#so double the power of the human soul and angst

[originalaccountname]

I'm literally throwing spaghetti I don't really expect to stick at the wall but I think it'd be sweet if by absorbing people like he did with Teruko, Amenogozen - god edition was, by the end, defeated through the power of human will because there's a lot of human souls in there very mad about this turn of fate

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 21 | S.R

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Summary - you and Spencer both make decisions you can’t come back from.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - past sexual abuse of a child, swearing, tears, murder, cheating, brief mention of oral (f receiving), vomit, pregnancy symptoms, double crossing, blood, stab wounds, death of a father, bruises, aggression, use of “whore”.

WC - 5.8k

Chapter 21 - Miss Mysterious

The clock on the wall chimed twelve times in quick succession, echoing around the otherwise silent room. Spencer sat on the edge of the coffee table, the SIG still pointed at his father, who hadn’t moved from the armchair. 

He didn’t know what he was so hesitant about, he could have easily killed him by now and been out of the house and on his way back to Caesars but something was stopping him. 

Did he want an explanation? And even if he got one, nothing in the world could excuse what his dad had done to him or anyone else. His dad was a sick and twisted person who had abused his own son’s trust and ripped little pieces of his soul away every single time he crawled into his bed in the middle of the night. 

His fathers actions had affected him in more ways than he’d ever even realised. Of course there was the obvious, his building of walls, his inability to get close to people. It had taken until he was twenty six before he was intimate with a woman for the first time. And he’d shut himself in the bathroom afterwards and cried and it was a long time before sex didn’t make him that emotional. 

It had later manifested itself in his dominance in the bedroom. You weren’t the first person he’d treated that way in bed, it had become a pattern for him. He had to take back his power by being in control and never submitting to anyone else in that way again. In doing so he was able to harness his emotions afterwards and not have to indulge in a post-coital sob. 

But there were repercussions from his fathers abuse in which he had never really noticed until now. When he’d finally been pushed over the edge to kill, every single man he had ended the life of was simply a surrogate. Each one was around his father’s age, all violent and evil human beings. Each man was a substitute for the real target of his rage. A rage he hadn’t realised had been building for over thirty years until right now. 

William Reid was Spencer’s ultimate boogeyman, the monster lurking in every shadow. He was Spencer’s Goliath and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to slay him. He just had to focus and not let himself get dragged down this dark rabbit hole. But it may be too late. 

He could still hear the sound of a zipper cutting through his mind in that room that was supposed to be his place of solace. He could see his fathers manic eyes as they loomed over him in the darkness. He could feel those rough hands all over his body and hear his own cries which his father simply ignored.

Daddy, please! You don’t have to do this. 

He felt his hand shaking as he held the gun, hot tears pooling behind his eyes. He sniffed them back, not willing to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him cry again. He clenched his jaw firmly, grinding his teeth in a furious fashion and sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“You ruined my life.” Spencer croaked, his voice so unlike himself.

“I made you stronger.” William countered, narrowing his eyes on Spencer. “I was teaching you how to be a man.”

“Oh yeah? And how is that?” Spencer’s brows furrowed in angry confusion.

“You were so weak, pathetic, really. You never would have been able to take care of yourself. I was showing you the harsh realities of the world, you needed to learn that to get by in this life you have to be strong, grow a thick skin. I helped you.” William shrugged.

“Helped me?” Spencer spat, hand shaking violently. “You think molesting me helped me?” 

“That’s such an ugly word, Spencer.” William rolled his eyes. “But yes.”

“You’re full of shit.” Spencer jumped to his feet, proffering the SIG closer to his dad. “Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night? That you fucking helped me? What about the other’s? Did you help them too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” William shrugged again. 

“Cut the crap, dad. I know there were other boys. A sexual predator doesn’t just stop unless someone stops him.” 

William slowly pushed himself up with the use of the arms of the chair. He was shorter than Spencer by a few inches, he’d gotten his height from his mother. Thankfully he’d gotten most things from his mom and not this man in front of him. 

“Let’s not talk about the others, Spencer.” William smiled at him. “You were the only one I cared about.” 

“Fuck you.” Spencer sniffed again as his eyes welled with tears once more. “You didn’t care about me. If you cared about me you wouldn’t have done what you did. I’m your son for fuck sake! You were supposed to keep me safe from monsters, not be one.”

“Of course I cared about you. I love you, Spencer.” William raised one arm and moved to stroke the side of Spencer’s face but Spencer quickly slapped him away with his free hand.

William, although frail looking, was fast and managed to grab Spencer by the wrist and circle his fingers around it. He noticed his dad’s eyes cast down to the silver band on his finger before looking back up to meet his eyes. 

“You’re married?” William frowned. 

“Yes.” Spencer tugged his arm free of his dad’s hold. 

“Does she know what you really are?” A smirk tugged at the older man’s lips. 

“She knows I’m a murderer.” Spencer spat, proffering the gun closer again. “I’ve killed multiple men just like you, the scum of the earth who need to pay for their crimes. And she loves me for it. She respects me for it.” 

“And let me guess, it's my fault you turned out this way?” William sighed as if he was bored. 

“Who else's fault would it be?” 

“Your wack job mother, perhaps? How many times did you witness her being violent towards me when you were young?” 

“I’m sure it wasn’t anything you didn’t deserve. And seeing my mom lash out from time to time when she didn’t take her meds and having my father sexually abuse me are two very different things!” Spencer raised his voice, spitall flying from his mouth in rage. 

“You got all your worst traits from her, you know?” William kept his cool. “Volatile, over dramatic. It’s a shame you didn’t turn out more like me.” 

“I’ll never be anything like you.” Spencer straightened his back, tried to rein himself in.

“Oh Spencer, you're already so much more like me than you realise.” William chuckled darkly and it made Spencer’s stomach turn. 

“That’s not true.” Spencer shook his head.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” William stepped closer to him and Spencer should have just shot him but he didn’t. He let his father come close to his ear and he closed his eyes when he felt the older man's breath against his face. “I killed Riley Jenkins.” 

Spencer stumbled on his feet, feeling his stomach somersaulting wildly and he briefly worried he might throw up. His father was cackling maniacally at the look on his son's face.

“No, that’s not true.” Spencer lowered the gun without meaning to. 

“The truth is Riley had more guts than you and he was going to tell his father what I did to him. So I had to kill him.” William didn’t show a hint of remorse for his actions, in fact he looked proud of himself. “So if you kill me, you’re only proving my point that you’re just like me.”

“No.” Spencer’s tears wouldn’t stay contained anymore and they started to fall. “No, I’m nothing like you.” 

“Put the gun down and walk away, son. Prove you’re not like me” William smirked at him.

“I…I can’t.” Spencer shook his head frantically. 

“Spencer,” William suddenly turned stern. “Put the gun down and walk away.”

“N-no.” Spencer’s lip quivered.

William exhaled loudly and before Spencer knew what was happening, his father advanced on him, managing to free the gun from Spencer’s hand before Spencer even saw him coming. With his other hand he swiftly punched Spencer in the stomach and when his son doubled over in pain from the blow, he grabbed him by the hair, tugged him one way and then shoved him to the floor. 

Spencer groaned as he hit the carpet but noted the knife hadn’t dislodged from his waistband. His father stood over him, pointing his own gun down at him and looking at him in frustration. 

“I don’t want to kill you, Spencer. But if the choice is between me and you then I will not hesitate in pulling this trigger.” William spat.

Spencer rolled onto his back, making sure the blade stayed concealed from his fathers vision. It was his only way out of this, he needed the element of surprise on his side. He just had to work out how to unsheath it and get one up on his dad before the other man got off a shot. 

“You want to kill me, go ahead.” Spencer shrugged, tears still silently rolling down his cheeks. “You’ve already taken everything from me, I kind of wish you’d killed me when I was a kid so I didn’t have to live with the memories of what you did to me. So just do it. Put me out of my misery.”

William swallowed, lifting his arm a little and aiming the muzzle right at Spencer’s skull. His hands were steady, tightly wrapped around the butt of the SIG and looking like he may well actually shoot Spencer and probably sleep easy afterwards. 

If Spencer didn’t act fast he was as good as dead. But he refused to let it end this way, at the hands of his abuser. He had to formulate a plan and enact it to perfection or he would die on this shitty carpet, in this crappy house and the last thing he would have seen would be the eyes of the man who molested him.

***

At some point you probably should have stopped to think about Spencer but honestly, he was the furthest thing from your mind. Not even your wedding band could distract from the intense pleasure that Jesse was bestowing upon you, quite frankly you could barely remember your own name. 

You’d lost count of how many times you’d imagined what his beard would feel like between your legs and tonight you’d finally been privy to it. The friction from his rough facial hair made the experience even more incredible than any other time you’d ever been eaten out before, and you found yourself grinding against his face to feel more of it.

He made you come with complete ease, as though he wasn’t even trying and when he sat back and wiped his hand over his mouth he was smiling sinfully at you.

“Jesus Christ.” You panted, still slightly writhing on the couch beneath him. 

“That’s half the reason I keep the beard.” He chuckled, laying down on top of you.

“What’s the other half?” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“How good it makes me look.” He kissed you again and you tasted yourself on his lips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and using one hand to pop the button on his jeans. You were both still fully dressed, too desperate for each other to think about undressing. But you wanted to see more of him, if this was the last chance you got to be with him, you needed to commit him to memory. 

As if reading your mind, whilst you worked on shimming his pants down to his thighs he made quick work of getting his shirt off. You pulled him back closer to you, nestling him between your legs and your hands starting to graze over the tattoo on his peck.  

But then your stomach suddenly lurched in a way you’d gotten all too used to recently and suddenly you were shoving him away and jumping to your feet. 

Jesse fell back to the couch, staring at the back of your head as you sprinted to the bathroom. He heard the toilet seat being lifted and moments later the sound of you retching reached his ears. 

He pulled a face, tucking himself away as he got to his feet, cautiously following in your tracks. He found you kneeling over the toilet seat, head in the basin while you violently vomited. 

“Are you ok?” He approached you, sitting down on the edge of the bath and stroking your back. 

“Hmm.” You grumbled, sitting back once you expelled yourself and wiping your mouth. “That’s been happening a lot lately. It’s nothing to do with you, I swear.” 

“I should hope not.” He laughed, rubbing circles between your shoulder blades. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” You frowned up at him. 

“You’re pregnant right?” He frowned back at you. 

“No?” You shuffled backwards out of his touch. 

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Sorry, with the vomiting I just assumed. And I don’t mean this in the completely perverted way it’s going to sound, but I haven’t even seen you shirtless tonight and I can tell your breasts are huge. Bigger than I remember and I remember them pretty well.” 

“I…I don’t even know what to say to that.” You glanced down at your chest where your dress was stained with the drink you’d spilled. 

“Have you had any other signs? Urinating more regularly? Strange cravings or aversions to things?” He asked with a soft smile. 

You felt the colour drain from your face, feeling like you could throw up again. The signs had been there staring you in the face and you’d ignored them. But surely you couldn’t be? 

“I, uh, maybe? No. I don’t know.” You pushed yourself up to your feet. 

“When was the last time you had a period?” Jesse stood as well. 

“Too personal.” You shook your head with a groan. 

“Y/N, come on.” He cocked his eyebrow at you. 

“I don’t know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “They’ve never been all that reliable and I have been pretty stressed recently. There is no way, I cannot be pregnant.” 

“I should probably go.” Jesse smiled sadly at you. “This was a really bad idea, wasn’t it?”

“It certainly wasn’t a good idea.” You felt your eyes welling with tears although you didn’t know why. “I’m so sorry. I wish he didn’t have this hold over me.” 

“It’s called love, Y/N.” Jesse tucked your hair behind your ear. “You love him and you shouldn’t apologise for that.” 

“Maybe I don’t? I don’t know.” You shook your head. 

“Answer me something,” Jesse folded his arms over his still bare chest. “You killed Mary because she was threatening him.”

“That’s not a question.” 

“No, I know.” He chuckled lightly. “My question is: would you have done that for anyone else? For example, would you have killed her if she was threatening me?” 

“No.” You didn’t hesitate. “No I wouldn’t have.” 

“And that’s because you love him.” Jesse shrugged. 

“But loving him makes me feel like such an idiot.”

“Now you know how I feel.” He smiled wistfully at you. “I really should go before he comes back. How long are you in town for?” 

“Just tonight, I think.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. 

“Far to travel?”

“I’m not falling into that trap.” You smirked at him. 

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He laughed. “Stay safe, Y/N. And if you are pregnant, good luck. For what it’s worth I think you’d make a great mom.” 

“Did you forget the part where I confessed to murder?” You frowned at him. 

“We all make mistakes.” He started walking backwards towards the door. “Take me for example, I was about to sleep with a married and potentially pregnant woman.” 

You followed him out into the living room and smiled to yourself as you got a great eye full of his ass, even if it was inside his jeans, as he bent down to pick up his shirt. You made sure to commit that to memory. 

You watched him put the shirt back ok, also trying to memorise every one of those tattoos adorned his body. He sidled closer to you again and cupped your face gently in his hands. 

“We can’t keep meeting in bars, Y/N.” He chuckled lightly. “It has to be goodbye this time.” 

“I still think you followed me here.” You teased him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“You wish.” He chuckled, reluctantly letting go of your face. 

He took a few steps backwards towards the suite door and you had to force yourself not to follow him. He gave you a sad half-smile as he exhaled heavily and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor.

“See ya, I guess.” You shrugged, once again wrapping your arms around yourself. 

“That’s you’re parting words to me? See ya, I guess?” He chuckled with a shake of his head. 

“What do you want me to say?” You laughed. 

“What I want you to say and what you can actually say are two very different things.” He rubbed his beard. “So let’s leave it at, see ya, I guess.” 

With that he offered you a wave and reached for the door handle, closing it behind himself. And just like he was gone. 

You stumbled over to the couch and collapsed onto it, your head spinning with the evening's activities. You’d really fucked up this time. Being with Jesse back in Butte was ok because you and Spencer hadn’t really been married. But now you were married and you’d let yourself get caught up in Jesse once more. 

Maybe in a way Spencer deserved it for the way he’d treated you in the past. You’d blindly followed him only for him to treat you like dirt. Sure things had been better lately but you never knew where you stood with him and truthfully, you weren’t sure if you felt safe with him. 

And what the fuck happened if Jesse was right and you were actually pregnant? Bringing a baby into this messed up situation, to be raised by two killers? That didn’t even bear thinking about. 

He had to be wrong. There was no way you could be. You were on the pill…

…fuck. 

You were on the pill. Right up until Spencer had talked you into leaving DC and you’d left your contraceptive behind in your hurry to leave. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

***

Jesse McGill took the elevator down to the ground floor and found a quiet area in the lobby before pulling out his cell phone. He ran his hand over his beard with a large sigh, a wave of emotions crashing down around him. 

He gnawed frantically on his lip as he pulled up the number he’d received a call from yesterday and then held it to his ear. It was answered on the third ring. 

“Did you do it?” The hurried voice came down the line. 

“I did what you asked. I saw her but I didn’t see Spencer and she didn’t say where he was.” Jesse sighed, he didn’t feel good about this at all. 

“Did you ask her about Mary?” 

“Yes.” 

“And?” 

Jesse closed his eyes. He had two options here but he had no idea which was the best one. He could lie and say you wouldn’t tell him anything about what happened to Mary, which wouldn’t be completely unexpected. He could tell the truth, tell them that you confessed to killing her but you wouldn’t give up where the body was buried. 

Or, he could go with option number three. He could tell a combination of the truth and a lie. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled loudly wondering how the hell he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place. 

“Well? What did she say?” The voice came again, impatience riddled in their tone. 

“Mary’s dead.” Jesse opened his eyes again, making his decision as he spoke. “Spencer killed her.” 

“Goddamnit. I knew it!” The other man growled, slamming something loudly and causing an echo down the phone. “Did she say anything else?”

“No. She told me the body was buried somewhere it would never be found. Apparently Mary was blackmailing Spencer and he just-”

“I don’t care why he did it.” The man scoffed. “And she didn’t give you any indication of where they’re living or anything like that?” 

“No, I tried, I really tried. But she’s not stupid.” Jesse pushed his back up against the wall, eyes fluttering between people entering and leaving Caesars. 

“You know you did the right thing, Jesse? I know you probably don’t feel good about this, but you did the right thing. It’s not her we want, it’s Spencer. I’ll make sure she’s protected.” 

“I know, but it feels fucking rotten.” Jesse sighed again. “What happens now?”

“That’s not for you to worry about. We’ve got this from here. Get a room for the night, it’s late, catch a flight home tomorrow. Let me know how much they cost and I’ll ensure you get reimbursed.” 

“I don’t care about that.” Jess shook his head. “I liked her and I feel like I’ve betrayed her.” 

“You did the right thing.” The voice repeated. “I promise I only want what’s best for her. And that’s to get her away from Spencer. You’ve been a huge help. Thanks again Jesse.” 

Jesse hated being a part of this, depised that he’d been dragged into this fucked up mess. He’d meant it when he told you he loved you which only made this harder. But they say if you love someone you have to let them go, if they return they were always yours and if they don’t, they never were. 

He knew exactly which one you were. 

“Agent Alvez?” Jesse blurted out. He closed his eyes as if it might somehow relieve his guilt before he spoke again. “There is one more thing you should know…”

***

Spencer leant against the wall in the elevator as it made its ascent, staring at the closed metal doors while he tried to piece his night back together. 

Everything that happened after his dad shoved him to the floor and took his gun was a blur. His stomach ached, he wouldn’t be surprised if his father had left him with a nasty bruise. His fist had clipped him right in the steadily healing scar from the knife wound you'd inflicted on him months ago. 

He remembered the pain, he remembered trying to think of a way to free the knife from the back of his pants. But it was like at some point he blacked out because the next thing he knew he was standing over his fathers dead body covered in blood. 

He’d counted forty three stab wounds in his fathers torso, sliced like Swiss cheese and damn near eviscerated. The man who had molested him, his biggest demon was dead. And the most poetically tragic part was that Spencer didn’t remember killing him. 

Maybe the haze would clear and over time he’d be able to piece the events back together. It was possible his brain was trying to protect him from the trauma of recollecting the murder of his father, but if it had safeguarded him from the memories of being eight years old, there wouldn’t have been the need to kill William in the first place. 

He’d cleaned up the crime scene, the messiest one he’d ever had to face due to the amount of blood that wept from those forty three wounds. He put his fathers body in the trunk of the Impala and found a sweater in the backseat which was lucky given the amount of blood on his hoodie. 

He stood in his fathers bathroom and stared at his reflection. His face and neck were splattered in the red sticky substance and his hands were almost entirely covered. He cleaned himself off the best he could and before he knew it he was driving away from the house. 

He stumbled through the lobby of Caesars as if he were drunk, his brain felt that kind of intoxicated haze too. He made it up to his floor and slotted his key in the door. In all honesty, after the events of the night, he completely forgot you’d be there. So when he shoved up the door and found you sitting on the couch in the suite, he had to blink a few times as he tried to piece back moments from earlier in the day. 

You pushed yourself to your feet, taking a few steps towards Spencer, your brows furrowed at his obvious confusion. 

“You ok?” You didn’t come too close, you were wary of him. 

“Uh, yeah.” He swallowed before clearing his throat. “Yeah I think so.” 

“You’ve been gone for hours.” You rolled your lips between your teeth. 

“I have?” He rubbed one of his eyes. 

“Are you drunk?” 

“No, no. Not drunk. Tired, maybe?” He questioned himself. “I should probably…I don’t know, sleep or something.” 

