#that would be me wailing at everyone's stories there's so much LOSS in this game I need to hug them all

[kojottek]

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 2

a/n: lmao this is set in the first ever inter-high so no kyo yet 😢 

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

I can't wait for yn to meet other volleyball teams. Oikawa refuses to let her see Tobio

I LOVE THIS GIF AND MY HEART LEAPT OUT OF MY CHEST WHEN I SAW THIS LIKE AAAAAAAA

again, we go with the crackheadery

so, basically,,

at this point,, you werent exactly very familiar with the boys but not new so you were kinda already part of the family but there hasnt been any,,,,, deep attraction (??) that developed by the others yet

but this doesnt mean that they arent territorial or protective you!!!

when yall walked in the hallway, you were already catching looks bc wow seijoh just has everything huh

you were walking behind coach irihata until you overheard someone asking where oikawa was and you saw yahaba sweat a little when he didnt know where his captain was

while iwa went to go and get the captain, you had to do a head count to make sure no other player was missing 

kunimi and kindaichi were glaring at other players who were eye-ing you since they were in charge of you whenever iwa or oikawa were gone

but mattsun and makki were publicly making it clear that you were,,, theirs

‘y/n-chan, come give senpai a hug. hes nervous for today’

makki whined and again, you werent very familiar with them yet, but familiar enough to give them their hugs

he hugged you from behind while you reviewed their notes and with his chin on your head, his eyes mockingly glared at the different schools with a smirk playing on his lips

my god were they such drama queens like bls

finally, oikawa arrived and he skipped over to you

‘y/n-chaaaannnn!!!! oikawa-san is sorry for leaving you aloneee!!!!!!’

but you didnt even look at him, continuing your review

‘dont do that next time, oikawa-san. you made iwaizumi-san look for you and held up the team’

you bluntly scolded and oikawa had teary eyes

‘y-y/n-chan, im really sorry! y/n-chan!’

he wailed and ripped you away from makki and into his arms instead

meanwhile,,, the other teams are like 👁️👄👁️

you continued your walk to the gym but oikawa had his arm around you, as if telling others you were his while iwa held your hand as he sent everyone a warning with his eyes like if they laid a finger on you, he would snap their arms in half

it made their blood boil as the eyes of these,,, testosterones,,, kept staring at you and running their eyes up and down and you squeezed iwa’s hand before he could go over and rip their eyeballs out of their face

woah there mister

as you entered the gym’s bleachers, oikawa kept you in his arms and the karasuno team were confused bc they didnt see a manager when they had their practice match

‘yohoo, tobio-chan, chibi-chan’

you sighed and gave the black and orange team an apologetic smile

when iwa smacked oikawa, you bowed slightly

‘sorry about him’

oikawa hurriedly hid you behind him and pouted

‘no, stay away from their sights, y/n-chan. theyre not worthy to lay their eyes on you’

you elbowed him though

‘what kind of nonsense are you spouting?’

‘but you are oikawa-san’s, y/n-chan!’

he whined and tobio was like, ‘oh, another girlfriend then’

bahahaha, hes so used to seeing his upperclassman with a girl and hes just like, ‘best of luck’

you shook your head and raised a hand with a smile

‘hello, my name is l/n y/n and im their manager. please excuse my captain and carry on to your warm-ups’

karasuno nodded wordlessly, taken aback by how cold yet pretty you were

it was like the younger version of their own kiyoko shimizu!!!

the others settled on their seats while iwa and kindaichi leaned over the railing to get a better view but oikawa was disinterested, arm around your shoulder and you were only closer to him due to his warmth

you pouted bc iwa-san was standing and you missed his warmth but oikawa would have to settle for now

the nearby teams that came to watch the match were giving you looks and especially the green-jacket team were staring so,,,, so hungrily,, at you and oikawa twitched at how disgusting it was

you were watching the game but was distracted when oikawa leaned his head on your neck, breath hitting your skin

‘oikawa-san? are you okay?’

you asked but he shook his head

‘oikawa-san really loves you, y/n-chan’

he made his voice a little louder to make his point across and the others diverted their gazes in a hurry when his cold smirk met their faces

you shrugged

‘thank you, oikawa-san’

makki and mattsun snickered at the dismissive answer but oikawa didnt care because all he wanted was to make the other boys back off

you heard oikawa mumble serveral times about some tobio-chan and you guessed it might have been the blueberry looking head that he taunted earlier since he couldnt have been a chibi

ngl, you were attracted by how seemed to ooze talent and you leaned forward, wanting to get more of a look of him

ofc OIKAWA THREW A RIOT and he pulled you back, placing a hand on your thigh

‘y/n-chan, careful, you might fall forward’

he stiffly warned but he truthfully didnt want you to get a closer look on his kouhai

you kept your gaze on the karasuno setter and held oikawa’s hand to get it off of your thigh

‘im okay, oikawa-san. i just want,,, a better look’

you mumbled and oikawa was staring at you intensely

oh my god, what if you recognized kageyama as a better player?

would you leave him?

would you think hes a terrible setter?

worries racked up on his brain but he snapped out of it when you turned your head after feeling his stare

‘are you okay, oikawa-san?’

you asked, worriedly since he was pale and his eyebrows were furrowed

‘y/n-chan, do you think tobio-chan is better than me?’

he asked, eyes focused on your face but so faraway

you quirked your eyebrows but still answered

‘no, i dont think so. ive never seen him play before and this is my first time so ive never really gotten a gauge of his skills. besides, youre really good so its unlikely hes better than you, or anybody else for a fact. your sets look so much,,,, whats the word,,, connected?,, yea, much more connected therefore better for our team but his is very,,, glitchy,,,?? other than that, youre still better than anybody else in my eyes. why? are you doubting yourself again, oikawa-san? because if you are, i will bonk you again’

you threantened but he let out a relieved chuckle

he placed a hand on top of your head and ruffled your hair, a smile on his face then bowed his head low

‘go on, then, y/n-chan. bonk oikawa-san’

you turned to share a bewildered look with yahaba and watari

‘no. because you asked me to, i wont. youre so weird, oikawa-san. wanting me to do weird things to you and being so confusing’

you mumbled cutely and oikawa bit his lip to contain his squeal but held your hand tighter

‘y/n-chan, youre not good for oikawa-san’s heart’

he whined but you punched his arm

‘be quiet, oikawa-san. look, that chibi’s flying!’

you pointed and that was enough to distract him from you and towards the game

when his gaze was away, you gave him a worried glance

you heard from iwa that he was insecure and suffers from inferiority complex but you didnt know it was this bad

that was it

you were going to help him realize he was a great player and he is equal with everyone and no one is above him because hes talented and his hardwork makes up for those losses

when karasuno emerged as victors, the team stood up to make their leave and prepare for their own match but you strayed away, claiming you needed to use the bathroom

‘we’ll wait for you, y/n-chan!’

oikawa said but you waved your hands no

‘i-,,,  need to use it and besides, i have a friend here! please, go ahead!’

iwa gave you a suspicious glance

‘who is it? we can still wait’

you pouted and huffed before giving them your puppy eyes

their eyes widened and they nodded, stuttering that they will meet you in the gym

when they were finally out of sight, you ran down hallway and finally found the black-jacket team gathered by an entrance

it was hinata who noticed you and pointed at you, claiming you are the goddess seijoh manager

but you didnt mind and focused on the blueberry

‘kageyama-san?’

you heard iwa mention him and you figured it was his last name

the poor boy was stuttering and awkwardly nodding in greeting

but you clenched your fists

‘i might not be a professional or a volleyball enthusiast but oikawa-san recognizes your talent and he considers you a rival so i do too. kageyama-san, karasuno, we will defeat you. you will face oikawa-san and iwaizumi-san and mattsun-san and makki-san and the others and you will tremble at our strength so play with everything you got because no matter what, we will win. congratulations on your win with your match but i noticed you holding back on them. if i see you, karasuno, kageyama-san, not playing your best, you will face my wrath. keep that in mind.’

you bowed deeply and they were so taken aback bc adkfj;sadfkjask what is going on why is this little chibi threatning them why is kageyama being pointed out what

sugawara let out a shocked chuckle before fussing at you to stand back straight and to not bow at them

you nodded but you held out your phone to the blueberry, a gentle smile on your face

‘i understand you are iwaizumi-san and oikawa-san’s underclassman from middle school. if you would, please exchange contacts with me and you can tell me stories about my boys so i can use it against them to rein them in whenever they get out of control, especially oikawa-san’

lmao y/n whos child are you

poor kagellama tobiyolo stopped functioning and it took sugawara to put in his contact for him

YOU CANNOT TELL ME SUGAMAMA DOES NOT MEMORIZE HIS CHILDRENS CONTACTS

you finally gave everyone a bright smile and waved your hand

‘ill be going now. thank you for your contact, kageyama-san, and expect a text from me later. karasuno, continue playing and the next time i will see you will be in the court. thank you’

when you left, they were still frozen

and kageyama was so red and so flustered bc not only did a girl talk to him, but a PRETTY GIRL talked to him

‘kageyama?! oh my god kageyama’s broken! help!’

seijoh saw you entering the gym and they fussed over you and asked where you went off to since it took you a long time

‘i just talked threatened to kageyama-san’

at the mention of that name, everyone stood still 

but when you mentioned you exchange contacts

oikawa screamed

[yejiroh]

Hello! I love your Wake Up and See Me story! (not so secret slut for angst and character death) I'd like to request very angsty HCs for Obey me! charas x fem!reader who is still grieving for her family singing her mother's lullaby while spacing out somewhere public. The lullaby in question being Lullaby of Woe by Ashley Serena, The Hanging Tree from Hunger Games series or Come Little Children by Erutan. Wanna see their reactions so bad!!!

