise, realising that she’d been caught, and stumbled back as she was bounded past by Fox. She had a few seconds to make her decision. Perhaps against her better judgement, she didn’t try to flee, though she did take a good few steps back from the table as Fox replaced the bell jar over the rose, clinging to it as she stared her down.

“You’re not meant to be here,” She said, her voice low. She was forcing herself to hold back, not very well as she had already assumed the situation in her head. How could she not know the situation? The woman still had a petal in hand. She’d taken days from them. Was it just the one? She quickly scanned the space under the rose, attempting to figure out if there were more petals present. She swore there were less, but that didn’t make any sense. The only thought in her mind was the horror at knowing that she’d lost some of the little time she had left. “Do you know what you’ve done?! Why did you come in here!”

“I’m sorry, I—” Capsize tried to come up with some excuse for her presence, but that had never been her strong suit and being stared down by a Beast wasn’t making the task any easier. Her mouth felt dry, and she knew if she tried to lie that her body would betray her. It wasn’t as if she could just say that she was lost. She tried to come up with words, any words, to explain. “I just wanted to see what was up here.”

“No! No, she told you to come here!” She yelled and Capsize stumbled back a few more steps. She had no idea what Fox meant and that made her feel all the more vulnerable. She’d known, or rather she had rightly assumed, that she’d be in trouble if she was caught in here. But Fox’s words, the idea that someone had suggested she came here, just confused her. This only compounded with her fear. What was she meant to say? How could she get out of this situation?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, trying to figure out if she should edge her way towards the door. Fox’s glare on her felt more intimidating than it ever had before, and she certainly had no way to escape it, but it wasn’t just anger. There was something that she couldn’t read. She knew logically she should try to escape, but she had no idea if she could safely. The Beast didn’t believe her, even if she sounded confused, even if she was backing away. The goddess had told her to come in here, she must have done. Just cursing them hadn’t been enough, she needed to ruin whatever chance she had left of fixing things. “No one sent me in here. I came in of my own accord because I wanted to look around.”

“I heard you talking to her! What did she tell you?!” She advanced on her. The Beast bearing down as she demanded answers. Capsize had no idea what she was being yelled at about. She wanted to run, to get out of the room, to get anywhere she wouldn’t be followed, but she didn’t. As scared as she was, she still wanted to stand her ground, to question exactly why she was so convinced that someone had sent her here. So, she did, she stood her ground rather than fleeing, hoping she looked braver than she actually felt.

“I haven’t been told anything but to stay away from this wing. Who do you think I’ve talked to?” She said, trying beyond anything to just keep her voice steady. She was frankly terrified, but she couldn’t let that stop her. She couldn’t waver, no matter how much she wanted to shake looking at the anger in Fox’s eyes.

“Was it not good enough for her to ruin everything once?” The Beast didn’t answer nor really listen to her words at all. She was sure the goddess was the reason she had been looking at the rose, why she had taken a petal. She needed to know why. Why couldn’t she just be left in peace? She took another step towards the woman, who this time didn’t take any back. Capsize wanted to, she wasn’t exactly feeling confident at this point in her ability to calm the situation, but she couldn’t back down. What kind of life was she going to lead if she lived in fear? She needed to stand tall, to at least pretend she wasn’t scared, because if she didn’t, what did she have in this place? However, as she looked at her, the Beast saw defiance, saw the goddess’ cold anger from that night. Her thoughts could never escape that night.

“Who’s she—”

“You know who she is!” She yelled, lashing an arm out. She was far enough away that she knew she wouldn’t hit her, but her claws caught onto an already damaged piece of furniture. She tossed it across the room with force. It shattered a few feet away from the two. The sound of smashing wood echoed in Capsize’s head. Despite how not a single shard of wood or any part of the Beast had come close to touching her, her entire body went rigid as she felt a terrible pain across her left side.

She knew it wasn’t real, but it was. It was far too real. She could hear her heart pounding, the yelling, the rain falling around her so loud that it was deafening. She felt the terrible pain that marked her entire life changing. She stumbled back with a choked breath, unable to remind herself that she was out of danger because she wasn’t. Just because she wasn’t in that moment didn’t mean she was safe. How close had she been to being hit? It was one thing to know in theory how someone could tear you apart, and another thing to see such clear proof of that fact.

The Beast saw her eyes suddenly widen, her body stiffen as she shifted backwards, and it was as if she suddenly realised reality. The look on the woman’s face was one she hadn’t worn yet, she looked terrified. In that moment, seeing that look, she realised that she’d ruined everything. She reached out towards her, to try and figure out any words that might somehow fix and excuse the mess she’d created but Capsize moved back. Her movement was shaky, and she shook her head as she backed away.

“Stay away from me,” She said, just trying to keep her distance. She couldn’t do this. She had really thought that she could, that she could keep her word and stay here in Red’s place, but the reality had been made clear now. How close had she been to being hurt? She had no idea, but she knew that she couldn’t stay here any longer. Fox’s arm dropped, something about her expression changing, but Capsize didn’t pay attention to that. She instead took off, just running as fast as she could, ignoring everything with the only thought in her mind being that she had to leave.

The Beast fell to her knees. It was over. She’d ruined everything. She’d terrified her. There wasn’t any coming back from it. Sure, she could chase after her, either try to explain and apologise or just stop her from leaving by any means, but what good would that really do? She’d just be forcing her to stay for the principal of the matter, because she agreed to remain here. Maybe it was better that the woman disappeared before she really got her hopes up of anything happening, before anyone here really believed that she could change. If any had been made clear to her at this moment it was that she couldn’t change.

By some miracle, someone had come to this cursed place that didn’t look at her like a complete monster. By another, that person had been willing to give up her freedom to remain in here. And what did she do with that opportunity? Completely ruined any chance she possibly had to bond with her. She’d treated her terribly, caused her to run off in fear, and for what? Not listening to her? For following the goddess that cursed them with no proof of anything more? For not knowing not to touch something she hadn’t mentioned, let alone mentioned the consequences of messing around with it? For those frankly pathetic reasons she’d chased off the one person who had brought even a ray of light into the castle in years. Maybe she did deserve this fate. Maybe the goddess was right that she was heartless and better off forgotten.

But why had she doomed everyone else too? That was the question that ate away at her. Had they deserved punishment for her mistake, or was it just some way to motivate her to actually try and break the curse? Why was it that they were left in such a state and their only chance at salvation was her? No matter the reason it felt cruel, and just made her feel all the worse that their only chance was definitely fleeing the grounds as she made no actions to stop her. She needed to find a solution, for their sakes if not her own. She had to; they didn’t deserve to be doomed because she didn’t make an effort. But how?

She was sure that she’d already wasted her one chance at doing this the way the goddess had presented. Every other method she had tried had resulted in just more failure. So, what was she meant to do to help them? She could only think of one method beyond the intended one that might still work, begging the goddess to at least reverse the curse on the others. Maybe if she accepted her own fate it would be good enough. How could she even get her attention to try though? She’d simply shown up the first time and then disappeared just as quickly.

She sighed and slumped fully to the floor. It all just felt hopeless. The instructions had been clear: fall in love and be loved in return. Yet when someone was in front of her who she had wanted to get to know, had been brave and beautiful and curious, she hadn’t even tried. If someone like her hadn’t moved her to try and act decently, then could anyone? So maybe she deserved to be forgotten by the world, stuck in this monstrous state. She’d figure out a way to help the others, to make sure they were doomed for her mistakes, but herself? She guessed this was exactly what she deserved. After all, if she couldn’t love someone like her, what chance did she really have?

[mar64ds]

For the character asks, Geek, Queen, and Firestarter?

Geek

First impression

Impression now

That’s sam and max’s canon daughter

Favorite moment

I love when sam and max are like ‘thanks geeks you are awesome :)’ but that’s all the times they interact with her

Idea for a story

Father’s day and she invents some dangerous obstacle course because sam and max find that fun

Unpopular opinion

I actually like the idea that she was friends with Sam and Max at first and then became their daughter instead of being immediately their daughter

Favorite relationship

She and her dads

Favorite headcanon

Trans Geek is canon but sure lets say is a headcanon. Aro Geek too

Queen

First impression

Immediately loved her

Impression now

Queen is and will always be the funniest character in the game, toby fox is not going to write anyone funnier than her. She’s also genuinely really interesting and a good antagonist, it’s going to be really difficult to make a final boss character better than her

Favorite moment

Insert every funny line of Queen here

Idea for a story

I like thinking how her life was before moving to the library, in the card kingdom, I think it’s an interesting concept

Unpopular opinion

I don’t think the represents the mothers of everyone on the group, I think she mostly represents Noelle’s and most likely a bit of Berdly’s

Favorite relationship

Her and Noelle but also her and Lancer. But also her relationship with Toriel that I made up

Favorite headcanon

I think Queen likes women (Toriel)

Firestarter

First impression

I really thought he would have another personality based on his design, he seemed like a stoic cool guy, his face does not read like a shy nervous person. Same thing happened with Bellringer because his face also read to me like a clumsy nervous guy but he turned out to be a gossiper that knows everyone secrets lol

This is not me saying ‘bad character design’ or anything, I think they are both awesome and two of my favorite designs

Impression now

The second i realized what his actual personality was like I was sold, what a sweet guy. Love that he can’t stop setting things on fire i think it’s a really funny character trait. Plus canonically has a boyfriend he is so awesome

Favorite moment

I like the comic where he bakes cookies with Mouthpiece and sets the oven on fire and he just smiles and is so proud of himself :)

Idea for a story

I want him to be friends with Rainmaker I think they would get along so well… She’s water themed and he is fire themed and both have anxiety and are very sweet people, awesome friendship

Unpopular opinion

I don’t know what could be considered unpopular with this game so I’m just not going to answer this one lol

Favorite relationship

Him and Pacesetter of course :) I saw that portrait and thought wait? are they? Then I looked it up and yes :) Their personalities bounce off each other really well, I would love to see more of them they’re really sweet

Favorite headcanon

Not sure… Oh maybe he likes cats, the whole rescuing cats from trees and all of that. If Pluto used to exist in the toontown universe I assume there are regular animals in this universe too

[qloof]

For the OC ask game I have quite a few.

Voxel on Zeo and Johannes.

Aria and Vita on Dynamis and Tithi.

Acec on Johannes and Chris

omg…!!

Voxel on Zeo:

I'm still working on Voxel's personality and tendencies but I have a feeling that out of all the coaches, Voxel doesn't see eye-to-eye with Zeo the most (ironic as they are both sort of Fox bladers lmao). Zeo, although he doesn't come around as much as Toby or Masamune because he's busy with WBBA work, is the more professional and strict bunch of the team when it comes to coaching (is this a result of his Team Starbreaker training and he doesnt realize it? perhaps..) and Voxel just isn't a fan of it. He much prefers Masamune's relaxed rules and Toby's softer way of addressing what he needs to work on. Voxel has no idea why Vita likes Zeo so much. Voxel, in general, gives attitude to almost every adult, but will still follow what they say and not disobey with a flat-toned "yes sir". He gives the most attitude to Zeo. Somewhere in the plot, Voxel impulsively and angrily challenges Zeo to a bey battle (something he always does when he has a problem with someone) and promptly loses, earning some sharp words from Zeo, which makes Voxel sulk for a bit and think about his current position on the team. (insert training arc that i've hinted to in the discord server :3). As Voxel integrates himself more into the new gen Team Dungeon and the USA Team, he shakes off of his attitude and works on proving to Zeo that he can contribute to the new team.

Voxel On Johannes:

I haven't thought much about Johannes interacting with new gen Team Dungeon, and I don't think he would, but Voxel would definitely hear stories about him from the coaches. Voxel finds the image of Johannes very funny, and a bit embarrassing for the senior bladers because of how dumb they seemed when dealing with him (lmao). . .

Aria on Dynamis:

OHHHHHH ok for some background information, every USA Team member has their favorite Legendary Blader (that they all argue about who's better). Aria's favorite Legendary Blader is Dynamis. Attempting to power-scale to justify her favorite against the others is not her style; she simply likes him because she thinks he's the prettiest and has the best aesthetic. [ In my headcanons, Dynamis works alongside King for promotional photo shoots sometimes ]. She's the number one Dynamis fan on social media and everyone knows it <3 her response to criticism is "don't care + didn't ask + ur fav can't dress + ratio" At some point I would like her to meet Dynamis in person, but I'm not sure exactly what sort of interactions they'd have adjdjdjjd she would ask for a picture though <3 and maybe challenge him to a bey battle <3

Aria on Tithi:

Ooo this one I had to think about a little bit. For Aria I think it's a bit more difficult to see Tithi as such a figure like the other Legendary Bladers, simply because he's only a few years older than her, but Tithi is very high on the favorites list because he is fun. She thinks his bey and battling style is super epic. ur telling me bro's mythology is quetzacoatl itself???? that's crazyyy !!! I'll have to think more about interactions soon :3 (if they ever have any in the plot adjdjd) but Dynamis would like her fashion sense. . .

Vita on Dynamis:

Through a fan lens, Dynamis would be high on Vita's Favorite Bladers list, but also he's high in terms of respect. Vita already carries deep respect for her coaches, and since Dynamis is King's senior, she feels a little little bit intimidated. Stories she's heard of Dynamis during the Nemesis Crisis blew her mind. she was just kinda like "what,..what do you mean he split the star fragment…" She doesn't have very much to go off of other than popular stories (but her vision of him is taken down a few notches when King tells her some other stories of Dynamis lmao) I don't have any interactions in mind for them at the moment, but they would deffo talk about the mythology behind their planets/mythologies

Vita on Tithi:

I think it would be sort of the same as Aria's view of Tithi adjdjdj . .

Acec on Johannes:

Acec has not met Johannes in person so he doesn't have much to go off by other than the stories Masamune and Bao tell him. Acec's reaction to what Bao tells him of Beylin Fist's experience is very "what the fuck?? you let a catboy do that to you guys…" and he starts laughing. there are tears in his eyes.

Acec on Chris:

Acec sees Chris once in a while when xe visits Team Dungeon. Acec walked in one day, saw him just chilling on a chair, turn to Masamune and go "who the hell is that" (Chris also goes "who the hell is that") Acec would probably join in one the light bullying of Chris Beyblade, but otherwise wouldn't mind him and have some chit-chat. I don't think they'd be more than acquaintances really, just people who are chill with each other because of mutual friends.

[staticl0ve]

WRITER ASK (I might have just seen it🧍🏻‍♀️)

🌈 - is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

🎀 - give yourself a compliment about your own writing

🤍 - what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

💫 - what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

AND ANOTHER EXTRA ONE I MADE UP because I can and you cant stop me 😌:

👀 - ARE THERE any scenes from any fics of yours that didn’t make in the final cut?