He started in your direction and moved past you and as he did so you caught the familiar smell of blood. That coupled with the tiny red drop you’d noticed on the side of his neck confirmed your theory about where he’d been.

“Did you get your phone?” You asked as he passed you. 

He turned back to you, squinting a little, clearly confused. 

“Uh…” he swallowed again. “Sure.” 

“Spencer?” You folded your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah?” 

“Who’d you kill?” 

He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply through his nose. He should have known you’d see right through him. 

“No one. It’s nothing.” He mumbled, opening his eyes again. 

“You have blood on your neck. And I’m pretty certain if you took your sweater off your shirt would be covered in blood.” You took another step forward. “Who’d you kill?” 

He sighed over dramatically, by way of telling you he didn’t want to be having this conversation. He rubbed his eyes, subsequently helping to clear the daze he’d been in and looked at you curiously, as though it was his first time seeing you. You noticed his eyes flick to your bicep and you followed his gaze, only then realising your mistake. 

You involuntarily raised your other hand and placed it over the flashing beacon that had been left behind on your arm, a symbol of your infidelity. 

“What have you done to your arm?” He grinded his teeth, loud enough that you could hear it. 

“I must have, uh, walked into something I guess.” 

“No. Nuh uh.” He shook his head, advancing on you and roughly tugging your hand away from the array of bruises around your bicep. “Try again.” 

“I don’t know where they came from.” You whimpered. 

“You’re lying.” He spat. “I’ve left enough bruises on you to know they are from someone’s fingers.” 

He wrapped his own hand around your arm just lower than where the red mark was adorned on your skin. 

“I guess you must have done it then. We did have sex earlier.” 

“No.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t me. Who the fuck did this to you?” 

“N-no one.” You chewed heavily on your lip, teeth digging deeply into the flesh. 

“No one? So you’re just magically producing bruises?” He snarled at you. 

“No.” You pouted. “Stop changing the subject. Who’s blood is on you?” 

“Who gave you these bruises?” He countered, still holding your arm. 

“Who did you kill?”

“Who hurt you?” 

You were at a stalemate, glaring at each other wildly, neither one of you wanting to admit the truth to the other. You’d rather he hurt you than admit that you’d cheated on him. And he’d rather die than tell you about what his father had done to him.

He suddenly let go of your arm and huffed loudly, stepping backwards and raking his fingers through his hair. 

“What are you keeping from me?” He mumbled as if talking to himself. 

“We all have secrets, Spencer.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “You more so than anyone. So you don’t get to be angry at me if I choose not to tell you everything.” 

He glared at you, rage filled eyes scrutinising you in a way he’d never looked at you both. 

“Who the fuck even are you?” He shook his head. “I don’t even recognise what you’ve become.” 

“Me?” You spat. “Whatever I’ve become you turned me into!” 

“I made you!” He growled. “And this is how you repay me? Lying to me and keeping secrets?” 

“What can I say? I learnt from the best!” Your anger rose rapidly. “I should have known you were lying to me tonight. You butter me up with up sex and leave me here alone while you go out and kill even though I’ve proven to you time and time again that you can trust me! So yeah I went downstairs to the bar and I thought, hey, if my husband doesn’t want to spend time with me, maybe someone else will.” 

“You did what?” He snapped, suddenly grabbing you roughly by both arms and pushing you back against the nearest wall. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

“What if I did?” You snarled, refusing to show your fear. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

“Who was he? I’ll fucking kill him!” He slammed you into the wall. 

“You’ll do no such thing.” 

“I cant fucking believe you! How could you do that to me? I married you! And now you’re picking up random men in bars? Have some self respect!” He was really close to your face and the metallic smell was overwhelming. 

“Since day one in this relationship you have done whatever you want to do and not given me a second thought. Why should I give your feelings any consideration when you give mine none? You just hate that I’ve grown a fucking back bone!” You fought against him but he was stronger.

“You think cheating on your husband is the same as my trying to protect you from what I’m doing?” 

“Project me? Oh please.” You scoffed. “I have killed three people Spencer, I don’t need protecting.” 

“Who was he?” He asked again, slamming you into the wall once more. “Or did you even stop to get his name before you spread your legs for him?” 

“Fuck you!” You screamed in his face.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you little whore. What kind of man fucks a married woman? A married woman he just picked up in a bar who he doesn’t even know? It actually says more about the man himself than you.”

“Fuck you!” You repeated, louder this time. “Jesse is twice the man you’ll ever be!” 

It was a complete slip of the tongue. You didn’t think you meant to implicate Jesse in that way but your rage had taken over. 

Spencer suddenly softened and his hands fell from your arms to his sides and he stumbled backwards like you’d punched him in the gut. He blinked at you as you kept yourself pressed against the wall.

“Jesse?” He croaked. “As in that fucking mountain man? He was here? You and him…? You really know how to fucking hurt me, don’t you?” 

He fell back to the couch and put his head in his hands. He thought you loved him, he thought he knew you. Maybe it was all an act that he’d fallen for hook, line and sinker. Maybe he’d never really known you, maybe he never would. Maybe you’d been on completely different pages all along. 

When had your heart ceased to beat for him, when had it turned numb? He loved you with every fibre of his being but perhaps it was time he let you go. 

Because as he looked at you now, he had no idea who you were. Behind your eyes you were a perfect stranger disguised as the woman he loved. You were nothing more than a mysterious effigy of the heart you’d broken. 

Miss Mysterious, who are you?

Who's the girl behind those eyes? Just a stranger in disguise?

Miss Mysterious, who could you be?

Where's the ghost of what we had? Did you erase it from your past?

Oh, so I pointed in every direction,

Oh well, looking for answers I'll never know.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

Miss Mysterious, may I ask:

Is your sunshine like my rain? Is your pleasure like my pain?

So delirious, casting your stones,

With the blood fall to my face,

Hoping that you'll lose your aim.

Oh, well it looks so bright with the lights out,

Oh well, I guess our stars forgot how to glow.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

No baby you, you broke my heart,

Now how do I get closure when you're only ever closed off?

Tell me who could take your place?

When these memories are telling me,

That we were not always,

Now don't even try to tell me that I should just relax,

And we're not strangled and over the tracks.

I tried to reach, I stretch out my hand but you turned around instead,

So many nights living inside just to connect with you.

Now I'm trying hard to win this but we've lost all we can lose,

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right?

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone".

Said if you love someone,

Now if you love someone,

Let them go.

Let them go.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective @rebelliousstories

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Down The Rabbit Hole

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: angst, murder by magic, MoC!angst

Summary: If you’re going to have to feed the Mark, may as well use people no one is going to miss. Bad people. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean go to Dr. Strange in hopes that they have a plan to remove the Mark from you sooner rather than later.

Past, Present, and Future Masterlist

Square Filled: bargain (mcuxspn crossover) for @fandombingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

When Dean bore the curse of the Mark, he suppressed everything he was feeling until it got too much for him. It’s what killed him. He let his anger get the better of him which was his downfall. The Mark turned him into a ruthless monster that needed to be stopped. Even after he was free of it, the aftereffects lingered for years to come.

Not you. You’re different.

You can’t die so the Mark can’t function how it’s supposed to. You have to feed it if you don’t want it to corrupt you, but you still have what you call your humanity. You’re not human but you like to think by spending time with humans, you have grown to think and be like them. It’s killing you to think about hurting people, but the Mark has a hold over your mind.

It’s like you're locked inside your mind and forced to watch yourself consume energy which kills the humans you take it from. There’s nothing you can do to stop it, so you have a choice to make. You can allow it to go after everyone it sees, or you can control the kind of people it wants you to kill. If you’re going to be consuming souls, may as well consume bad ones.

There’s one person you know that deals with the most evil kinds of humans, so that’s where you go. You leave New York through a portal and step right into Virginia where the BAU is. You walk into the BAU and straight to the elevators, causing the receptionist to jump into action.

“Ma’am! You can’t go back there without an appointment.” You keep walking and ignore her words. “Ma’am! Stop!”

You look at her and narrow your eyes at her computer. You don’t want to hurt her even though everything in your body is telling you to. No, only bad people! Instead of hurting her, you use your powers on her desk computer. It shorts out and explodes in a cloud of smoke. She screams at the noise and jumps back from the desk but the damage is done. She’s scared and she doesn’t dare stand in your way.

“Do not get in my way.”

You step onto the elevator and head to the third floor where the BAU offices are. The place is busy for a Friday but you don’t care about anyone in that office except for one. Spencer is the only person you have ever been in contact with at this place, so he’s the only one who will be able to help you. Spencer is talking to JJ when you walk through the glass double doors but he hasn’t noticed you yet. 

In fact, no one has.

He laughs at something she said and looks around the room until he locks eyes with you. His smile immediately drops and his entire body goes rigid. The last time you two talked, it didn’t exactly go well. He was scared of you when you asked him to look into where Sam was and he’s scared now. You walk over to him and ignore the looks you’re getting from JJ.

“I need bad guys.”

“Excuse me? What are you talking about?”

“Spence, who is this?” JJ asks.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, ignoring his friend.

“I came across something powerful and I decided to embrace it instead of running from it. However, I need to keep it satisfied which means I need souls, bad souls, like the ones you hunt. So, give me what I want and I won’t hurt you.”

“Seriously, Spence, who is she?” JJ asks. “Should I get Hotch?”

You look at JJ with a deadly glare.

“Take one step and I’ll kill you without blinking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Y/N, stop it,” Spencer says.

“Give me a list of everyone you’re hunting. I will take care of it for you. Think of me as your personal maid. I’ll take out the trash for you,” you smile not-so-sweetly.

“Should I call Dean or Dr. Strange?”

To show just how much you’re not joking, you grab JJ and put her in front of you like a human shield. She tries to move but you grip her arms tightly and allow your powers to suck out some energy, de-aging her by two years. By now, other people have noticed you three and have stopped to stare but you don’t care about them. You’ll kill every last one of them if you have to.

“All it takes is one touch from me and she turns to dust. Do you want that? Her death will be on your hands.”

“Spencer,” she whimpers.

“Fine. I’ll get it for you. Just don’t hurt her.”

“I’m waiting. I’ll keep her company until you return.”

Spencer has no choice but to leave you two alone and goes to Hotch to get that information.

“I have a husband and a son. Please don’t kill me,” she begs.

You want to cry. You want to let her go. You want to hide away from everyone so you don’t have to hurt them but the Mark won’t let you. Spencer comes back with papers in his hands which he hands over to you. You shove JJ into Spencer now that you’ve got what you want. Hotch comes out of his office and is about to order everyone to turn their weapons on you, but you create a portal right in the middle of the bullpen. You smirk at Hotch before stepping through it, entering another state in a different timezone.

The first person on your list is hiding out in an abandoned town not far from where you landed, and you walk all the way over there. Nothing this man does will stop you from entering this place and taking his life. He stole a portable grill to cook some food which is what he’s doing when you bust the door down.

“Hey! What the fuck?!”

You walk over to him and grab a rusted knife that’s sitting on a table. The man doesn’t have any time to get away before you’re plunging the knife into his gut. He cries out and shoves you away, stumbling back into the rotting stove.

“Who the fuck… What…?”

“It really isn’t personal,” you say.

Your powers cause his wound to fester and get an infection, and he cries out in pain. You don’t stop until the flesh around it rotting away with the wound until there is no life left in the man. You soak up every bit of energy and trauma you’ve just caused before turning and leaving the house.

Onto the next.

The more you kill, the more you feel better, and that’s all you want. You just want to feel better.

You might have said you can handle it but Dean has been worried since you told him to go back to Lebanon. He tried to focus on hunting but you’re all that he can think about, especially when he got a call from Spencer Reid with the BAU. Hunting will have to wait since you need his help now before you get past the part of no saving.

“Come again?” Stephen asks after hearing what Sam and Dean said.

“Look, you need to help her. She might say she’s fine and can handle it but I know the Mark personally. She’s not fine.”

“Thank you for your concern but I can take it from here.”

“Sir?” All three men look at one of the sorcerer’s apprentices. “She’s gone.”

“What?”

“The glass is shattered. She’s gone.”

“Shit,” Stephen curses.

“Look, we all need this off her but the second you remove it, God and Amara will be released. It’ll be the end of the world as you know it, like a Thanos-level threat. Maybe worse,” Dean sighs.

“I’ve been working on a spell to contain the mark, but it’s at Kamar Taj. Wong is helping me.”

“Will it save her?”

“Let’s hope it does. A corrupted Time Stone won‘t be good for anyone.”

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[unexpectedly-haunted]

fic rec list!

assorted hermitcraft + life series fic recommendations!

attempt thirty-three by bee_4: Joe Hills centric time loop fic. Also features Cleo, Scar, and Cub, and I love everyone's characterisation! Haunting and open ended, but still points of hope. Words: 13,617 Chapters: 1/1

To Sit in Hell with You by enemyofrome: Last Life treebark fic from Ren's POV. Focus on these two in the Shadow Alliance because man, those guys were really something else. Obsessed with the characterisation, have reread a reasonable amount. Words: 2,664 Chapters: 1/1

monsters nearby series by enemyofrome: Treebark series where the games are over but the Watchers aren't leaving Martyn alone- really fun exploration of supernatural impersonations and how that might impact your relationship with the real person. I'm not normal about these ones. Second work has a hopeful ending. Words: 13,856 Works: 2

Lifeline AU by SlashMagpie: Scifi/Fantasy AU about body-snatching aliens, also including the emptiness of space, magical worldbuilding, unreality and time travel. Main POV characters are Tango, Impulse + Pearl, but also includes much of the Hermitcraft ensemble + Skizz. Read the entire AU in one night and haven't been the same since, cannot recommend highly enough. Words: 299,349 Works: 6

Blood & Snow by SlashMagpie: Tango gets eaten by the dungeon, or close enough. Unsettling, visceral, and features possession! Has Scar, Bdubs, Cub, Etho, and Hypno POV. Words: 12,425 Chapters: 7/7

the sanctity of the mundane by crabbunch: Double Life SMP series with a fic exploring the relationships between each soul bounded pair. Found each work really fun and compelling, great variety in tone. Shoutout especially to this Cleo + Martyn! Words: 24,712 Works: 7

sculk blossom by crabbunch: Cub centric fic that works as both a character study and a look at his sculk corruption on Empires. Delighted by the horror and characterisation here! Words: 4,065 Chapters: 5/5

Deus Ex Machine by crabbunch: Bdubs POV, an existential/magical horror piece about the power of belief, storytelling, and godhood. Also some great Clethubs! Words: 13,449 Chapters: 8/16

Tangotek Evil Incorporated: Supervillain Tango and superhero Jimmy as arch nemeses. Comedy with a happy ending, and SO much fun to read. Words: 22,445 Chapters: 2/2

there are many downsides to being a marine biologist by donnerstag: Doc's marine biology gets complicated when the latest specimen turns out more human than expected: the siren he names Martyn. Really engaging and well-characterised fic, impossible to read and not end up invested in docmartyn. Trust me. Words: 74,006 Chapters: 27/27

a falling axe, a sharpened knife by sesquidpedalian: Double Life Cleo + Martyn relationship study, where soulmates also have a telepathic bond. Just really enjoyed this one! Words: 2,081 Chapters: 1/1

ectype by sesquidpedalian: Third Life AU where Martyn is there when Grian visits for enchantments. Really neat character study of two guys who aren't anything alike at all, definitely not. Words: 1,603 Chapters: 1/1

never our blood on this sand again by cosmicretribution: Scarian and treebark timeloop AU. Includes angst, the Timeloop Horrors, developing relationships, and great prose + characterisation! Words: 8,905 Works: 2

A Romance Route for the Doomed Villain?! by skelew: Treebark isekai AU where Martyn gets hit by a 2007 nissan micra and transported to a dating sim featuring the villainous Red King. Crack treated seriously, and a great parody fic that also happens to be genuinely compelling. Words: 5,012 Chapters: 1/1

feel free to add on recs in reblogs/comments! :D

[destieltropecollection]

DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 28 | Canon Compliant

from the ashes | @demonmary

Rating: General Word Count: 1,095 Main Tags/Warnings: Hell Rescue , Grace-Soul Bonding , Pre-Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising , POV Castiel, Religious Imagery & Symbolism Summary: It was his belief prior to that moment that Creation was an act of God, His and His alone; yet here Castiel was. Not God - but one of his angels - breathing careful life into the lungs of a man.

Love Me As An Inanimate Object | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,195 Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s07e01 Meet the New Boss, Missing Scene, Canon Compliant, Castiel as God (Supernatural), Angst Summary: Dean attempts to summon Cas in order to nicely ask if he'll please stop killing people. It... could've gone worse than it does.

Hydrogen Stars And The Design Of The Universe | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,788 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Episode: s04e16 On the Head of a Pin (Supernatural), Pre-Slash, Accidental Bonding, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Castiel Watches Over Dean Winchester, Canon Compliant, Missing Scene Summary: “So what’s. Uh. The design of the universe or whatever?” is what Dean comes up with as he’s rubbing his face dry on the pillowcase. It seems like something an angel would know a lot about. “Incomprehensible to humans as a whole.” Fuck’s sake.

Coming Down | @notastupidbird

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,977 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Season/Series 05, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Power Bottom Dean Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Light Angst, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Rain Sex, Anal Sex, Riding, POV Dean Winchester Summary: It’s only the second time they’ve done this and the first without the threat of “last night on Earth” hanging over them, so Dean still concentrates on studying Cas’ face for those sweet little micro-expressions that Dean’s hips are working out of him. He goes slow, grinding back and forth in a slick, rolling motion like they have all the time in the world. They don’t. - + - While Sam sleeps, Dean and Cas sneak off to the backseat of the Impala.

Yes, Dean | @whichstiel

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,788 Main Tags/Warnings: Stuck in the Middle (With You) Episode Coda, Tattoo kink Summary: Dean stares over at Cas. The angel is perched on one of the double beds examining his blood and black-goo stained clothes. As he watches, Cas presses a careful hand against his side over the healed spear wound. He looks like he's trying to read the dictionary upside down and in the mirror. Dean clears his throat and leans back from where he's standing over Sam's research. “You okay there, man?” he asks. “Yes, Dean.” Cas's reply is terse.

Wait For Me... | @deanabean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,389 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Compliant, Post-Episode AU: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, in this house we don't believe in s15ep20, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Fix-It: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Fix-It sorta - Freeform, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Inspired by Hadestown, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Hopeful Ending Summary: "It's an old song! It's an old tale from way back when And we're gonna sing We're gonna sing We're gonna sing it again!" _____ They were here before, he felt it , lived it, had to come form the other side of it... and he's gonna do it again and again and again... This time, they gonna make it through. because this time, they're truly free. this time, he's gonna get Cas back... He heard that melody before, what follows it though this time around?!

que sera sera | @hauntedpearl

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,855 Main Tags/Warnings: Canonverse, Mutual Pining, Angst, Hopeful ending, Cuddling/Snuggling, Season 13/14, Cas POV Summary: Castiel and Dean steal away to snuggle every once in a while and talk about things. Set somewhere after Tombstone and before Byzantium.

no proof, one touch | @watchinghimrakeleaves

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5,389 Main Tags/Warnings: canon compliant, dean winchester in heaven, castiel in heaven, love confessions Summary: When Castiel learns that Dean has entered heaven, he's determined to avoid him to save them both the pain of dealing with his confession. Dean is equally as determined to find him, leading him to put up signs for Cas anywhere he thinks the angel might be.

so much smoke in a hall of mirrors | @autisticandroids

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,235 Main Tags/Warnings: non-consensual voyeurism, top!cas, some general ickiness re: consent even though no one's consent is actually violated, season six, angel civil war, lonely cas, dean/lisa Summary: Humans kiss each other. Angels kill each other. Castiel distracts himself from the war he's losing.