I- I really need to update that series. Thank you so much for the support of it anon!

And thank you for the request darling! I’m sorry it took so long, but the lullaby’s were beautiful! So yes, I decided to listen to them all and match them with who I think it’d get the best reaction from! I made a little scene as well before the reactions, so it may or may not be a bit of a long read.

Lullaby Reaction! Obey Me BROTHERS x Fem!MC (ANGST)

Couldn't add the Keep Reading link because Tumblr is a beeotch. Sorry not sorry to everyone because this is LONG!

***

TRIGGER WARNING: death, loss of parents, toxicity, mentions of cannibalism, more death, child abuse, traumatic stress, mentions of suicide, nightmare factors, unintentional murder, loss of siblings, and as the anon requested, A SHIT TON OF ANGST!

Side note: I really really liked Lullaby of Woe...may consider making a series based on the lyrics. Who knows?

***

This one is kind of long because I did get carried away, but I do hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

***

Lucifer, Mammon and Beezlebub: Come Little Children

As the cool Autumn breeze hit her face, MC took a sip from the hot cup between her clothed hands. Today would mark the 15th year since the orphanage- her orphanage, had burned down. All 23 children and her parents except she had burned to an ash- less than that truly. She, with her ill body and frail stature, she, with her poor value and level of importance, she, the one who had been trapped in the building longest of all.

Every time she had walked into the toy store around the corner, MC felt pulled towards the puzzle sets. Specifically, the 24 piece sets. MC was the 24th child. But she was also the first. Every day, she’d buy a set, just to lay it on their graves, sorry that she had been left behind. 

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away, into a land of enchantment…oh momma, I’m so sorry I let you all down...I’m sorry I played with the fire, I’m sorry.” A tear had poured down, slid to her dry lips as she desperately held them back.

“I’m sorry momma...papa...I’m sorry I didn’t listen...I’m sorry I killed you all…”

And, as she walked away from the tombstones, a heart that was not hers broke.

{Reactions}

LUCIFER:

1.Never before had Lucifer been so...disturbed.

2.The song was stunning, and that was true….but somehow he could relate

3.He would definitely stay on the down low for a while, his pride showing when he has to come up with lies as to why he wasn’t talking to you

4.Okay, flashbacks for weeks. He was genuinely affected by the song.

5.In the end, he needs more comfort than you once he finally kicks pride out the window and sheds tears in front of you.

6.“I’m sorry, MC…”

MAMMON:

1.Okay...he wasn’t the best at spying on you-but he was worried! Your behavior was odd since last Sunday...actually, every Sunday.

2.He ran out to you, crying hard as he tackled you, saying how sorry he was for digging into your personal life. 

3.The demon was holding fistfulls of little puzzle pieces, candy, and notes, claiming they were from the souls of the children, who wished you the best in life and to move on.

4.He, the avatar of greed, had done something of huge charitable value for these children as he held you close

5.Yes, he got flashbacks….but decided not to dwell on them, more so trying to comfort you.

6.“Stupid human...you can come to me always, ya know that?”

BEEZLEBUB:

1.Beezlebub doesn’t always show his feelings, sure. But he does, forever and always, come for those he cares about. 

2.It’s like a magnetic pull as you cry. He’s there, wiping the large tear threatening to spill with his thumb, licking it off before wiping his hand off. 

3.A kind smile with eyes pain ridden as his big hands engulf your own, for he too, had a tragic past and lost someone he considered blood.

4.“It’s okay, MC. They’re right here, and always will be. Please don’t cry.” He says as he points to your heart, right by your breast, but with no sexual intent. Only comfort. 

5.“Come on, big girl, don’t cry, I’m here.” He says, holding you close and running his fingers through your hair with the gentlest of touches.

6. No one can harm you in your vulnerable state as the Avatar of Gluttony protects you.

Satan and Asmodeus: The Hanging Tree

It was in class- herbology. The lesson was on wisteria trees when MC bordly began to hum a tune.

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? They strung up a man, they say who murdered three. Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight, in the hanging tree.” 

“Miss L/n quiet down! I’m trying to teach!” The professor had called out, but MC was lost as tears began to bubble up. She continued her little song quietly as her desk mates huffed in annoyance. She’d done this every day of the week, only to end up crying. Nobody knew what was wrong with her, nor did they get a word out of her. Not until Amso took MC and Satan out for a spa treatment.

Filing her nails, Asmo blew off the dust, his brows furrowed.

“Say, MC?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is it you sing that depressing song every time someone brings up wisteria trees?”

Now Satan looked up, lifting a cucumber off his eye, his curiosity sparked. MC looked away, pulling her hand away from Asmo’s as she pulled her knees to her chest, a deep sigh escaping her lips. Asmo quickly waved his hands in front of him.

“Oh, sorry, sorry MC! I didn’t know it was a touchy subject-”

Satan interrupted. “Care to share?”

“Satan!”

“No, no, Asmo- it’s okay. It’s...it’s just not something I really talk about.” MC said, finishing off with a whisper. 

The two leaned in, eyes big and expectant when MC looked to them.

“You know, my father passed away when I was really young. It was a selfish reason, really- to put it into his own words, it was, “To escape the responsibility of life.” , but that wasn’t the case.” MC  raised her pant leg, revealing all the burn marks and scars covering the skin. 

“It was really to escape the guilt of hurting me.”

The brothers went quiet for a moment before Satan put a hand up.

“So what does that have to do with that song you were singing?”

MC smiled bitterly. “Because he was the man in The Hanging Tree my mother always sang to me.”

“So what happened to your mother?”

“She too, joined him in death…and left me alone.”

{Reactions}

SATAN: 

1.He was at a loss for words, to say the least.

2.Never, in the demon’s countless millennia had he come across such a pitiful soul

3.Taking a bite of the cucumber before tossing it aside, he took the other off, tracing his fingers across the burns that resembled his rage: Ugly, loved, and traumatizing

4.As the room was quiet, he just felt intrigued to know more, had to know more. 

5.“You’re very strong, MC.”

6.The Hanging Tree did not leave his mind for quite some time as he tried to figure out the mystery MC had unknowingly left implanted in his brain.

ASMODEUS:

1.He has never ruined his makeup by crying in front of somewhere. Never ever.

2.But he sure as hell came close to it. 

3.Asmo had nothing to say but grab MC’s hands and kiss them softly over and over again before continuing the manicure he had initially started.

4.A mental note to take MC’s mind off other things so as not to give her wrinkles from stress or depression. 

Leviathan and Belphegor: Lullaby of Woe

She never had a peaceful night's rest. The dreams always came back to haunt her.Each night, she’d live through it, again, and again, and again. Oh, how the false man in white would come to her, a mischievous grin on his handsome face before cutting into her mind, showing her the deaths at her fault. Her mother, kind and beautiful, always coming in to protect her, reassure her that it wasn’t real, that she was seeing things. 

“Momma, please! I’m scared! I don’t wanna see him again momma!” A little girl wailed, holding onto her mother’s waist, legs wrapped around in a firm hold, hands bundled in her clothes.

“My darling, please just sleep~ I’ll always be here love. Always.”

And always she was, for her remains laid in that rotting home to this day, not yet known. Still, no one would believe the late Mrs. L/n’s daughter.

MC shuffled more in her sleep before finally waking up, eyes puffy from the unconscious crying. Slowly she got up, getting ready for the school day as she washed her face, prepared, and left the room. 

“Good morning.” Each of the brothers would greet her, to which she’d return a small nod. There was nothing to talk about. Not when these nightmares haunted her so.

A little girl sat by her mother’s corpse, a man beside her.

Drink, child. Feast in the blood of a sinner.

“...But….but mother wasn’t a sinner…”

“Ignorant child. You are but a bastard, for she was never married. Drink and cleanse yourself of the blood of a sinner. Repent and be saved.”

Truly, the false man in white was but a liar, wanting nothing more than a child’s innocence and fortune as he toyed with her. 

Lost in her own fantasies, she began to sing, the tall Jubokko tree towering beneath her with the damned’s skulls by her feat. 

“For the witcher, heartless, cold...Paid in coin of gold, He comes he’ll go leave naught behind, but heartache and woe…”

“Deep, deep woe, for the witcher, heartless, cold, Paid in coin of gold, he comes…”

MC’s voice broke into it, pathetic cracks of the voice clear but quiet as she stopped.

A small applause was heard behind her; Belphie and Levi had seen and listened patiently, attentive and concerned.

The Avatar of Sloth put his arms down, kicking a skull as he sat down.

“That was a beautiful song, MC. What has made you so upset?”