LOVE YOU BABE♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️

AHHHHH. Girl, I love you so much 😭. Gonna SOB MY EYES OUT before I can write this. ✨

🌈 - is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

I wanna say, Garden of Eden’s chapter 8 where it’s all about machine!Connor and there’s so much tension before the filth. Getting the tone down, plus making sure he felt reasonably like a machine was extra hard.

In the same vein, of TBND, You Drive Me Crazy’s part two with Cain/Nines was SO DIFFICULT to write. It took weeks of back and forth cutting and moving aspects of that chapter around to get the vibes right.

Something the two examples have in common is trying to find the motivation of a cold, emotionally removed character and making the spark of change happen in them. It’s especially hard because these colder characters don’t talk a ton and can’t wear their emotions on their sleeves and there’s a need to sprinkle in sexual tension so it’s not all stiff and mean interactions.

I love Nines, I wanna write more Nines. He’s just a difficult man to properly portray and be interesting/sexy the whole way.

🎀 - give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Uh. 🧍‍♀️Whutchu mean?

I jk. Put that gun away.

I’m pretty ADHD as hell so I wanna say I think I enjoy the pacing of my scenes. I try to jump around or keep things interesting/getting to the point, cause I personally can’t focus on something too long if I’m writing it. I’ll even cut stuff from scenes when I edit if I feel like it’s too much to read and doesn’t have to be there.

🤍 - what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

Funny enough, I left so many clues in Dollhouse about the plot and even fully explain it in the last chapter and I got comments where people were confused or didn’t understand how it could have happened that way. 🤣 Most people got it, I think I leaned really heavily on the pop culture reference of hoping others read the tags and watched Ex Machina and had a sense of what they’re getting into.

💫 - what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

Any! I love all comments, they make me feel so fuzzy on the inside. 💙✨

In particular, I always love it when people comment about the character dynamics, enjoy a scene or if they’ve found my side jokes in the narrative. I recently had someone laughing over a joke I slid into Dancing with the Devil and it made my day.

👀 - ARE THERE any scenes from any fics of yours that didn’t make in the final cut?

SNEAKY. I love your questions, they make me think.

There was meant to be a family picnic scene planned for Sixty’s TNBD part two. I thought it would be entertaining if Hank gave his son crap and embarrassed him further in front of his reader. I forget why I cut it, and chances are, it was cause I wanted the pacing to not get stalled by a scene that at the time… I still felt too new to dialogue to confidently tackle and keep interesting.

Some scenes don’t get cut, but morphed entirely so it reads really differently but the original vibes are there.

The Pig and the Fox was actually drafted with the interrogation scene first, looooong before I even thought about the plot. The scene was really different, at the time I just wanted a focus on the sexual tension of two characters: one who wants the other and one who’s aware of the other but “hates” them.

So the dialogue was a lot meaner and more spiteful. It took a fair amount of workshopping to adjust the scene to fit the plot since that scene ultimately ended up in chapter 3 where a lot of context has changed how the two characters would interact. I’d like to think I still preserved the spicy tension though. ✨🔥

-

Ty again, babe. 💋💙✨ These questions are so sweet!

Ask me anything from this writer ask.

[verdanabdit]

Whaddya think about Deltarune!Fontcest? Like maybe how they’d interact in the dark world?

;w; My heart is aching so much to see Papyrus in Deltarune. When chp2 dropped, I hardly absorbed anything happening in the light world because "I have a date!! I can't waste time with all this!! Papyrus is waiting for me!!! LET ME SUPLEX THESE CARS OUT OF THE WAY!!! I PROMISED HIM!!!!"

Suffice to say I want to see what Papyrus Deltarune is like very, very much. All of the other Undertale characters may be mostly the same in personality (except Mettaton??), but Papyrus being so purposely hidden has me so incredibly worried that he won't be even close to the same. And if he isn't, then... what's his dynamic with Sans going to be like?? It all rests on him!!

But!! Assuming he's the same....

Papyrus and Sans would very frustratingly be separated for the majority of the dark world where they're present. But just as with the time they're apart in Undertale, they talk about each-other a lot. It's the only vague look into their DR lore that we'd get as Papyrus talks about how this puzzle reminds him of a predicament he and Sans got into in the last place they lived. If you get the chance to ask them if they're worried about each-other, they... A) have utmost confidence in each-other. Sans has somehow always been reliable when it counts - and Papyrus will always get through whatever he's set his mind to. B) put up a front of confidence, but have a handfull of asides that give away how worried they are. Sans has always been on the more fragile side - and Papyrus is just as easy to manipulate as he does to others.

hhhh...hhheueh..... ;A; My heart yearns for a reunion between them in this scenario!! They've gone the entire chapter without seeing each-other and it's almost time for the boss! They finally reunite as tensions are at their highest yet. When Papyrus notices Sans, there's the exclamation point bubble. He shuffles wildly in place. And then SLINGSHOTS HIMSELF over to his brother for-- a surprisingly sincere embrace, full of relief. Whichever artist manages to use their pixel budget to convey such a moment, we will all say they deserve a raise, but Mr. Fox priced this precise moment perfectly. And then remembering that they have an audience, Papyrus clears his throat and gets back 'into character'. Susie tries to lightheartedly tease him about how much he cares about his brother, and for a moment, the player thinks he'll refute her claims to save face, but he responds very easily that there's no reason to be embarrassed by such affections. He simply thought it rude to flaunt their deep brotherly bond in front of others. (and it becomes a subtle sore spot for both Kris, who's still missing Asriel, and Susie, who so far doesn't seem to have a good home life.)

...but all of that is just what I think might actually happen, rather than fontcest fantasies. It's difficult to fantasize with so little to go on.

But with that liiiiittle bit, I like to think about...

Them sticking together in the dark world and doing just fine without anyone else's help. Papyrus is excited to explore and the player's party is taking too long! They spend most of their time doing just that, but they find a secluded spot every now and then to sneak a quick kiss and snuggle a bit while they talk about what they've encountered.

Covert dates at QC's. Definitely just two bros enjoying lunch together. Playing footsie under the table.

The flowers Asgore tries to give as payment at times get brought home as gifts for Papyrus. It's romantic at first but their house is starting to look like the flower shop and they're out of vases, so there's just random flowers in mugs and bowls, sometimes on the floor. Sans improvises a melodramatic (spoken flatly) scene each time he comes back with a flower or bouquet in hand.

Quiet, amorous moments together in their house alone, interrupted by Kris audibly shoving their ear against the front door or rustling around the front window.

...

Onnnnn the more problematic side of things. What if Papyrus is enrolling as a student. I'll leave that for braver people to think about.

(This post brought to you by my cat, who dramatially draped himself in front of the keyboard, fell asleep, and shoved my hands away. In his sleep. Splaying his legs over the keys, which I push away or press into the keys. And he sleeps through it. The entire time.)

[ambriel-angstwitch]

This is my oc her name is Theodora Mattea Walker. (She goes by Teddie) Both names meaning gift because she was a gift on their doorstep like Jay. Anyways here’s my thoughts I had on her (btw she’s based on me because technically she’s just part of the drawing myself in different styles challenge I did during the summer)

1. First I had to come up with an element and so I realized we already had two infinity stones as elements so why not more. So I was debating between Reality, Soul and Space (to anyone in the asking things there’s your explanation.) I decided on Space because that’s what most answered but also because Reality is to OP and while Soul was fun to ponder it’s also a bit too confusing in Ninjago lore plus it would also be kind of op in season 5. So space it was which means being able to teleport yourself and teleport things.

2. I really wondered how in the world I would join the ninjas I figured the most simple answer would probably be just in season 4. But I really liked the concept of her being Jay’s sibling mostly for crack reasons. Like imagine Ed and Edna just receiving a child on their doorstep twice, and then imagine learning years later that they both have powers. Also because I also have brown hair (that may occasionally have an orangish tone) imagine before learning their adopted them both thinking they are twins. Like they have literally no blood relationship but they look like they could be twin and thought they were twins. (Also why I included the eyebrow slit/scar. I thought it would be funny if one of them got injured and the other just shaved theirs to match.) I also would probably be excited to see Ed and Edna vs Jay’s annoyed. And I just think I could make a good sibling dynamic with Jay. (Also I’ve made so much ideas for something that was just supposed to be a drawing that I kind of want to make a story)

More on the twin thing for Jay and my character. I imagine them having an interaction in season 8 where they get mad at him for ditching the slit because “just because we’re not actually twins doesn’t mean we have to stop acting like ones”. Then perhaps they decide to get fake freckles just to spite Jay by continuing the twin thing. They will be twins whether Jay likes it or not.

3. I went with Maroon because my lovely spouse suggested it and also I find it very funny if all the guys are basic colors and then the girls are tertiary colors.

4. I went with a fox as the animal on the suit because I like foxes and I couldn’t figure out why they had the animals they each individually had so I just went with one I liked.

5. I went with Skybound gi’s because I liked the gi, it looked fun to draw, I like Skybound and I thought it’d be funny to have my character be in the clothes of the one timeline that doesn’t actually exist

6. One of the more difficult things with trying to do different art styles is my hair because I keep having to figure out how curls work in that art style. So in this case that is an actual Lego curly hair piece that I drew. (I picked that one because for short curly hair it was either that or share a hair piece with Umbridge and the second ones a no go)

[77-fxes]

The Chaos Funnel

The last act of Wakanda Forever is chaotic. It didn't really hit me until I kept hearing people question a lot of decisions in the third act, particularly the field of battle. I've seen a lot of reactors point out that meeting the Talokanils in the middle of the ocean definitely puts the Wakandans at a disadvantage. While this is true, I'd also argue that, particularly on short notice, it was the only real way to engage Namor in a fight that didn't include his entire army invading an already devastated Wakanda (but that's for another post).

But the more I thought about it, the more I began to see how the chaos of that battle, the risks taken, the assumptions made, the plans reversed, all have their origin in the emotional chaos that started with Shuri's visit to the Ancestral Plane.

Here she meets Killmonger where she initially expected to meet her mother or maybe her brother, or more honestly, she didn't expect to meet anyone. Taking the heart-shaped herb was never about having an emotional experience after all. As Shuri admitted, it was always about power, and even then, she couldn't really admit what she wanted the power for. In having to admit that she desired revenge, Shuri was also forced to confront the series of strong and often conflicting emotions that accompany grief. In her conversation with Killmonger, Shuri was forced to confront her own feelings of revenge, her difficult feelings about her father's hypocrisy, her mother's selfless sacrifice, and her brother's nobility, her cousin's selfishness. and her anger at how those qualities landed her and Wakanda in the place they're in now. She loved these people and grieves them, but also, has an understandable anger directed towards them.

'It's not supposed to be this way' you can almost hear her say. Shuri doesn't strike me as a person who enjoys having these emotions, someone who's self-concept of herself is that of a helper, a positive, selfless, understanding person who loves her family and country very much. The kind of person who would fight against tyrants like Thanos and save broken white boys who wind up on her operating table.

Grief robs us of such a one-dimensional and rosy self-concept. Grief often involves feelings of anger, of being robbed of a loved one, of both missing someone and hating them at the same time, among other feelings. In the Teen Vogue article on the portrayal of grief in the movie, the columnist Stitch praises the film's open and non-judgmental portrayal of a young black woman's anger in the midst of grief, writing “Seeing Black women allowed to be openly and rightfully angry is so refreshing to me. Shuri's rage and thirst for vengeance in the face of feeling helpless after her brother's death and the murder of her mother was beyond cathartic,” Nia Shumake also highlighted how grief changes your everyday life, highlighting the ways in which each of the four leads attempted to deal with the loss of T'Challa throughout the movie, highlighting Shuri's workaholic tendencies. In my own experience of grief, I've found that the chaos of grief is the most difficult thing to come to grips with. As a person who often prides himself on a high degree of emotional intelligence and a member of the helping profession, I don't like feeling out of control, and I suspect that Shuri--a scientist who values reason and practicality for the greater good--is similarly foxed by such emotions.

It's the chaos of grief that she has been avoiding in her lab, that she's been avoiding in any interaction with her brother's memory or any spiritual journey with it. And it is this emotional chaos that is unavoidable on the Ancestral Plane. Once it is unleashed, Shuri is completely unable to deal with it. From her emotional outburst after taking the herb to her lashing out a M'Baku and into the final battle, Shuri is angry, reckless, selfish, short-sighted, rash. And she should be all of those things! This is a person dealing with unimaginable and chaotic grief. One of my pet peeves with the way that superhero films are sometimes approached is that characters should have the same emotional distance that we do. And so it's easy to say, 'they should have gotten over it,' or 'someone should have made better decisions, or thought more clearly.'

Wakanda Forever eschews that by showing a risky, but not horrible plan formulated under difficult circumstances by what is essentially an absolute monarch. The plan is bad, but no one outside of M'Baku and Nakia would say so, and it's clear that Shuri isn't listening. Thus the chaos extends to the battle where excellent soldiers almost pull off a daring plan, but have no plan B and subsequently find themselves in trouble. A daughter in grief having trapped her quarry in a perfect trap but underestimated how strong that quarry still is. A combatant fighting a more experienced fighter and having to eventually remember her own sense of savvy and strategy to get the upper hand, and finally, the choice between what seems like an emotionally satisfying death strike or a more rational and practical mercy. In this moment, Shuri's understanding of the similarities between herself and Namor, Wakanda and Talokan, followed by a reminder that acting on this information amidst the emotional chaos is the most authentic and cathartic solution saves the day. In a sense, Shuri finds herself within the chaos of grief and acts as she really wants to. This doesn't mean that the chaos has ended, just that she's found some bearings within it.

And isn't that just how grief is? For me, the chaos was years of drinking and self-destruction after my father passed, and getting my bearings took the form of seeking sobriety. For others, it's months spent sitting on the couch in a depressive haze until something new comes along that drags you back out. Still for others, it's isolation, blame, anger at the world. The chaos can take a number of forms. But as Shuri learns in the movie, the chaos of grief can never be fully avoided.

[fantasy-on-parchment]

Fic idea: Jacks couldn't stand Luc (Vampire mode) and Eva interacting. Jealousy to the nth level brewing.

AH I love writing jealous!Jacks, this is going to be soooo good.

I couldn't really tell if you meant the scene where they're conversing in the book or for me to come up with another... so I sat and thought for a minute and really wanted to write about a scene that I could see happening in The Ballad of Never After. I hope you enjoy this and thank you for your ask! <3

Summary: On a night when she can't sleep, Evangeline decides to take a trip to the Hall's library to see if she can find any information about the Valors and the Arch. However, on the way she bumps into a mysterious man with... with the most... beautiful eyes...

warnings: none.

PS: PLEASE READ> I'm kind of twisting the vampires' powers here because I felt like a lot was left out of Broken Heart, or at least I have some theories about how they might be used in Never After. It's essentially the same thing, just a little more emphasized. Kinda like love curse, vampires can glamour humans with their eyes to do certain things. HOWEVER, this glamour can be broken by looking into the eyes of your true love.