Idiots in love | @castielific

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,622 Main Tags/Warnings: Human!cas, accidental love confession, dean has a sexual identity crisis, jealous!Dean, gay panic, oblivious!Dean Summary: "So, no God, no wings, no imminent apocalypse, what are your plans now?" Dean tries to make the question sound casual by taking a sip of his beer. "I want to have sex with a man," Cas declares, nibbling at a red vine cherry twist. He barely reacts to Dean spitting his beer all over the table and choking on his sip. (...) Cas tilts his head and adds, "I may need your help with that."

Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx | @readingprofoundbonds

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 9,729 Main Tags/Warnings: John Winchester's Parenting, Spans years Summary: Dean's love language is told not in words, but in songs. In the notes of his favorite rock band and the rhythm of their melodies. His longest unfinished work is composed of Led Zeppelin songs, chosen for the feelings they evoke. It's Dean's life, reflected into one mix and shared carefully in hopes that he would be heard and understood.

Contrition | @norahastuff

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 10,590 Main Tags/Warnings: Mark of Cain, references to s6 and Godstiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Takes place midway through s10, Castiel's Angelic Grace Summary: "The room seemed to fade around him, his gaze fixed on the window as he negotiated the church’s inconveniently arranged furnishings to approach it. Dean was vaguely aware of the sting of a pew as it knocked off his hip, but he ignored it, attention singularly focused on the familiar image printed on the glass." Dean stumbles upon a church bearing an image of Castiel, and both Dean and Cas are forced to reflect on a particularly tumultuous period in their relationship. Dean finds that a lot has changed in the intervening years, and maybe it’s finally time to address the things they’ve kept buried for far too long. Though Dean is still struggling with the Mark of Cain, and Cas with his rapidly deteriorating grace, they allow themselves to have this much-needed moment of respite.

Cleanse the Waters | @li-izumi

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 16,416 Main Tags/Warnings: Coda, Hurt/Comfort, POV Outsider, Castiel-centric (Supernatural), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Aquaphobia, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, (because canon), Canon Temporary Character Death, Dean's man pain, Dramatic use of dramatic irony, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Episode: s07e02 Hello Cruel World, Episode: s07e17 The Born-Again Identity, Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Episode: s09e06 Heaven Can't Wait, Episode: s09e10 Road Trip, Episode: s10e21 Dark Dynasty, Episode: s11e18 Hell's Angel, Episode: s13e04 The Big Empty Summary: Castiel’s multitude of sins haunt him in ways all too human, but water cannot cleanse him when he is drowning in his own guilt. Over the years, he’s tried to ignore his fear--after all, no one needs a broken angel--but he keeps failing and needing to be saved by those he should be saving. If Castiel is ever to be absolved, he must overcome his fear and walk into the water alone.

[theogonies]

poor, unfortunate soul: genshin characters as yandere

characters: diluc, yelan, xiao, sucrose, & childe

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: psychological manipulation, naive reader, implications of physical violence (diluc, xiao, childe), kidnapping/captivity (diluc, childe), stalking (sucrose, xiao), otherwise gn!reader is referred to as onee-chan once (sucrose), ANGST (childe </3), dark content, minors and ageless blogs do not interact

yeah i promised the next one would be fluff but i had to get this out of my system. barbatos forgive me.

DILUC: TREASURED POSSESSION.

If only you knew how much harder this is for him than it is for you. Diluc hates seeing you so angry and upset, as he'll tell you time and time again--preferably while he cradles you against his chest. And, well, if you must cry and fight him and curse his name, it's understandable, really. When he promised that he would remain by your side no matter what, he meant it. Even if that meant you learning to hate him.

He keeps telling himself that someday, you'll grow accustomed to never seeing beyond the walls of Dawn Winery. He's done everything within his power to make your cage a comfortable one: lavish bedding and furniture imported from the world's finest craftsmen, private libraries and supplies to furnish any hobby imaginable, even a sunlit atrium for you to enjoy the splendor of the outside world in safety. He knows that it's hard for you. Any change will inevitably require an adjustment period, but at least you have him standing at your side, loyal as ever, to get you through.

And what else was he supposed to do? No matter how many times he warned you of the dangers that lie outside Mondstadt's walls, you refused to listen, just kept gallivanting about on your adventures as if your life didn't matter to anyone but yourself.

Diluc knows the truth of how frail humans can be, though; so if you're going to keep behaving so stupidly with the precious thing that is your life, it doesn't leave him any other options than to store you away somewhere safe from harm. He knows that it's objectifying to treat you like a painting too valuable to be displayed to public eyes. But what other choice does he have?

He feels guilty for treating you so cruelly, he truly does. But he's also clever. When your stubbornness refuses to fade, when you keep fighting him and struggling to escape, you find that the servants start to disappear, one by one. And that's when you realize that he's using your own loneliness as a cudgel against you, so that when he returns to you in the early hours of morning with blood on his shirt collar and a haunted look in his eyes, when he needs your comfort most of all, you don't have any choice but to give it to him.

In Diluc's eyes, this is just what love is: a union of mutual obligation. And, to his credit, in time you both find this to be true. Because no matter where the walls stand, a home is only safe when you're both in it.

YELAN: DOUBLE AGENT.

If she weren't so perceptive, you may never have found yourself in this mess in the first place. But unlucky for you, Yelan recognized the puppy love crush you'd developed on her for what it was sooner than you did--and, with the sharp instincts of a gambler and the pragmatism of a spy, she took full advantage of the situation.

After all, there isn't much point in mastering the art of manipulation if you don't get to take something for yourself now and then. Yelan plays you like a fiddle, teasing you with little touches and praise only to rebuff your advances the moment you work up the courage to make them. It doesn't take long for you to become her favorite toy: so sweet, so patient, so deliciously naive.

It's not that she's completely cold to your affection; really, she would feel worse about her on-and-off affections, but it's not like you're not also getting something out of the situation. In exchange for your loyalty, Yelan allows you a precious glimpse into the powerful, resilient woman that lies beneath her assuaging public persona. Not many are allowed to be so close to her; fewer still are such consistent targets of her attention, hot and cold as it may be.

In time, you're even able to reveal an entirely new facet of Yelan's personality: her deep, all-abiding sense of jealousy. Never one to go into fits of rage, she still finds herself simmering with resentment every time her toy's interest is caught, however shallowly and briefly, by someone else.

More and more, she finds herself using the same tools that snared your affection in the first place to ensure that it belongs to her and only her; after all, the world is a cold and unforgiving place, isn't it? People can be so dishonest in their intentions, but to you, Yelan will always remain true. You've seen beneath the mask, and isn't it better to be a treasured plaything than that poor, lost puppy she first met?

XIAO: SCARY DOG PRIVILEGES.

There's something almost endearing about Xiao's clumsy affection for you. Such a fearsome man, and yet he can hardly speak to you without a flush in his cheeks. He fetches you crystalflies and glaze lilies to adorn your hair, shows you hot springs tucked between the mountains and stands guard while you bathe, even does your household chores as you sleep. Liyue's Guardian Yaksha lives at your beck and call.

He chases you so innocently that it's easy to forget he's not just the Guardian Yaksha, but the fearsome Dream Eater--and his adoration of you is no less relentless than his pursuit of the demons that haunt the land. And what cause could you ever have to suspect him of foul play? If he vanishes for a suspiciously long period of time, if the next time you see him he's marked with bruises and bloodstains--well, he has his own duties. Patching each others' wounds has been part of your routines for as long as you've known each other.

Come to think of it, it is strange that you've suddenly found yourself able to wander the streets alone late at night without issue; that even in the seediest of taverns, no one seems inclined to bother you. Stranger still is that whenever you think you've made a new friend they seem to ghost you, but then, some people are just unlucky, aren't they?

Besides, you can't complain; not with such a loyal Yaksha at your side, always ready to kiss away your tears with a kind of reverence that would make even gods tremble.

SUCROSE: STALKER CRUSH.

She's had her eyes on you for some time now. Not that you would be able to tell--she's made sure of that. To you, Sucrose is just another one of Mondstadt's townsfolk. Sure, her eyes seem to light up whenever she looks at you, but that's nothing to be concerned about. She's so painfully shy that even if she did have a crush, she would never do anything about it, right?

Unlike the others, Sucrose moves slowly and methodically in her machinations. She watches patiently, following you from the shadows, approaching the people you're close to to ask questions about you. Before long, she knows all your preferences: your dating history, the friends you keep, even your turn ons and turn offs. And once she's collected all the information she could possibly need (and then some), that's when she strikes.

She starts simply: an offer to help develop some new tools for your adventures in exchange for reagents that only a traveler like you would have access to. And, lo and behold, you have far more in common with this shy little alchemist than you ever would've expected. It's like she's always ready to finish your sentences for you, and such a reliable, sensitive friend, too. Despite her busy work life, she's always ready to lend a listening ear to your troubles, often with your favorite flavor of ice cream and one of her snuggly plushies in hand, fully prepared to comfort you.

Little do you know all the work she's done to reach this level of trust with you: the months of preparation just to speak to you for the first time, the long nights spent reading all your favorite books, the pictures of you she keeps pinned to her walls. Little do you know that you're not the reason why all your romantic endeavors seem to keep failing.

It's just that, when Sucrose looks up at you with those big, glassy eyes and calls you her onee-chan, it's so easy to forget that you hardly know a single thing about her.

CHILDE: CHILDHOOD SWEETHEART.

You lost your love a long time ago. Intellectually, you've known that to be true since you were fourteen and found your first heartbreak. But it's still so easy to look in Ajax's eyes and pretend you see the same light in them that you saw before.

It was better when he first came home. At least then, he was content to leave you as you'd always been: just another of Morepesok's villagers, the one person he could trust to keep an eye on his family in his absence. You cared for his siblings, and you wrote him letters, and sometimes, he would come home just long enough for you to pretend that everything was as it always had been.

Sometimes you still wonder what happened: whether something snapped when the boy you loved became a Harbinger, or whether you were just too stupid to see how deeply the Abyss changed him. It's a useless thought exercise, but at least it's something to keep you busy as you wander the halls of Tartaglia's wing in the Fatui headquarters, waiting for his return.

It was easier at first, when he kept you shut away in your bedroom, playacting your doting husband even as you spat on him and cursed his name. He would cajole you with lies and empty promises, that he was the same man he'd always been, that he was forced to kidnap you like this in order to protect you from his enemies. But his taste for spitfires had finally backfired on him, because even as the months passed, you refused to give in, blanketing your fear in hatred.

But Childe is tricky; and while he may have changed, you haven't. He knows exactly what makes you tick, which buttons to press to gain your trust. All it takes is a door left unlocked, your desperation too feverish to question why, and you'll quickly discover that his fellow Harbingers harbor a thousand horrors for every nightmare you've dreamed of the Abyss and every glimpse you've caught of the ruthless killer that lies beneath your lover's pleasant facade. And when those monsters are the only alternatives, at least you still have familiar arms to fall back into.

So you acquiesce, trading your spirit for a semblance of freedom. And in time, you'll learn to believe that even if the Tsaritsa's Childe will never be your Ajax, you can learn to love him just the same.

[flurrys-creativity]

Ateez Seonghwa Masterlist

banner made by @daemour

Smiley Catalogue:

🥰 = Fluff 😁 = Slice of life 🤪 = Humour 🧜‍♀️ = Fantasy

❤ = Romance ⚡ = Angst 💣 = Sensitive themes (death, etc.)

🦄 = Hybrid 🥵 = Smut 😏 = Suggestive

Last update: May 2024

Series:

By the gods (Fantasy AU) 🧜‍♀️🥰⚡❤🥵😏💣🤪

A simple masterlist for several one shots resolving around Seonghwa being a god or having to deal with a god or having god-like powers. All of the one shots are based on pictures (sometimes also fanart) of him. It’s also Topaz’ fault that I started this.

One shots:

Ambivalence (Demon AU) 🥰🧜‍♀️⚡💣

Birthday Drabble 🥰🧜‍♀️

Halloween Special 🥰🧜‍♀️❤

The monsters under your bed are real and everyone desperately tries to keep their limbs within the safety of their bed. But you had enough of this world and didn’t care if some monster would take you. Therefore you hadn’t thought of meeting a demon, who wasn’t that demonic and decided to help you instead of taking your soul.

Frore 🦄🥰⚡💣❤

Part of the Winter Hearts event. After you rescued an Arctic Fox hybrid, who never experienced the world outside of his cage, you showed him whatever you could think of. With the winter season approaching you had the chance to let him experience something his hybrid part had yearned for.

Anabiosis 🧜‍♀️🥰❤⚡💣

A lot of people were instantly scared or afraid of Seonghwa, keeping their distance to him. Not you though. Instead you were drawn to the mysterious man, maybe even harbouring a crush on him. Would that crush stay once you found out about his dark secret?

Misguided 😁🥰⚡

Part of the jealous teezers collab. At first Seonghwa had no problem that you went to a concert but the second he discussed it with his members his feelings turned sour.

Spy academy ⚡🥰❤ WIP

You trained to be the best and thankfully you had someone in your class, who wanted to be on top as well, making him to your rival. So what happens when you got sent on a mission with him?

Miscellaneous:

Bobby pin (drabble) 🥰😁❤

Requested. A game of twister, hair that is growing too long and a bobby pin. That was all Seonghwa needed to fall in love with you. Maybe even quite literally.

09.17pm (timestamp)😁❤🥰😏

Seonghwa only wanted to take a shower but your comment let him discover something else.

12.19am (timestamp) 😁🥰❤⚡

For the first time you joined Seonghwa during a fight night.

Kintsugi (drabble) 🦄🥰

Coming back to the ceramic store in your human form after you created quite the chaos as a cat felt off but you had to make sure Seonghwa wasn't too mad at you.

Promise (drabble) 😁💣⚡❤

After a ship wreck there seemed no hope to get rescued but Seonghwa couldn't just let you go.

Tongueday (drabble) 😁🥵❤

Part of the lemon week. Double the roommates meant double the pleasure. At least when Yeosang caught you half naked in the hallway and Seonghwa decided to join.

Secretive ft. Wooyoung (drabble) 🧜‍♀️🥰🤪

Keeping your new little alien pet a secret from your captain wasn't as easy as you had hoped.

[gggoldfinch]

brrrrrrr art dump for the tfp self insert oc my childhood self could only dream of 🤯 I drew these back in July but have been thinking about them again recently. This is so embarrassing but I'm so proud of how these character sheets came out, but I can't post them without context so here we goooooo (oc info at the bottom!!!!!!😭)

Embarrassing au & oc info time!!!!!! (tw for vague discussion of non-human self-harm in 10th bullet point):

Okay so basically to preface: in my wip fic (wip is a gross exaggeration), everything remains canonically accurate to TFP except for the fact I use my Magic Fanfic Writer Powers to incorporate ridiculous Cybertronian mysticism canon into it for the sole purpose of furthering my self indulgent plot armor via cyberforming (cyberforming being when organic material becomes that of Cybertronian-make through means of mysticism and/or science)

Marian (unabashed tradgoth self insert) starts off as human. She gets picked up by the Cons while smashed drunk one night bc they think she has info on the Bots (found her bc she was lurking on online forums asking too many questions about big robot aliens bc she once saw them brawling and wanted answers), then she just ends up being kept alive and kept around as a pet/team mascot/ emotional support human, because hey if the Bots have one then maybe humans can be of some use

After a while Marian ends up forming a bond with Starscream (and KO to a lesser extent) after they both end up treating each other with compassion and respect (wow! trauma-bonding!). She kinda definitely falls desperately in love with him (and thinks it's unrequited but jk!). Angst & hurt/comfort abound! Gratuitous usage of mass-displacement device for nsfw purposes! You didn't hear that from me...

She is accidentally killed during the Battle on Cybertron (ca. season 3) by being hit with a stray plasma blast.

Here is where AU material comes in lol!!!!!!!

With the Well of AllSparks alive once again, in an act of desperation SS leaves her body at the edge of the well and actually prays for once in his miserable life. Through a mystical act of pity or mercy or whatever, a fresh spark combines with her own approximation of a soul and cyberforms her corpse and resurrects/ reincarnates her. She's herself, with all her old memories— but also something new, with all-new potential. No one knows wtf is going on lol

She becomes the first mech created on "New" Cybertron. "Cyberform-forged" is the term used for her, making her something of a new race (in the same way the Terrans are a new race), and is more of a mystic anomaly than anything (largely because there is no opportunity to recreate the event).

She's formed with a Vosnian Seeker frame and Cybertronian alt mode. Her frame is weather resistant: built to tolerate and fly through high winds and dangerous weather (Cybertronian and Terran) and relies more on brute force than grace in aviation. This means she is bulky rather than slim and aerodynamic like SS. She's a revival of the (near?) extinct class (if we're going by Prime!canon then Starscream is the only confirmed Vosnian Seeker left). Why Primus decided that cranking out new Vosnians would be a good idea is beyond everyone; everyone is too busy wondering how tf cyberforming works and what the consequences of it are to really question it.

Physically, she's not overtly femme— more androgynous, which is on brand for her Vosnian build. She's top-heavy with large pauldrons, shoulders double the width of her hips. Her new frame reflects her old human body in a very rough, vague way— only enough to be noticeable to those who really knew her before. She applies face paint by hand like her old makeup, and paints one servo red to match how she used to wear her nail polish. She's shorter than SS, around 30-ish feet tall (whereas he pushes 35'). She doesn't have a very good grasp on how her wings emote, therefore anyone who can read Seeker body language can always tell exactly how she's feeling.

She suffers with severe ptsd, depression, and body dysmorphia/ dysphoria as a result of the cyberforming and her human death, and semi-often has moments of panic and distress wherein she self-harms in an attempt to undo what's been done. In a potent mix of lingering human neurodivergency & the jarring biological shift, she often gets overwhelmed by her new body, notably her biomechanical functions: her optics cause a significant amount of stress on a regular basis, to the point where visual "notifications" and all other miscellaneous visual obstructions have to be disabled in order for her to function. This means no scanning data, etc, without purposefully reactivating the internal procedures required for the task. She also has a lot of trouble coping with the lack of sexual dimorphism. Shortly after her "awakening," she brutalized herself due to severe confusion and psychological distress (see the second to last image :( ) and KO had to sedate and mend her.

Every who encounters her and knows her story kinda assumes she just "came back" with a processor malfunction (or if they don't know her story, think she was just traumatized by the war), which isn't totally wrong. Knockout is one of her major supporters thru this and professionally thinks she probably needs a mnemosurgeon to fix her, but can't find any to contact so soon post-war.

She's rather clumsy, and takes a while to acclimate to such a different body (it also doesn't help that Seekers tend to have disproportionally long limbs, as well as cumbersome wings). She smacks things and other mechs with her wings, crushes things in her servos, basically she severely underestimates her own strength and size

One perk to her new body is that she can stream music directly into her processor, which is a function she abuses often to drown everything else out. There are functions she couldn't even dream of before: she can disable pain processors, turn off sight and hearing like throwing a switch, disable various biomechanical functions. She doesn't need to breathe like a human, or expel waste. Energon tastes like battery acid and firecrackers, but hey, she can turn off "taste" processors too.