Levi too, had sat down, his eyes no longer focused on the forgotten D.D.D.

MC just smiled sheepishly, sitting down with the boys as she tucked back a loose strand away. 

“It was nothing important. A story for another time.”

{Reactions}

BELPHEGOR:

1.Girl, honey, darling. You're lying. It’s okay! You can trust him!

2.If MC doesn’t end up telling him, then he can just slip into the dreams (I think?)

3.Honestly worried for you. He’s the Avatar of Sleep- he KNOWS you’ve been disturbed lately, and more so than others.

4.Can you imagine the pure look of hatred once he finds out about this man?

5.And ew, you drank your mother’s blood? 

6.But that’s cannibalism, which is a major sin so…

7.I guess you really can stay with him forever!

8.Honestly, he’s like a flame; burns as long as there’s fuel, then will move on to another topic.

LEVIATHAN:

1.So yeah. He didn’t really say anything.

2.But he was listening. 

3.Didn’t make an anime reference once because nothing he’s ever knew of had been that horrifying. 

4. Didn’t wanna make you feel shy about it, but kind of hints about it later on. 

5.No, he doesn’t care about the man, because as you sat down on the skull ridden dirt, you just seemed so...peaceful

[gra-sonas]

Day after day this summer, with covid-19 shuttering much of the world, Lily Cowles would enter a small sewing room in her family’s 18th century home in Northwest Connecticut, crawl inside some blankets, and scream. Along with her wails, she’d repeat the same phrases, over and over — all part of a daily ritual that spanned some four hours, until a collection of voices told her they were satisfied. Then she would collect herself, climb out from the blankets and greet her boyfriend who could hear her through the walls in the next room.

“Man, you died a lot of ways today,” he’d say.

“I don’t know why they killed me so bad,” Cowles would reply.

Such were the unusual conditions for Cowles and others when recording the dialogue — and other vocalizations — for the upcoming game “Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War,” the newest addition to the famed and fanciful war sim series. The blanket-draped fort served as the actress’s workstation, with a host of audio producers providing directions via video conference. Occasionally those instructions included imagining a wide variety of fates for her character, requiring lengthy sessions capturing death cries. All of it was part of a months-long, pandemic-related process to produce the game, one that proved both challenging in its never-before-done nature and cathartic for its ample opportunities to exorcise the many anxieties of 2020.

“It just felt so good to scream for that long,” said Cowles, who plays MI-6 operative Helen Park and supplied the character’s voice for both the game’s story and multiplayer modes. She recalled one session in which the game’s audio producers recorded her falling from a 30-story building. “I was like, ‘can we make it 40 floors? I could really use the extra 10 [stories] of just straight screaming.’ It just felt like a real relief.”

The unorthodox routine was shared by “Cold War’s” cast of 125 actors as they pivoted to follow safety protocols related to the novel coronavirus, which temporarily shut down the game’s production in March. The latest installment in the Call of Duty franchise, releasing Nov. 13, was completed with both developers and actors working remotely and overcoming a variety of logistical challenges.

“At the time [in March, when covid cases escalated in the United States] we thought it might be like 20 people or 50 percent of the studio who would have to work from home, and maybe that would be for like two weeks,” Dan Vondrak, Senior Creative Director at Raven Software, said. “And then it was everybody. … In my head, I was thinking, if this thing lasts six to eight weeks, we can’t get it done. That’s impossible.”

For Cowles and the game’s other actors, that meant recording lines of dialogue — and their many screams — from the confines of their homes. That process normally would be captured in large part during live shoots using motion capture suits on a studio sound stage. During the pandemic, capturing those recordings provided a unique challenge for narrative producer Natalie Pohorski and her team.

“One of those areas I thought we were just dead in the water was the external talent [voice overs],” Vondrak said. “I can’t have actors go into a studio. So, how is this going to work? And what Natalie and the narrative team did to get that to work and have people recording at home was unbelievable.”

Before dispersing from the studio, Pohorski and Vondrak estimated they had between 50 and 60 percent of the voice over work finalized. Working with their partners at Activision (the game’s publisher) and Treyarch (“Cold War’s” co-developer), Pohorski and her team shipped the actors crates filled with recording equipment that included helmets wired with microphones, sound mixing boards and materials to improve the acoustics around their homes.

“They sent me this giant Pelican briefcase that looked like I’m an arms dealer,” Cowles said.

Veteran actor Bruce Thomas, who plays the role of CIA agent Russell Adler in the game, already had a 5-foot-by-5-foot sound booth he’d constructed in his apartment adjacent to his kitchen. He’d used it to previously to record voice overs, including for some commercials, but he’d never recorded himself there quite so regularly — or at quite the same volume level. To that end, he sought to get ahead of any potential problems with a kind gesture and a heads-up for his neighbors about any yells they may hear through the walls.

“I delivered cookies and a little note to their doors right next to me and below me,” Thomas said. “I just moved here in January, so I hadn’t really met them yet, and I got a text message from the person below me who was like, ‘Oh my God! You do that for a living? How cool is that? Even if I hear you, don’t worry about it.’”

The conditions also required the actors to perform another role as well: that of audio engineer, recording and tinkering with sound levels to ensure quality and consistency. The studio’s engineers would call actors and walk them through proper setups and troubleshoot issues, but when something went wrong, the actors would have to be the ones to fix it manually. Turns out CIA operatives have the same tech troubles as other remote workers.

“Because of covid, everybody’s home and sharing bandwidth,” Thomas said about the Internet connection in his apartment building. “Sometimes it would just cut right out [during an online recording session]. And sometimes when that happens, a glitch will happen on your laptop and so you have to reboot it.”

The recording process consisted of four sessions per day, every day of the week, according to Pohorski, who also noted they wrapped at a similar time compared to what they’d anticipated in their pre-pandemic production schedule, even as they navigated challenges that would have been easily addressed in their usual studio setting.

“To not be able to just walk up and touch the screen and act out what I was talking about … ‘I want the guy’s head to turn this way,’ … I was trying to do it real time in a video camera,” Vondrak said. “Just the communication of that last 20 percent [of the game] was probably the most difficult.”

The on-the-fly evolution of several standardized processes did carry some fringe benefits, according to both the developers and actors. On the development team, Vondrak noted some people seemed more willing to contribute their opinions to the creative process when they didn’t feel the pressure of speaking up in a formal meeting. For the actors, Cowles said her isolated, remote location led her to take more chances with her character.

“I think I was able to make facial expressions and noises that, in a normal setting, my body would be like, ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t. You don’t want to make that noise. Don’t make that face,’" Cowles said. “But I was alone in this thing, and you know, the context in which we’re working [as characters] is this crazy war zone where horrible things are going down. Right? And no one in that situation is thinking about the sound they’re making or the face that they’re making. … I think that led to a degree of authenticity in my work.”

Another silver lining, according to Vondrak, was the increased flexibility in scheduling follow-up sessions for VO work. Oftentimes VO recording sessions are pegged to specific times of the year when the developers can gather all the actors in one place and free them from their other projects. (For example, Thomas is also the motion capture actor for Master Chief for the upcoming game “Halo: Infinite.”) With everyone working from home, the actors’ schedules became more flexible.

“It was like, wait a minute, we can just go back to these people and have them pop out of their family room, into their closet and record some VO lines,” Vondrak said. “Normally it would have been like, ‘We need some new lines.’ And [the schedulers] would have said, ‘Well, the next pick up session where everyone’s going to be in the studio is June.' It’s [normally] a very slow, formal process."

The flexibility did carry an occasional side effect of home life encroaching on the working world, and vice versa, often providing a uniquely 2020 kind of amusement.

Cowles remembered recording a scene in which her character laments the loss of one of her companions, screaming his name repeatedly as a helicopter whisks her away.

“I came out of the sewing room, and my boyfriend is like … ‘So, who is he?’” Cowles said. “I was like, ‘Don’t worry about it. He’s dead now.’”