Ain't no one about to tell me this isn't Evangeline.

No matter how she tossed and turned, sleep was not happening tonight, not for Evangeline. It wasn't to say she wasn't exhausted, because a full day of arguing with the Prince of Hearts would be enough to send anyone into hibernation. She'd braided her long, pink locks into two loose braids and put on her most comfortable nightgown.

But the room was hot, and her body just wasn't as tired as her mind.

She sat up slowly, pushing the covers back and letting her skin cool down. She figured she should put this newfound time to use. In all this time, trying to find out more about the Valory Arch, she hadn't thought to do any research in Wolf Hall's library. To be fair, that's probably the first place she should have gone, and maybe would have been if she didn't have an obnoxious Fate pulling her here and there.

The hall at night seemed scary to Evangeline, given how big of a place this was. But she'd endured far worse, so what was a little darkness?

One step out the door, and a voice shot through her head.

What are you doing?

She paused outside her door. It had to be past midnight.

I could ask you the same thing, don't you need your beauty rest?

Yes, taunt him, Evangeline, she thought, that'll do wonders. But she couldn't help it, never with him.

Fates don't really need sleep.

I know, I was referring strictly to you.

She heard a chuckle in her mind, but it felt so close. Like lips drifting up her neck, fingers sliding her hair out of the way so he could whisper in her ear.

Where are you going?

Nowhere you need to be concerned with.

She didn’t want him coming with her, she told herself, her body might not be tired but her mind yearned for sleep. Even if he always made her feel a little bit better, nothing was going to happen to her with him around.

But it wasn't genuine. He wanted her for the prophecy, nothing else. He couldn't join her tonight because she needed to do her own research without him twisted her thoughts.

You might as well tell me, Little Fox, lest you're looking for a chase.

She didn't respond. Why would he chase her at this hour? He didn't even know where she was going, if she went quick enough...

She heard a door creak open down the hall, and she took it as queue to scurry down a nearby corridor and quickly to the staircase. The library would be on the bottom floor, and her bedroom was on the third. Wolf Hall was designed for the most difficult escapes, meaning that the stairs to one floor were directly opposite the stairs to the next. Evangeline needed to cross the entire Hall in order to find her way to the first floor, and then halfway across again to get to the library.

Well, hopefully the trip would at least ware her down a little.

She'd made it halfway across the second-floor ballroom when she heard footsteps approaching.

Seriously, turn around.

She hoped some sense would come to him, that he might leave her alone for the night. But when the footsteps continued, she felt the irritation building in her chest.

I'm nowhere near you.

She turned quickly, "Listen--"

Little Fox?

The response in her head didn't matter, Evangeline barely even heard it as her eyes found two shimmering brown orbs. She swore they glowed, like little masterpieces with gold flecks painted in.

"Hello, Darling..." Luc stepped further out of the shadows. He'd grown since the last time she'd seen him, grown into a real vampire. He wore a simple black tunic that hugged his arms in a way that had Evangeline's heart wondering back to those hidden nights when they were just children.

Little Fox? Why aren't you responding?

"Luc..." she found herself whispering. Before, she had thought she couldn't feel anything for him anymore, after the crypt and what she had shared with Jacks. But now... oh my.

Evangeline, seriously--

The voice cut off in her head. Not that she hadn't heard it, as if something had interrupted it. She didn't have time to think as Luc stepped forward, his cold fingers feeling invasive on her neck as they brushed her hair behind her ear.

"It's been so long," his eyes roved over her, her trance only allowed herself to nod, "you're as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you..." her voice came out velvety smooth, her chest rising quicker, her knees feeling heavy.

He stepped closer, still, his knuckles moving over her cheek as his eyes drop to her collarbone. "I waited for you, you know? That morning, after that bastard chased you away from me..."

bastard.

Jacks... Jacks was a bastard, an asshole, a complete mess but... but she didn't like Luc saying it for some reason. Especially about the night that Jacks used all his self-control to keep her safe, something Luc couldn't do...

She took a step back, but he followed.

"Woah, woah, woah..." His fingers lifted her jaw, and she became entranced in his eyes once again. "I let you go once; you think I'm going to do that again?"

Numbly, she shook her head. He was so close, overwhelming her senses.

"Now," he leaned into her ear, his breath made her throat feel tight, "why don't you go to your room and wait for me?"

Still numb, Evangeline stepped around him, with her room the only thought in her mind. On some level, somewhere, this didn't feel right, but her feet kept moving anyways. Her heart felt like a drum against her ribs, insisted, disruptive until Luc's footsteps were gone.

And she was suddenly pulled behind an arch. A cold, secure hand around her waist pulled her back to a solid chest. She fought against it.

My room, my room.

The arm only tightened; this time accompanied by a brush of lips against her ear: "Must I constantly remind you who you belong to?"

With a yelp, she was turned with her back against the wall, caged in my two pale arms and the stern expression of the Prince of Hearts. Evangeline didn't meet his eyes, instead she looked longingly to the staircase.

The cold air pressed in on her as his chest brushed hers, "I've told you; you still owe me. Until I decide, you're mine." His voice is drowning in anger.

Evangeline pushes at his arm, a whimper escaping, "Have to meet him in my room, have to be good..." she mumbled, more to herself, feeling dread sink in at the thought of not doing what was asked.

A hand was suddenly at her shoulder, pushing her gently so her back was flat against the wall. Her eyes found the floor, feeling ashamed with herself. What would Luc think?

"That boy glamoured you!?" Jacks was furious enough to bring down the whole of Wolf Hall.

"Luc..." she gasped, she had to get to Luc.

Jacks growled at the sound of his name on her lips, and suddenly he was closer than ever.

"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to tear him limb from limb."

He cupped her face and pulled her up so he could look at her.

"Little Fox--"

It was like a tether being broke in two, it was like waking up from a coma where you thought all your dreams were real. It was the breaking of a curse.

"You have the most beautiful eyes." Was all she could say. Because it was true, Luc's hadn't glowed, not really, not like this. His hands felt invasive, where Jacks were cold in a way that assured they would pull her out of any fire. His breath next to her ear hadn't made her throat close up, rather it sent delicious shivers down her spine.

He stumbled back, looking at her in a whole new way, a way that sent the whole situation crashing down on her.

"Oh... oh my god." She cupped her mouth with her hands, tears blurring her vision as she slid down the stone walls.

Not again, not again.

Jacks was in front of her in an instant, crouching down and pulling her hands from her face. "Never again." His blue eyes were like the brightest part of a flame.

Evangeline didn't know what to do with herself. The world kept playing these stupid mind games with her when all she wanted was love.

"Evangeline... did... did I just undo your curse?" He clasped her tear-stained hands in one of his, using the other to brush off the wetness on her cheeks.

'I... I guess." Evangeline continued sobbing. Sleep, she wanted to sleep.

He was quiet for a moment, staring dumbfounded at her. She wanted to ask what she missed, but his face cleared, and he helped her to her feet.

"You're not going to your room tonight," Jacks said, pulling he up the staircase and to his room.

"Jacks!" Evangeline pulled her hands from his, "As the wife of the prince, it would be impure to sleep in your room."

But Jacks wound on her in an instant, so quick she couldn't blink before his lips were on hers.

She pushed him away instantly, but it was too late. His mouth had left an implant on hers that tasted sweeter than anything she'd had the pleasure to consume. Still, he stayed close.

"Do you know what it means to break a vampire's glamour?" Jacks ground out. When Evangeline didn't respond, he continued, "No one else could have done it besides your true love, Little Fox. The way the glamour works, it can only be broken by looking into the eyes of your true love. You looked at me, and your curse broke." He pulled her to him again.

She felt like her heart might explode. Jacks? Her true love? Why did it make so much sense and yet none at all.

She didn't stop to think about it, because his lips were then on her neck, and he was twisting the knob to his door and pushing them both in. She gasped as his kisses spread from her collarbone to her ear.

"But... Apollo--"

"I do not care one ounce about the prince, and I'll deal with Luc in the morning. Right now, all I care about is kissing every inch of you I've been withheld for so long."

The way his lips were descending toward her chest, she had no protests as her knees hit the bed and she let herself fall. She pulled him down by his collar and joined their lips.

"You're mine." She gasped.

"From the beginning of time to the end." He breathed.

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 14

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 15k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, past sexual abuse, derogetory language, sexual harassment

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

It has been a long time, I know. Thanks for being patient with me. This was supposed to be the last chapter of Yoongi and Hoseok’s part but I just couldn’t fit everything that needed to happen inside or it would turn into a 30k chapter and be even more late, so I divided it into two.

The taglist is now closed.

Four days felt like a much smaller amount of time than when you had first been informed of your break.  When you heard the alarm the morning you had to go back to work, you were tempted to ignore it and cover your head with the sheets. This was strange for two reasons. You always woke up before your alarm and it was impossible for you to fall asleep again after waking up, even when you were exhausted. But your eyes were heavy and sleep was clinging to your bones.

You reached for your phone and turned off the alarm. The hybrids were waiting for you in the kitchen, breakfast already served. You thanked Seokjin, who looked the most awake. Jimin and Jungkook were leaning against each other with their eyes half closed, small yawns escaping them every few minutes. It was a little earlier than the time you usually left but you had to do some work in the company building before you could go to the studios. Hoseok's injuries were much better, you didn't need to check on them twice a day anymore so you avoided going to their room and waking them up.

The fox hybrid had been opening up more and he looked more at ease with his surroundings. After eating dinner with you on the first night of your break, he had timidly asked if they could join you again. His whole face lit up when you told him they would always be welcome. Dinners had turned into lunches too, claiming that way you didn't have to carry the trays to their room every day.

You weren't surprised at how well he got along with Jimin. His heart-shaped smile had even charmed Namjoon. He was fascinated with every little thing and you made use of your break to show him around the house. It could be a little overwhelming, so you stuck to the basics at first. The kitchen, the upstairs living room, the library (where at least one of you could be found most times) and the cinema room. He looked at everything in wonder, his red tail wagging behind him. Yoongi trailed after you, the bored expression on his face slipping at how happy and excited Hoseok was.

The second day of your break Jimin announced that you would all be watching a movie. He would accept no complaints, not that there were any. You made enough popcorn for a whole movie theater while Seokjin and Jungkook made pizza. You strictly forbade them from putting on one of your movies. You were so deeply involved and connected with them you had trouble watching them without overthinking every scene, line and camera angle. Jimin pouted, joined by Jungkook and a more subtle Hoseok. But you didn’t budge. Jimin huffed and selected a comedy with an actor Seokjin liked.

It was the third day of your break and Jimin had dragged you with him to the guest suite, saying he needed his daily cuddles. You were laying together in his bed as you played with his blond strands. His hair was growing longer and he was complaining that it was falling in his eyes but you loved running your hands through it, your fingers getting lost inside. Jimin snuggled into your side, his tail wrapped around your waist.

“You are very affectionate today,” you said. Jimin let out an unsatisfied noise when you stopped massaging his scalp, so you moved your hand upwards, scratching behind his cat ears, eliciting a small moan from him.

“I am always affectionate,” he said, nuzzling against your collarbones. “You’re just not here and you’re tired when you come back.”

You placed a kiss on the crown of his head. “Sorry.” It was your job. You shouldn’t feel guilty. And yet…

Jimin raised his head, your hand falling from his hair to rest on his cheek. “Don’t be. I just wish you were here more. With us. But your job is important.”

“I guess,” you said caressing his cheek, the cat hybrid leaning into your touch. “I’ll try to get some more time off when I go back to work.” It would be difficult but not impossible. There were often breaks for a couple of days in the filming schedule but you usually spent those revising scripts or reviewing the work of the various departments or attending meetings. Many of those things weren’t actually your responsibilities, they weren’t in your contract, you did them because you wanted everything to be perfect. You could take a step back for once and make up for it later.

Jimin leaned against you, purring happily at the prospect of spending more time with you. He had been clinging to you in the past days after your week-long absence. The first night after making up with Jungkook he had slept with him in their room and you’d thought he would sleep there from now on. But the next night you had come out of the shower to find him laying in your bed.

A talk show was playing on the TV, filling the comfortable silence of the room. Jimin whispering your name had you looking away from the screen. “Hoseok is doing better, right?”

“He is. He’s recovering fast. Why are you asking?” you asked, worried that he had noticed something you hadn’t. Hybrids had much more developed senses than humans that could have detected something you had missed.

“He’s nice,” he said, playing with the fake buttons of your shirt. “He looks so happy all the time and he’s so energetic.”

“He is. See? He’s really getting better.” That didn’t seem to satisfy Jimin.

“What if they want to leave now that he’s better?”

You cooed at him, pulling him closer. “Is that what’s brought this on? If they want to leave we can’t stop them. The door is always open if they don’t want to be here anymore. They only came here because Hoseok was injured and he couldn’t go to the hospital.”

“But can they stay?” His eyes were shining as he looked up at you. “Please.”

“They can stay for as long as they want. But I can’t force them to stay.”

Jimin didn’t say anything more, hiding into your side. Last night at dinner, Jimin had been quiet and withdrawn, glancing at Yoongi every few minutes. There was history between them, one that ran deep and cut just as hard. From little clues and pieces and what Jimin himself had told you, you had pieced together an image of Jimin’s past but you had trouble finding where exactly Yoongi fit.

You hadn’t forgotten Jimin’s words in your office the day you had invited the two hybrids in your house. Yoongi once belonged to the same man Jimin did. They had done something to him and Jimin had been left to the adoption center he had escaped from. Yoongi had been left somewhere else, you guessed a less savory place. But you couldn’t figure out what they could have done to be kicked out. Something Jimin still felt guilty about. Betrayal was a strong and sticky word and it was hard to associate it with sweet Jimin, even when that man deserved that and more.

Yoongi was a mystery surrounded by several brick walls. Only a wrecking ball could break them down. You were the kind of person to knock on a wall and wait for it to crumble by itself when it came to people. At work, if the only way to get through an obstacle was a wrecking ball, you would bring a wrecking ball.

Surprises weren’t uncommon for you (see: Virginia earthquake), you had learnt to face them head on and control the consequences. But that hadn’t prepared you for the string of surprises during your break and the days after that.

The first surprise came with how well Hoseok was getting along with the other hybrids. His endearing excitement about anything and everything didn’t fail to amuse them. He would curl up on the grass, bathing in sunlight, often joined by Jimin who had developed the same habit when spring first arrived. He was curious about everything, asking question after question with his red fluffy tail wagging behind him like an overexcited puppy. All of you couldn’t help but humor him and try to answer his questions to the best of your abilities.