She's afraid of herself at times, and by extension is afraid of intimacy too. She's afraid she's too different now, in a foreign body she can't seem begin understanding. She feels burdened by expectations; she's not a real Vosnian Seeker, she's not even a real Cybertronian in the way that counts— she is a freakish amalgamation of human memories and a soul stuffed into a shell made new especially for her, despite her having had no say in the matter... Or, at least, that's what she thinks. Those closest to her think she's a miracle and are thrilled to still have her, indefinitely now. Before when she was human, SS had been frustrated and genuinely afraid of feeling anything remotely positive towards her, because of how tragically short human life spans are (and his fears had been proven valid when she was killed). Now he has Marian forever, and while coping with his own problems post-war, he cares for her and teaches her how to be a noble Seeker.

YIPPEEEEEEE

[daifukumochiin]

Summary: Sasuke's orderly life at elite Sairiumu Academy is disrupted by the arrival of Hinata, a timid transfer student whose obvious crush on him, a young man dedicated to his craft and his current relationship, stirs unease. (Initial SasuSaku with SasuHina endgame, modern Norse myth AU, high school, angst, romance, photography, postmodern-ish fic). Rated T

LIGHTS,

BOWS, and

MISTLETOES

an entry for SasuHina Month 2024, Day 27 : Forget and Remember

(for @peachy-hina, since December)

ffnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14369143/1/Lights-Bows-and-Mistletoes

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57030778

Part 2: Bows

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Dear Mother and Sister, farewell!

Your Nanna may go to her Balder. Our lives were so closely interwoven

That even in death we are mated–

—Cornelia Steketee Hulst, Balder's Death

x

It was Hanabi‘s thirteenth birthday at the Byakugan Estate.  Hinata, sixteen, dressed in a modest but stylish Buon Giorno Armani ensemble, watched her sister return to the stage donning her third ball gown for the evening as the servants wheeled in a trolley carrying a three-tier cake adorned with fresh flowers and pink diamonds. The sisters had invited their friends, and their parents had invited business partners' relatives. They all sang the "Happy Birthday" song. As soon as the final notes lingered, the lights were dimmed, giving eminence to the pink cake’s warmly glowing candles. Hanabi leaned forward and blew them out. There was applause. A server passed by with peach-scented flutes. Hinata stepped a foot forward to hug Hanabi. But just before then, it happened.

It wasn’t gradual, no. Mercilessly and brutally, memories swooped up from within her with a skull-splitting ache. She howled at the pain, at images of resplendent faraway places she had never seen in her present life which had only known lofty opulence, of persons dear and yet unknown in the now, of home called Breidablik, of Hodor’s terrified face with a bow in hand who, being blind, could only imagine that something had gone horribly wrong; of Loki’s grin just before he disappeared in a mist. And herself, Nanna, with dearest Baldur, an arrow stuck to his chest, laying bloodied in her arms, the light in his eyes, in the strands of his hair fizzing out, the early morning glow of his complexion fading.

The cry that tore her throat was raw. The ugly force of it doubled her over, and she crumpled to the floor, clutching her chest tight as she strove breath over the sharp, frosted pieces of what shattered there. She wasn’t amid Aesir anymore—albeit her present parents and their friends were still powerful people over here in lowly Midgard—and when she came to look at her hands, they were clean, her nails coated in Funny Bunny just for her human sister’s birthday. Her wailing reverberated through the halls, but it could never fill the sunk hole that caved in from the surface formerly paved and appearing solidly passable by her forgetfulness, absorbed by the affairs of her human life.

The day after the incident, news outlets buzzed with stories about the first Byakugan Princess causing a scene at her sister’s birthday party. Online speculation ran wild—some suggesting that, because she didn’t usually stand out, she’d gone to extremes for attention, bratty and inelegant. Doctors and experts weighed in with a barrage of diagnoses: schizotypal personality disorder, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression, delusional disorder… mainly, that she had a sickness of the mind. Her mother had ordered for her library to be cleared up of all the fiction books fearing the fairytales had instigated this somewhat. But they all missed that hers was a sickness of the heart, a matter striking at the very depths of her soul. 

There couldn’t be anything lonelier: she had come back to life, only to forget about Baldur for a long, long time; she finally remembered him, but he was nowhere to be found.

Struck with a malaise that doesn’t even know where to begin searching, Hinata, once Nanna, had never known the comfort of sleep again. Because even in dreams, Baldur wasn't there.

go to Chapter List>

[oceanlipgloss]

TALISMAN

LUKE. (PLATONIC)

+ warnings: angst, implicit mentions of eventual death.

+ my mc is the heroine, so the pronouns are feminine.

Wide went the little angel's eyes, like two big blueberry pies. In the whirlpool, gold and blue swirled together.

Her clarification had shocked him; what did she mean, she wouldn't be going to heaven? She couldn't possibly have chosen the devils!

He wanted to believe that, as much as she loved the seven rebels, in the end she would make the right decision. Yet, no ghost of a lie haunted the warmth of her chocolate eyes.

It was true that he had come to welcome some demons into his heart and accept the sinful shortcomings of others, but he would not stand for something so preposterous.

How could he let such a pure, kind soul—her soul, nonetheless—reside in the underworld and nestle in the hands of dark creatures, never to be blessed again? That was beyond wrong; it crossed all boundaries and spiralled into sin.

Resolve sparked within him. He would protect her from damnation; there had to be a manner in which he could convince her!

His hope withered too early, however.

She told him about how the decision was never hers to make; it had already been taken for her since birth, or perhaps long before that. And if she had somehow ever had that sort of chance, it slipped through her fingers the moment she forged her first pact; after all, was any bond with a demon not a dagger to one's oath to God?

She said that she loved the fallen angels who had long ago been banished by his Father, and no exception was their gentle blond brother—deeply she cherished them all; they were her treasure. Wasn't she also much too fond of hell's cunning prince and his quiet butler, he whose powers may rival those of the Lord? They were such dear friends to her.

There was one secret she would quietly hold until she lay in her grave, though. The little boy, like everyone else, needed not know of it. So, if that secret ever found itself on her tongue, she would again swallow it, no matter how bitter.

She would not talk about her unconditional love for the demon that had once saved the young angel's life—the demon whom the angel himself had thanked and praised. Why must anyone know about how that love sweetened the marrow in her bones and made her heart ache? Such a thing would give them nothing but pain.

And the child!

Taking his innocent faith into her grasp and crushing it was too cruel a feat. It was for his own sake—knowing her truth—but she still recoiled at the heartbroken look on his sweet face. Did that not mean that she had tampered with his faith in her, in a way?

By nudging him towards reality, she was protecting him, giving him a talisman—her own blessing—that warded off greater disappointment; and yet, there were times when even a shield could turn into a double-edged sword. But despite it being so, she did not regret attacking his hope, as that was for the best—salvation from falling victim to false dreams.

After all the young angel had heard, nothing remained vague. She saw silver flecks of awareness sprinkle his gaze. He was sad—so much so that he could see how, for some time, sorrow and melancholy would ever so indulgently keep stealing the opportunity and robbing him of his motivation to bake.

For in his Father's eyes, once a human binds themself to even one demon, they sever their ties with him. What did his Father think, then, of the human who not only shared pacts with the angels that had once rebelled against his rule, but offered them the purest form of her affection, too?

Now, she silently asked herself: what did the Lord think of her, the human who was hopelessly in love with a demon—in love with him beyond all hope and reason?

Tears glittered in the child's blue eyes. It was all true—her care towards the damned and the sinners. Everything she had done smeared her luck and sent her on the path of one fate and no other—but it wasn't fair. All that time, kindness had been her sole guide.

Unfair. No matter how much he tried not to dwell on it, the word stuck to him like a leech. Doubt might cause him to question his Father's law, his judgment...that wasn't only not right; it was an apple absolutely forbidden. He vowed not to allow himself a single bite.

Still, when he had once imagined days in the Celestial Realm in which he would show her around his homeland and they would whip up desserts for Michael together, when he now thought about how even Simeon was allowed up there no longer, it was hard not to cry. He felt all alone, like the loneliness was constricting his fragile form.

Thinking about her destiny up ahead was also too much to bear. He wished and wished that there was some way to change things, but it was merely a fool's errand. A pretty hope he one day had. He knew that now.

His Father always ensured that everything was right, perfect and lovely; and even though her fate would keep her by the side of those she loved and so give her the truest of happiness, it was still vile, unjust and distressing. Would he really be able to leave her to its claws that were hungrily waiting?

+note: I've always thought it funny how Luke and Simeon sometimes talk like MC is going to heaven—even though that's impossible; so, I gave the subject a painful twist.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[teencopandthesourwolf]

FIAT LUX

written for @sterekdrabblesgonelong using the @sterekdrabbles 23/11/22 challenge words that were: PART, MATTER and SPOT with the end-of-month theme of HONESTY.

sterek fic, MATURE, 2245 words, post-nogitsune stiles, stiles stilinski has PTSD, heavy angst, imagined body horror, healing, getting together, falling in love, POV stiles.

READ IT HERE ON AO3

.

"Hey, you good?"

Somebody spoke. Stiles remembers that. He also remembers thinking, at the time, how it sounded a lot like Derek's voice.

He'd been right. Of fucking course he'd been right. 

Stiles was scrambling to process what had been said to him, alongside trying to figure out what exactly was happening to his still-wobbly sense of self.

"Stiles? Are you okay?" 

Stiles couldn't answer. Couldn't get any sounds out of his strangled throat, nor force his suddenly arid mouth to move and make the right shapes needed for words.

Everything was muddying all over again, his mind and body becoming a wasteland in a heartbeat. He was barren, a damned apocalypse. Truth be told, since his possession, Stiles was just an empty shell, only pretending to be human. And now his memories were flashing before his eyes, having once again become a trailer for his fucked-up, one-man indie zombie movie. Although—no, actually. No, that wasn't right. This wasn't a trailer. The Horrors were back in full, movie-length, and were now playing out their incredibly specific brand of Existential Dread right before Stiles' glassy eyes in all of their glorious, terrible technicolour.

Spawn of the Dead: Double Feature!

Grab yourself an extra large bucket of Salty'n'Sweet and settle in for the midnight showing.

How, though?

How the hell could the parasitic evil which they'd ended—it absolutely had gone, it had!—be so inexplicably here? Like, right here and now, delightedly wrapping one crooked hand around Stiles's stringy neck while using the other to dig into Stiles's already bent-way-out-of-shape psyche, sinking its dirty claws in all the way again until Stiles couldn't think or see straight or even speak.

How could the thing they'd destroyed still have him so very firmly in its clutches?

In his peripheral there were now only blurred-out, bony digits where his fingers were supposed to be; Stiles couldn't stop the violent shaking as he looked down at his hands and felt bile rise in his throat that tasted of reams and reams of filthy bandages rapidly climbing his esophagus, in a far too-real scene from some disgusting, stop-animation nightmare.

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten! 

Oh, fuck no. 

It was here. Even if it wasn't really; it was. Here, crippling each of his faculties, one by one with a sickening sort of ease, the ghost of it shutting down his capacity to process his surroundings, to operate his body correctly, to function as a human being, even if only a pretend one. It was too quickly obliterating his ability to just be.

To be Stiles.

Void.

Oh, God. 

No! No! No! No! No! No! No! 

Breath became cement in his lungs. 

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten! 

Re-appeared and yet not, the spectral memory of the Nogitsune was once more burrowing its way beneath pale skin and fragile bone, digging a six-foot deep grave ready to bury Stiles's power to answer a simple question and say No, no, I'm not okay and I really need some help here, and so very easily quashing his in-vain attempts at doing anything at all about this runaway train of a shit-show situation.

Chaos.

He'd lost control again. 

This time it was aftermath. Or aftershocks. Or afterburn or afterbirth or some other after-metaphor for absolute guilt.

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten! 

"Can you hear me, Stiles?"

Stiles wasn't really there anymore.

Stiles was spiralling, fast, due to that broken part of his soul ripping apart all over again and gaping open, a casm, a disgraced depiction of his abject shame for his past actions that now flowed out from the ghoulish wound like spilled wine. He looked down to see invisible gut-shot viscera tumbling out of him, staining his shirt and shoes like claret on crisp white sheets and instantly soaking into his skin and muscles and right through to the marrow of his bones, infiltrating his forever-infected anatomy in a strange sort of self-perpetuating vicious cycle. His heart, full of holes, was leaking its last vestiges of goodness, draining right out of him, his body now just a humanoid estuary. Other Stiles Juices added to the polluted mix—tears and adrenaline and cortisol, all becoming a veritable hurricane in his brain and chest and belly, swirling around viciously, dangerously—until it had drowned out his voice and drenched his autonomy in a chorus of non-existent Let me in! Until he'd lost his will completely to a bottomless whirlpool of contempt.

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten! 

Oh, Void had truly left its mark. 

And so there he was. Just a stricken, hyperventilating five-foot-ten jagged fissure wearing his clothes and his face. A mask was all that was left of Mieczysław Stilinski: Stiles, just a stupid boy in the body of a not-quite man, who was suffocating in the mould and the rot of himself.

The intangible had brimmed over and drip-drip-dripped until it was gushing freely and spilling right out of him and onto the floor, becoming an epic tidal wave of oblivion that would splash and tarnish and permanently stain everything and everybody around Stiles, all that he loved. 

Again. 

Only this insanity wasn't invisible, not to him. It was a vivid Hieronymus Bosch knock-off. A never-ending bloodbath painted in brushstrokes of the richest of colours. Stiles was an oily waking nightmare, a moving tapestry of his own creation that was playing over and over and over on the glitched-out loop that was his faulty VHS mind.

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten! 

"Don't step in it," he'd whispered. 

He doesn't remember if Derek had answered. He doesn't remember much of anything after that. 

Derek, just like everybody else, was poisoned by Stiles's toxicity. Forever marked, just as Stiles had been—because of Stiles.

Stiles, with his bony hands that hid those undetectable tattoos in blacks and blues and mauves that were the inky Rorschach contusions of all his loved one's cuts and bruises; Stiles, with his immortal pattern of dead leaves that twisted along the gnarled branches of his inner Lichtenberg tree; Stiles, with his fear-induced awful decisions that had lead to the lives of so many being taken; Stiles, with his murderous intent—borrowed or not, it made no fucking difference in the end; Stiles, with all of this horror; Stiles, with his blackened soul that was now only recognisable as death.

Yet, in stark contrast, his haemoglobin-bright red ravaged veins were very much not dead. He felt them, now, itching beneath the surface of his skin, unreal yet so real and becoming vine-like, pulsating and stretching out their long creepy creeper-fingers to reach down inside of him, clawing their way back home to the black hole that was his centre. And they were growing. He could feel them swelling in his arms and his legs and his face. Alive. Becoming stronger and stronger, they traversed alongside his nervous system like a road map, journeying through what was left of his tattered existence and getting so big and so fat they too were branches and were somehow both choking him and splitting him clean open—Stiles, roots and all—his thoughts and actions reduced to nothing more than a fractured glass pane in an already damaged photo frame which threatened to crack and turn him into thousands of thousand-year-old shards of nothing but absolute destruction.

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten! 

Out, damned spot. 

Maybe Derek had said more words. Begged and pleaded for Stiles to talk to him, to make sense of things for him. For Stiles to tell him what the hell was going on.

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten! 

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten! 

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnine—

ten? 

Or was it eleven, or twelve that time? 

Too late. 

Rip. Tear. Shatter. 

Stiles had collapsed under the weight of his own mistakes.

*

When something in his brain managed to press the pause button on the horror show, there was only numbness.

Nothing. 

Then remorse had once more seeped through his pores like a poisonous gas, a hazy mist of it eventually filling him and triumphing over delirium because, after some time—minutes, hours, days, maybe—Stiles was finally able to communicate again.

Well, sort of.

There were four words he had to offer.

"It's all my fault." 

And as he'd made frantic attempts to once again count his uncontrollably shaking fingers, he'd whimpered those words on repeat, for an indeterminate amount of time and in a thousand different voices, none of which sounded like his own.

"It's all my fault."

onetwothree—start again.

"It's all my fault."

onetwothreefourfivesixseven—shit.

"It's all my fault."

onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnine—

"Hey, I've got you."

Derek?

If he wasn't dreaming, it meant Derek hadn't left him. He should have. Stiles was to blame for so very many terrible, terrible things.

But Derek had stayed and minded him, regardless.

He took Stiles in, after that. Fed him. Forced him to wash. Watched him as closely as he ended up holding him, in a way that he shouldn't. In a way that nobody ever should because Stiles was a travesty. Undeserving. But Derek? Derek was good and so Derek did it anyway. And those big arms folding around Stiles broke Stiles all over again, broke him impossibly more. Only it was a different kind of break this time around. Maybe not gentle so much as it was firm and necessary. A resetting of bones.

Then, somehow, slowly, painfully, Derek helped to put Stiles back together again, which was nothing short of a Herculean feat.

That Humpty Dumpty Stiles, he'd spent weeks sobbing and going mute, sobbing and going mute, and sobbing and sobbing and shouting and shrieking and screaming the loft down, bringing his feral nightmares back to life and out into the open and into the here and now, into Derek's already too-difficult world.

Stiles was just a transparent bag of those reset bones. Fused with fear and sorrow and so much sin, glued up all wrong, and held together with tears and snot and guilt and shame—and an ancient, evil-tainted love; a love possessed. 

Until he wasn't. Until there were hints of a new kind of love shimmering around the edges of their lives. Something quiet. Something lighter.

A love made up of Stay here with me and Stay another night and consistently screaming into the dawn but never any pity nor judgement and whole days of silence and then communication via eyebrows and heartbroken Fuck Yous and last-minute notes left on the refrigerator door and second and third and fourth, fifth, sixth chances and just being there and Shut Ups with no real heat behind them and listening and listening and listening some more and sandwiches left untouched until there were sandwiches half-eaten and finally sandwiches scarfed down at the speed of light again and conversations with thumbs-up and thumbs-down and Don't Call Me Dude and comfortable silences and unexpected classical music afternoons and awfully bad puns and quality time spent alone together and Wanna watch the Discovery channel? and smiling eyes and crappy paper planes and precarious mountains of hot buttered toast and stolen borrowed too-big Henley's and thrifted old sci-fi novels and English to Latin dictionaries and games of PSYCH! from opposite sides of the same room and eyes being rolled into the backs of thick skulls and gallons and gallons of Dirty Chai Lattes and a far too-kind and outstandingly stubborn asshole's absolute forgiveness and furtively holding hands in the dark and weighted long looks that said I know, it's okay—I'm broken too and the silent question of Do you want me? and the tactile answer being Of course I do, you idiot. Of fucking course I do. 

It was a love that made Nogitsune love never, ever love. A real love that shook its head softly at such dreadful affection.

Werewolf trumps Demon, every damn time.

* 

Stiles might not be able to laugh—at least not properly, not yet. He's getting there, though. The quirk of his lips today is bigger than yesterday's meagre twitch. And who knows, tomorrow could even bring a grin. Stranger things, right? 

There's still pain. Stigma. Suffering. Still so, so much work to do. Only now it's manageable. A touch easier.

Derek's touch.

There are many more hard days and nights to come, Stiles knows that, but he is nothing if not single-minded and he's making steady progress. Every day, he's mending. Thanks to Derek and Stiles's determination, the fissure that he'd become is closing up and he is no longer infected with quite so much self-doubt. There's scar tissue, sure. How could there not be?

But Stiles is healing.

He's being replenished and renewed, little by little, bit by bit, and at long last he's finally finding his voice again. The right tone, a familiar pitch—and it's strongest in those times he utters a particular word. It's a name, actually, so often spoken as a mantra, or mouthed delicately like a prayer.