[tehesunnysbright]

jatp tag game :) i did not proof read this so it’s kind of a mess...

i was tagged by @willexx and @julesdreambox so thanks for the tag 💕💕💕

favorite character: alex mercer... the only right answer ;) (julie is my second favorite though <3)

character you relate to the most: julie molina and ALEX MERCER

top 3 songs: 1. bright, 2. wake up, and 3. i can never decide but rn i’m going to sayyyyyyy ummmmm wow i’m super indecisive ummmmm stand tall but i seriously love them all and can never choose!

favorite episode: episode 6 or 7 i can never choose because both are too iconic!

most iconic lines: we’re all a little crazy, does anyone know the Heimlich cause julie’s choking, i wish i couldn’t see you, ripping off the bandaid, sunset swerve, julie and the fat ones, when she says deep dish is she like talking about pizza, t-shirt size beautiful, making me blush, you got this, wait were those holograms, put me back in coach, ok, don’t ghost me, demon, because i care about you alex, i still would have followed you, we were gonna be legends, your welcome, girls am i right? yeah! no❤️...

best moment: all of them ... ummm julie singing wake up, the speech before stand tall and when julie is in the alley, alex dancing with dirty candy, the locket scene, the chemistry scene, the part where julie finds out who emily is, i still could have followed you, willex meet cute, luke giving julie bright...the list goes on :)! also all the performances (honorable mention: i got the music bc i love that song and it never gets the hype it deserves)

moment that made you cry the most: ok so i know this is technically not in the show but the behind the band episode 3 i think (the one where they record). i cried a lot during bc i just love the show and the cast so much and they’re so inspiring and i just wanna sing and dance and act tooo!!!!! a show moment (i didn’t cry while watching the show don’t kill me ) that made me cry or almost cry would be bright during my many rewatches and also stand tall :)

moment that made you SQUEEEE the most: literally every willex scene ... like all of them ... also edge of great song guitar riff, the part where we find out alex is gay, stand tall, and alex with dirty candy!

favorite ship: ahhhhh i like so many ahhh i’m a multi shipper too so... favorite cannon ship would be willex and favorite non cannon ship would probably be flarrie or lalex or whatever their ship name is but i like all of the ships like reggie/nick is great and underrated goodie. also luke and reggie (i prefer luke to be reggies bi awakening and one sided crush though ) .... anddddd may i present carrie/reggie, ik that kinda comes out of nowhere but i think it would be sooooooooooo cute!

how/why you started the show: i saw a cover of flying solo on tiktok so then i thought why not start this show... then i watched the trailer and didn’t think i would like it (crazy ik especially since i watch the trailer for fun sometimes... 😳) anyways i ended up watching episode 1 and 2 then went to bed and the next day i continued.

why i love the show: the representation. madison reyes having the lead role is so big and important and special to me... especially as a young latina/hispanic girl. seeing her as julie has changed my life completely and madi is such an amazing role model and makes me want to sing and dance and follow my dreams. the story. grief/loss is one of the main themes of the show and it’s something i don’t have a ton of experience with on a large scale (of course i’ve lost things like friends,etc but a parent and life are huge things ) . it was nice to see this topic showcased in a real and authentic way. the friendships. on screen and off screen. i LOVE the friendship between the phantoms as well and with julie and i love julie’s friendship with flynn. it was really refreshing to see these relationships and such strong bonds in a tv show. the cast is super close and so amazing and cute and they are just so so so talented. the music. of course i love the music and musica elements of the show. the songs and performances are so amazing! the whole cast is so talented and make it look so easy ! i feel like i could pick up a guitar and be just as great as charlie and/or jeremy or wail on some drums and replicate the magic that owen creates (which just attests to the talents of the cast). DIRTY CANDY/DIRTY CANDI. savanah, tori and the other dirty candy(i) girls are so talented and the songs slap i don’t care what anyone says. wow and all eyes on me are bops... i’ll say that til the day i die haha also the dancing is so good like pls can i dance like sav!!!!

tags: everyone who is reading this :)

[bang-tan-bitches]

MONSTER MASH 2020 ENTRY 1

It Wasn’t Me

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This idea hit me while I was playing Among Us with a group of my friends. The only thing going through my mind at the time was “What if Among Us was scary? And put Bangtan in it?? And so, this story was born. This is my lousy attempted at thriller/horror, so sorry if I couldn’t get the feeling across just right. BUT I hope everyone who reads my story will at least have a little bit of fear striking their heart while reading this :> Also I apologies in advance if you’re upset at how the story plays out. Sadly, this is a horror story, based on a game about killing people and shitty decision making.

Words: 5.8K

Warnings/Triggers: A lot of dark places, lots of noises, OC Death, Character Deaths, Some gore (but not extremely descriptive), False accusations, Swearing (lots of it), One or two people have a panic attack (not extremely descriptive), Blood gets mentioned quite often, BTS MEMBERS DO DIE (You have been warned), Talking about dead bodies (I tried to keep it down on describing them), Memory Loss, My really shitty attempt at Horror/Thriller XD, Sorry if I missed anything :(

Music: I was listening to this while writing https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmTkm_o9Glo

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Everyone was quiet. No one making eye-contact, everyone except for Namjoon that is. He was pointedly staring straight at Jungkook with a harsh glint in his eye, or that could just be from his helmet visor reflecting the low light of everyone's flashlights strapped to their shoulders.

“I know it was you Kook, you can give up pretending like you were actually doing something” Namjoon’s words cut through the dimly lit cafeteria. His cyan coloured glove easily scrolling through his tablet searching for Jungkook’s name, the prompt for voting appearing.

“It wasn’t me! Guys I swear it wasn’t!” Kook pleaded to the others, giving up on trying to convince his elder.

“How isn’t it you JK? We last saw her with you!” Taehyung pipes up from his corner of the simplistic dinning bench. “We don’t even know where the body is guys, so everyone calm down we don’t really have time to throw around accusations with no substance to them.”, Yoongi’s apprehensive gaze looks over Jin’s shoulder, a red digital watch blinking as seconds go by threatening to cut their communication with each other.

“Hobi?”, Jimin looks in Hoseok’s direction. Nervous red gloved hands fiddling, his erratic breaths leaving his lips as he tries to keep it together. Tears turning his eyes glassy and unfocused, his mind recalling seeing your body ripped in half on the floor. “It was in Naviga-” his words faulter, a sob running through his entire body, tear stained face falling into his shaking hands.

Everyone looks on with heartbreak in their eyes, Taehyungs leaving the crying man to look at where you would have been sitting right across from him. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing down a sob of his own. Namjoon speaks up again, “Hobi, could you tell... tell if it was fresh?” “Namjoon!” Jin’s voice raises a few octaves, hand ready to slap the younger one behind the head but his arms are restricted by an unknown force and his pink gloved hand returns to his lap. Hoseok wails even more, but he shakes his head a faint mumble of ‘I couldn’t tell’. Jimin looks on, desperate longing to comfort Hoseok.

“Well then, where was everyone? State your current position, one at a time” Yoongi eyes the ticking red digits again, nerves clearly showing in his tone.

“I was busy here in cafeteria, I had to fix the wires!” Jungkook was quick to respond, desperation in his voice. “I was busy redirecting our power source through to our defences, I saw Taehyung with me. But it was dark, I don’t know what he was doing.” Jimin’s shaken voice calls through shortly after, his sad eyes resting on Taehyung. Everyone’s gaze shifted towards him, awaiting his answer. “I was busy downloading Electrical Bay logs, never got to it though so now I need to go stand there again.” A shiver runs down his spine, with his restricted vision in a place as isolated as their electrical bay, he’s sure everyone can relate to his distaste.

“I was with Yoongi in Medical, busy preparing the vial tests. I’m sure he was doing his scan behind me so he must be clear.” Jin’s voice echo’s through the dark room, his nod towards Yoongi is recuperated with a nod back. “Yeah, I was almost done but the... The... Y/A’s body got reported.” Yoongi fights with himself, unable to bring himself to refer to you now as a thing. A dead thing. Fuck, you were alive only minutes ago, he saw you run past Medical. You still gave him a wave of acknowledgement. His black gloved hand lifts out of its own, his fingers mimicking the wave he sent back your way at the time. Namjoon clearing his throat breaks Yoongi out of his trance. Unfocused eyes looking towards the man calling all attention.

“So then that leaves Jungkook, Hoseok and myself as the possible killer. I was in our administration room busy swiping myself into the system. Hobi I need you to pull it together man, what were you doing that side of the ship?” Hoseok’s body doesn’t stop shaking, but he tries to answer through his broken voice. “I just finished cleaning out the oxygen filters, I was on my way down to defences when I saw the blood trail leading to... to her...” His voice finally giving in, nothing but harsh breathing leaving his dry lips.

“Namjoon, I know you’re convinced it might be Jungkook but it’s not enough. It’s risky to vote someone out now. There's still the possibility the monster could be anyone, we don’t even know if there’s more than one. Keep an eye on JK for now, but it would be foolish to vote now.” Jin’s voice is soft, trying not to make his friend fly off the rails again with accusations. “Fine, this is a warning then Kook.” Namjoon’s cyan coloured gloved fingers cancelling his pending vote on Jungkook. Out of the corner of Taehyung’s eye he could see the visible relief in Jungkook’s body, his shoulders sagging and a held breath being pushed out through his nose.

Soon everyone scrolls to the bottom of the list of their names, all casting their votes on passing this meeting off as inconclusive. The digital timer behind Jin fades out, a scratchy robotic voice playing through the intercoms throughout the ship.

“5 votes Inconclusive.” The five crewmembers who voted, their eyebrows shoot into the sky in shock.

“1 vote Namjoon”, this made his heart race, someone is suspecting him? But who? His eyes dart into Jungkook’s direction seeing the youngest already looking his way, sweat gathering by his temples. It must be Kook, he’s trying to get rid of him!

“1 vote Hoseok”, dread colours his face, how can anyone suspect him of killing you? No, nonono this isn’t right. He was your friend; he could never bring himself to breath a bad word in your direction much less be able to kill you! He needs to partner up with someone, he possibly has a target on his back now. He needs to prove how innocent he really is.