The second surprise shocked you more than the first. It was the third night the two hybrids were eating dinner with you in the backyard. Yoongi usually didn’t talk, opting to focus on his food while observing the progression of the meal. Thus when he spoke, everyone fell silent. He didn’t say much, it only took him a couple of seconds to compliment Jin’s cooking then become quiet again. Jin stuttered through his thanks, flustered at the unexpected compliment. The panther hybrid didn’t talk again for the rest of the meal.

The third surprise was seeing Yoongi and Jimin sitting next to each other, sometimes in silence and sometimes talking. Being pulled to each other like a moth to the flame. It made Hoseok all too happy to spend time with both of them.

The fourth surprise came in the form of a text from a contact you hadn’t interacted with since Christmas. You laid back on your bed, staring at the paragraphs-long text and forgetting about anything else. You stared and stared as if the letters would rearrange themselves, or better yet disappear if you stared long enough.

You didn’t notice how much time you had spent there unmoving until there was a knock on the door.

“Open,” you called.

The door was pushed open and Namjoon walked into the room, his gray hair falling in his face. In the mornings he looked younger. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Yeah,” you said, not moving. They never had to call you for breakfast. Your schedules had become so in sync you arrived for breakfast the moment it was ready or a few minutes early.

“What happened?” Namjoon asked. He approached, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“Nothing happened, I guess. It’s an invitation.” The text had been sent late last night but you had missed it, leaving your phone to charge upon coming back home and not looking at it again. “It’s from my parents. For a gala.”

“Your parents?” The surprise was evident in his face. You didn’t talk much about your parents, those were conversations you didn’t tend to enjoy. Your parents were a topic you weren’t well-versed in and your lack of confidence was irritating.

You looked at the text again, black letters surrounded by gray. “They invited me to a fashion gala. They would really appreciate it if I could attend.” Reading the text again, you wondered if your mother had asked someone else to write it before deeming it persuasive enough to send. “It’s held in Beverly Hills.”

“When?” Namjoon asked.

“Saturday. In less than a week.” It was Tuesday.

Namjoon glanced at your phone. “Do you want to go?”

The answer was more complicated than you would have liked. You didn’t feel like buying a new gown (god forbid if you wore a dress you had worn before at such an event), having your makeup and hair done and plastering a smile on your face while exchanging pleasantries with people you didn’t know for the whole night. But it wasn’t that easy. You hadn’t attended the Christmas event your mother had organized, using work as an excuse, not feeling like showing up at an event in the mindset you had fallen into. Although she didn’t show it, your mother had been offended.

You couldn’t skip another event.

You threw an arm over your eyes, groaning. “I can’t not go. My mother organized the gala, it will look bad if I’m not there.”

“I could come with you,” Namjoon offered.

It would be nice having someone there with you. Namjoon had a way of calming you down and settling your worries but actually remembering those galas made you change your mind. The rich and mighty loved showing off their wealth and power and hybrids were part of that allure. You wouldn’t subject Namjoon to that. You weren’t sure how he would react. You didn’t want to subject him to your parents’ scrutiny either.

“It would be better if I went alone,” you said. Namjoon threaded his fingers with yours in understanding. He pulled on your hand until you were sitting up on the bed, facing him.

“If you don’t want to go, you shouldn’t.”

Only that it wasn’t so simple. Or it was just your human nature making this overcomplicated.

“My mother will be really disappointed if I don’t go. I didn’t go to her last event, either. It will look bad if I don’t go to this one too.” Namjoon squeezed your hand, urging you to continue. “I’m just tired of them. Galas, events, they are all the same and not in a good way. Sure, there are some people worth talking too. I’ve had some great conversations there, but those are far and few in between. Most people are just trying to outshine the one next to them. And my mother only wants me there to complete the picture.”

The powerful and influential couple with their successful daughter. It was an image that haunted you. Most times you tried to ignore it because it wasn’t fair of you to judge your parents like that. They never made you attend those events, they didn’t get angry when you couldn’t make it. But it left a sour taste in your mouth when those events were the only times you saw them anymore.

“You don’t have to be alone there.” Namjoon brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of your palm. “I’m always here if you change your mind. It would feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want you there. I do,” you said. “But that isn’t a world you want to be a part of, it isn’t really my world either. There, hybrids are just expensive accessories and I don’t want people to look at you like that. Like you are something to be had.”

Namjoon’s eyes were soft on you as he cupped your cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “That’s how most people look at us. It isn’t something new. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m used to it.”

“But it isn’t right.” You sounded like a five-year-old complaining that the world wasn’t fair because her parents didn’t buy her ice cream but you couldn’t help it. “And it isn’t just the other people, the guests. I’m not sure about my parents either. They don’t know I’ve adopted you. Actually, they don’t know about anything that has happened in my life this year.”

“I understand if you don’t want them to know about us.”

“It isn’t that,” you said. “Not exactly. I don’t want them involved in my business and judging my choices. They- They are my parents and I guess they care about me in their own way but I won’t be able to stay calm if they look at you like they are estimating your price tag.”

Namjoon leaned closer, bringing your foreheads together. You closed your eyes, surrounded by his warmth. “All I care about is for you to feel comfortable and if my presence there will make things worse then I won’t come with you. But if you change your mind, I’ll be right here. Whatever you want, I’m here.”

You tilted your head, waiting for his lips to touch yours. You shared a sweet kiss before there was another knock at the door.

“Namjoon! Did you wake her up?” Seokjin shouted from the other side of the door. “The breakfast is getting cold! I woke up at the crack of dawn to make it!”

You giggled as you separated.

“Let’s go before he decides we don’t deserve food,” Namjoon said.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 You had to readjust your schedule for the gala. There were many things you had to do in the five days leading up to it. Your mother was so pleased you accepted the invitation she called you the very next day to tell you how happy she was you would be attending. She hadn’t organized a fashion gala in years and it meant a lot that you would be there to support her. The gala was all about the importance of fashion and the unique interpretations of old and new big names in the industry. It would be one of the grandest events of the year, even if your mother was as clueless about fashion as she was about your life. She enjoyed watching the glorious parts and giving compliments, but rarely got more involved than that.

She had arranged for you to meet with one of the designers featured at the event. You could choose a dress from his collection that would be showcased at the gala. Your mother reassured you that they would do everything so your dress would be fitted to your exact measurements and ready for you to wear on time. You didn’t complain. It would be otherwise impossible to find a dress of the caliber your mother expected in such a short time.

The designer came to your house himself with his assistants. He was a nice young man with a tilted accent revealing that he wasn’t originally from the United States. You made small talk about the different kinds of art characterizing your jobs. They took your measurements and presented you with a few options the designer had selected for you. Some were more eccentric than others but all of them were beautiful.

After discussing with him and listening to his opinions, you selected a piece with gold and red embroidery and a flowy skirt. He was very pleased with your choice, going on and on about how good it would look on you. You felt fluttered at how excited he was for you to wear his design.

You had to meet him again a few days later for the first fitting. He offered to come to your house again but it would be easier for the alterations to be at his studio, where all of his tools were.

Jimin had seen the opportunity to spend more time with you and put on his most convincing puppy eyes asking you to take him with you to the fashion studio. You had no reason to refuse, you wanted to spend more time with him too. Somehow Jimin roped Seokjin into coming with you as well. They waited for you outside until the alterations were done. You couldn’t resist spoiling them while you were out so you took them for waffles. From Seokjin’s stuffed face it was safe to say he enjoyed them.

You had to go back to work after the fitting but Jimin was clinging to you not letting you go, which was how you ended up with the two of them at the final table-reading for the first episode of the Raven Cycle. They both quietly watched the actors delivering their lines. Jimin leaned forward in his seat as he got more and more invested in the scenes, snapping out of it whenever one scene ended and you discussed corrections and suggestions.

The atmosphere was light and friendly. You were professionals and you believed in maintaining a healthy environment of communication and mutual respect that left space for jokes and friendships to develop. The chemistry between the actors was important and you found that when they were friends and had a bond in real life too, it showed.

“Okay, that was great. I liked Ronan’s extra lines, we should keep that in.” The writer next to you wrote it down. “It’s getting late so let’s take a small break for a few minutes and move on to scene fifteen and sixteen and we’re completely done with episode one.” Everyone agreed with you and soon chatter was filling the room. You stretched your arms behind you, your body was complaining after sitting for too many hours.

The snacks and refreshments on the table against the wall were dwindling as the table-reading went on. All the important people in the project were there; the executive producers, the writers, the heads of the various departments and of course all the main actors of the first episode. The room with the large table and the many couches and chairs was large enough for everyone.

Three more days of table reading, which was mainly for revisions, and you would be done, leaving around a week before filming was scheduled to start. Just on time. Despite unfortunate surprises and earthquakes, you were on time. Next week you would be back in the studios standing behind the cameras watching years of work and planning coming to life. The first moments of filming in every movie or TV show whispered to you in silver and gold lines that you couldn’t describe as anything else than magic.

You picked up a bottle of water and a sandwich from the snack table, getting caught up in a short conversation with one of the producers. Your scalp was beginning to hurt from the tight ponytail your hair was trapped in. With a pat on your shoulder, the producer left to find the head of the costume department.

Jimin and Jin were sitting on the smallest couch, away from the table in the middle of the room. Jimin’s ears twitched as you settled on the armrest. You handed him the sandwich.

“For me?”

“You have been looking at it as much as you have been looking at the actors.”

Jimin still didn’t take a bite. “I already ate two.”

“And now you will eat one more.” You nudged the sandwich closer to his face. “They are quite small. I think Will has eaten seven since we started.” You glanced at your assistant, he was talking with two of the actors.

Jimin smiled at you like you were sharing a secret before diving into his sandwich. You opened your water bottle and gulped down half of it in seconds.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? It’s past eight and it will take at least one more hour to finish the last two scenes and wrap everything up.” You had asked them if they wanted to leave three times since you’d arrived and the answer had been the same each time.

“It’s eight?” Jin asked, pulling out his phone from his pocket. You leaned over Jimin to peek at the screen seeing a few texts from Namjoon and Jungkook and notifications from the various apps Jin used. You had texted Namjoon earlier so he wouldn’t worry that Jin and Jimin hadn’t returned home.

“And it will be at least nine by the time I’m done,” you said.

“We’ve been here for three hours. We can wait for you one more.” Jin opened the messages app reading the texts, a smile appearing on his face.

Jimin had eaten more than half of the sandwich, crumbs sticking at the sides of his mouth. “I want to see what happens at the end. Pretty please?”

“We will wait for you,” Jin said. “We don’t have anything better to do,” he added, to which Jimin agreed enthusiastically. You scratched the cat hybrid's ears while he devoured the rest of the sandwich.

What you hadn’t considered before taking them with you was that the table reading would give away many spoilers for the show. Spoilers were the bane of your existence. Not everyone minded them but you disliked them with passion. You had almost strangled Zayn when he had told you a spoiler he had seen on Twitter for the ending of Avengers: Infinity War,  minutes before the movie started. Zayn had been very lucky the lights hadn’t gone out yet. The suspense was one of your favorite parts and that was ruined for you when you knew what would happen.

At least it was the first episode but there was a lot of discussion on how certain parts or pieces of dialogue would connect with later episodes. The fact that it was an adaptation also changed things. You had been adamant about staying true to the original story and keeping in as many scenes from the book as you could. Your additions revolved around character development, the relationships between the characters, and some conflicts that hadn’t been in the book but you had discussed in length with Maggie. In this case, you didn’t know exactly how to define spoilers.

As expected, you finished the table reading twenty minutes past nine. Gathering all your folders from the table, the scripts, and various notes from the writers and producers, you hid them all away in your backpack. Henrietta and the magical forest were coming to life from their voices alone. You could already imagine how captivating it would be on screen.

Jimin was laying his head on Jin’s shoulder with his arm wrapped around the older’s waist. It had taken some time for them to relax in the room full of strangers, some of who hadn’t been subtle about staring. One look from you and their gazes had darted away. It still wasn’t common to have a hybrid, much less three, but you didn’t care how curious they were if they were making Jimin and Jin uncomfortable.

During the first break, early at the table reading, you had been roped into a debate about a possible change in one of the scenes. The two hybrids had kept to themselves, staying quiet and watching. The actress playing Blue had walked up to them with a wide smile and introduced herself. The remaining tension in them was released when she struck up a conversation with them.

“Time to get going,” you said. Jimin looked up at you, blinking drowsily. “Should I tell John to carry you to the car?”

“We’re leaving?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Thankfully yes so you need to get up.” You had wrapped everything up, saying goodbye to everyone and you were ready to go.

Jin kissed Jimin’s blond curls. “Let’s go and get you into an actual bed.” He got up and pulled Jimin with him, the younger hybrid was clinging to his back like a koala from the hallway where you met up with John to the parking lot.

In the car, you looked at them through the rear-view mirror. Jimin’s eyes were closed, laying his head on Jin’s shoulder.

“Hard day?” John asked, moving the gear shift to the left and then up.

“I’m a little afraid that my scenario might be a little boring,” you said glancing behind you. “It’s too early for him to be falling asleep.”

The car started moving, leaving the dimly lit parking lot behind. “He’s not used to being out for that long,” Jin said smoothing down Jimin’s hair with care. Jin cared for you with everything he had, you tried to do the same but it was close to impossible with how busy you were.

“If it’s my scenario though, I need to rewrite that thing from beginning to end.”

John chuckled. “Good luck telling that to the writers and the producers. They’ll love it.”

They’d love it as much as cats loved swimming.

 ♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 You took the day of the gala off. If you went to the gala tired after work, you wouldn’t be able to put a smile on your face and keep it there. It wasn’t so much that the galas were awful but that you felt out of place in them. Your mother had many connections and she would invite the “best” of her world. Some faces had become familiar, a steady fixture in your mother’s guest lists. Some faces you should be able to recognize but you didn’t, resulting in interactions based on pretending.

At the after-parties of award shows and premieres, you were more at ease. The designer dresses and suits were the same, worn by rich and influential people, but it was people you knew and respected. Your skin wasn’t prickling at the tension, lost somewhere between remembering a name or a company and ignoring the jabs at other guests or the rumors spreading like vines.

The last event you had attended was in New York last September, it had been the event of the year according to your mother. Jacob had accompanied you, hugging your mother and shaking hands with your father. He had stayed next to you from the moment you stepped into the place to the moment you got into the car to leave. You had to somewhat agree with your mother. A lot of interesting people were in attendance, famous writers and journalists, and you succeeded in ignoring the less favorable situations.

Your parents had changed a lot, or maybe it was just the circumstances that had changed and the different perspective you had as an adult. You used to cast them as the absentee parents, an overused trope you didn't find much merit in. It was too simple, too straightforward. They didn't disappear from one day to the next, cutting all contact with you. It was more like the times they were there grew fewer and fewer until they had moved permanently to New York by the time you were eight. Your father had been offered a position he couldn't refuse and your mother loved him too much to leave him alone there. She tried, she tried to stay for you but she had been trying to find a reason to leave your hometown since she was a teenager. The penthouses and neat offices fit her far better than the beaches and town squares ever did.