"Derek?" 

Of fucking course. 

"I'm here."

No more counting fingers. 

As it happens, Stiles Stilinski is finding his way back to his life and to himself with the help of Derek Hale, sometimes stumbling and yes, often having to crawl from the oppressive blackness, dragging himself through it using only his non-existent fingernails and stubborn will, barely making it out alive by the skin of his teeth.

Yet he knows, now, that he'll conquer that darkness. Because he's not alone anymore. There's help at hand, in his hand, where Stiles holds a candle that burns just as brightly as the Sun, the Moon and the Truth, and won't ever blow out—not while shielded by the shape of the 'wolf.

Fiat Lux. 

Let there be light.

[luna-is-lost]

UnderWelcomed

PART FOUR

Sans POV:

They just keep coming. The humans… they won’t stop. How can I do anything when I’m trying to cover for ‘Dyne and Fluffy Buns…

“undyne where are they comin’ from?!” I shout as I shatter another soul. “Look, Sans, all of us are tired, but you can’t give up and sleep! Please, do it for Paps?!” “why do you think i’m doing this, he’s out there somewhere… at least i hope. still, isn’t a bit repetitive, what if they are attacking other monsters somewhere else and this is a distraction?!” I hate to lose my chill, laidback persona, but Papyrus… This has to end the horrible game… Frisk can’t reset since they gave up. If I lose Papyrus, he isn’t coming back. “Sorry, Sans… Look out behind you!” I teleport/short cut out of the way, only to see a human hit the spot I was just at. “WHOA!” Fish Face is impressed, heh, no time to focus on that. A few blasters and spears take care on the last of the humans. Where is the king? “ ‘dyne where’s asgore?” “ I don’t know…” Lethargy hits me like a truck. Too much power was wasted on this battle. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I let my eyes slip shut for just a second. … “SANS!” Wha…? ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Someone grabs my are harshly. A human. I pull away, but I can’t get my arm out of her grasp. Undyne is coming quickly, but the human injects my with something that doubles how tired I am. Maybe just a bit of sleep wouldn’t hurt. It’s not like it matters anyway. We lost before we even started, but now it would cost many lives… Including mine and Pap’s, I guess… maybe… nothing ever really means anything to me anymore… was hoping to see the stars for a bit longer… Undyne is yelling, Papyrus and the king is missing, on nights like these, skeletons like me, shouldn’t be contemplating life with a half conscious mind…

……………. The world goes dark ……………..

A week later ( Sans POV)

Beep��� Beep… Beep… “nghh…” Everything hurts my arm especially. The lights blind me when I try to open my eyes. “S-S-S-S-Sans! Y-your a-a-awake!” That’s Alphys… I open my eyes, blinking hard. “heya, honestly i wasn’t expecting to see ya so soon.” I give her my signature smile. “S-Sans, you’ve b-been asleep for a w-week…” She looks almost in tears. “heh, i always was a lazybones.” I wink and smile at her. Hiding my panic that Papyrus isn’t here and the surprise I haven’t dusted. I sit up using the support of my arm. Wait… my arm? My arm?! “my arm?!” I look down at my shoulder with a robotic limb attached to it. I pass out….

PART 5 Thursday

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Book of the Damned: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Charlie found the Book of the Damned which has the spell to undo the curse of the Mark. You've made yourself clear but they're not listening to you. What better way to show Dean how serious you are than to hit him where it hurts: Your kids, Sam, and Charlie.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

You walk in from the kitchen to the library when you stop short just before you're seen. Sam and Dean are talking inside with Cas on speakerphone. Do they know you're here? Do they care? They walk on eggshells whenever you're around so it's refreshing to hear what they talk about when you're not around.

"Can I just kill him now?" Cas groans.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Metatron says from the seat next to him.

So, he's got Metatron, huh? Interesting.

"No, we need him alive for now. Look, after he gives you your Grace back, you can do whatever you want with him," Sam answers.

You'd love nothing more than to drive an angel blade through his pathetic little heart.

"He's human now. How do you kill one slowly and torturously?"

Or maybe just a regular blade will work. A human Metatron brings a smirk to your face.

"I am like two feet from you."

"Anything on the Mark of Cain?" Cas asks, ignoring his human passenger.

The smirk on your face disappears when you hear Cas' words. They're still looking for it. Dean lied to you. You have two options: One, you can go inside and confront them, causing you to either hurt them badly or kill them. Two, you can wait to see what they're up to and figure out how you can benefit from it only to kill them afterwards. You like that plan. You stay hidden and listen in on their conversation.

"No. I mean, I've been digging for something, for anything, but I don't know Cas."

"There is an answer out there. We will find a cure for Dean and Y/N."

Unlikely. Even if they do find it, you'll destroy it in front of them so that they can see all their hard work is gone only to realize you'll be stuck like this forever. Now only if you knew where your soul was, you'd destroy that, too.

"I don't know why you'd want to cure those little firecrackers now. They're finally interest--" Cas punches Metatron in the face based on the sound the human makes. "Ooh!"

"Keep digging," Cas says to the brothers.

Cas hangs up the phone and you're about to go inside when you hear them continue the conversation.

"I have been checking through everything again, double-checking, triple-checking, and--"

"The Mark is a curse," Dean cuts his brother off.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam scoffs.

"No, I mean it's an actual curse. Listen, I forgot to mention something about our run-in with Crowley and his mother. Rowena told Crowley that the Mark is a curse. We've dealt with curses. The cure is out there somewhere. Y/N is getting suspicious, okay? You have to work harder. I know it's not fair to ask that of you but she's close to finding out we're still looking for it."

You weren't but it's nice to know that he has that fear in him whenever you walk into a room. If they succeed and take this gift off you, you'll be left with no soul. Your body will crave the power it once had. Will you still have magic if it's removed? You don't think so. The Mark gave you magic to help feed it. Without the Mark, you won't have magic. Scarlet Witch magic is much different than Sapphire Witch magic. Both are powerful but chaos magic is so much more deadly and unpredictable. You love that. You won't part with it.

Sam's phone rings and Dean decides to answer it since Sam is still looking through books.

"Winchester Accounting. How may I help you?" His tone goes serious. "Charlie? What's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm exhausted and I'm bleeding. I'm in a phone booth. A phone booth. I didn't know these things existed outside of Bill and Ted's."

"Okay. Hey, take a deep breath, kiddo. We're both sitting here. Tell me what happened. Why are you bleeding? "

"Is Y/N around?" she pants.

"No."

Are they really that stupid that they won't check where you are? You guess they are.

"I got shot. Did you know dental floss works great on stitches? I only passed out twice, and I'm pretty sure my wound is now minty fresh."

"Charlie, you probably need to go to a hospital," Sam says.

"No, no, I'm fine. I just have to get someplace safe. These guys are still after me."

"What guys? Who?"

"Some southern fried d-bags. They've been after me since I dug up 'The Book of the Damned'."

Book of the Damned? Now this is where things get interesting. Maybe you don't kill anyone yet. Maybe you hold off until you know more about this book. Something like that must mean more power for you and the Mark.

"You found it? Where?"

"After some near misses and some broken into museums, I found historical documents that led to a monastery in Spain. It burned down years ago, left for dead, but I had this hunch about it. Turned out I was right."

"What does it say about the Mark?"

"I have no fracking idea. The language it's written in... I've never seen anything like it. I found some research notes in the monastery crypt, though, by the Friar who buried it. 'The Book of the Damned' is a spell book for creating or undoing any kind of damnation there is. If we translate this thing, I think we can get the Mark of Cain off you and Y/N, Dean."

No, they won't but it will be fun to let them think they will.

"Charlie, you're a genius," Dean smiles.

"A genius fugitive. These dudes following me are well-trained. One of them keeps talking about his family."

"Family? Did you get a name?"

"No clue. I spotted a tattoo on one of them. Might be a family crest. It seemed occultly. As soon as the book was out of the ground, they were all over me. I don't know how much more running I got left in me. They're tracking the book somehow."

"Alright, then we need to get you off the grid, Charlie. Where are you right now?" Sam asks.

"Just south of Des Moines."

"Okay, our friend Bobby, has a whole bunch of cabins scattered all around, places for hunters to crash. It's not much but there's some gear, lore books, and stuff to keep you busy til we get there."

"Okay, bring snacks and every Men of Letters decoder ring there is. This book is old and scary, and I've never seen anything like it."

Old and scary, huh? You bet you're scarier. The thought of it being so dangerous is enough to return the smirk to your face. Okay, you have to think about what you're going to do here. If you walk into the room right now and declare you're going with them, they're going to know you want the book destroyed. You have to come up with some reason they'll believe that will give you an in. Once you do that, you'll destroy the book and their hopes of ever finding a cure.

Once you do that, you're going to hunt down your children and take them away from Dean. His time has expired. It's time for you to make good on your threats.

"So, road trip?" you ask when you step foot into the library. The look on Sam and Dean's faces almost has you laughing. They look so scared. You can't wait to see their faces when they've realized they lost. "Yes, I know you found the book. If you're going to put someone on speakerphone, do it when you know I'm not around."

Dean opens his mouth but can't seem to form any words. He's so scared you're going to go after his kids now. You love having this power over them. You have to give them a reason to believe you're good now, that you want to change otherwise you won't get very far.

"Don't worry, I've done a lot of soul searching." You laugh at your joke. "Life without the Mark wouldn't be so bad."

"What?" Sam asks.

"I want my old life back."

"You do?" Dean asks when he's found his voice.

"Look, I'm tired of you two hunting me, beating me down, and all over my ass. The sooner I get the Mark off me, the sooner I can find my soul. I'll be back to normal. You know, all gushy and full of emotions." Sam and Dean look at each other but they're still not sure if it's a good idea to bring you along. "If you don't take me with you, I'll just follow you anyway."

"Fine. Get in the car."

"Gladly."

You turn and leave the library. Step one is done. Now all you have to do is play the part like a good little girl. Sam and Dean look at each other once you're gone.

"Shit, she knows we're still looking for it," Dean panics. "Is this another one of her tricks?"

"We'd be idiots if we think it's not. Look, if she's with us, she's not with your kids. We just keep her busy until we figure out what game she's playing."

"I hate this," Dean sighs.

"I know. Me too."

"Come on, Charlie needs us."

Sam and Dean pack what they need including a metal box that is lead-lined and warded. If they are going to be messing around with the Book of the Damned, they'll need something to protect it with. Plus, Sam thinks it'll be enough to get it off the radar. Once you're on the road, you're spread out in the backseat with your legs stretched over the entire bench while Sam and Dean are in the front. They're scared to talk about anything with you in the car which gives you joy.

They make it so easy.

"So, are you really on board with the cure for the Mark?" Dean asks wearily.

"What, you don't want your wife back?"

"Yeah, but--"

"Then take me to that book," you cut him off.

You put in your headphones to make it look like you're not listening to them to give them a false sense of security. Just like you suspected, they immediately start yapping when they think you can't hear them.

"How are you doing?" Sam asks.

"Actually good. You heard Charlie. We got a shot at fixing this thing. We can get Y/N back."

"Yeah, if by 'shot' you mean a spell in a book that we can't read that's currently being tracked--"

"We're due for a win, okay? Overdue. I'll tell you another thing, if this actually does work, we're gonna take some time off. "

"What, like a vacation?"

"Yeah, and I'm not talking just like a weekend in Vegas or sitting in some shit motel watching pay-per-porn. No, I'm talking about a beach. Drinking Mai Tais, going for a swim, and mingling with the local wildlife. When was the last time either one of us was on a beach?"

"Never."

"Think about the sand between our toes, Sammy. Sand between our toes."

You open your music app and play one of your songs. They have hope which is what you want them to have before you burn it up and take it away. By the time you get to Charlie, it's already the next day. She is sleeping at one of the tables. Poor thing has been up all night reading notes. You look around the place and feel the book here. It's calling out to you. It wants you to have it.

You're going to get it and then destroy it so no one can use it ever again. You know, after you learn all of its secrets.

"Charlie?" Dean asks and puts a hand on her shoulder. She gasps awake and bolts up with a sticky note on her face. "Hey, it's just us."

She barely registers that you're there. She winces when she stands up. Right. She was shot.

"Were you followed?"

"No."

"How are you feeling?"

"I may have just passed out, but better." She sees you by the door and trails off fearfully. "What is she doing here?"

Dean turns to you, ignoring Charlie.

"You're on our side? Prove it. Heal her."

In order to keep up this facade, you have to do what they say. You push off the wall and walk over to Charlie. She backs up slightly for fear of what you might to do her.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I've turned over a new leaf."

You touch her shoulder and allow your magic to sink into her skin. Seconds later, her wound is healed. She grins and moves to get feeling back into her body.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Please, don't.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine.

Word Count: 1764

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff. Insinuations of Intimacy.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 36

It was night when she returned to the bunker. Her family was still in the library, although they were eating dinner. She just watched them momentarily, as none of them had seen her yet.

She also didn’t realize how long she’d been gone, as time flows differently in Heaven just as it does in Hell. Maria watched Dean pour himself a drink, but the bottle was mostly empty.

“She’s fine, Dean. I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Bobby sighed.

“She’s been gone almost all day, Bobby. What if something happened? It’s not like we can just go check on her or anything,” Dean rambled.

Sam sighed and looked in the direction Bobby was in when he saw Maria standing in the war room. His expression went from worried to relieved. Seeing her standing there, he quickly sat up. That caused everyone else’s gaze to shift to the war room. Dean didn’t say a word; he just got up and quickly closed the distance between them.

She wrapped him up in her arms just as he did her with his. He felt all his worry and fear wash away with her in his arms, “I’ve been so worried about you,” he whispered, feeling a few tears threatening to fall.

“I made you a promise,” she whispered through a sigh, “I’ll always find my way home to you.”

Dean squeezed her a little tighter, feeling his racing heart beginning to calm as he breathed in her scent. Maria took a deep breath, relaxing further in his arms, when she caught the strong odor of whiskey and scrunched up her nose.

“How much have you had to drink?” she asked, pulling away a little so she could look into his eyes.

He blushed, then chuckled, “A bit.”

Maria tilted her head a bit, giving him that “I don’t believe you look,” which only made him laugh. Then, before she could actually argue with him, he leaned down and kissed her. It was one of those kisses that time stands still for.

John deliberately cleared his throat, trying to get the two to chill on the PDA at least a little. Dean and Maria laughed before they joined the others in the library, sitting beside each other.

“Alright, sis, spill. How’d it go?” Sam asked eagerly, leaning forward to lean on the library table.

“Where’s Mari and Cas?” Bobby asked, slightly confused.

A beer appeared on the table in front of Maria, to which she took a sip before looking at her family, “Mari and Cas need to stay in Heaven for now. They’re going to help the other angels find their humanity.” She paused to take another sip of her beer.

“So, what happened with Chuck?” John asked.

“Oh, he’s living on Earth right now, learning what it means to be human,” she answered, scoffing in amusement at the situation.

“Wait? What?” Sam asked, puzzled.

Maria chuckled, “He forgot why he created man and what he found precious about them. So, I locked away his powers until he remembers. Plus, within a week, there won’t be a single demon on Earth. They’ll all be in Hell, where they belong,” she explained, sipping her beer.

“What about any Crossroads deals that have already been made?” John asked, knowing how those worked.

She sighed, “When they come due, the hellhounds will come for those souls. However, with the reform program, those souls will have a chance to be able to redeem themselves and get to Heaven.”

It wasn’t what they wanted to hear, but it was better than nothing, “They may double their efforts for those. At least until they can’t come back up here,” Mary suggested, “We could see if there are any signs of demon activity. Maybe foil their plans.”

With what Maria had done in Hell and then also in Heaven, the peace of the beginning was now appearing in random locations worldwide, not just radiating from where she was. She could also feel where there were monsters still causing trouble in the world.

Maria looked down at her beer, rubbing her thumb over the label as she thought about what to say that would make sense to any of them. It only half made sense to her at the moment. She didn’t even realize all eyes were on her.

“Maria?” Dean asked, setting his hand on her back between her shoulder blades.

She looked over at him and sighed, “This isn’t gonna make much sense, but…” she trailed off and looked back down at her beer. “It’s hard to explain. What if we just, well, moved on? Let hunting go?”

“What happened to saving people?” Dean argued.

There were all those emotions again, causing her to take a shaky breath, but she was unable to look at him, “It’s not that I don’t want to save people, Dean. Some people need to experience things in order to learn important lessons,” she tried to explain.

“I can’t sit here and do nothing,” Dean told her, getting frustrated.

After a moment, a piece of paper appeared on the table in front of him, “Fine,” she sighed, “That paper has the locations of the demons making Crossroads deals that are in the states. If you’re still insistent that you do something.” He did take note that she didn’t look up at him.

Dean looked down at the paper. There were over a dozen different locations, “Sweetheart, I just can’t sit here,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

“I wish you wouldn’t do this,” she mumbled, then finished her beer.

John, Bobby, and Mary understood what Maria had been talking about it. It was something they could understand, mainly because they had children. Part of growing up meant understanding that your children had to experience hard things in order to learn the lessons involved. They couldn’t save them from the pain of things; they could only advise them on how to proceed.

“Dean, maybe we should listen to her,” Mary suggested, softly, pleading him with her eyes.

“Mom, seriously?” Dean questioned as he looked at her, “What the hell?!”

“Don’t snap at your mother, boy,” John told him sternly, “Just listen, hear her out.”

Dean’s frustration at the entire situation was evident to everyone. That was when Mary had an idea. She got up and went over so she was standing between Maria and her son.

“Maria, can you share my understanding with him?” she asked as she set her hand on Maria’s shoulder.

Maria looked up at her, contemplating her request, “I think so,” she replied, unsure as it was something she’d never attempted before.

She shifted in her seat to face Dean, then placed her left hand over Mary’s hand that was still on her shoulder. Maria put her right hand on Dean’s chest, took a deep breath, then closed her eyes. She focused on sharing what Mary had asked, letting her powers do what was needed.

Dean’s eyes widened as that soft yet vibrant purple glow radiated under her hand, and memories of his mother’s played out in his mind. He saw, when he was three, trying to stand on a toddle push toy that was supposed to be ridden. His mother repeatedly took him off of it, explaining he was supposed to sit on it and ride it. Then, after the dozenth time, she sighed and stepped back, letting her son figure it out on his own. The three-year-old Dean did manage to stand on the seat, then fell off of it, hurting himself and crying. Mary was there, holding him close and comforting him. However, he didn’t try that again after learning that he could get hurt.

Mary looked down at her son as the memory played out and watched a couple of tears fall from his eyes, and she smiled softly at him. Then, Maria opened her eyes and set her hands on her lap. She wasn’t sure what to say, having seen something so intimately personal like that. Mary placed one of those motherly kisses on the top of Dean’s head before she went over and sat next to John, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Dean just sat there for a few moments, having an internal battle. He wanted to go save those people, but he realized that he couldn’t save them from themselves. Maria tilted her head a bit as she watched him with curiosity, almost able to see the understanding coming into his expression.

He lowered his head, sighing, “I won’t go,” he said quietly.

Dean understood what they’d both tried to not only explain to him but also show him. He wondered how he would be able to sit back and do nothing, knowing he could do something. He also wondered if that was what it was like to be a parent, having to let your kids make mistakes so they could learn on their own. Dean had been saving people from monsters for so long that he wasn’t sure how he was going to just sit back and do nothing. When he felt Maria’s hand on his cheek, he looked into her eyes, conflicted, even when he saw her soft smile and love in them.