“All members return to your duties.”, And with that the intercoms shut down with a muted screech. As if their suits come to life, their helmets start shutting, visors sliding over their faces and locking in at the latch by their chins. Restricted vision in the already darkly it ship with nothing but a low powered flashlight, everyone starts leaving the dinning bench. Jungkook’s purple helmet disappears into the shadows towards the upper end of cafeteria, Jimin and Taehyung running together towards the southern hallway. Namjoon still idles by the dinning bench, the emergency button tempting him into using his one and only use of it. His hands fist by his sides as he has an inner battle with himself, but finally he decides against it and follows Jin and Yoongi’s retreating figures that ran towards the west side of the ship.

Hoseok thought he was going to starts hyperventilating, he found himself alone in the dark. His mind repeating over and over again “target on your back... target on your back...” hesitatingly he runs towards south hallway in search of Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung... he said he would be in electrical bay. Hoseok finally know his exact destination he disappears into the shadows as he searches for his green helmet friend.

Unable to speak to each other, Jin and Yoongi trod along towards Medical bay again. Not close enough to touch each other with stretched arms, but close enough to still make out each other's body in the shadows. Yoongi doesn’t know how long they’ve been on the ship, his memory completely wiped. But he does remember doing his duties and that was the only thing driving him at this point. He can only vaguely recall all his supposed friends faces but even that gave him a headache if he focuses to long on it. The faint thumping of boots can be heard behind them but that soon fades away, sounded far as well so neither of them grew concerned.

The green flickering lights of Medical bay soon lights up the entryway, the letters ‘cal’ completely busted and the letter ‘i’ flickering on and off. Here Yoongi stops and gets ready to turn, but Jin doesn’t follow him. Yoongi’s stress levels spike at this, Jin just continues walking further down the hallway throwing Yoongi two fingers over his shoulder, ‘Peace’. Jin is abandoning him. Before Yoongi could run after, he was gone from his sight. Just the faint thumping of his boots getting softer and softer till the only thing he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and his panicked breathing.

“You can do this Yoongi, just do your scan and leave. All it takes is 10 seconds, more than enough before anyone can catch you alone.”, he tries to encourage himself, knowing no one can hear him over the busted communications in their helmets. Slowly he walks into the supposed Medical Ward. It was anything but that in his eyes.

The room looks like it hasn’t seen anything human in over 50 years. Ward beds lay toppled over or stacked against the wall to his right, some with wheels, others with what looks to be constraint-straps. This room wasn’t as frightful when he was in here with Jin. This ship is a lot better to handle in general when you're with someone else, he thinks to himself.

He accidently kicks over something that looks like a bedpan, nearly shitting himself at the loud clatter that echoes around him. His heart thundering in his chest, he shakes out his hands in front of him. ‘Fucking calm down Min Yoongi. Since when were you the biggest pussy on this ship?!’ With a neck roll he walks in deeper, passing the discarded beds he eyes the floor. There he sees it, the fucking vent. The second thing that drives a knife through everyone’s hearts. He hastens his steps towards the body scanner, he's been in here longer than he would like already. He hears boots running on top of the steel flooring close to the entrance, he holds his breath. The thumping gets louder but he can’t seem to pinpoint if it's from the left or right, just that it’s getting louder.

Deciding not to stand around and look like he’s not doing anything, he turns away from the door and jumps up onto the filthy podium. He can see his boot prints in the dust from when he was standing there previously before discovering your fate. His hand darts out and starts typing in his crew ID, the old machine groaning as it boots up. “Come on, come on, come on... Fuck switch on already you piece of shit!” as if the scanner could hear him it boots up, what used to be lime green lights settling on his form and so the program starts running.

Yoongi could see nothing, the scanner’s lights bouncing off his visor, barely able to see his own intel on the little black monitor in front of him. The whirling and beeping of the machine are deafening, drowning out the hurried footsteps he heard coming towards him. By the time he’s done, a simple 10 seconds he wishes never to experience again, he was climbing of the podium and sending his scan towards admin. Not waiting to see if the scan goes through, he goes running out of Medical while checking his right wrist for his remaining tasks. He heads east, thinking he’ll shortcut through cafeteria. There he bumps into a nervous Jungkook heading the same direction. They stood and stared at each other for what seemed hours. Yoongi could hear footsteps coming from south hallway, Jungkook’s head snapping towards it as well. Yoongi signals east and beckons Jungkook to follow and continues on with his journey. Weather Kook followed him or not, he doesn’t really care because he wasn’t going to look behind him.

Hoseok nearly ran head first into a stack of boxes when he entered Storage Bay. This room always gave him the creeps. Boxes of God-knows-what stacked high to the ceiling. He hates it, he hates it so much here. ‘I just want to go home’, he thinks to himself. ‘Where even is home? Do I have one? This place can’t be my home... right?’, his steps faulter, inner monologue interrupted by movement. He swears he saw someone’s boot out the corner of his eye. “Buddy system Hobi, look for a buddy and stick by them”, he reminds himself, blinking away something wet from his eyes, not sure if it’s tears or sweat at this point. He slowly makes his way between unmarked boxes, vaguely remembering this is the path to the garbage shoot. He sees the silhouette of someone. His heart in his throat, he nears apprehensively, a yellow helmet coming to life. Jimin turns around and his mouth opens in horror when his eyes land on Hoseok so close to him. He goes tumbling to the floor, his arms thrown up in a defensive manner in the hopes it will make the killing blow less painful.

When nothing happens Jimin opens one eye and peaks through his arms. Hoseok just standing there waving his arms telling Jimin to get back on his feet. With a huff Jimin drags his body back into a standing position and eyes Hoseok warily. He dusts of his white spacesuit's pants, doing nothing but spreading the dust and grease over himself even more. Hoseok points towards the west, asking Jimin silently if he would go with. Jimin shakes his head and points east, he has tasks to do that side of the ship. Hoseok clasps his red hands together, contemplating if he should stick with Jimin or continue on his search for Taehyung. Lifting his right arm, he checks his task list. He needs to be at reactor. He waves to Jimin and leaves his yellow friend behind and continuous looking for Taehyung.

Jin leans back in the rickety chair inside security. The chair is missing two wheels and an arm rest but it’s the only comfort he can indulge in right now. He watches the security cameras in a bored haze. He was curious as to why Yoongi left Medical and went back to cafeteria and not come looking for him. Jin leans back as far as the chair will allow before hearing the plastic cracking. He didn’t like having his back turned to the doorway, much less the vent. He eyes the grated hole in the far corner away from him. It’s barely hidden in the shadows but he could still see the dry blood-stained metal in the low light. The room was practically empty except for a lone broken desk, document debris scattered on its top and the floor around it. He already searched through those notes; he still doesn’t know anything. If anything, he was even less wiser than what he was ten minutes ago. He turns back to the cracked monitors in front of him. He needed to find a way off this damned ship, even if it killed him while trying. He knew he had a family somewhere out there, he needed to get back to them. He watches on silently, his right wrist beeping red. He swears he could hear the creaking of metal on metal.

Jimin having turned his back on Hoseok, walked towards defences. The hallway felt longer and darker when he was alone. He could only hear his erratic breathing and his foot falls on the steel below him. He paused. The entrance of communications greeting him. He peered in but saw no one. The room was filthy. Nothing short of looking like a hurricane tore it apart. Electronic equipment shattered and broken litter the floor. Confusi9on clouded his brain, “What happened on this shi-?” A splitting headache seized him between his eyes at that very moment. He fell to his knees screaming himself hoarse. The feeling of hooks tearing his brain apart, membrane from membrane, he tries clutching at his helmet trying to pray it off of himself. Not soon after Jimin’s vision turns black, his body shutting down and his head bangs against the steel floor.

Jungkook walked quietly behind Yoongi, far enough to just see his elder’s boots in his line of vision. He wasn’t even sure if Yoongi knew he was still following him. He watched as they passed the ship’s gun room. It was more a laser shooter in Kookie’s eyes but he felt the time to bring up the debate of room names was not now. He looks down to his right wrist, red light beeping silently. He continues following Yoongi towards what looks like Navigation Room? Jungkook decides it was best to break off there and head into the oxygen maintenance room, his eyes following the cracking glass plant tank, from there he follows the banged-up pipes all along the walls. He remembers Hoseok saying something about cleaning out the filters here. He looks over his shoulder, hoping Yoongi would have paused and waited for him. No one but darkness greets him. With a shake of his head and shoulders he tries to calm himself down, he disappears deeper into the room in search of a small leaver.

He flicked open his left wrist, opening the small red map on his visor. He wonders if his brother has feasted yet, the idea makes his stomach rumble. He growls jealously at the idea, no, he needs to feed before he becomes unbearable, before he starts slipping up, before he gets caught. He goes for the easiest option, a low grumble of ‘Lights’ sets the mood just the way he likes it. Everyone plunges into darkness. All power gets cut in seconds, flashlights, wall lights, even monitor lights die.

Multiple running footsteps can be heard heading in his direction, he smiles and sticks to the boxes in storage. One set of footsteps are the closest to him, he focuses on the south hallway.

When Jimin comes to he realises he's on the floor, his face clammy and an incessant throbbing inside his head. Slowly he climbs back onto his feet, a shake of his shoulders makes himself feel dizzy, the feeling of vomit coming up his throat makes him turn green. After a few deep breaths Jimin tries to remember what he was doing, lost in thought standing in the even darker hallway. This makes him blink a few times, slowly realisation hits him, the faint blaring of an alarm ringing in his ears. He needs to head to Electrical Bay, hoping he chooses the right direction, he sets off.