It started as a few weeks at first. Your father would be staying in the city for some meetings and your mother wanted to join him. His job involved a lot of traveling and in most of your memories, he was holding a suitcase. A few weeks turned into a month the next time, then into a few months you had to stay with your aunt and your cousins. After you turned eight, they were coming back only for a few weeks every year.

When you were ten you stopped answering their calls and refused to talk to them. Your mother still tried, even traveled back to be with you. Instead of staying at your house with her, you stayed with your aunt. Your mother left defeated. It took a year for you to speak to them again. Childish, but you couldn't blame your past self. The cracks in your relationship with your parents were still there. As an attempt to prevent them from widening and growing, you at least tried to attend the events your mother invited you to.

Another one to add to the list.

"Does the duck look ready to you?" you asked Jin. Roasted duck wasn't a dish you had experience with but that wasn't the only reason you called for Jin. Being home for the day you had offered to help Jin cook lunch. Cooking helped take your mind off, focusing on the recipe and chatting with Jin.

Jin left the lettuce he was washing in the bowl and dried his hands in a towel. His steps were careful and measured, one of his hands holding on the counter.

"It looks good," he said. "You can take it out."

You opened the oven, pulling back last minute so the heat wouldn't burn your face. "It smells incredible! I think I got ten times hungrier just smelling this."

Jin chuckled but it was strained. "I'm too good at this." He was still holding onto the counter.

"You won't catch me complaining."

He went back to the lettuce in the sink, his bangs falling into his face and covering his eyes. You wrapped the chicken breasts in foil and let them rest for a few minutes. The figs were caramelized and the potatoes fried until golden. That was about it for the main dish.

Jin was cutting the lettuce so you occupied yourself with making the salad dressing. You worked in silence. It wasn't for the lack of anything to say but a flinch from Jin earlier, while you had been talking, had you lowering your voice and then closing your mouth when you were finished with that sentence. It was only for a moment before he turned away, but it was enough for you to notice. You had asked him if he was alright twice and both times the answer had been the same. After that, it was clear he wouldn't tell you anything else regardless of how many times you asked.

A thud echoed in the room followed, not a second after, by the sound of metal clattering on wood. The spoon you used to mix the ingredients of the salad dressing stilled in your hand. Jin had fallen to his knees on the floor, holding the counted with one hand and his head with the other. The knife laid abandoned on the cutting board next to the lettuce.

For a moment your surroundings blurred from the surprise before coming into crystal clear focus. You rushed to Jin's side, who was trying to pull himself back up to his feet.

"I'm alright. I slipped," he said.

"You slipped? Seriously?" You had one arm around his waist and it stayed there as he leaned back against the counter. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just a little dizzy," Jin muttered. That close to him, only a breath away, you could see how pale he was, the dark circles under his eyes standing out against the white of his skin.

"You haven't been alright since we started cooking. You aren't just a little dizzy, that's not how someone is when they're a little dizzy."

Jin turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. "Let it go, please. Only the salad is left. I'll rest after we eat."

"Jin, that's not..." Clueless about how to continue, you pressed your palm to his forehead. In winter your hands were always freezing cold, it didn't matter if the temperature wasn't that low they would turn into popsicles mere seconds after going outside. Only that it wasn’t winter but spring and your hands were as warm as they could be, that’s why it was that much more concerning that his forehead was warmer than it should be under your touch. “You’re burning up. How are you still standing?”

“It isn’t that bad,” Jin said. He wasn’t looking at you.

“It isn’t that bad?” you repeated in disbelief. “Forget about the salad, I’m taking you to your room.”

You were about to turn around when Jin gripped your elbow weakly. “You don’t need to, really, I can finish up here, it isn’t the first time. I can do it.” The sweat that was gathering on his forehead and his tired eyes told a different story.

“You have been cooking while feeling sick?” you asked. Being out of the house almost all day it wouldn’t have been hard to miss and when you came back at night you weren’t that aware of your surroundings, but the other hybrids would have been able to see past Jin’s pretenses.

“Not here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

That’s something you should have expected. You had never met his previous owners but you couldn’t stop yourself from hating them for what they had done to him. Hate was too strong of a word but you didn’t have any other name for the burning in your chest whenever you witnessed how insecure and self-conscious Jin had become of them.

You cupped his cheek in your palm turning his head to face you and you rested your forehead against his, your noses bumping. At the touch his shoulders slumped, his back muscles unraveling under your hand. Jin joked that it was weird that his scent glands weren’t in the same places as other hybrids’ but in strange places like his forehead. You couldn’t agree with him because standing there with your foreheads touching it was just as intimate.

The walk to his room was silent. You opened the door for him and watched him hide under the covers, between the countless pillows and stuffed animals. Before leaving, you placed a kiss on his forehead your lips warming up because of his fever. You wanted to stay there with him and with the way he was holding your hand he wanted the same but the lettuce was waiting for you back in the kitchen and there were five hybrids you had to feed.

Finishing up the meal was a matter of minutes. The dressing for the salad had been made and you only had to finish cutting the lettuce and a few fresh tomatoes before mixing everything in a large bowl. You unwrapped the foil from around the duck breasts and arranged them in plates, adding the figs with the pan juices and the fried potatoes. It looked like something you would order at a five-star restaurant, most of Jin’s cooking did.

The mouth-watering aroma must have drifted downstairs because as you were putting the last touches on the plates two sets of feet were running up the staircase. Jimin looked like he had been lured into the kitchen by some magical force, transfixed on the plates on the counter. He sniffed, making tiny happy noises.

“This smells so good. I’m hungry!” he whined.

Jungkook followed behind, taking a look at the plates and turning to you with pleading eyes. “When are we eating?”

You shook your head at their antics. “I just finished up, you can take them down if you want so stop looking at me like that.”

Jimin pouted, his shoulders raising. “Looking at you like what?”

“Stop that, I know what you’re doing.”

Jimin continued on, batting his eyelashes at you. “What am I doing? Am I not doing good?”

You pinched his cheek, making him giggle. “I thought you were hungry but apparently you aren’t hungry enough if you’re still here instead of taking the food down.” At that Jungkook was quick to take out the large trays and fill them with the plates and bowls.

Jimin went to help before pausing. “Where is Jinnie?”

Jin was always in the kitchen before meals, helping the two youngest carry the trays to the backyard. You didn’t want to worry Jimin, he was very sensitive to how others were feeling. His emotional walls were so thin that your blues and grays bled into his yellow. “He’s in his room resting, he’s feeling a little under the weather today.”

“But…How didn’t we notice anything?” Jimin asked.

You patted his shoulder. “I didn’t either until we were cooking lunch. He just needs to rest and he will be better in no time.” Jimin gazed at the food like it could give him the answers he was looking for, you continued. “The duck is his recipe, he only went to his room after the food was ready.” You didn’t mention how he had collapsed while cutting the lettuce, a knife in his hand and way too many grievous possibilities.

Jungkook picked up the nicest plate, you had made it last and having used the previous six ones as practice it had come out looking the best. “Can I take it to him?” It was well-known that he had a soft spot for Jin, sneaking into his room the nights he was running away chased by guilt. Jin had been the only one he had let in then. But again, they all had a soft spot for each other, it may translate differently into actions but it was the same at the core.

You pulled out a smaller bowl from the cupboard. Let me put some salad in this first.” This was one of the only salads everyone liked, even Jimin who was firmly against eating most greens (Namjoon didn’t like them much either but at least he was trying). You filled a glass with water as well and placed it on the smaller tray Jungkook had prepared. “Don’t wake him up if he’s sleeping, he looked really tired.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Jungkook promised picking up the tray and leaving for Jin’s room.

Jimin went back to arranging the plates on the trays. “He’ll be alright soon, right?”

“Of course he will,” you reassured him. “In no time he will be shouting at Jungkook for eating his ingredients and having fights with any insects that find their way to the garden. Now, let’s take these down because having the food right in front of me and not eating it is killing me.”

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 Jin had a terrible headache, that’s where everything had started. He had woken up and instantly wanted to roll to his other side and fall asleep again covering his head with the blanket. His eyes refused to stay open and everything around him was like he was in a fog. His body wasn’t his own, it was like watching someone else execute each move he commanded, like he had lost parts of his senses. Everything was duller.

Powering through, he got up and made his bed, throwing the blankets over it with less precision than usual and arranging his stuffed animals against the pillows. It was your day off because of the gala and he had to make breakfast for you and the other hybrids.

It was enough that he got a few more hours of sleep as a result of the lack of your morning schedule. He could deal with the world being a little blurry at the edges and his body not cooperating every few minutes.

He made an easy breakfast for the day, which was a little disappointing when you were able to sit and enjoy it for once, but he was physically unable to do anything more. Sitting down would help. After breakfast, he would lay down on the couch and he would be better in no time.

Breakfast came and went and in a few hours, he had to start making lunch. Your offer to help was a godsend with his feet feeling like jelly. He thought he had it under control, that he could get through lunch then go to his room and hide under the covers where no one could see him. Until his legs gave up on him.

The knife slipped out of his hand and he watched its slow descent to the cutting board. In a blink he was on his knees, he blinked again and you were next to him helping him up. Hybrids weren’t supposed to get sick, scientists had engineered their whole being down to the color of their hair and eyes, they could strengthen their immune system as well. His past owners used to say that it was in his head because he was living with humans, that if he got sick the center must have given them a problematic hybrid and that couldn’t be true. He had paid a lot for Jin.

The door opened just enough for you to poke your head in. “Jin?” you whispered, quiet enough to not wake him up if he had been sleeping but loud enough for his hearing to pick up while awake. He lowered the blankets from his face. “Hey, did you finish with your food?”

“Yeah, it’s…” He pointed to the tray on the nightstand, he didn’t have enough strength to take it to the desk. You didn’t comment on the food that was left on the plates.

“Are you feeling any better?” you asked. His head still hurt and the heaviness of his body didn’t subside, but it was much better than when he had been standing so he nodded. “Do you need anything else? I brought some medicine if you want, I read that it’s alright for hybrids to take.” Despite the pain and the weariness of his body, he smiled at you and your research. The way you cared about them was endearing. You pulled out a packet from your back pocket.

“I think I’ll take one.” The constant drumming behind his temples and the back of his head was getting too much. It was so bad it wouldn’t let him sleep.

“I’ll go get some water for you.” You left the packet on the nightstand and picked up the tray with the leftovers.

Jin rolled to his back staring at the ceiling. He didn’t get sick often and he hated how his body was betraying him. You returned with a glass filled with water in one hand and a jug in the other.

“There you go,” you said handing him the glass. You opened the medicine packet and pressed a white tablet out. It was light in his palm, almost as if it wasn’t there. He put it in his mouth and washed it down with water. “You’ll feel better in no time.” You stroked his hair and he had to hold himself back from purring. Being sick he craved affection more than ever before.

“Don’t come too close, you’ll get sick too.”

You didn’t pull back. “Then I’ll have a reason to stay at home. It doesn’t sound so bad.” You tugged at the blanket. “Fancy some company?” Jin scooted to the side, letting you slip in next to him. Something inside him rejoiced at having you in his nest with him. It was ridiculous, having the need to nest was ridiculous, but he couldn’t suppress it. You turned around to face him, your head on a light blue pillow you had picked up from the pile. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

In the absence of words, he nodded his head. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You weren’t wearing makeup today in anticipation of the heavy makeup you would have to wear for the gala. The shadows under your eyes, concealed any other day, were threatening to spill over the rest of your face. The late nights had been many in the past few days, making up for the breaks you were taking. More and more he came to realize that work was your life and you were like a fish escaping water pushing it back.

You didn’t speak, basking in the silent company of each other. Jin let his worries go and, thanks to the medicine, his headache got duller until he couldn’t feel it. He didn’t notice when he fell asleep, waking up to voices.

“…feeling better, the medicine must have kicked in. His temperature has gone back to normal too,” you whispered.

“Okay, that’s good. Our Jinnie is strong,” the other voice said and heat traveled up to the top of Jin’s ears. The voice was unmistakably Namjoon’s and it was so warm Jin wanted to wrap it around himself and never let go. “I think we woke him up.”

“Oh no,” you complained, still whispering. “Jin?”

He opened his eyes, abandoning the comfort of the familiar darkness. You leaning on your forearm peering at him. His heart was beating faster.

“We woke you up, didn’t we?” you asked, looking guilty.

“It’s alright.” He could hear how rough his voice was from sleep. “What time is it?”

“Five,” you said.

He had been sleeping for more than three hours.

Namjoon took a step forward from the door. “I brought you some tea and biscuits,” he said, placing the tray on the now-empty nightstand.

Jin sat up on the bed with his back against the headboard. “Thank you. Can you…?” You picked up the steaming mug and handed it to him, holding it carefully so he wouldn’t burn himself. The plate of biscuits was placed on his lap over the blankets. It was a warm day but the air-conditioning was on in Jin’s room, the weight of the blankets over him promised safety and he didn’t want to be sweating from the heat.

“I’ll be going then,” Namjoon said with a small smile, the two of you exchanging a look.

“Wait.” Namjoon stopped in his tracks. Jin blamed his impulsiveness on the part of him that was controlled by the sugar-glider’s nature. Namjoon shouldn’t be leaving. Namjoon was pack and he should be with him when he wasn’t well, he should be taking care of Jin. One followed the other and it didn’t listen to logic. But he was tired and although the headache was gone, his head was still hazy, so he gave in. “Can you stay?”

The soft smile on Namjoon’s face was enough to wipe away any of his lingering doubts. “Of course I can.” Jin pulled up the blankets inviting him in. Namjoon pulled him closer bringing his forehead to his. The mug shook in Jin’s hold, you covered his hand with yours steading it. Jin realized it wasn’t only his hands shaking as Namjoon scented him tenderly. He felt so weak between the two of you.

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  The makeup artist asked you to close your eyes again to finish your eyeliner. Your makeup had to compliment your dress, like you were a model on the runway and your purpose was to sell the design. You had to admit that it looked beautiful so far, the gold eyeshadow and the dramatic eyeliner. She completed the look with a matte red lipstick while the hairstylist was releasing the last loose curl from the curling wand. You looked like someone out of a movie and tonight you would have to own that.

They helped you put on the dress like you were incapable of doing it on your own. In these cases, everything had to be perfect, including the most mundane of things. The jewelry was modest as not to take the attention away from the dress but enhance the look. A golden necklace with a ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds to decorate the skin the plunging neckline left bare, small diamond earrings, and golden bracelets.