“Thank you. I know how hard this is for you,” Maria told him, just as soft as her eyes. The paper that was on the table disappeared.

He sighed, “Just, help me focus on something else till this is over,” he asked her, a pleading look in his eyes.

Maria gently rubbed her thumb against his cheek, then leaned up and kissed him softly, “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” she smiled, then got an idea, “Tell you what, you can pick all the activities for the whole week.”

Whether she meant to or not, that had definitely gotten his attention and his mind on an entirely different topic. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. It was that devilishly charming, flirtatious smirk of his that made his eyes light up.

“All the activities?” he asked suggestively.

She playfully smacked his shoulder, blushing deeply. 

“You know, there are other people in the room,” Bobby teased them, chuckling, which only made her blush deeper.

Dean brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear, “Now that is a color I love seeing on you.”

“Not helping,” she told him, a bit flustered.

Laughter erupted in the room, and the mood finally lightened. It was going to be a long week, but somehow, Maria knew she was going to enjoy helping keep Dean’s mind off the things he needed to leave alone.

----------------------------------------- Epilogue

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[woneuntonzz]

𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 || p.sh x reader

A story inspired by Pacific Rim

ꜱʏᴘɴᴏꜱɪꜱ: Park Seonghwa was one of the pilots of Dawn Facility's very first attempt at creating a monster killing machine, but with the lost of his co-pilot, he leaves the facility, grieving for thirteen years —after those thirteen years, he decides it's finally time to be the hero he promised his co-pilot he'll be. He's gonna save the world, but not without finding himself a new co-pilot. He finds her right away, and their connection flourished as quick as time.

contains: angst, fluff, cursing, death, grieving, comfort, mentions of blood, combat, extraterrestrials, expanded explanations (got carried away), giant man-powered robots, monsters

word count: 11.8k

[ an: should i make a series out of this? ]

⛦ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ!

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭 .ᐟ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

20:10:21:56… 57… 58 —the clock ran to count the days till the end of the world. An apocalypse —predicted by art. What people thought could only exist in games and movies, or and books and illustrations, traveled along the gateways of the universe, rising from the Pacific Ocean to wreak havoc on Earth. Named terato, hell in the form of merciless, blood hungry beasts. 

During the early days of the apocalypse, fighting off these monsters came easy, like fighting fire —water was right on the surface and all that needed to be done was right below your feet. Then suddenly it wasn’t. They grew smarter, stronger, and even bigger, swatting all military effort causing all governments to shut down. 

On New Earth, there are no governments. Project: Dawn, what was once disapproved by hypocrites of high power, was initiated. Killing machines about the size of a city protected what was left of Earth. Each of them were engineered to withstand the strength, the claws, the teeth, and the newfound intelligence of these monsters. The people called them Goliaths. Some believed, but some resent, seeing Dawn as a hindrance to Earth’s progression to its next phase —they believed, Earth was bound to end, and God made it that way. But they could never resist the orders of Dawn, because like the government, they were all hypocrites who stand strong behind the walls but are the most vulnerable when faced with the instance of death. Nobody wanted to die, even if it was harder to stay alive than to get crushed or eaten. 

Dawn’s purpose is solidified after the first few battles, Goliaths with crushed arms, decapitated heads, and wires and bolts hanging out of holes clawed by the beasts. The machinery and computers were not enough, and so the proposal for the Pilot Project was passed on to Dawn’s founder. It was approved, under immediate orders. Instead of relying on computers, the revamped Goliath would be operated by the human mind, with a pilot. A recruit was commenced, gathering worthy souls fit for combat. The very first Goliath under the Pilot Project —Helios— was operated by one pilot. The test drive put the test pilot in critical vegetative state. It corrupted his brain. They would consider it a failure until one man. He used to operate in the military. His mind was crushed by his trauma in the war of his past, and the dawn of the apocalypse, but his heart was able to battle the excruciating anguish. That’s what a Goliath does. It connects to the mind of its pilot, grasping every bit of the pilot’s mind, their memories, their life. 

After Helios, there was Lux. The two were the biggest of all Goliaths, and they were the strongest too. The pilots of both would soon suffer brain cancer, killing them both in the long run. The single-pilot system proved to be fatal, even with the strongest soul. The constant connection of the Goliaths to the brain of its pilots turned out to be a toxic relationship. One brain on one Goliath can destroy the mind. And so, more pilots were recruited. And finally, the first double-pilot Goliath was created. Atlas was not as big as Helios, or Lux, but it was a destroyer, equipped with hightech, built-in weaponry. The third generation Goliaths, required younger pilots that are guaranteed to fight at least a century's worth of teratos, so time could be bought for Dawn to find the source.

Atlas’ pilots were the best and the strongest —physically and mentally— of all recruits at the evaluation. Choi San and Park Seonghwa. They were not recruited solely for being dependable in combat, they’re bond was strong as they were hailed from the place, though they wouldn’t meet until Dawn. They shared memories of the same place, and were especially empathetic towards each other. Atlas was the pinnacle of dawn, the first victory. Atlas was the first to kill a terato. Its corpse was brought into Dawn’s laboratories —each laboratory studying all the different segments of the beast. There was the head, the upper half of the body, and then lower half. Each team was divided into two, external studies, and internal. It was no puzzle to figure out that every beast that rose from the pacific were different from one another. There were mammal-like beasts, amphibians, and arachnids. Some even flew. All they had in common were scales. They were classified as a material. It was tough, but not tough enough. But the information was not enough. The beasts kept coming, and nobody knew from where. 

Atlas’ next mission was to paralyze and deliver a beast to Dawn’s facilities. It was never guaranteed to work, but it was an experiment. A very risky experiment. A new beast, taking a form similar to that of a cobra, was their new target. They were undoubtedly successful with their mission. The beast was paralyzed, and transported to Dawn. Dawn’s Goliath operators were having a celebration. And after a few drunk sips, a dazed glance to the ceiling would contort to a face that feared the beast that crawled throughout the Dawn’s premises. The poison did not last long. The night Dawn was almost destroyed, was the night where they realized. They are only growing stronger and they will consume Earth as they please. 

But it was also the night of Choi San’s death. It was the night Seonghwa left Goliath behind. After five years of serving Dawn, he was out of commission. He stayed behind the wall, with the rest of civilization during the revival of Dawn. He watched news coverage of its successful restoration, after two years. He was offered time and time again to return. Dawn ran out of pilots after that night. He rejected all of them, and for years, he worked like every citizen, gathering scraps, cleaning the bottom of the wall, and aiding rescues from outside the wall. He felt like his purpose in this world left him, like San. His family was killed long before Dawn. San was the closest he had to family. They were brothers at heart. It pains him that San had to sacrifice his own life to save the rest of Dawn’s people. Seonghwa could remember saying “Let’s save the world, Lieutenant Choi.” every time before every mission, but Lieutenant Choi died before they could even figure out how to defeat those creatures for good. To Seonghwa, losing Choi San was losing everything he had, and now he had nothing to lose. 

That’s right, I have nothing to lose. —the thought crossed his mind just as a Dawn aircraft landed inside the wall. Seonghwa knew what they came for. Soon he found himself in a secluded area with Dawn’s Chief Commander. 

“It’s been a while” the chief’s voice was authoritative —as always— yet somehow calm. 

“It’s been thirteen years, sir.” Seonghwa faced the chief with utmost respect, a straight back, and his compliance. 

“Park, you know what I’m here for.”

“And I know what awaits me behind those walls, sir.”

“What changed Park? Are the sorrows of the isolated civilization finally catching up to you?” 

Seonghwa could no longer keep his head up, “Sir, for what it’s worth, I really have nothing to lose anymore. I would rather die in battle than of old age isolated from the reality of our world, Sir.”

An amused scoff sounded from the chief’s lips, and he’d subtly nod before responding to him. “It would be beautiful to see them out of this box and live their dreams —the world, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa’s eyes had gone back to meet the chief’s, his tone sounding of relief. 

“Well then, better get packed. We’ll be out of these walls within the next thirty minutes.”

“Yes sir!”

There was not much to pack, but he made sure to leave the grief in the walls. He knew that carrying them into a Goliath would affect his co-pilot. He wouldn’t want his suffering to be the weakness of the Goliath. He wouldn’t want to fail again. 

On the flight to Dawn, Seonghwa watched the walls disappear as they went over them. It was like a breath of fresh air, even if it meant there were monsters that roamed the withered surface of the planet. He saw broken buildings, decaying over time, demolished houses, smashed roads, shoreless seas —it was never this bad before he had left Dawn. He figured, this must be the reason why they’re reinforcing walls, and why the clock was set. The world was ending in nine years, fourteen days, five hours, and forty minutes, according to the clock. Seonghwa felt like giving his soul away right at that moment just for the world to flourish with bright colors again. 

“Take a look at that, that terato was venomous, we’re working on transporting it back to the labs. It was taken down by Pluto.” 

“And I assume Pluto is a new arrival Goliath, Sir?” 

“Pluto was stationed in the frontlines six years ago, Park.”

Seonghwa seemed to have forgotten that Dawn’s initiative was to expand, upgrade, and create more to end the war and terminate whoever or whatever started it. 

Seonghwa exhales harshly at the sight of Dawn’s new base. Unlike then, the surface was miniscule, and he knew the rest of it would be underground, guarded with the same metals they used for the Goliaths. Once they’ve landed, Seonghwa was greeted with the sight of numerous gamma ray machines and a shield that was shut off with the lift of a single finger, the chief’s. The shield was back on as soon as they crossed the line that separated the base from the outside, then a woman came to approach the chief. 

“Sir, Doctor Choi had called for your attention at the upper quarter laboratory. She says it’s urgent.” the woman’s voice was stern, and her sharp eyes pierced Seonghwa’s own pair, a cruel attempt to pin him down. 

“Irene, this is Park Seonghwa. He was one of the first pilots of third gen Goliaths —Atlas.” 

Hearing the Goliath’s name, the woman’s eyes widened a tad, breathing in the busy air that flowed throughout Dawn. 

“Park, this is Irene. My daughter, and my secretary.” 

Seonghwa bowed at her, the same way he would with the chief. She would return it to him, the glare on her face completely diminished. 

“Come, Park. I’ll introduce you to the u-q.” 

The chief laid a hand on Seonghwa’s back as he led him down to the laboratory along with the secretary. The elevator was some other kind of technology for within a second, they were already twenty feet underground. He felt no movement at all, as if they teleported. 

When the doors drew open, they were greeted with an empty-looking space, with papers scattered all over tabletops and plastered on cork boards and other areas of the wall. It had a variety of content. Blueprints, x-rays, calculations, news articles, photos, documents —all containing a fragment of teratos. Seonghwa looked over to one of the tables as they ventured in. The words source and terannia stuck to him, reading it off as it was highlighted with red. Looking straight ahead, they stopped at a room being lit by the holographic screens and controls on the air, and a woman operating them. She sat there, and she appeared to be observing a phenomenon of sorts. It was a whirlpool, but painted with purple and red tones rather than the ocean’s colors.

The chief clears his throat then calls, “Doctor Choi.”

The woman stands up at an instant, bowing at a perfect ninety degrees. 

“Chief.” she firmly responds, keeping her head down. 

Once bringing herself up, her gaze fell on Seonghwa, eyes being lured by the foreign presence. 

“Doctor Choi, this is—”

“Park Seonghwa.” she stared at him as she continuously nodded at a slow pace. “My brother’s co-pilot at Atlas.” 

Her words struck Seonghwa’s heart, and he grips on the strap of his bag, tight. 

“Park, this is Choi Y/n. I was thinking you might know her.”

Seonghwa was not able to move a single nerve, eyes still locked with the woman in front of him. “Yes, sir. But only by name.”

The chief averted his eyes from Seonghwa and brought them back to Y/n to ask her, “What am I here for Choi?”

“Oh, that—” with that, she breaks the contact she had with the man who stood next to the chief, moving back to controlling the holograms. She continued to speak as she configured the controls. “So for the past year, we’ve been scanning the pacific ocean for any signs, abnormalities with magnetic fields, current activity, or anything at all that’ll lead to us finding the source.” —after a few more swipes of her hand, an image of what looked like the opening of the whirlpool she was observing earlier was on display— “This, sir, is what I'd like to call, Terannia.” —she moved the image to the side with a swipe, and lifted a model with another— “It’s the terato gateway, and I believe it only opens when a terato is released. Now, sir, remember the terato heart I so desperately begged for?”

“Yes, Choi, I do.”

“Well sir, I’ve actually retrieved a live brain, so I interconnected those two together with the same technology we use for Goliaths and charged it at maximum at the psychreader, and it gave me ancient text —like those once people thought were from aliens, I mean they probably were—”

“Choi.”

“Apologies sir, anyways, I decoded it for three months, and found out that they’re engineering these monsters, designing their genes to be stronger, for their scales to be tougher, for them to develop their skills in combat. Each of those teratos serve as surveillance cameras for whatever creatures there are trying to destroy Earth.”

“So that means they’ve been studying the way Dawn operates?” Seonghwa’s sudden question caused a stagnation in Y/n’s breathing. 

“Y-yes.”

“Is there a way for us to infiltrate their quarters?” this time the chief asked. 

Y/n sighs, her tongue prodding in between her fang tooth and another. “I don’t know that yet, sir.”

“Very well then, call me back when you’ve figured it out.”

“And also sir, I found out that they plan to create a portal that’ll stay open, so, you know, they could destroy the world.” 

Words were exchanged so casually, yet none of them were even remotely close to calm. The fate of the world is in Dawn’s grasp, and they hoped, no matter how heavy it weighed, they could carry it out and stop the forces that sought to dominate this planet. 

Seonghwa’s eyes were on her the entire time, in awe with her knowledge, up until leaving, where they exchanged a gaze of wonder. They wondered about each other. They were both linked to the same person they valued the most in their life when he was still living. And Seonghwa wondered if she’ll be the one to fill the void San had left in his heart. 

Moving away from the laboratories, Seonghwa was brought into the Goliath stations. His whole world stopped seeing those metal giants on display, four of them. His life before the walls stormed his mind. All the battles he shared with his co-pilot, and Atlas. The teratos they fought. The places where their battles occured. Then that tragic midnight. And then the last conversation he had with his co-pilot —his mind rewinds an image of San telling him, “If I die, would you take care of my sister if she’s found?” —Yes, was Seonghwa’s immediate answer. And it was a promise. 

Seonghwa was introduced to an array of new operators that worked closely with the Goliaths. Then he was introduced to the fresh set of Goliaths at the frontlines, on the ready to be launched out of the base at the threat of danger. There was Judas, Dethra, Sayan, and,

“Reaper. That’s your Goliath, Park.” 

Reaper was bigger than Judas, Dethra, and Sayan. Reaper was black all over, and its head where the pilots are to be situated had a faceplate made out of a crystal Seonghwa had never seen before. It shone yellow, but changed to ivory at a different angle. 

“Now, Park, we’ll set you up for a test drive in three days. We’ll have you conduct an evaluation with our cadets, and there you can choose your co-pilot.”

Another co-pilot —Seonghwa said to himself, being brought back to the day he met San. It was a perfect match, two perfect puzzle pieces that complete each other. Seonghwa felt the connection as he sparred with San. Their respect for each other was equal as one, and they tied at that spar. San had the strength, the braun, and Seonghwa had a technique on par with the greatest of the great fighters that ever walked this Earth. 

“Lieutenant Park, Irene will show you to your room. Make yourself at home.” with that, Irene walked forward, 

“Yes, sir.” after Seonghwa bowed, he exchanged a nod with Irene, following her through the busy crowds of workers. 

Arriving at the front door of his room, he bows at Irene for the last time that day as she hands him a keycard. “That keycard is for emergencies only. We use gene scanning for room security.” 

“Gene sca…” Irene walks off, not giving him another second. “Gene scanning? how does that even work?” he mumbled to himself. 

Then suddenly, the room right in front of him opened its door, and peeking out was Choi Y/n who answered his question, “Your gene blueprint is saved in the system once you’ve walked through the gates of Dawn. But it would take a whole day for me to explain everything, so—”

“Y/n —is it okay if I called you that?” 

Y/n suppressed a laugh, “Yeah, it’s my name, Lieutenant Park.”

“Just wanted to be sure, Doctor.” Seonghwa then opened the door, walking in, but not without maintaining eye contact with the other who was still peeking from her door.

As he settled in for the night, he can’t help but wonder how she ended up working for Dawn. San had told him that she had a passion for science, but he never expected her to be a professional in the field —or to lead the whole laboratory itself. She’s the lead proponent of the team, proposing orders for observatory missions to debunk the whole anomaly that is the teratos and its kind as a whole. Nobody really knew what they sought from Earth, but she led everyone on a quest to figure out just why, and what is creating these monsters. 

“I’ll look out for her. I promise.”

The next day was like any other for everyone else, and for Seonghwa, it was a whole new process of adapting. Dawn wasn’t foreign to him, but after thirteen years behind those walls, the unfamiliar faces, the optimized technology, it was almost overwhelming. He hung around the training facility, inspecting the cadets. They were skilled, they had the fighting spirit, but no one in particular really stood out to him. Though, he could see his young self in them, determined to make it to the frontlines. Seonghwa was only twenty years of age when he was commissioned, and San was nineteen, and he was twenty-three when he passed. Seonghwa had just turned twenty-five before that night. And now, here he is thirteen years later, watching young fighters spar, what he used to be before the frontlines. 

“They seem tough, don’t they?” Seonghwa’s posture had become straight and steady, bowing to the deputy chief who had appeared beside him. “Some of them are reckless, driven by pure vengeance.”

“That’s never a good thing, sir.” 

“Indeed. Vengeance —wrath can turn a man into a monster, but a mindless one. What’s the use of all the strength if you’re as easy as a mouse to trap?”

Seonghwa, unsure of what to say, nods his head very subtly, making the other man chuckle. 

“You, Lieutenant Park, have the brains to win any fight. You’re a real fighter, a survivor, a hero. Thirteen years ago was not the pilots’ fault, you know that. It was the defective poison.”

The deputy chief was telling the truth. The problem was never the pilots. As a matter of fact, it was never anyone’s fault. They knew the teratos evolve each time one comes out of the pacific, more powerful than the rest defeated. Seonghwa always thought fairly, and he believed the brains behind that poison were simply not given much to work with but old terato corpses. 

“You should drop the formalities with me, Seonghwa, after all, you’ve lived longer than me, and you have more experience in the frontlines.”

“But, sir, you’re my commander.”

“It’s Yunho from now on. You have my utmost respect, Seonghwa.”

The two would then exchange a bow, then a firm handshake. Together, they watched over the training, pointing out any excellent plays, foul blows, flaws. It even got to a point where the deputy chief would tell his story, and why he was in Dawn. It was mostly because of his father who was closely tied to Dawn’s founder, and was the pilot of Lux. Yunho had a dream of being like his father, he wanted to pilot a Goliath. He was so fascinated by them, until his fascination turned into a passion. He became a lead proponent at the frontlines as a technician who structured the weaponry of Goliaths —that was during the time Seonghwa had gone into the walls. Yunho had only been promoted recently as deputy as he was the next in the line. When his father caught cancer, he was promoted as deputy too. 

After a long conversion, the two would notice that the grunts, thuds, and heavy footsteps had stopped. There was no one but the two of them left in that room. Yunho decided that it was time for the trainees to be introduced to Seonghwa, and maybe, they might see him as a source of inspiration, and drive them to work harder to get chosen as his co-pilot. Yunho took him to the barracks, where all the young trainees are. It was quite the walk, but on the way, they’d stumble upon Y/n who appeared inside the elevator from a higher level. They stepped in, it seemed as though the woman never noticed. 