Jungkook has never been scared of the dark, not that he can remember that, but he's never been plunged into this type of void before. His hands outstretched in front of him, making sure he won't bump into any walls on his way to see why the power system is failing. He calls out for Yoongi in desperation forgetting that they have no way to communicate with each other. He continues calling out regardless, some messed up way of soothing himself. His shin hits the cafeteria bench, he curses and bends down to rub away the pain. ‘Fucking stupid Kook, why are you even here? You’ve done nothing but make yourself look like an idiot, now you’re walking into shit as well! Fucking useless!’, his internal monologue deafens him from hearing footsteps approaching. The last thing Jungkook saw was sharp white teeth coming straight at him as he stood back up as the lights faded on.

All remaining members were seated at the dinning bench. One by one their visors opened and they quickly saw who was missing. Jungkook and Jin. The vacant seats mocking them.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! WHO THE FUCK KILLED JUNGKOOK? TELL ME NOW YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Yoongi tried to jump from his seat but he struggled against his suit, as if he was glued to his chair. He was losing it, Kookie was right behind him. Right behind HIM. That means the killer was close by. It could have been him. It SHOULD have been him. He was to chicken shit to look out for Jungkook. He’s responsible for the loss of a crewmate. He breaks down, elbows slamming onto the table, black gloved hands flying to his hair and desperately starts pulling at his strands. Tears freely running down his face.

“Yoongi, it wasn’t Jungkook that I saw in there. I... I saw... Fuck... I saw Jin. He was... He was everywhere... I...”, Taehyung’s voice wavers, he’s staring at the table top but his eyes were watching something else entirely. Just blood, so much blood... was everywhere.

“Where TaeTae?”, Jimin wants to reach out towards his friend. Comfort him and clean his mind from the horrors he witnessed.

“Was in security. I didn’t see anything but I was with Taehyung. I had to go to reactor, Tae came with me so I wouldn’t be alone. He went right and I left and... now we’re here.”, Hoseok’s voice sounded lifeless. His skin was pale and ashy, dark rings decorated his eyes and his nose was raw and red.

“Jimin where were you?”, Namjoon’s eyes darts towards the yellow crewmate. Jimin quickly throws his hands in the air. “No, NO! It wasn’t me! Hoseok can confirm I was in storage and I went east towards defences. Hobi please tell them! There’s no way for me to get to security even with using the vents!” Jimin grabs at the sides of the dining table, his entire body shaking with unshed tears. “Hobi please!”

“Namjoon, he’s right. Even if it was... recent or not, there’s no way it could have been him.”, Hobi hangs his head, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake by defending Jimin.

“Where the fuck were you Namjoon? Huh? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU MOTHERFUCKER?!”, Yoongi tries again to lunge over the table but still he was held to his chair. “YOU HAD IT OUT FOR HIM FROM THE GET GO! JUST ADMIT YOU FUCKING KILLED KOOK!” he was seeing red, the veins on his forehead and throat looking as if they will pop any second. “He has a point Namjoon... Where were you? I was in storage on my way to Electrical to check the switchboard and I didn’t see you in there”, Jimin tries to rub away one of the grease stains on his yellow glove, eyes refusing to look up.

“Yeah Joon, Taehyung and myself fixed the lights, you weren’t in Electrical Bay area at all.”, Hoseok’s the one with the pointed glare now.

“Why are you looking at me? I was back in administration, where the fuck were you Yoongi?” Namjoon was bringing up his defences, he puffed out his chest and tightened his hands into fists on top of the dull table. “I was busy in Navigation you fucker, WHY WERE YOU IN ADMIN AGAIN?”, Yoongi’s voice echoed all around them. Creaking of metal could be heard around them. The darkness filled with silence reminding the crewmembers where they were. A jarring reality compared to the screaming that engulfed them mere seconds ago. The scratchy robotic voice on the intercoms greeted them.

“Voting ends in 10 seconds” The faint blaring of an alarm sounds, slowly getting louder as the seconds tick by.

2 seconds was all it took. 2 seconds of making split-second eye contact and the crewmates were voting.

“1 vote Inconclusive”, no one was making eye-contact. Some breathing louder than others. Jimin could swear he heard Hoseok letting out a sob, or was it Taehyung?

“1 vote Yoongi”, Hearing this made him snap in Namjoon’s direction. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER, YOU THINK I WOULD KILL HIM? HUH? FUCK YOU, PRICK! YOU FUCKING MURDERER, FUCKING MONSTER!”, Yoongi was barely keeping himself together, feeling of rage taking over his being, that is till he hears the last casted voting announcement.

“3 vote Namjoon”, Yoongi breaks out in hysterical laughter. HIs voice bouncing back against the broke walls of the cafeteria. “Looks like you’ll be getting what you deserve after all!”

“You guys made a mistake, it’s not me. If you kick me out now, all of you will die. Please think about this, we can still go ba-”, “Like hell we are! Filthy scum trying to fool you all into trusting it!”, Yoongi was finally freed from his suit’s constraints to the bench. “Come on everyone, the votes have spoken.”, He stalks over to Namjoon, showing him to get up and start walking towards the airlock at the top of the cafeteria. Hoseok gets up and joins him in ushering Namjoon off the ship. Taehyung and Jimin remain at the table, refusing to partake.

Yoongi pulls the latch down, the solid metal doors sliding open with a hiss. With no protest Namjoon steps in, back still turned towards them as Yoongi pushes the latch back up. The doors creak and struggle to close, but seal after a few minutes. Hoseok has moved towards the windows looking out into the vacant space way outside. “This is for Jungkook. Rest in Hell.” With as much strength that Yoongi could muster he slammed his fist down on the eject button. His head barely had time to rest on the cold dirty metal of the airlock panel before their helmets started shutting again.

“Namjoon’s gone.” Those are the last words Yoongi heard pass Hoseok’s lips before they were sealed back into their spacesuits, voiceless. Little did Yoongi know he meant that his body disappeared.

Jimin was the last to leave the table this time. He was unsure of himself. Unsure if his crewmates made the right choice. His right arm beeped red, sighing he flicked open his task list. The flashing of the Reactor Room bouncing off his helmet visor. He didn’t even know which direction the rest of them went in. Slowly he got up, heading west. He heard faint footsteps getting louder the closer he got. The hallway was a mess, broken glass crunched under his boots. ‘Where did this even come from?’, His thoughts distracting him, not even noticing the creaking of metal on metal behind him.

Yoongi walks out of Electrical Bay with confidence, just finishing his tasks and not a soul knew he was in there. Deciding he should check out the security cameras and see where everyone was hiding, but before he could take a step towards the west side of the ship the alarms were blaring again. Oxygen was depleting, and fast. ‘Fuck!’, ignoring his original plan he made a dash for the administration room, hoping someone would already be at the top for the second half of the system reset. It was practically impossible to run into Admin. The number of boxes of files thrown everywhere had Yoongi nearly tripping five times just to get to the back of the room. Finally, he was able to get to the keypad, ripping the yellow sticky note off the monitor. He was squinting as much as he possibly could, barely able to make out the numbers. ‘Is that a six or an eight?’, smashing his thumb on the green button he got the code in with four seconds to spare. He didn’t even realise the depleting oxygen was making him dizzy. He stood in Admin for what felt like an hour, just taking deep breaths. “Where in the ever-loving fuck is everyone else?”, he asks this to himself out loud with no answer returned.

Jimin was a broken mess on the floor, not only did he get a fright when the alarm went off, but once he turned around to go towards the emergency, the doors sealed him in security hallway outside reactor. He pounded as much as his body could against the door, eventually cowering against the corner crying for help. He was convinced he was a goner. His eyes refused to look down the long empty and dark hallway. The only sounds around him the ticking timer of the doors, his sobs and the sound of dripping water.

When the alarm stopped screaming in his ears, not soon after the doors opening, Jimin was astonished that he was still alive. Counting his lucky starts he moved towards his final task in reactor. This room had more light than any other room on the ship, making Jimin squint for a few seconds trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness. Jimin stepped in a pool of water, the soft splash making him jump out of his skin. Jumping back, his eyes fall to the floor. But what Jimin sees might scar him for the rest of his life. He saw a red glove next to a red puddle. Jimin bends to pick it up but drops it instantly when he feels there was weight to it. He felts as if he was going to throw up again, his vision going double and he stumbles back, hitting the reactor door frame. “No, please no, not Hobi... Please not Hobi!”, His voice is scratchy to his own ears. His throat raw and painfully hot.

He heard the tapping of something wet hitting the top of his helmet. Slowly he lifted his head. His eyes were greeted with the horribly mangled body of his beloved elder handing from the wires dangling from the ceiling. Jimin not being able to tell the red blood apart from the red on Hoseok’s suit, he let out a deafening painful scream only his ears could hear and flicked his left arm, with panicked fingers he fumbles to press the report button on his suit.