Half an hour left before the gala and you were ready. The charm was arriving a little late so you had to wait before leaving. The stylists took their leave but you stayed at the fitting room/styling section of the closet, which was right under the actual master closet.

The dress fit you like a glove, bringing attention to all the right areas and burying any imperfections. It was the kind of Cinderella transformation the protagonists in older movies used to go through before getting the guy, but it happened all the time to you. A spy in an action movie, a confident heroine knowing how to use her looks, a girl going to a party to have fun and get drunk, that’s more along the lines of the characters you liked to imagine yourself as. You were far from being any of those characters but it was fun to daydream sometimes.

One last look in the mirror and you climbed up the spiral staircase to your closet, turning off the lights behind you. The designer you had met had been pleasant and your conversations hadn’t been awkward. If the rest of the guests, or at least the majority, were like him then the night could be fun.

The hybrids were all in the living room, even Hoseok and Yoongi. Yoongi wasn’t sitting far from them, in a separate sphere, but next to Jimin who was pointing at something in a book. They all looked at you when you came in, the back of the dress sweeping the floor behind you.

“How does it look?” you asked, doing a twirl. The response was delayed by a few moments.

Namjoon snapped out of it first, coming closer to you and taking your hand. “You look beautiful.” He leaned in for your neck before his face scrunched up in displeasure.

“What?” you asked.

He sniffed at the air. “You…”

“Oh, oh,” you said in realization. “It’s the perfume, it’s quite strong, isn’t it? It’s a Christmas gift from my mother, she said she really liked it so I thought I would wear it for her.”

Namjoon tamed his expression but the frown didn’t disappear. “It’s a little overwhelming. It overpowers everything else.” The perfume was too much for you too, it wasn’t surprising that it was too much for the keen noses of the hybrids. The perfume you wore day to day in spring was a lot lighter and you didn’t put on a lot. You had never stopped to think about how perfumes would affect the hybrids.

“I’ll be sure to not wear it again then,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“That isn’t what I meant.” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck. “You can wear it if you like it. It’s just a little much.”

“Well,” you looked at him and the other hybrids conspiratorially, “it isn’t my favorite, either, and if it affects you like that why would I keep wearing it?” Namjoon’s face smoothed out and you noticed Hoseok looking at you with amazement.

You opened the leather clutch and put in your phone and your keys. Your lipstick and powder were already inside along with a pack of tissues. It didn’t fit any more things.

“I’ll be going now. I’m fashionably late enough.” Before going, Jungkook and Jimin kissed you on each cheek careful not to ruin your makeup. Jin had fallen asleep again and none of you were willing to wake him up.

The night could become difficult so you ignored Yoongi’s eyes on you. You didn’t need any more people judging you.

A limousine was waiting for you outside, limousines were practically part of the dress code in these events. John wasn’t with you this time, you had given him the night off. These kinds of events starred in his nightmares, standing in the corner all night not saying a word. That’s how they kept up the illusion. Regardless of how many times you told him you didn’t care about it, he would follow what was expected of him.

The bright lights blinded you when you arrived. Everyone seemed to want to take a look at you. Your heels sunk into the red carpet at the entrance hall, large paintings in golden frames hanging from the walls. You were led up a grand staircase to the hall the gala was taking place. And so the night began…

You listened through speeches about fashion and the vision of the fashion industry and each individual designer. A few parts were quite interesting, but most of them failed to do anything more than repeat the same old ideas again and again. However, the champagne did make everything a little more tolerable. Your mother had been very happy to see you there and she had told you at least three times how beautiful you were. Your father smiled at you, a smile that looked way too political to be for his daughter, the same smile he would put on when greeting the president.

After the speeches were finished, your mother linked your elbows. It was time for the introductions. You put on your camera smile and shook more hands than you ever did at work. The compliments on your work were many, which ones were genuine was a mystery. But it did feel good when the daughter of one of your father’s associates told you how much she loved the finale of season 4 of Paper Hearts and asked you about Six of Crows.

You said goodbye to an older couple and your mother led you to the buffet. A sculpture of a man pinning fabrics on a mannequin stood proudly in the middle, surrounded by plates of food so perfect that it looked more fake than the decorative food pieces you used on set.

Your mother took another flute of champagne from a waiter. “Mr. Jones will be retiring soon but his son doesn’t want to take over the company. It causes a lot of family drama. I heard they only exchange a few words when they meet but Mr. Jones isn’t backing down.” You had no idea what company they had or who their son was but you nodded. “Ah, I wanted to ask you. You didn’t say anything about adopting hybrids.”

Your hand stilled before you could taste the hors d' oeuvres that looked like a sandwich but was too fancy to call it that. “Hybrids?” you repeated.

“I didn’t know you were interested in them,” your mother continued, unaware of how tense you had become. “Certainly not interested enough to adopt four. Are you making a collection?” She laughed at her joke but you only felt ill.

“No, I wouldn’t say that.” You took a bite of the food, trying to swallow it down. You had lost your appetite.

Your mother sipped on her champagne. “That would be a unique one, it could be showcased.” The churning in your stomach got worse. You left the piece that looked like a sandwich aside.

“How did you learn of it?”

“Don’t you read any magazines? It was front-page news.” You had expected that the information would be published sooner or later, you hadn’t been exactly hiding it, but sooner or later was in the future not now. “You should have told me, I would have looked for some high-quality places to buy them from. There are some very beautiful exotic pieces I have seen. Mrs. Anderson, do you remember her? She couldn’t make it this time but she was at the charity event last September.” You didn’t remember her but you nodded again. “She has such a cute chinchilla hybrid and he’s so well-trained too. I hope yours were trained well, I heard it’s difficult to train them yourself. Where did you adopt them from?”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. “An adoption center in Los Angeles,” you lied easily. Spending hours and hours every day with actors, instructing them about how each scene would seem more natural, you had picked up a few tricks. “I just really liked them and they were already a pack, I didn’t want to break them up.”

Your mother arched a single perfectly-drawn eyebrow, a skill you had sadly not inherited. “A pack? Does that actually exist? Dear, the center must have been trying to give you four hybrids instead of one. Pack,” she tried out the word and she didn’t particularly like the results. “That certainly sounds like some kind of con. What are they? Are all of them wolves?”

“No, they aren’t all wolves. And it was three hybrids, I adopted the other one later from Tennessee with Taylor.”

Taylor’s name brought a spark to your mother. “Oh, how is Taylor? Such a sweet girl, I should have invited her. I will next time.” Your mother had met Taylor exactly once during one of the few of your movie premieres she had actually attended. “Which one did you adopt from there?”

You gritted your teeth, debating how much information was wise to give your mother. “Jin, he’s a sugar glider hybrid.”

That seemed to please her. “Sugar glider? That sounds fancy. I would like to see him up close.” Like you would ever allow that to happen. “He must be a rare breed.”

“He is.”

“Of course, I should have expected that my daughter would decide on a rare breed,” she said as if she was congratulating herself. “I insist you bring him to the next event. I was never that interested in hybrids, too much work, but one would look good in photos.”

“Yeah, I guess he would.” You took a deep breath, it wasn’t the time to throw a tantrum like you were five years old again or puke all over your expensive dress and shoes.

The expression on your mother���s face grew somber. “But four hybrids are a lot, I don’t think I know anyone who owns that many.” She twirled the flute in her hand, waves of the golden liquor hitting the glass and bubbles rising to the surface. “After what happened with Jacob I understand you have been feeling lonely, but hybrids aren’t good substitutes for human company, dear. You can’t rely on them as you relied on him or another man.”

A waiter offered you a glass of champagne from a golden tray. You couldn’t drink too much and risk your tongue loosening but you could allow yourself one more glass to get through this. “I’m not trying to replace him. They aren’t some kind of rebound.”

By her pinched expression, she didn’t believe you. “It’s alright to look for company somewhere else when you feel lonely. I don’t want you to think I’m judging your choices, you are an adult and free to make your own decisions but I’m your mother and I’m worried. You and Jacob were together for so long, we were sure he was the one for you. He was so nice and he took care of you. Your father and I were so happy for you.”

“Not all good relationships last. People change, they grow apart.”

“That’s true. It’s difficult getting out of a relationship after being together for so many years and getting back to your feet. That’s why I understand. I understand that you don’t want to be alone right now but don’t put all of your energy into hybrids. It just isn’t the same. Whatever some people like to say, hybrids are hybrids. They are different from us, they are on a different level. You can’t have the same connection with someone you own.”

Her words continued ringing in your mind for the rest of the night. Your father soon called you to introduce you to one of his colleagues, a successful businessman and politician you had never heard of. The glass of champagne was replaced by another one. You promised yourself it was the last. The owner of a luxurious brand talked with your mother about his plan to expand to more countries and the rehearsed and repeated vision to connect the world through fashion.

You peered at the other guests, all mingling, talking, and laughing. A man only a few feet away from you slapped a girl’s ass. You couldn’t believe your eyes, stuff like that didn’t happen at an event like this. You expected a scene, shouting and screaming and everything in between. Nothing happened. The man that had his arm around her waist only laughed. That’s when you noticed the black fluffy ears on top of her head, they were the same color as her hair and easy to miss. She didn’t have a tail. A silver collar with blue stones the same shade as her dress was secured around her neck. Her shoulders were tense and her head lowered.

In any other situation, any other time, you would have done something. You would have walked up to them and said something, anything you could think of on the spot, even talked to her, made a few minutes more tolerable. You did none of those things. Your parents were there and you had avoided embarrassing them all your life.

The guilt was eating you up, wrapping around all your organs and squeezing, hissing, and calling for your attention, not letting you forget. You had done nothing. If someone had touched your hybrids like that you would have cut their hands off. But that hadn’t been your hybrid, it hadn’t been your place. It hadn’t been your place like it hadn’t been your place to adopt Jin and go against his owner, like it hadn’t been your place to get involved with Namjoon’s pack or Yoongi and Hoseok for that matter. Maybe you had been tricking yourself all along, hiding your selfishness and fear behind the pretense of “not my place”.

Your mother was wrong, you hadn’t been looking for company when you and Jacob broke up. On the contrary, you disregarded everything except work, distancing yourself from all of your friends. It was easy with how busy you were at the time. You would have continued hiding in the Castle and spent your break alone if you hadn’t asked John to stop the car that night. They were what you didn’t know you needed. You had to stop being alone first to realize how lonely you had been.

You couldn’t go back to living like that, waking up and returning to an empty house, having no warm meal and warmer hugs waiting for you. That’s what your life had been like for the longest time and you wondered how you used to live like that. The hybrids were so tangled up in your life you couldn’t find where each thread ended or started. They merged and divided, connecting you all in ways you couldn’t describe.

Taylor had asked you about any crushes when you had been in Virginia, everyone was expecting you to find a new boyfriend after six months or at least start dating but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. No one had piqued your interest and it wasn’t for lack of meeting new people. It would feel wrong going on a date with someone when the hybrids were waiting for you back home. And that’s where the problem was; it shouldn’t feel wrong. Many people who had hybrids went on dates, couples adopted hybrids together and it should be like that for you. But it wasn’t.

Overthinking was one of your talents and you had avoided like you were being chased by wild dogs. You weren’t one to simply go with the flow but Namjoon’s lips on your own had changed your mind. You were too afraid of losing that that you hadn’t allowed yourself to analyze what you were doing, what that meant for you. Namjoon was your hybrid, you may not act like it or think of him like that but you were his owner in the papers. And it wasn’t only Namjoon, the way you cared about the hybrids was different from the way you felt about anyone else. It was all-consuming and too bright. You felt more for them than you had ever felt about Jacob and that was dangerous.

You excused yourself from the event as soon as it was proper for you to do so. Tomorrow morning you had to wake up early for work and you couldn’t stay late into the night. It was true but not the reason you left. Your mother hugged you and thanked you for coming, inviting you once again to their house in New York. She had been inviting you every time you met and you hadn’t once been to their house.

The window of the limousine was cold against your cheek, your foundation staining the glass. Maybe your mother wasn’t that wrong. You didn’t dare put a name to your feelings but you couldn’t deny that they were there. Were you really that lonely that your mind was playing tricks on you? Groaning, you knocked your head against the glass, hard enough to hear a small thud. You shouldn’t be thinking of them like that, it was wrong, so wrong.

Was it the way the world viewed hybrids messing with you, bleeding into your subconscious? They were presented as the answer to any and all desires, transformed into wet dreams. The media had the power to influence behaviors and thoughts little by little without the person noticing. You had thought you were too clever to fall victim to their molded reality. You knocked your head against the glass again, the driver must have been thinking you were crazy.

The limousine parked in front of the Castle. On other nights the lights would have been turned off by now but tonight they were all shinning, welcoming you home. You fished your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door. The lights were on in the living room in the lowest setting.

“Welcome.” You jumped, almost tumbling to the floor at being startled while taking off your heels.

“Every. Single. Time.” Namjoon laughed quietly. “How do you do this every single time?”

“I was already here, I couldn’t make any more noise.” He got up from the couch, extending a hand to you. You took it and he guided you to the couch. “Did you have a good time?”

The dress wrinkled as you pulled one foot under you but you couldn’t care less. “It was… bearable. I didn’t-” You let your head fall on the back of the couch. Seeing Namjoon up close after the night you had, looking at you with soft eyes like you held the sky in the palm of your hand, everything was coming back. What were you doing here? Your heart shouldn’t be racing like that when you were thinking about the wolf hybrid, your hands shouldn’t be itching to touch him.

“You’re here now, you can relax,” he said trailing his hand from your arm to your shoulder and up your neck. Goosebumps raised on your bare skin. “You’re home.” His breath tickled your face, his lips were so close and you wanted, you wanted… You pushed him back.

“I should go take off my makeup. I’m exhausted.”

Namjoon frowned but he didn’t question you. “Okay,” he said softly. “Your bed must be calling your name.”

“It is,” you said slipping away from him. The absence of his touch left a void inside you. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You went to your room with a heavy heart, leaving Namjoon alone in the living room.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 You found the offending magazine in a store close to the studios. Copies of it filled a whole stand. The cover was a photo of you with Jin and Jimin in front of the waffle place the day you had taken them with you to the table-reading. It really was front-page news.

In A Stunning Display of Power And Wealth Y/N Y/L/N Adopts Four Hybrids

Straight to the point, every word chosen precisely to attract attention. A display of power and wealth. Of course, that’s what sold copies. That’s what people wanted to read; how one of the richest and most famous directors of your generation was showing off their wealth and power. Hybrids continued to be a sign of money. To adopt four hybrids meant you were crazy rich, but people already knew that when similar headlines had swept all tabloids just a year ago, brought on by the outrageous purchase of the Castle.