That was until she uttered, “Where are you two headed?”

Yunho answers her in the same manner, “The barracks. You?”

“The barracks.”

“Is there anything you need from them or?...”

“Not really. I’m going because you’re going.”

They would continue to quietly laugh at each other. It was all so casual that it took Seonghwa by surprise. 

“I’m guessing you’ve met Choi.” Yunho brings his head to his right —to Seonghwa. 

“Yes. I have.” Seonghwa tested the waters by only subtly dropping the formalities. 

“We’re really close friends. We were brought into Dawn at the same time. We worked really closely together back then.” Yunho says. 

Seonghwa looked at Y/n’s reflection through the walls of the elevator, if only the reflection wasn't all blurry and distorted, he could see that she was looking at him too. They shared an inclination, subconsciously acting with the means of staying close to each other. They both wanted to hear from each other. Mostly they were curious of who San was in each other’s lives, and partly they both felt at peace in each other’s presence, almost feeling obligated to be together, to protect one another in some way —like San had left them for each other. 

Arriving at the barracks, the young men and women would form two parallel lines, facing each other. 

“Cadets, with me here is Lieutenant Park. He’s one of the first pilots of Atlas, now if you know your world history, you would’ve figured out by now that—” Yunho firmly places two hands on Seonghwa’s shoulders, “This guy is a big deal.”

Seonghwa’s eyes would dilated slightly, and he’d hear a quiet giggle to his left, Doctor Choi, just watching them. 

Yunho continued his disclosure. “And he is currently on a search for a co-pilot. Try-outs are tomorrow kids, and remember, this is a chance for you to finally get out there and contribute to the frontlines, keep the planet safe, or maybe even save the world.” his eyes went over each and every cadet, seeing how their eyes lit up at the opportunity, he wore a subtle smirk, “Till then, have a good night’s sleep and prepare for tomorrow. We��ll leave you now.”

They bow in chorus as the three leave the room. As they walked through the hall, Seonghwa felt a smaller figure press onto his side a bit.

“Jung Yunho loves to pretend to be all tough and intimidating. It gives him an ego boost, but he’s a good guy.” he looked over beside him and saw Y/n’s little grin. And when he looked straight ahead, Yunho had already gone on his own, leaving the two. “So, Lieutenant, are you gonna be busy too?”

They finally face each other, Seonghwa’s head tilted down slightly to meet her eyes. 

Then she spoke again, just a little quieter than before. “Or will you join me in my lab?”

Seonghwa couldn’t help the chuckle from escaping his lips, he hums an approving melody, eyes sneaking a glance on her lips. “Yeah? Why'd you want to take me there?”

“Well…” her hand reached for the single strand of his long hair that went astray and rested against his cheek, and she moved it away, her finger softly brushing against his skin. One small touch had evoked urges he’d never even dared to think about  “Your hair, ever thought of giving it a trim? before you save the world and all.” 

They could feel their own breaths as they laughed, faces only a footstep away from touching. As their zeal calms, Seonghwa offers her his hand, she takes it, pulling him into the elevator and down to her laboratory. He walks in, soon joining her as she sits down on her work table. And that is where he saw it —a photograph of the Choi siblings, San, and a young Y/n. Seonghwa could still remember, every time before going into a mission, San would unfold a copy of the same photograph he kept in his pants pockets, and in his battle suit. He remembers San telling him “I’ll save the world for my sister, I do hope they’re in the walls, so we can still be together. Soon.” when San’s death was still a fresh memory, thinking about that very moment made him cry. San only had one wish in this world —besides saving it— and it was for her sister to work within the fields of science, achieve her dreams, and be happy. Seonghwa distinctly remembers San’s protectiveness, for even if his sister wasn’t around, he’d talk about beating a boy up for making her sister cry. And now that not-so-little girl was with Seonghwa. 

“Seonghwa?” he was awakened from his thoughts hearing Y/n’s mellow voice. 

“Y/n.”

“My brother, I miss him all the time too. I know you do.” her hands, with nothing else to meddle with, would reach for the photographs, her fingers running over the image of her late brother.

“He always talked about you, you know.” he moves his lonely hand close to hers, their backs touching. “If only he could see the wonderful woman you’ve grown to be.” 

Soon their hands found home in each other, feeling at ease once they felt the warmth.

“What’d he tell you?” her voice turned small.

“Everything. How you loved your family cat more than him, your dream of being a scientist, your favorite food, he wouldn’t stop talking about you.” his thumb drew circles on her skin. “And he really wanted to see you.”

Y/n looked at their entwined hands, and she’d see a huge scar that went from the upper half of the back of his hand, to the end of his forearm. “I was rescued, but, by a subsidiary of Dawn. I was held in that facility, and raised by a Theoretical Physicist. Traveling from there to Dawn’s h-q was tough back then, so,” she traced the scar with a gentle finger, “I never got to see my brother for the last time.” 

Seonghwa could see the tears swelling in her eyes, the reflection of the hologram screens making her eyes shine blue. He brought her hand back in his, bringing himself closer to her until their knees touched. He leans in, bringing his face close to hers. He looks right into her soul, watching a teardrop pop and escape from the corner of her eye. He catches it with his thumb, with the same hand he cupped one side of her face as the other held her hand. He traced every line on her face with his eyes, until he reached her lips. “You have such pretty eyes. So lovely.” 

Her giggles were like music to his ears. “My eyes are up here, Lieutenant.”

“I know. I always see them.”

That night, they headed back to their rooms, but would be distant from each other. As if they weren’t all up in each other, losing track of time. The others that were settled next to their rooms could still hear the clanking of the metal as they opened and closed their doors. Even if it was a little shorter, their sleep was a lot more pleasant than everyone else’s. 

Tomorrow was a big day for the cadets. They woke up hours before the sun shone, preparing for the evaluation process. Seonghwa himself will spar with each trainee, so he made sure to prepare himself as well, just enough so he could kindle his adrenaline. Making his way into the training facility, everyone went silent, his presence adding to the weight of the atmosphere. With a few more ticks of the clock, the cadets were all lined up to spar with Seonghwa who stood tall amid the practice ring.

The first cadet who approached, carried himself with a small stature. But to everyone’s surprise, the boy turns himself, swiftly moving down to the floor, the back of his feet kicking Seonghwa off the floor. Unfortunately for that trainee, Seonghwa reacts quickly, flipping himself backwards, his hands touching the cold, chalked floor. He lands on both feet, keeping his eyes on his opponent who strikes him as soon as he lands. He catches the boy’s fist, pulling it past his head, catching the boy’s body with knee. And with that, he wins the first spar, like he’s playing a video game. And this game progressed with every level, but it would only get tiring for Seonghwa, in lieu of finding it difficult. He felt no connection with any of them, even if the last one caught him off guard and almost beat him for that reason, it has seemed as though that trainee resented him for winning that spar. The session was concluded with no success. The chief watched the entire session, Yunho was there too, and Y/n. They knew what the problem was. Seonghwa, for a while, felt like he was being difficult, but he was assured that finding his other half to pilot Reaper was no easy task. A strong connection is crucial for a Goliath to be fully functional and face no difficulties. Seonghwa failed to to feel that connection with any of those he sparred with —the first time he sparred with his old co-pilot, no matter how long they went on to spar, no one would win and they would just laugh about it, and they could read each other like books. 

Seonghwa would stay in that room, and he just sat on the half-steps, leaning back and propping himself up with his elbows touching a higher level of the floor. He stares on the practice ring floor, thinking deeply about what he’ll do to find a partner before an emergency strikes —he didn’t have to worry about the test drive, all they had to ensure was that Seonghwa was still in condition to pilot a Goliath. For even if he could defeat a hundred men in a spar, he might collapse once he’s had his brain interconnected with the Goliath’s system. He sighs heavily, but then would inhale sharply when he felt a firm object poking on the small of his back. He looked up behind him, and saw Y/n holding a sparring stick. 

“Why are you still here Doctor?” he asked calmly.

He watches her figure move and sits next to him, then she holds a stick producing a sound that echoed throughout the room as she set it down in between them. 

“You okay?” 

Seonghwa had no trouble meeting her eyes again, and he’d pick up the stick, toying with it a little before he replied, “Yunho was right. They could be violent, but lack technique, and control. What's a fighter with all that strength and no brain?” 

Y/n nods, she saw it with her own eyes earlier during the session, how lacking the trainees were when it came to counterattacks. “Well, they’re young, and they grew up with the apocalypse. As children it had been in their minds —to get rid of those heartless monsters. Their trauma from childhood sparks unspeakable rage, unlike us who were already living adulthood when the apocalypse struck.”

“Wasn’t it your highschool graduation?”

“Was?”

“When you got separated from your family.”

“Oh, yeah. I was supposed to take neuroscience. I did end up studying it though, it’s just that, I have no diploma. Kind of surprising that the chief trusted me and hired me, and promoted me as lead proponent. I don’t have credentials to prove my intellect.”

“Which is exactly what makes you so outstanding. You’re amazing, and you’ve figured out what the enemy's plan is. And soon you’d give us direction on how to end this apocalypse.” 

Seonghwa was caught off guard —for the second time that day— as Y/n’s hand grabbed one end of the stick, holding it firmly in place.

“Y/n?”

She maneuvers the stick, spinning as she brings herself up, putting her weight on the stick and forcing it into Seonghwa’s chest horizontally. Just before the stick could touch his chest however, he’d bring both his hands to hold onto the stick to resist the force.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Doctor.” Seonghwa utters with a heavy breath. 

Y/n laughs, “Save the one liners, Lieutenant, it seems that you’re struggling right now.”

Seonghwa pulled his body up, finally finding room to move. He stands up, attempting to kick her feet off the floor, but she jumps over the swipe of his leg. That bought him time to turn around and move behind her, bringing the other end of the stick to her neck from behind and keeping her arms locked. “That’s one to one Doctor.” 

The scientist sighs, jumping off the ground, a foot landing on Seonghwa’s thigh. She swiftly turns herself around to face him, her other leg lifting up in the air backwards as she lounges herself into him, pinning him down, his chest making contact with the floor. Her legs restricted him from moving his own, he could feel her weight on the back of his thighs, and on his upper back being pinned down with the stick that also locked both his hands in place. 

“Lieutenant? you okay down there?”

He chuckled, with much apparent challenge. “Tell me, Doctor, how does one get out of this situation?”

Once he felt her head at close distance to his, he forced his head back, striking her right on her forehead. She winces, and he takes the opportunity to reverse their positions, but the stick would be displaced somewhere in the room, and they’d be facing each other, with Seonghwa on top of the other. He had both her wrists pinned on the ground, but his grasp was loose. They stayed there for a while, diving deep into each other’s gaze. 

“I didn’t know you could fight.” she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face as he whispered to her.

“I never really got trained before Dawn. You know how it is. They train as many people as possible just in case they run out of pilots.” 

“Then, can you be my co-pilot?” Y/n sat up as soon as he started to speak. 

“I don’t think the chief would allow that.” Seonghwa settles himself next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“He will, trust me.”

Trust was something he could give so easily, and he hoped he had given him her trust. He’s only been around for three nights, and the bond was undeniable. They talk and touch like they’ve known each other since they’ve taken their first breath. Seonghwa’s image of her is an oasis. He’s never felt so lost and so alone behind those walls. Finding her is finding his true purpose in life. 

Before all lights were out and the sun fell, Seonghwa took strides to the chief’s office. He started writing out in his mind, everything he should and should not say, and what could save him in case the chief felt like being stubborn. He planned on stopping in front of the door to prepare himself for the chief, but the door opened immediately as soon as he got there. 

“Park. Do I owe you anything?”

“Oh, no, sir.” he clears his throat, stepping in and presenting his whole self to the chief. “I’ve found my co-pilot.”

The chief's brows perked up, “Is that so? I thought none of our trainees stuck well with you.”

“It’s Choi Y/n, sir.”

The chief’s smirk fades as he shakes his head. “Park, Doctor Choi is a key proponent of our research team —she leads a team of her own.”

“Sir—”

“I’d let her pilot if the situation calls for it. We are in no need of any extras, what we need is a co-pilot that’s as competent as you are.”

“Sir, Y/n is not incompetent. She defeated me in a spar. Our spar ran with great rhythm. Sir, getting into this, I never thought I’d ever find my match, there’s no other San in this world. But Y/n? We’ve been a match since I got here.” 

The chief leans back on his chair, then he motions to Irene. She stood up from her desk, stepping towards Seonghwa. “Leave.”

He almost laughed from what he heard. “Are you serious?”

“Park, respect. Never forget.”

“Sir, I respect you and you’re work, but if you wish for me to be the best pilot I could be in combat, give me the partner that I know—”

“Out of my office. Now.”  the chief’s voice filled the room.

It was the most deafening sound Seonghwa has ever heard. He was just thankful Y/n was not around to hear. It was painful, even for him, for the chief to belittle her like that, even if it was indirectly. He left that room with heavy steps. Once he heard the door shut from behind, he kept walking. He wasn’t completely conscious of where his feet were taking him. The next thing he knew, he stood in front of Reaper, his designated Goliath. Reaper was nothing like Atlas —Atlas had the appearance of a God that could move oceans and imprison demons with one sway of an arm— Reaper appeared to be a merciless assassin, dressed with the darkness of night, with eyes that pierce through one’s soul to seize it. 

His thoughts ran with every second that passed, even then, he was still able to feel the presence of the man who had just followed him into the Goliath stations. 

“What’s on your mind Seonghwa? haven’t found your partner yet?” the baritone voiced man asks. 

“I have. But the chief won’t let her.” 

“Oh, they’re a she? I mean, nothing new with that, but I didn’t expect you to be such a good flirt.” 

“Very funny, Mingi.”

The two met when Seonghwa landed at Dawn. Mingi is the pilot of Goliath Judas —his co-pilot is his father. Truthfully, he and his father don’t make very harmonized decisions, but they can work naturally when peril strikes. Mingi is teased around by the other pilots, being referred to as “Lieutenant Daddy Issues”. Well he, of course, hated the nickname. It was a blatant insult to him as a son. It made him feel as if he wasn't doing enough for his father, the reason why they’d always quarrel. He felt as if his father would rather have anyone else as his son than him. 

“So,” Mingi’s hand settles on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

Seonghwa chuckled, his head hanging low as he replied, “Doctor Choi.”

“Oh? Oh, I get it now.” Mingi nodded, very slowly as he took a minute for himself to think. “Did you and San have some sort of pact?”

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed, while still laughing. “Well, not really a pact. I made a promise.”

Mingi just nods along to his words. Almost everyone knew who Seonghwa was, and his history working at Dawn as a pilot. Many found his work admirable, while others questioned why he’d leave —going as far as saying that he could’ve ended up as Dawn’s chief if he stayed. Ranks never mattered to Seonghwa. What’s important to him is playing a role in preserving the planet, hopeful for future generations that’ll lead Earth in the long run. The vision is still a blur, but now that he’s returned, he’s determined. 

“You said the chief didn’t want Y/n to co-pilot?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Mingi’s foot became restless, tapping on the cold concrete floor. “Well, I don’t get that at all. Y/n had piloted a Goliath, I mean yeah, it was an emergency and we were all out of recruits, but Y/n did great out there you know.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened at what he heard. There was very little lighting for such a small room, and his eyes were able to reflect all of them. 

“Y/n co-piloted for Wooyoung twice —Sayan was the Goliath. Then Wooyoung’s current co-pilot got recruited from the walls. Jongho, he used to work construction. The two always play-fights but they’re basically brothers at this point.” Mingi stares at the Goliath Sayan for a while, and the memory of Wooyoung and Jongho’s first mission together playing in his head as he eyed the Goliath, “Anyways, the cadets aren’t ready to pilot. Their oldest has only been here for six months. Six months is a long period of time, but it’s not enough, clearly. If the chief forces you to take one of them, you might blow-up the entire h-q during the test-drive.”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but chortle a bit. 

“Bet that wouldn’t happen with Y/n, now would it?”

“Of course it wouldn’t.”

“That’s the spirit.” Mingi sighs as if he’s the one being burdened by the chief’s undying rigor. “Let’s just pray that he'll have a change of heart.”

“Amen.”

Seonghwa took his time to get back to his room, he still hoped that the chief would consider his request. He was eager to prove to the chief just how incredible he’d be with Y/n. He had no room to care if he’s sounding somewhat pathetic, and certainly none to hope that someone will replace her —no matter how qualified they were. No one can. He’s affirmed to himself, it has to be her. It’s the work of fate, Seonghwa never thought he’d ever meet her, yet there she was. She showed up at a time where he’s willing to give himself away under any circumstances that called for it. Now, with her, he is set to keeping himself alive for as long as the gods would allow, just so he could keep an eye on her —to be with her.

His eyes were glued to the floor, then he’d hear a loud clunk, and a faint voice that called, “Y/n.”. He shot his head up, only to be met with the chief who rushed to the elevator, looking straight ahead without giving him even just a smidge of acknowledgement. Another clunk sounded —the sound of a door being locked— and it came from the room in front of his, Y/n’s. He wanted to knock on her door, to ask her why the chief was there and why she’s applying so much force to closing her door. He’d find himself standing in front of her door, his fist hovering close to her door. Suddenly, the door opens again, just slightly. She peeks out, eyes landing on his own immediately. She goes back in for a second before opening the door a little wider. 

“Y/n.” Seonghwa called for her, gently and quietly. 

“Seonghwa, you really didn’t have to push it. If the chief won’t allow it, we really have no choice.” her tone, her eyes —her whole face reflected despondency. “Trust me, Hwa, I really want to pilot with you. But I just can’t.”

His gaze leaves her figure and lands on the floor. “I’m sorry Y/n.” then another clank hit his ears, it was as loud as earlier, but it stung his heart. 

Y/n stood behind that door, looking at him through the peephole. He stays there for a while, taking a glance up her door, like he knew she was still there watching him. He leaves and walks over to his own room, just right across from hers. He moves himself with so much exhaustion —disappointment. She pushed herself away from the door, allowing her body to fall onto the mattress of her bed. She closed her eyes, but there was no dream that awaited her. She’d be back in that nightmare. Terannia, the end of Dawn, the end of all life and Earth. These nightmares no longer felt like mere nightmares. They felt real, like visions of the future. She was afraid that maybe it’s the future that will loom if she’s chosen to fight for the frontlines. But Seonghwa chose her, and if she were to be true to herself, she’d fight to be his co-pilot because she chooses him too. He had nothing to be sorry for. She felt it too, a connection sparked between the two of them. At first, she would only admit to being interested in him, but after being left alone with him, she’d see the eventual truth. 

She could no longer keep her eyes open, so she’d let her eyelids fall, drifting to sleep and back to those nightmares. 

Seonghwa woke up before everyone else, cleaning himself up before quickly heading to the Goliath stations. There were not many people but mechanics, technicians, and engineers, conducting wellness checks for each Goliath. They were almost done, Seonghwa could tell that they'd been there all night judging from their yawns and sunken eyes. Seonghwa was firstly greeted by Dethra’s pilots, Lieutenant Kang Yeosang and his co-pilot —his older sister— Kang Seulgi. Soon he was urged to have breakfast by Reaper’s senior mechanic; Hongjoong. It wasn’t easy to refuse because a minute later, he was feasting on a plate of stacked pancakes and chicken, and an extra cup of coffee that Jongho didn’t like for being “too sweet”. Soon, Seonghwa was dressed in his battle suit. Its color matched Reaper. All black, with a few hints of silver. 