One by one the visors open of the remaining crewmates. Jimin’s the last to open. Taehyung just lifts his hand and points at Jimin. “Yoongi, it was Jimin all along. I saw him, I caught him with Hoseok’s body. HE WAS STILL TRYING TO GET RID OF THE BLOOD ON HIS SUIT!”, Taehyung’s voice slowly raised into hysteria. Yoongi was confused, his head moving from Taehyungs direction and then Jimin’s and then back to Taehyung.

Jimin’s eyes widening, seeing how Taehyung could have seen this as a misunderstanding. “No! NO, IT WASN’T ME! Tae please you don’t understand what you saw! I found Hobi’s body there, I was freaking out BECAUSE HE WAS LITRALLY ON TOP OF ME IN THE CEILING! I wasn’t cleaning blood off of me I was trying to press my report button! Please this is just a huge misunderstanding, Yoongi, you believe me, right? Right?!”, Jimin’s eyes brimmed with tears, his words stumbling as he’s trying not to cry himself into hysterics while trying to plead for his life.

“Jimin... How... How could you?” Yoongi was speechless. It all made sense now. It was never Namjoon that killed Jungkook, it was Jimin. How did he not figure this out? He’s been quiet in every meeting. Used Taehyung as an alibi. He was in defences when he and Jungkook went to Navigation. Lights were killed and he could have easily offed Kookie behind his back. And now, Jimin wasn’t stopping the oxygen depletion because he was busy feasting on Hoseok’s body.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes?”

“Where were you this whole time?”

“I was busy in Weapons. Oxygen emergency popped up and I walked down to Oxygen Room and typed in the reset keycode.”

“And before that?”

“I saw Hoseok leaving cafeteria towards the west. You left south. Jimin stayed in cafeteria for a while, I stayed with him, but after a few minutes I decided to go do my last task so I left east towards weapons.”

Yoongi sat there for a long while, the digital timer in front of him placing pressure on him.

“Jimin?”

“Y-yes?...”

“Can you confirm anything Taehyung just said?”

“I-I can’t remember... Honestly I can’t! I left cafeteria going west, I didn’t see anyone passing me on the way back. As soon as I got into Security Hallway, all the doors shut on me. I went and hid! I thought I was going to die!”, Jimin was a blubbering mess at this point, he couldn’t see clearly, he could smell the blood on his suit drying.

“I’m not convinced... Die with the rest of your kind, monster. Your fake tears won’t work on me any longer!”

“NO WAIT!”, Jimin’s last plea fell on deaf ears. Taehyung and Yoongi placed their votes and Jimin had no other choice but to place his as well. The scratchy robotic voice lulled to life over the intercoms.

“1 vote Taehyung”, Taehyungs eyes widen at this, his eyes quickly darting between Jimin and Yoongi in panic.

“2 vote Jimin”, and at hearing his final fate Jimin wails. He screams and cries as loud as he could. Yoongi could feel the release on their suits from the bench and proceeded to walk towards the airlock. He pulled the latch down, the sealed doors opening with a creek and groan. Jimin refused to get up from his seat, holding on to the table as tightly as he could. He will make one last fight for his life.

Taehyung huffs at him. “You traitor. Hoseok trusted you. I trusted you. Every single one of us trusted you. How many did you kill while my back was turned to you? Huh?” Taehyung’s words cut through him like a knife, each lashing with his tongue made Jimin’s heart bleed. “Please Tae, please, please, please, it wasn’t me. What you saw was a misunderstanding! PLEASE YOU MUST BELIEVE ME, DON’T DO THIS!”, Taehyung walked up to Jimin and hooked his arms in under his armpits. He dragged the kicking and screaming man to the airlock. Yoongi was watching all of this unfold. His eyes never leaving Jimin, hoping that his disappointed face would burn into his mind. Taehyung threw Jimin on the ground in the middle of the airlock as if he weighed nothing. There Jimin stayed on his knees, elbows on the ground hunched in on himself, quietly sobbing.

Taehyung nodded in Yoongi’s direction, signalling him to do it. Without thinking twice, Yoongi pushes the latch up, waiting for the old doors to seal back up. The last words Yoongi hears from Jimin are, ‘It wasn’t me I swear’. He pauses, his finger just above the eject button. “Yoongi, do it. Do it so we can go home.”, Taehyung’s voice sounds stern, Yoongi follows through. He joins Taehyung by the window to watch Jimin disappear into space.

The first thing Jimin feels is cold. Extremely cold. He feels nothing at the same time, just his body floating in nothing. He tries to hold his breath for as long as he possibly can. As his body twists and turns away from the ship, his sight quickly fading, the last thing Jimin witnessing is Yoongi’s body against the window. Soon followed by a large splatter of blood and his lifeless body falling to the floor of the cafeteria. Jimin closes his eyes in a final goodbye, a single frozen tear stuck to his cheek as the void swallows him whole.

[thesolitarystripe]

Any World of Warcraft Fans?

This is a scene I have been sitting on for, forever. Well, since last expansion. I write a lot of lore about my guild and original character in the game World of Warcraft. While I do not own any of Blizzard Entertainment’s characters or anything else in the world of Azeroth, Tindyl’s story is absolutely my own. If anyone was curious, I dreamt up this scene while listening to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7kF4MXXCoA

There is also a second part to this scene that came to mind later on and over a different song so I may write that up next, or at some point. Anyway, this was fun. It’s nice to get away from the writing prompts every once in a while and write something else. If people enjoy the Tindyl series, I have a lot of content written about her that I would be happy to share and elaborate on. Most of these characters have been written about and introduced in all the previous writings I’ve made but they are all based on actual raiders in my guild. Some are still here and some are not. If they weren’t given a name within the story, it is safe to assume they are no longer in my life but they included in the story because sometimes side characters don’t stick around forever. 

If you’re a WoW nerd too, let me know!

Let go.

That insidious voice. It spoke, it wouldn’t stop speaking.

Such a heavy burden you carry. Soon you will be free of it.

Tindyl blinked wildly, as if the words were made of acid, blistering her eyes and eyes as shadows clouded her horizon. Where was she? The voices of her allies seemed so far away. “Tindyl!” That was…who? The archdruid settled her hand against her forehead, knee coming down to the fleshy ground stained a sickening purple with hues of crimson pustules and jagged openings like wounds etched inside flesh. Ny’alotha. The Waking City. Wasn’t that where she was? Tindyl looked at the ground but saw only grass; her hand pressed flat against the blades that were no longer the emerald green of her childhood but black and charred. Swiftly, her head shot up and her skin was painted in streaks of orange. Fire. So much fire. Teldrassil! Tindyl was off her knees and running, the screams of her kin drowning out the whispering that sucked her deeper into madness. The Kaldorei leapt over a fallen branch, the limb blazing upon what was once scared ground. Their home. Two feet turned into four, claws printing in deep against the soot covered ground as the long feline body surged forward.

“An’da!” Tindyl was running toward the fleeting shadow of a male night elf. The large figure shapeshifted from elf to bear. Her father, it had to be. She could see him in the distance, tossing others over his hulking shoulders and carrying them out of the flames that engulfed their home. The smoke was suffocating, she choked on its thick plumes but didn’t dare slow her pace as she ran after her father—she had not seen him in…She had not seen him since Teldrassil fell. Tindyl stopped, body transfiguring again until she was whole and back upon two legs. A night elf. “An’da,” her voice was softer, weary eyes following the shade of her father who never looked back. She had lost him already. This was not reality.

All alone in the depths…

That voice. Tindyl covered her ears, grit her teeth and shook her head, eyes falling closed against the deceit spread before her. These visions were not her own, her father was already dead.

“Tindyl!” The night elf opened her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. The world had returned, her present moment. The images of Teldrassil, the fallen, the smoke and blood, vanished. She knew that voice. Tindyl turned her head and saw her dearest friend, the pandaren’s hand was outstretched as if the physical contact would solidify her friend in time and space. They just needed to touch. All around them the eyes of The Corruptor sprouted out of the ground, shrieking and hideous. Tindyl’s eyes swept the battlefield, taking account of her people and those that still stood. Her guild fought bravely, fighting against their own demons surely as N’zoth infiltrated the quiet corners of their minds. She turned to Kagurah, took a single step before she staggered backward in the face of an enraged ally. Their paladin. He had succumbed to the madness.

“Highlord,” Tindyl held out a hand, but the man was charging toward her with sword drawn. “Forgive me,” she whispered as her hands pushed forward and the winds of their natural word rushed out from her fingertips. The gust knocked the paladin back but only stalled him. Kagurah summoned a totem, seeing the change in their once trusted ally who now sought to see their leader’s blood. Before the totem’s effect could stop the human, a great hammer brimming with light struck Tindyl and brought her, stunned, to her knees.

“Tindyl!” Tindyl knew that voice, even in her weakened state where her limbs would not obey her mind. Her warrior. Eyes flickered over and caught the fading vision of her lover, his black hair whipping around his face as he thrust his sword up and into one of the looming eyes; his shield was held up to block a counter assault as he looked over his shoulder just in time to watch the hammer drop and strike down the Archdruid. Tindyl wished she could have comforted him. The look of worry on his face made her heart sink. That was her last thought as she flopped backward, lying upon the ground where the paladin had stunned her. Everything grew dim, the edges of her vision blurred. There was a vague recognition of Kagurah’s magic swirling about her in attempt to heal but Tindyl was sinking, being swallowed up by the darkness. It was quiet, almost…comforting.