Four pages were dedicated to you and your hybrids, completed with more photos of the same day and quotes from “insider sources”. You closed the magazine and went to the counter. The cashier scanned it without glancing at your face, which saved you some trouble. You almost thought you would have to re-enact the comedic scene of the cashier looking at the magazine, then at you, then back at the magazine, then back at you like a robot that had stopped working. You shoved the magazine in your bag, self-conscious of anyone seeing it on you, and went back to the studios.

Filming would begin very soon, which meant you were swamped with work. Everything had to be perfect because that’s the kind of director you were. A perfectionist. If it also gave you an excuse not to think about the hybrids and all of the implications of the flutter of your heart when you were with them, you weren’t complaining. And if you were a little more distant, that could easily be attributed to your work too.

Sleepless nights became too common, your head was too loud and Jimin laying next to you only made it louder.

Filming started and your schedule changed. Most days you still woke up early and returned late at night, but because each scene required a specific time of the day there were nights you came back hours after midnight. You had promised the hybrids you would take them with you on set but every morning you got in the car alone.

Fourth day of filming and unexpected rain forced you to cancel the outside shooting. You only had outside filming that day. You rushed to make adjustments and switch to scenes that could be filmed inside the studios. The crew would need time to prepare everything for the filming so you had been left with the morning off.

You unlocked the door, hiding inside the house from the rain. It hadn’t rained like that in a long time. The heavens had opened up and the rain refused to stop coming down like it was determined to turn Los Angeles into a gigantic lake. Your shoes left puddles wherever you stepped, you would have to mop the floors later. You took them off and placed them by the door. They had suffered the most, the rest of yourself was relatively dry with the exception of the lower part of your pants.

No one was attacking you with hugs as you closed the umbrella someone from the staff had handed you, the hybrids mustn’t have heard you coming in. If they had heard you, you would have had an armful of Jimin and Jungkook by now.

“Oh, hey Yoongi,” you greeted the panther hybrid coming out of the kitchen. Your tactic with Yoongi was to act like you were talking to someone who didn’t strongly dislike you. The scowls and the sneers had decreased turning into a plastic sort of indifference and that’s what made you pause. His scowl could cut you like a knife. “Are you alright?”

Yoongi stalked past you. “What are doing back?” he asked harshly.

You were taken aback for a moment. He hadn’t spoken like that to you since before you had left for Virginia. “I have the morning off because of the rain. Did something happen here?”

“Why do you care?” Yoongi stood by the staircase, his black tail unmoving behind him.

“Why would I not care?” you shot back. The rain had already ruined your plans for the day and caused you enough stress to last you for a few more, you didn’t have enough energy to deal with Yoongi. “Seriously, what happened? Is Hoseok alright?”

A low growl vibrated through the room, you almost took a step back at the threatening sound. “Don’t you speak his name. Was caring for him another way to make you feel powerful? Is this some kind of sick way for you to gain power over someone?”

You were too tired to handle this delicately as you should, you recognized that and proceeded to ignore it. “What the hell is this about? I just came back from work.”

Yoongi scoffed, it was an ugly sound. “Because you have brainwashed everyone else, don’t think I don’t see you for who you are. Have you sold our story yet? About how you saved Hoseok and nursed him back to health? I am sure that will sell many magazines. Show them all how all-powerful you are.”

Through the haze of the day, the words started to click. “You found the magazine.”

“You didn’t try to hide it.” You couldn’t remember where you had left it, it had probably ended up in the stack of magazines under the living room table. “I knew no one would take four hybrids in out of the goodness of their hearts. Did it work? Was it worth it or are you already getting bored? Maybe you should adopt a couple more. Make more headlines.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you gritted out.

“That’s what you’d like to think,” Yoongi sneered. “All of you are the same. Hiding in your mansions and looking for the next chance to brandish your name. It’s a constant chase of power and standing, isn’t it? And you’ll use anyone you’ll find in your way to climb higher. I know how it is. You can’t fool me. I’ve been dealing with people like you for years!”

Your pants and your wet socks were sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Your head was buzzing. It hurt because that’s everything you had been trying to avoid. Everything you had promised yourself not to become. Everything you had criticized your parents and their circle for. You weren’t like them. You had never been like them.

“You don’t know me, don’t pretend you do,” you said forcefully. “Do you really think that’s how magazines work? I just call them and tell them I want them to write about me? Put me on the front cover? That’s not it. Even if it was, why would I do that? I couldn’t care less about the power-plays you’re talking about. I’m a director and my work speaks for itself. I don’t need magazines to brandish my name because my movies and my shows are more than enough. The paparazzi saw the chance and they took it. Their goal is to sell and their headlines showcase exactly that; what people would buy. I never hid the fact that I adopted hybrids but I wasn’t flaunting it to the media either.”

“Why should I believe you?” Yoongi growled.

You sighed, a sound full of frustration. “Frankly, I don’t see what else I could do to make you believe me! I tended to Hoseok. I didn’t ask any questions. I tried hard not to cross any boundaries and to make you feel welcome. What more do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi said simply. “Nothing you do can change my mind.”

It was like a stone dropped in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have expected anything else. Yoongi had been through a lot, that much was clear, but it was unfair that he was taking out everything on you. You were paying for the scars other humans had inflicted on him.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“It’s pretty clear,” you muttered. “Alright, I can’t change your mind, I won’t even try. I know how to pick my battles. But if you really despise me so much then why bother? Nothing you say will change anything. Are you trying to uncover some hidden truth about me and how evil I am? Then what?”

The fur on Yoongi’s tail and ears stood on end. “I don’t care. I don’t care about you, about what you have done and what you will do as long as we’re gone from here. I don’t care for your charity or your pity. Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted to be here in the first place?”

You swallowed, willing your heart rate to calm down. “Then tell Hoseok and Jimin yourself. The keys are by the door.”

You didn’t wait for Yoongi to say anything else, turning around and locking yourself in your room. You laid down on your bed, your hands gripping your hair. The exhaustion this time was beyond physical, beyond mental. Your hands retreated from your hair, sliding down your cheeks. Your fingers were wet.

Later when Jimin and Jungkook knocked on the door, you had to open the door or risk worrying them. They jumped on the bed and snuggled close to you. You held your phone waiting for the call to go to the studios.

You didn’t face any new problems with filming. The actors were all incredible, seemingly one with their characters. You did a lot of filming at 300 Fox Way, the psychic’s house with its mystic aura and weirdly compelling assortment of objects. You instructed the actors, talked with the crew, and analyzed the script down to each comma. Focusing on anything other than Yoongi’s words and your hybrids had turned into an art form.

The sleepless nights didn’t cease, you and the moonlight had become good friends. Jimin’s visits to your room thinned out. He had noticed you pulling away. You didn’t hug him anymore or kissed his forehead before falling asleep, you couldn’t come to terms with doing that after everything that had happened. You had thought that maybe you would sleep better alone but that had been proved false soon after.

You got out of bed for the fourth night in a row. Every position was uncomfortable. Keeping your steps light you left the room. The large house was eerie at night, the living room area with its glass walls looked endless, combining the actual living room, the dining room, and what the real estate agents had called the family room that was really just another living room.

You couldn’t stay in your room on nights like these, it was too contained. The night air on your skin sent shivers down your frame as you walked out on the balcony. It was two days before the full moon and its glow illuminated the world.

What had you gotten yourself into? You wished you could go back to that morning and decline your mother’s invitation to the gala. Maybe, just maybe, then you would be able to sleep, your head wouldn’t be fighting you at every turn, at every chance.

Little pieces of moonlight shimmered and danced on the lake. The calmness of the world was a stark contrast to the mess in your head. You remembered how Jungkook had looked at the lake in awe that very first night, you had noticed then that he looked at Jimin the same way. You wondered how you looked at them and if anyone had noticed.

The moon had no answers for you.

Two golden eyes were looking up at you from the garden, they shone like the fires that had been extinguished earlier. Namjoon tilted his head, inviting you down. A weird sense of deja vu took over. You had lived something very similar before, a night that had changed so much.

You shouldn’t go. You should stay where you were, alone and safe, away from fluttering heartbeats and dangerous warmth. But the night had its way of calling out the risky nature of people. The thrill was so much more enticing when darkness ruled.

Climbing down the stairs, you kept your steps quiet. You never knew which sound would wake up the hybrids. Namjoon was standing by the flower bushes close to the curtain of vines that lead into the forest. He was wearing a dark blue pair of pajama pants and a simple black T-shirt.

“What are you doing awake so late?” you whispered, like everything around you had ears.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You shook your head. “I have trouble sleeping, remember?”

Namjoon had caught you a few times wandering the house at night, he was the only one who knew that a lot of nights sleep didn’t come to you willingly. His own nightly adventures were more complicated.

“Why are you awake?” you asked him again. “Please don’t tell me you smelled distress or something again or I’ll freak.”

Namjoon chuckled, you had missed it. Keeping your distance meant you only saw them for barely two hours every day. They all tried to not make too much noise with you in the constant mood of ‘tired and gloomy’.

“No, that’s not it.” He looked up, over the trees. “It’s the full moon.”

“You have to be kidding me. Do you turn into a wolf too?”

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender, his dimples on full display. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I couldn’t sleep either and I like being outside at night like this. It’s peaceful.”

You couldn’t disagree with that. There was something alluring about the quiet of the night. You would describe yourself more as a morning person than a night owl but both of them were true, waking up early for work then staying up late for it too.

“Are you alright?” The smile had fallen from his lips.

You squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Filming takes a lot out of me.”

Namjoon sighed. “Are you sure that’s all there is? You have been acting differently, did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

You knew they would notice but you had hoped they would think it was because of your work. Work did take a lot out of you but it also used to be the reason you were so much happier returning home.

“It has been going on for too long. You don’t spend any time outside your room or your office if it isn’t to eat. You are avoiding us. Jimin and Jungkook stopped scenting you because they think they’re making you uncomfortable.”

“It isn’t- They aren’t making me uncomfortable. I’m just tired from work and I don’t-” you tried to deny it but you fell short of excuses.

“You were working before too, but it wasn’t like this,” he pointed out. “You were tired then too. Some nights you came back and I could smell the exhaustion around you like a disease. But you smiled when Jimin and Jungkook ran up to you and didn’t let you go, you laughed at Jin laughing at his own jokes. You came to me when it got too loud here.” He pointed to your head.

“We weren’t filming then.” It was a weak attempt but you had to make it.

Namjoon regarded you carefully. Beams of moonlight got tangled in his gray hair turning it silver. He looked at home right there at that moment, close to the trees with the moon shining on him. He was every bit of magic you had ever witnessed.

“This started before filming did. I knew there was something wrong when you came back from the gala. Something happened there,” Namjoon concluded. “I should have come with you.”

You shook your head vigorously. Imagining him next to you while your mother spoke about hybrids like that was torture. “No, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have been with me.” You paused to compose yourself. “It wasn’t good, it was really bad actually. It wasn’t the gala itself, there some interesting people and… My mother…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t think I like my parents very much,” you admitted.

It was hard to say after years of half-hearted attempts at mending your relationship with them. All those years apart you had become very different people. You had trouble remembering what they were like before they left you in your aunt’s care. You couldn’t see any traces of them in yourself, you didn’t enjoy what they enjoyed, your interests and priorities, the way you viewed the world were very different.

In the past few days, you had grown to hate your mother’s voice in your head but you had a feeling that it had been much longer than that. The only difference was that before, you had been able to ignore it.

Namjoon came closer, his hand touching your palm waiting for you to make the first move. You took his hand in yours, laying your head on his chest. “That’s alright. You don’t have to like them, no one is forcing you to.”

“But they are my parents.”

He stroked your back gently. “It doesn’t matter, that isn’t enough of a reason.”

“They aren’t bad people.”

“They don’t need to be bad people for you to dislike them.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, taking in his presence. You had missed being in his arms so much, like an ache that couldn’t go away.

He stopped stroking your back, cupping your cheek and pulling back so you were facing each other. “I’m always here for you. I don’t care about anything else but seeing you happy. I’m here.”

“I missed you,” you admitted like it was a secret.

Namjoon smiled softly. “I missed you too.” His thumb caressed your lower lip. There was a tingling sensation all over your skin. “Can I?” he asked just like the very first time.

You let out a shuddering breath. “Should we be doing this?”

“Do you want to?” he asked carefully.

You bit your lip before nodding. He leaned down connecting your lips. It was soft and careful, all the longing and hurt of the past days poured into the kiss. You pulled him closer and he came willingly. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

An awful laugh cut through the night. You pulled away from Namjoon like you had been burnt. Yoongi was one with the night, dark like a shadow.

“So this is it? Is this why you adopted them all? So you can have your pick when you’re in the mood?” The expression on his face was cruel, twisted up in disgust.

Namjoon growled, his sharp canines shinning in the moonlight. In that moment, Namjoon looked more dangerous than ever before. “Shut your mouth.”

“I see she has turned you into her dog. How long did it take to tame you?”

You held Namjoon back before he could lunge at the panther. You were afraid that if you let him go, there would blood on their clothes. “Don’t.”

Yoongi took a tense step forward. “That’s right, listen to your owner. Is that what she has turned all of you into? Her toys? Just for a roof over your head and food?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Namjoon growled. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Yoongi clenched his fists. There was anger and something else you couldn’t see in the night amidst your panic. “I knew it. I knew no one did what you did without any kind of agenda. Seems like the magazine was right, at least in part. You can’t fool me, even if you managed to fool everyone else.”

With that he was gone, like he was never there.

You couldn’t breathe. Your hand was still wrapped around Namjoon’s wrist and you couldn’t breathe. You counted in your head. One, two, three…

When Namjoon tried to touch your shoulder, you pulled away. “I’m going back to my room,” you said. Your voice sounded shaky to your own ears. Namjoon called out to you but you didn’t stop. He didn’t try to touch you again.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

[difx-writes]

Wildest Dreams - In the Death of the Night

Masterlist

After turning 10 and losing her soulmate, Marinette would imagine how Damian Wayne would be.

Would he be tall or short? Did he have blond hair or brown or did he dyed it? Would he be shy or have a bold personality? Perhaps he was an artistic soul, a poet, a writer? Or would he be a baker like her parents? Why did his last name change?

The wonders and questions took over her mind for days with no end.

On good days, she imagined how he would interact with her friends, how her parents would take him in as their own son, how he would fit into her life.

She liked to talk to him, pretending there, alive, with her. She asked his opinion on what to wear, how she should do her hair, what colors with go well with the design. He was her voice of reason. Talking to "Damian" brought a smile to her face, even when she knew she was deluding herself.

On bad days, she pretended he was right there with her, comforting her, encouraging her, whispering that everything would be alright... Sometimes it worked and she felt better the next days but most times she felt bitter, she felt robbed of a future where he was in her life.

The realization that the person she was supposed to share her soul with was no longer alive, that his death was painful, gruesome, and... lonely... It always ended with her taking a few days to prevent a breakdown...