The other pilots watched as Seonghwa walked to the tall metal structure with a lift to Reaper’s back and to the hatch where he’ll make his entry. He’d receive nothing but encouragement from them, right from day one, so no matter who his co-pilot would be, all he’d have to worry about is to execute the mission without fail. He didn’t know who would follow him into the cockpit. He could only hope it was someone he’s been introduced to before, someone he wouldn’t argue with. As the lift went up he saw the other pilots going up to the control room. Seonghwa took a deep breath of the metal that enclosed the lift. Once he’s reached the entryway, he glanced below him, trying to catch a chance to take a glimpse of his co-pilot. It was no use, of course, as he was about three thousand feet above the ground. Entering a Goliath for the first time in thirteen years brought him back to his very first test-drive with Atlas, with San. They stepped into the lift together, entered Atlas together, excitement and ambition surged through their nerves. But now, Seonghwa boards alone, well, that is until the second pilot pod is occupied. The test drive cannot be conducted without his co-pilot, and he knew someone was coming. Might be temporary, might be permanent, but he knew he had time to find someone he’d truly be compatible with before an actual mission or emergency. For now, he’d just have to settle with whoever the chief had assigned to pilot with him. 

He connects his battle suit to the junction that connects his body to Reaper, securing himself. Reaper was activated, and Seonghwa’s battle suit would emit yellow light all over, streaks all around his body and his face plate finally appearing in the form of a hologram. It formed a thin outline below his chest, the sides of his arms, torso, and legs. But he just couldn’t connect to the neurolink just yet. He needed his co-pilot. Just as he was about to speak to the telecom, he heard the hatch open. 

With a sigh, he watches from the corner of his eye as his co-pilot gets settled in. “We can switch places if you want. I didn’t know which side you’d want to take. The chief didn’t tell me anything about you.”

“I don’t think the chief would need to do that. And don’t worry about sides, I'm ambidextrous —besides this is only a test drive.”

A woman, a voice he’s familiar with, yet sounds so different, almost despotic. He looks over at her. “Doctor Choi?”

“It’s Lieutenant Choi when we’re in Reaper.”

“Lieutenant—”

“Pilots, please get ready and connect to the neurolink.” the chief speaks through the telecom. 

Seonghwa grabs onto the headgear, setting his gaze to his co-pilot. 

“Ready when you are, Park.”

“Let’s do this Choi. Ready.” they lower the gear to their heads at a gradual pace until it snaps into place. 

Once it does, it pricks their brains a little. For a moment, memories of their lives play in each other’s heads, then memories of each other they’ve shared just recently. For mere seconds, Seonghwa would get transported back to a memory, the first test drive with Atlas. Y/n could see it too. Then a vision of thirteen years ago. That one tragic night. Before anything could come into play however, Seonghwa shook himself awake, choking back tears. He saw it all over again and it made him feel as if that incident was a fresh occurrence. He could almost hear San yelling his name, telling him to go and save himself. He could still see San locking himself in the facility with that monster, just to save everyone else. 

“Seonghwa, you can get over this, you’re strong. Please fight it.”

It was painful for Y/n too, because she could see Seonghwa’s episode —she’s brought into it. At that moment, their minds were one and the same and would be the brain of their Goliath, Reaper. Seonghwa was still lost in his memory. Y/n could feel her heart sink, seeing her brother through Seonghwa. Nonetheless, she powers through. Finding herself in Seonghwa’s memory where he stood amidst the chaos in the facility. It was all just a memory, a vision, a hallucination, but she could feel every emotion that came rushing to him as he watched San enclose himself with the beast. Y/n knew she had to be strong for him, he was the witness to the very memory she walked on. She couldn’t even begin to imagine just how painful the actual moment was for him. Hearing the chief’s calling, she took fretful steps towards him, she brought her hands up to his face, holding it and fishing for his tear-drowned eyes. 

“Seonghwa, please get us out of here.” she breaks into a sob, thinking about her brother. “I love you, Hwa.”

Back in the control room, everyone just watched and listened in silence. They could hear everything through the telecoms, and they could see the instability of Seonghwa’s neurofeedback. 

“Did she just say I love you?” “So are they together? Seonghwa had only been here for three days.” —their fellow pilots questioned as they continued to listen in. 

The chief trusts Seonghwa and he finds himself sighing his stresses away when Seonghwa snaps out of his episode. “I’m sorry.” they hear Seonghwa’s voice utter through the telecom, but they knew it wasn’t for any of them in the control room. 

Y/n’s eyes never leave him as he takes a moment to breathe. “No need to be sorry, Hwa. I’ll always be here.”

After a count of seven minutes, the neurolink clears up, indicating that Seonghwa had managed to calm himself down. 

“Both pods are stable. Please check the control panel.”

Seonghwa takes the lead, moving his hands to activate the controls. A hologram displays their vitals. He subtly shakes his head at the large spikes of his pulse and his unstable brain activity just minutes ago. 

“We’re all clear.” Seonghwa spoke. 

The test drive was successful for the most part. If Seonghwa was unable to control himself, he might end up unconsciously activating the weaponry and shooting straight into the control room. Once they’ve disconnected to the neurolink and the system was deactivated, Y/n walks over to him, wrapping her arms around his body. 

“You’re gonna be okay, right?”

Seonghwa could feel a stinging in his chest, hearing the slight crack in her voice. He removes her helmet, his hand runs over her hair, then he brings her close to his chest gently with his hand at the back of her head.

“Of course I am. Especially when you’re with me.”

They went down the lift together, hands linked and all. The other pilots were already down to felicitate them with the success of their test drive. Some of them had talked about the possibilities that lie within the lines of Seonghwa’s past. If anything, they expected something like that to happen during their test drive. Even if that event was thirteen years ago, it was the root of Seonghwa’s anguish. He didn’t recover from it over the period of those thirteen years, isolating himself only trapped him in that memory. But now that he’s back, and he’s got someone to hold his heart, someone that’ll help him find the pieces of himself he’s lost in the past, and put them back together. 

That day, the chief realized just how important Y/n is to Seonghwa. The connection was nothing but real, and it was powerful. If the chief chose to send someone else in, Dawn might’ve faced a serious accident that’ll damage the system, and Seonghwa would be back in the walls. Y/n was Seonghwa’s key to healing his trauma. The chief believed that no one would be able to sedate him, no one but her. The chief spent his whole night thinking about it. He knew that it wouldn’t be easy for Seonghwa after thirteen years of being out of commission considering the loss he suffered for it. He thought about the link Y/n and Seonghwa shared, Choi San. Seonghwa knew about Y/n because San always had stories about her, and Y/n knew Seonghwa through the stories of others, and through the chief himself. Seonghwa was the man her brother trusted the most, the man he treated like his own brother, the man he gave his life for. When Y/n heard that Seonghwa was being retrieved from the walls, she started thinking of all the questions she wanted to ask, she wanted to know if her brother was still the happy, loving, and emotional boy she grew up with. It only made sense for Y/n and Seonghwa to share this powerful link. 

Later that night, sounds of metal clanking would be heard at the halls of the dignitary rooms. Lieutenant Park and his co-pilot had gone to rest, but they would both be going through one door. Seonghwa’s back rested on the headboard of his bed, and his hands held Y/n’s waist. She straddled his hips, laying her weight on his thighs. He had his face buried at the side of her neck, planting soft kisses, making her giggle.

She pulls on his hair, very gently, as a means to move him away from her neck. “Hwa, we really should go to sleep.”

He lifts his head up, allowing himself to melt into her gaze. He pulls her closer by her waist, pressing his lips onto hers. 

“I wonder what my brother would say, seeing me on top of you like this.” she had his locks wrapped around her fingers.

“We’re not up to any trouble, are we?” he says as he pulls her in even more, their chests pressing into each other. 

“Sure, Lieutenant Park.” 

The two fell asleep in each other’s arms, holding each other in place so closely, like a soft blow of the wind could take either of them away form each other. Their soft snores and groans would become a lullabye to them, sleeping soundly against each other’s bodies. 

They would remain close to each other, at most times, Seonghwa would be in the training facility, leading the sessions. The cadets would see him as a role model, knowing his history as being one of the first pilots that didn’t die from brain cancer. They admired his wits when it came to combat. “Fighting is not just about strength.” —he’d remind them every time. The teratos continue to develop to a significant level of intelligence throughout the years, and the only way to beat them is to outsmart them. And there are no specifics when it comes to acumen in battle, it’s no secret that one has to have experienced numerous battles to devise a counterattack with very little time. But Seonghwa would tell them, a kid that can fight can beat a warrior that won five hundred wars. Experience does not equal greatness, at least not in all cases. It depends on the fighter. What one must possess is determination, speed, and critical thinking. “If all options lead to a sacrifice, always choose the one that will harm you the most. And never do it for the sake of your ego and having your name written all over the news, do it because it is your duty and obligation. Remember, we save millions of lives, not one, not our own, not just our friends, not just our families.”

Y/n would join training from time to time, but she’s often busy studying the excessive seismic waves that travel consistently throughout the pacific. Its focus is Terannia. The entities open their portal at one spot, and they could only keep it open to release a few teratos at a time. These beasts seem to have an objective of their own now. One had been spotted in Taiwan, and was headed to a Dawn subsidiary. That’s why Goliath Sayan was off to Taiwan that day. Then another one approaching the north, to the main headquarters. But then there was one more in the south, then one off to Australia. The monsters were keeping each Goliath to themselves. They were able to keep count of just how many Goliaths there were that’s being actively operated. 

Reaper would be the one to take on the monster approaching the headquarters. According to the radar team, that terato is the most challenging of the bunch, and according to Hongjoong, Reaper is the Goliath for the job. And so, Lieutenant Park and Lieutenant Choi were up for their first mission. The whole headquarters was busy preparing all four Goliaths, Sayan and Judas already being flown to their designated battles. Dethra was off as well, and all that’s left is Reaper. Its pilots are already settled in, waiting for the ships to fly them to the north to converge with the beast. 

“You ready Lieutenant?” Seonghwa asks his co-pilot before their Goliath was dropped on the ocean. 

“Only if you are, Lieutenant.” 

Once being dropped, the monster rose from under the water. It was a quick paced combat, thankfully, their cognition was at its best condition. The monster was reckless, using its tail to attempt crushing the Goliath. There was some evident damage, but Reaper was able to power through, grabbing the end of its tail, and the other arm would eject a sword that pierced through the monster’s jaw. Reaper threw the beast off of its body, laying it on the ground. The monster manages to kick Reaper off the ocean ground. The pilots winced in chorus, but they got up regardless of the pain and finishes of the terato at once.

“Sayan is in critical condition. North team, head to Taiwan, now!”

It was a busy thirty-six hours for Dawn. They almost lost Sayan, and Judas. Judas was not able to receive back-up, fortunately, Mingi woke up from passing out because of the toxic gas being emitted by the terato, Judas’ faceplate was broken, which was why the gas got in. The downside was, Mingi’s dad is currently fighting for his life at the infirmary. Wooyoung and Jongho were severely injured. Jongho was still able to speak and sit up, but Wooyoung was completely out, unable to utter anything but a groan. 

Y/n and Seonghwa suffered minor injuries —alike Dethra’s pilots. All they needed was a few painkillers and bandages, their muscles were completely fine. Reaper’s pilots felt the same lingering pain around their torso from when the terato had tried to crush them with its tail.

“It hurts like shit. But we’re heroes. Heroes don’t surrender to pain!” Seonghwa laughs at Y/n’s exclamation, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walk to the cafeteria.

“It’ll go away after…” Seonghwa hisses, shaking his head once before he adds, “After three days or so, or maybe a week.” he whispers the last part, yet she was still able to hear. 

“A week?”

“I was only joking sweetheart. I can make it go away if you’d like that.”

“Yeah? and how would you be able to do that?”

“How about you leave your door unlocked tonight sweetheart? sounds good?”

He chuckles and holds her closer to him when she hums an affirmation. Later that night, he did just that. He lays on his side, just slightly, allowing Y/n to lay herself on him as he massages her waist with his hands. 

“How about you? doesn’t it hurt for you?” Seonghwa’s heart flutters at the heat of Y/n’s breath as she whispers to him.

“It does, but it doesn’t really bother me.”

“Really?” she looked up at him, and he could see his own reflection in her eyes, even with the very little amount of light. 

He stares at her with awe, moving one hand to her jaw as he places a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t worry about me sweetheart.”

Slumber dawned on them, and they’d be in deep sleep despite their sore muscles and aching torsos. They’d stay in that position, and the next morning they’d get caught leaving Y/n’s room by Yeosang who swore he “didn’t see anything”. They just laughed it out. Everyone in the headquarters by then should’ve already figured out that they “have something going on”, so both of them had no problem displaying their care and affection towards each other even with people around. It was no question why they work so well together in combat. 

While the terato attacks have minimized, Y/n made herself busy in her lab. She had acquired another live terato brain. She figured, if she connected her consciousness with it, she’d be able to look into their world and what it is they have in store for Earth. She devises a plan, but she had to be extra safe. So she takes Seonghwa with her to her psychreader. She plans to connect the monster’s brain to her own. She knew it would be risky and might cause neurological injury to her —immensely affecting her stability as a pilot. But she had to. She needed to see into the mind of a terato. She’s convinced there’s more to a terato’s mind besides violence and bloodthirst. 

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Seonghwa’s eyes were furrowed, expressing his worries with his face and his intonation. 

“We’re about to find out.”

“Y/n.”

“Hwa, unplug it if you think I’m dying, okay?”

“Y/n, maybe you should consult with the others before you do this.”

She stops for a while, taking some time to think about what Seonghwa had just said. “Yeah, maybe I should. But we don’t have much time. Please understand, Hwa.”

Seonghwa’s expression softens, sighing to himself. “I don’t understand Y/n, but I'll support you no matter what.”

 Y/n nods once, setting up the equipment. She settles herself next to the psychreader machine, breathing in heavily as she turns up the power and holds the headgear —that she created a few moments prior— above her head, “Ready.” she wears the gear, and signals Seonghwa to press the start button. The currents struck her nerves almost immediately, but she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. For a second, there was only complete darkness, then a bright flash of light. The visions started to surge into her sentience. She saw a world that was red and violet, with thunders and growls of monsters and creatures beyond the imagination of the human mind. She sees a civilization, a whole species of extraterrestrials. Then a planet somewhere far from the solar system. She saw portals, and texts in a language unknown to Earth, then an image of Earth being swallowed by the dark—

“Y/n! Wake up, please!” she breathes in and out heavily. She had traveled into the mind of their enemy, into their home planet. It was a sight for horrors, but it is vital information for Dawn. 

With her fingers, she feels for the blood that came out of her nose. Seonghwa would come rushing to replace her fingers with a washcloth, making sure the blood doesn’t get anywhere else. He looked into her eyes and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“Y/n, your eyes…”

“Hwa, I know what they want, they—” she gulps, panting a bit more before she requests, “Can I get some water?”

She receives it just a minute later, “You can rest for a while sweetheart, it can wait.”

“Yes, but—” she downs the glass of water within a minute, some liquid getting onto her shirt, forming a small, wet patch just above her chest. “I have to tell you.”

She stands up, stumbling a bit as she goes to her corkboard where she had tied the evidence together, without much of a conclusion for it all. But now, she finally figured it out.

“Terannia is a planet beyond our solar system. They want ours to feed on the life it has to offer. They —they…” she breathed out heavily, propping herself up with both hands as she tried to get rid of the headache that came battering on her. 

“Y/n, can you at least sit down?” Seonghwa says as he turns her around, bringing a hand to her face and gently grazing his thumb over her cheek.

She nods, letting him take her to the sofa. 

“Continue, doctor.”

Y/n closed her eyes, then continued, “They want to take Earth’s place in the solar system so they can foster life. They want to build a paradise and they’re willing to kill off an entire planet to make it come true. They plan on keeping the portal open to let out every single terato they have so that they could consume Earth and its whole. Their planet is being run by some alien species, the teratos are their warriors, kind of like pets in some way. And the brain we acquire from the ones we’ve killed? it’s only their secondary brain. They share one core brain back on their home planet and through the core brain they can access every memory, every battle the secondary brains were subjected to, and that’s how they’re able to upgrade the teratos every time.”

Seonghwa moves himself closer to her after seeing the tremors of her hands. He grabs both hands with his own pair, easing the tremors away with his touch. “Is there a way for us to get into that portal?”

“Yes, but, there are teratos guarding the portal here on Earth and back on their planet. Even if we get past their guards in the Pacific, we might get crushed the moment we pass through that portal.”

“Then, how do you suggest we stop those monsters for good?”

Y/n stares into his eyes for a while before her eyes shifted somewhere on the floor. Using everything she was able to pick up from interconnecting her own brain with the terato’s, she was able to formulate a rough plan. 

“Well, I know you’re thinking about infiltrating them before they do that to us —that would be the best move for us to make, get in, drop a nuclear bomb and get out, but we’d have to be extra careful. If there’s five of us, some could focus on killing off the guards roaming the pacific while one or two get into the portal. Whatever awaits on the other side, we’d have to be prepared for a large strike, remember they share a core brain, which means they would know when we’re going through that portal.”

“Unless, we kill those guards and mush their brains up.”

“I…” Y/n was flabbergasted, hearing such words from such a sweet man, “...think that would work, yes.”

“Then let’s call for the chief, right now.”

“Wait, wait. What if he thinks I’m being ridiculous?” 

Seonghwa held her face in his hands. “He won’t think that, trust me sweetheart. I’m your witness, I’ll back you up. Trust me.”

She brings her hand up to her face and places it on top of his hand, “I trust you, Hwa.”

He places a kiss on her forehead, then on her lips. He guides her to stand up, getting lost in each other’s gaze. 

“Then let’s save the world, Lieutenant Choi.”

a/n: this was why i haven't updated my woosan smau :D

[hanibalistic]

. idea dump. except i actually am writing these two, with an additional universe

1. brother my brother

after long consideration, donghyuck has switcued to hyunjin so i am make obvious 'angelic physical appearance and condemned status' symbolization.

platonic au - hyunjin and reader are pseudo siblings. they share half of each other's heart. hyunjin resents reader for it. currently finished planning for part 1 but I roughly know where this story is gonna go. still debating if i want gruesome things to happen to them or just have it as general angst.

2. vessel felix - from a dream i have!

this story has two archs — search and revive.

magic is gone. the world has gone crazy. witches lost their magic or the ability to siphon from nature. felix has magic? crazy! what is his history? isn't he human? oh jolly golly, let's go find readers' two mothers living in the woods. double golly, they are dead! felix help me find what happened to my mom. of course i will help you, i can't say no to a grieving fellow! chan is blind, minho is mean >:( they are government officials! hey you two kids, we think you are the keys to restoring magic to earth. please bargain with god for us!

two story archs: finding mom (1), reviving magic (2). very long story.

3. pawn shop owner - soulmate au

reader and felix are soulmates. felix die because god pew pew with each other. god is sad, god tells reader sorry here have the arrow that killed your lover. magic arrow made reader immortal. reader set out on adventure to find magic lamp and made themselves most powerful sorcerer. reader set out to resurrect felix through soul switch. reader meets vampire chan, whose soulmate also die but only because he no die. soul switch. chan wants friend back. chan tells felix your soulmate die for you. felix is sad. felix say he will do the same. felix gather magical materials needed for soul switch and bring reader back. reader confused. chan says oh felix died to bring you back. reader is annoyed. what the fuck i died to bring him back why he do this.

humor soulmate au. every member has their own pair.