When she turned 13, Hawkmoth appeared and Marinette became Ladybug, the hero of Paris.

Soon after, Marinette stopped talking with "Damian", she couldn't afford to wonder about him anymore. She couldn't afford the bliss of her own delusions. She couldn't afford to let herself grief and fall pray to Hawkmoth's manipulation.

As she couldn't fail Paris and its citizens, Damian Wayne mostly disappeared from her life.

But there were days when her “friends” demanded a lot from her, akumas were too violent and draining and everything was just too much, those the godawful days.

On godawful days she wished Damian was there to take her away to a place she could feel she belonged. Away from everything to a place she could call a home.

_______

Most nights Damian recalls a voice talking to him during the time he was dead.

His soulmate, he supposed, talked to him regularly, she started her day asking his opinion on her outfit for the day, when at home she would tell him how her day went, what she did with her friends, what she learned in class, etc...

At first, Damian was pretty much annoyed that he couldn't "rest in peace" with all the noise pollution but after a few weeks, he slowly started to tolerate her talking to him.

Unfortunately, he couldn't talk to her nor see her very clearly so it was a pleasant surprise when Marinette would ask his opinion to make a decision, she always picked what he chooses.

Perhaps it was their bond that allowed her to know what he was thinking without actually hearing each other's thoughts. Or maybe they were more in sync with one another. Most likely it was pure luck on her part. (Him being dead is enough proof of how bad his luck was.)

In the months he was dead, Damian learned a grand lot Marinette. He liked how she made him feel he wasn't alone, like how her voice calmed him when he remembered the family he left behind in his death. Marinette was his only lighthouse in the vast void of the afterlife

_______

Impotent, despair, and hopeless.

That's how Damian felt every time Marinette had to relive his death. He hated it so much. She didn't deserve that and it broke his heart every damn time.

Why did he have to die? Why did it have to be in such a painful way? Why did she have to feel it on repeat over and over and over again? Was it a twisted way the universe tried to make them reunited? If they can't find each other in life, then they can be together in death? That isn't right!

But it always hurts more when she wakes up and talks to him. Wondering if he was happy and in peace, in wherever place he ended up.

He was there but she didn't know.

He felt sick.

After being revived, Damian felt an immense sense of loss. Sure, he was kinda happy to reunite with his family and grateful for being alive again, but he missed her.

It was difficult to readjust to being alive again, it was crystal clear that Damian Wayne wasn't okay. What hurts him the most was how her name turned into a scar on his wrist.

During the day paranoia settled in making him always on high alert, lashing out when it got too much for him.

In the night, he couldn't sleep properly as a feeling of unease latched onto his every nerve and when he did sleep, nightmares plagued him.

Damian tried to calm down in various ways, but ultimately it was Marinette's voice that soothed him and lulled him to sleep.

It quickly became a habit to replay their one-sided conversations as he tries to fall asleep.

He went over what Marinette Dupain-Cheng spoke to him time and time again as to engrave her voice in his mind. Unfortunately, her voice was fading away, every time he recalled it, he hear his own voice.

At least some memories remained, which was relieving for Damian, even when important ones like what language she spoke or the name of her school were completely wiped out.

He never told his family his experience while he was dead, he guesses Jason was the most likely to know about it but he never brought it up to anyone, so Damian did the same.

Now he was lying in bed, remembering about the time Marinette tried embroidery for the first time.

She started by searching up what she wanted it to be and after much talking, she chose a Robin, Damian smile at the eagerness he felt for her to chose it. It was a fun day, with her making comments here and there about the work, he wishes he could see it.

A knock woke him up of his thoughts, Alfred emerging from the door.

"Master Damian, I'm here to inform you a guest will be joining us for tomorrow's dinner."

"Whose guest?" He didn't really feel like dealing with new people.

"It's Master Jason's guest."

Damian groans, perhaps he could go visit Kent.

"It would be in your best interest to participate, Master Damian." Alfred gave him a look.

He sighed, definitely can't miss tomorrow or he'll have to face Pennyworth.

So, I've written another chapter while listening to a sad song on repeat :') I know it doesn’t really connect to the last chapter but I wasn’t feeling okay and didn’t know how to continue from where I left off.

I hope y’all enjoyed this and have a nice day!

P.S.: The taglist is temporarily closed as some tags aren't working. Again, I'm very sorry if I missed anyone. If you no longer want to be tagged please hit me up.

Taglist:

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[mittensmorgul]

Imagine you really, really hate murder mystery novels.

(this is difficult for me to imagine personally... but for the sake of a metaphor, let’s go with the concept. I’d prefer to use a category of fiction I actually enjoy for this particular point)

But for the sake of this argument, imagine you believe they’re terrible, to the point you think they shouldn’t even be allowed to exist. They’re bad all around, no redeeming value, not even for the sake of intellectual curiosity or pure entertainment. You think murder is just SO BAD in real life, that nobody ANYWHERE, EVER, should be allowed to engage with fictional depictions of this crime.

I don’t think you’re likely to find a ton of murder mystery authors who receive accusations that the only reason they enjoy writing murder mystery novels is because they’re ACTUALLY murderers in real life. Or because they are “glorifying” murder or have some agenda to promote murder or in any way make it appear “morally acceptable” in the eyes of the general public. But just imagine someone SO ANGRY that these terrible, morally bankrupt books (in their eyes) are allowed to exist, allowed to be sold in bookstores or freely available in libraries, or even *gasp* adapted into films or television programs or other media, that they chose to go on a moral crusade against anyone who dared to write such moral (YET ENTIRELY FICTIONAL) atrocities.

In your goal to stamp out this moral outrage, you send these authors (real actual human beings!) death threats and other vile garbage. YOU HAVE NOW CROSSED THE LINE FROM FICTION INTO REALITY.

Sending real human beings direct threats of violence is NOT protected speech. It’s not “fiction.” And nobody consented to actually read that garbage.

The thing is, if you don’t like murder mysteries (because we’re continuing with this metaphor), when you walk into a library or bookstore you can easily avoid having to engage with that section. It’s clearly marked and labeled for your convenience, just like every other section is so that you can easily find what you DO want to read.

Nobody, and I do mean NOBODY, has to justify their reasons for enjoying murder mysteries to you. It’s literally none of your goddamn business. You hate those sorts of books? Fine! Someone else enjoys them? FINE! Their interests in the FICTION they consume do not dictate who they are as human beings, and how they relate and interact with the REAL WORLD. With OTHER LIVING PEOPLE.

People who enjoy consuming fictional things you hate do not deserve your condemnation and do not deserve your abuse. If you attack real living people over what fiction they choose to read or write, then YOU are officially an abuser.

Not in a fictional way.

If someone casually browsing in the romance department nearby hears you loudly complaining that these people who “glorify” murder in their books should be killed, or beaten, or banned, and steps in to suggest that would be morally unacceptable to harm real, living people over the contents of the fictional stories they create or read, and then you turn around and stalk that innocent person who has never read or written a murder mystery novel in their entire lives, and has no interest in doing so even, for the imaginary “crime” of defending free speech that you happen to find distasteful or offensive, then YOU have become an abuser. You have become (to another real, living human being) the embodiment of the thing you profess to hate.

At that point, you can no longer claim the moral high ground here. You could’ve just as easily walked past the murder mystery shelves. You could’ve carried on your entire life engaging with the types of stories that bring you happiness, but instead spend all your free time obsessing over the things you hate instead. I can only assume attempting to make people who are busy creating and consuming the content they enjoy most feel as miserable and hate-filled as you do.

Joke’s on you fools who think that way. It’s just fucking sad, is what it is. Pitiable. Honestly.

I cannot imagine going through life with that much hate and vitriol driving my every waking thought. Turn off the fox news already. Please engage with reality as it actually exists, because nobody gives a shit about your moral fucking outrage over fiction. Please read an actual book about cognitive dissonance, because the complete lack of understanding of your own actions is jarring, and yes, pitiable.

Yes, this has been about purity culture wankers. 

[theartist666-official]

~ Words Can’t Begin to Describe | Kujou Sara x GN! Reader | SFW ~

Description: General Kujou is known for not being the best at communicating with others, but you still have your own ways of understanding her.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none, but there’s implied itto x reader in here at the end too 😌✨

(a/n): not proofread, so lemme know anything (nicely bc i have minor rejection sensitive dysphoria)

The Tengu Warrior, Kujou Sara, rarely ever had much time to relax. She spent her days training, getting her and the Shogun’s army stronger. But when she did have a moment to spare, you somehow found yourself being part of her down time.

For whatever reason, she made monthly visits to the Grand Narukami Shrine where the two of you first met. You being the nice person you are allowed her some space when she made her way to the Sacred Sakura Tree for a quiet prayer. Having this sort of interaction every time she visited eventually led to the two of you growing closer and developing enough trust to consider each other good friends.

Maybe you didn’t see her as often as you’d have liked, but whenever you saw her roaming the streets of Tenryou on her own in a relaxed manner, you’d offer to spend some time with her, which she always accepted without hesitation. You’d talk about all sorts of occurrences you experienced in your day or throughout your week while she listened intently as you two walked side by side.

The two of you would share a meal, always taking turns every time to pay for the food, and then you’d both make your way to the Grand Narukami Shrine. A certain head shrine maiden with fox-like appearances could be heard making amused giggles as you two stood beside each other in silence. By the end of it, night seemed to fall way faster than the both of you could anticipate, so she’d always offer to escort you back home as a sort of thanks for the whole day and so that she can make sure you’re safe.

You’d always been so kind and patient towards General Kujou. While her subordinates often looked at her fearfully for her stern outward appearance and commanding nature, it was an unnatural feeling she experienced when you saw past all of that. It made her wonder if you had perhaps pitied her or were looking to gain some sort of leverage on befriending someone under direct order of the Raiden Shogun.

For these reasons she had come up with, her curiosity got the best of her. “If I may be allowed to inquire about something, why is it that you have such an amiable disposition towards me?” The Tengu Warrior spoke up suddenly. “Huh?” You tilted your head not fully understanding. “… Surely you know that I am not the most capable of carrying out normal conversation. It is something I have yet to perfect. Still, you speak to me normally even when I cannot form a desirable response.”

She frowned a bit and shifted her eyes away feeling slightly embarrassed for having asked such a thing. But it surprised her to hear laughter emitting from you despite it. Was what she said really that amusing? Were you making fun of her? It didn’t seem like that was the case.

“Sara, have you been worrying about that this whole time?” You laughed. “Yes, is it not a valid concern to have?” Kujou Sara huffed crossing her arms. “I never said it wasn’t,” you reassured her. “But it really shouldn’t be something you have to worry about. I don’t need you to talk to me normally for me to understand you.”

She raised an eyebrow curiously. “Hmm, how should I put this..” You hummed putting a finger to your chin in thought. “On days where it’s my turn to pay for our food, you insist that you be the one to pay for us. You don’t say anything, but I know you probably notice my wallet isn’t too full at the time. When I’m talking my head off about something, even if you don’t say all that much, you still give me your input which shows me that you’re really listening.”

“My point is, you’re really nice to me, so I think it’s only natural I’m nice to you too,” you smiled. “I guess I can see why you’d be worried that I’d find you difficult to talk to, but I’ve seen what kind of person you are all these months. You’re a good friend to me, Sara. Maybe you’re stern because you were raised that way, but I find a lot of the things you do endearing. I mean, you’re the one who’s walking me home because you worry about me.”

The Tengu General was too stunned to speak. Is that really how you viewed her? How was it that you could understand her so well even though you only spent minimal time with each other at least once a month? There certainly was something alluring to her about your perceptiveness. “Your reasoning is… so simple-minded. Yet I can’t find any argument to go against it. But thank you. It is good to know that I am not troubling you.” You couldn’t see it because she turned to look the other way, but a small smile found its way onto her face.

“Of course you aren’t,” you told her. “Oh, looks like we finally made it to my place!” You lived in a pretty decent home in Hanimizaka, but you did spend time around Tenryou in hopes of seeing the general one of these days you usually hadn’t expected to see her. Sara nodded her head at you. “Good, I’m glad I was able to escort you all the way—“

“Heyyy!” Another friend of yours called out to you. The both of you turned to him, you with a smile and Sara with eyes glaring daggers at the big oni man making his way to you. “Hahaha! You’re back! Oh, spending the day with General Kujou, were you?” He laughed a bit passive aggressively. “Yeah, I was,” you nodded reminiscing at the nice day spent with her.

“Cool cool, yeah, seems like you had fun. Anyway, wanna look at these cool trading cards I got today?” Itto grinned. “Maybe tomorrow, Itto. I’m a bit tired.” You told him. “Thanks for taking me back home, Sara. Same time next month?” You said turning to her. “Oh, I.. would appreciate it.” She accepted. “Sounds good,” you smiled. “Night, you two.”

“Goodnight,” Kujou Sara nodded. “Sweet dreams!” Itto smiled. You waved to the both of them as you closed the door behind you, leaving them glaring at each other right on your porch. “So, you’ve gotten all buddy-buddy with my (Y/N), huh? When’d the cold-hearted Kujou Tengu get out of the Tenryou Commission’s training quarters to not arrest anyone?” The crimson oni guffawed.

“Your (Y/N)? As far as I’m aware, they don’t belong to anyone. Let alone the likes of you, Arataki Itto.” The general grit her teeth. “The Vision Hunt Decree may not be in order anymore, but there are still laws in place which you have broken. And I still have the right to arrest you for them right here and now.”

“And break (Y/N)’s heart because you put their closest friend in the slammer? Nah, I don’t think you have the guts to do it, General.” Itto says. Sara clenched her hand at the thought. “I think they would be reasonable enough to understand why you’d be put into prison. I’m sure they’d even stand to side alongside me in that case.” She crosses her arms firmly believing her own words.

“That so? You sayin’ you think you’re the one who’s stolen their heart? If you’re so confident, why don’t we make a bet?” The oni suggested. “I’m willing to bet that I’m gonna be the one (Y/N)’s gonna confess their feelings to by the end of the year. Since you think otherwise, shouldn’t be a problem getting a confession from them to you.” He says. Kujou Sara scoffed. “Why should I accept such a childish wager?” She asked. “Cuz if ya win, then sure, I’ll give you the opportunity to arrest me. No resisting. If I win though, ya gotta clear me and my gang of all the charges against us.” He grins.

“Sound like a deal, General Kujou?” Itto raised his eyebrow. After a moment of contemplation, Kujou Sara rolled her eyes and groaned at her decision. “Fine. But you better keep to your word.” She says. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m an oni of my word, honest. Well then, the wager is set.” He holds a hand out for her to shake to confirm the agreement. She hesitantly reaches her hand out only for him to quickly pull away and laugh at her. “Ohohoho! Too slow!” He laughed. “Arataki Itto!” She exclaimed as he ran away.