“Tindyl.” A new voice. No, an old voice. “Tindyl.” How much time had passed between Tindyl’s body thumping against the ground to the moment her eyes peeled open, she couldn’t say but when she opened them and the haze began to clear away, she looked up at the ethereal form of her father.

“An’da?” Her voice croaked as if it had been unused for centuries. Her father’s arms slipped beneath hers, seeming to lift her up.

“On your feet,” he commanded gently, his face more tender than Tindyl ever remembered seeing it before. There was so much left unsaid between them after she had chosen to join the Alliance. Bai’len, the Guardian druid set like thick roots in his old ways—he disagreed with her choice and more so, hated her pursuance of healing magics. Tindyl’s lips parted as if to speak but all she could manage was to stare at him, eyes glittering even in the dank lighting of the old god’s lair. “Do you not remember who you are? Where you’ve come from? Your people are with you now.” As her father spoke, Tindyl looked away only for a moment and felt more sets of hands pressing her spine upward, setting her on her feet. She saw the ghostly white fingers that held her up in tandem with the strong arms of her father.

“An’da, I’m sorry.” Tindyl wept silently, tears cascading down her cheeks as the light within her faded.

“My child,” Bai’len’s rough fingers curled around Tindyl’s jaw, dwarfing her. “Stand firm in who you are. Feel the strength of your ancestors restore you. Remember who you are and who you were meant to be, hm?” Tindyl’s brow furrowed as her father looked out to where her allies still fought, even in the wake of her loss. They were covered in blood, some brought to their knees as weapons were knocked from their grasp. N’zoth was slithering into their minds, exposing their grief over the fallen Kaldorei and sinking into their souls. “Save them.” Bai’len looked at Tindyl. “Elune makes no mistakes,” his hand shifted from her jaw to the plump curve of her cheek. “Heal them.” The permission to use her gifts from her father. It was like a door had opened within her heart. Tindyl’s arms flew up above her, eyes searching for the light that beamed down upon her like Elune herself reached down her moonlit tendrils and washed away the corruption from her favored druid’s mind. The peaceful rains of Tranquility fell over their party. Hibikami, once brought to his knee felt the renewal of his ferocity, scraped up his axe and heaved it in one mighty blow. The weapon sliced through the air and planted within the sclera of one of N’zoth’s eyes. The creature wailed and fell. The dwarf laughed, sprinted forward to collect his weapon only to chop down another crying stalk. Kagurah looked to where Tindyl’s body had rested when she felt the rain, it could have only come from their Archdruid.

All the while, Bai’len held his daughter, smiling. Tindyl’s eyes had left the spotlight that Elune shined down upon her, glued now to her father’s face. She wanted to stay in the moment for the rest of her long life. Bai’len looked down at her and their eyes met. They regarded one another for several moments before Tindyl was snatched out of her father’s arms. The druid yelped softly, tumbling across the floor and into the torso of their human priest. A life grip.

“Tindyl, are you alright?” The human was touching her shoulder, but the moment Tindyl righted herself and crawled back on her knees she was looking back toward where her father had held her. Where she’d felt the embrace of her people holding her up. They were all gone. Breath came in short, rapid puffs as she held her gaze longer, hopeful that Bai’len would return. It was nothing more than a fleeting vision sent to her by Elune, perhaps. “Archdruid!”

“I’m fine,” she said suddenly, coming to her senses and feeling the weight of her responsibility. While she grieved upon the ground her guild still fought. A quick swipe at her eyes and she was nodding. “I’m fine,” she said again as she rose to her feet. The priest stood with her; hands latched on to Tindyl’s arm. There was a lull in the fight. Everyone paused and looked to her both with relief and concern. They were taxed. Exceedingly tired. “My friends,” she panted softly, seeing the despair in their eyes. Tindyl shook her head, “do not succumb to the darkness, drown out the whispers of N’zoth. Stand firm in who you are.” The words of her father echoed within the grotesque halls, and she felt emboldened. “Do not forget why you are here, why we fight.” Tindyl bared her canines, “For Azeroth!” A rally of cries reverberated the air, sending a new pulsing energy through their party. Tindyl’s body conformed to the four-legged feline once more, she leapt through the air, claws sinking in to a newly sprouted eye. It shrieked as her fangs sunk into its bulbous head, it bled and wilted to the ground. The cat sprinted alongside Kagurah, rubbing along the Pandaren’s hip once as they exchanged a look. ‘Don’t die on me again.’ Tindyl could hear it now. The cat grinned, a growl wrapped around it before the two dove back into battle.

Back-to-back they fought. Wisps of water flowed up and out as Kagurah spread her healing rain and the leaves of Tindyl’s magic swirled around her allies, mending their wounds. Their third healer, the priest, joined them a glittering ring formed around him and pulsed outward to strengthen and heal their allies. Together, they would save their home. For the Alliance, for the horde, and for all the lives lost throughout the trials of both sides.

[toallthemonstersiveloved]

Match Made in Tavern - Chapter 1

Ladies and gentlemen, it is finally here! The first chapter of my Goliath fiction. First of all, I just want to say that this is loosely based off a Dungeons and Dragons campaign that I played so some of the lore and setting will be referencing that campaign but you don’t need to know anything about the game to understand the story. Also, I didn’t use a beta reader for this so if anyone would like to be my beta reader, please let me know! 

Otherwise please enjoy!

Warnings: Strong Language, implied sex, nsfw in later chapters

2 743 words.

There’s nothing like having to serenade an ancient banshee to terrify one out of their own skin. Lolen was that person currently in the predicament. The act of having to impress a vain, wailing spirit - impressing the cry of death, to put it poetically - was one of the most nerve wracking experiences she has ever faced as an adventuring bard. She was more than happy to have escaped with her life and the lives of her party intact.  

The group was now entering the town and were greeted with the merry atmosphere of a travelling festival. Phandalin could use the cheer, considering the amount of problems the party were hired to address. 

 Lolen was beaming at the thought of ale and some fun of her own. She shuddered at the thought of their most recent escapade and decided that she would need to get considerably drunker to get rid of the memories of the ghostly presence that she needed to persuade. 

 Skai seemed equally as happy about the arrival of the festival and was already running towards the tavern. Lolen picked up the pace and followed hastily after the excited wizard. Upon entry Lolen absorbed the loud voices of the establishment and the music from a bard on the small stage. Skai was already at the bar, greeting the dwarven owner. 

 “What festivities are there to look forward to today?” Skai asked, smiling from ear to ear.  

The barkeep was filling some tankards for someone else at the bar, “I don’t know about outside, miss, but in here we got some wagering going on. Seeing who can out-drink who. Quite the time if you got coin.” 

 Lolen huffed as she listened, hoping her high elf companion wasn’t going to blow all her money on some of the drunken patrons in here. 

 “My friend and I would like to drink against each other.” This is much worse. 

 “Come on, Skai. You know this is a bad idea.” Lolen tried to warn. 

 “Nonsense, this will be fun!” Skai got a mischievous glint in her eyes before adding, “Why? You afraid you’ll lose?”  

That flipped something in Lolen’s mind. “How much are we wagering?”  Skai grinned and placed a gold piece on the bar, the barkeep eyeing it greedily. Lolen gave a curt nod and fished out a gold coin to place on top of Skai’s. The stout man then stuffed the coins in his pocket and began filling up two tankards for the ladies.

  “We have a serious quest tomorrow. You sure you still want to do this?” Lolen asked. She knew Skai would say yes, but at least asking her freed Lolen of any guilt with the hangover sure to make itself home in her friends head.

  “Of course! This is going to be great, and besides I’ll be right as rain in the morning.” Lolen wasn’t sure about that. She took her tankard and went to sit at a table near a small window. The sun was setting, gracing the sky with a golden glow. As Lolen peered out the window, the barkeep stoop atop another table calling for everyone’s attention. 

 “Alright! We’ve got some new players at the table. Who’s gonna bet on these lovely lasses?” he allowed the cheers to engulf the room. He then pointed to Skai. “Who’s gonna place their money on the ethereal beauty?” Skai took a bow as she heard a few of the patrons cheer for her. The dwarf  began collecting the coin that was being passed his way. 

 “Next!” He pointed to Lolen, “Who thinks the soldier looking lass is going to win?” There wasn’t any noise unlike there had been for her companion. Lolen smirked. She expected this and was glad she wouldn’t have to split her winnings. 

 “I’ll bet on her.” 

 Lolen turned to the voice that raised itself above the murmurs of the crowd. He was a goliath. They were rare this far from the mountains and he was the first one she had seen. He locked eyes with her and gave her a curt nod. She did the same in return and turned to face Skai and the barkeep with a sly smile. 

 “Right then.” The barkeep cleared his throat, “Let the drinking begin!”  He jumped off the table as Lolen and Skai took their seats, drinks in hand. They were both smiling. Skai from her overconfidence and Lolen… from the knowledge that the poor woman had never had a drink in her life. 

 And so the drinks poured. Lolen was ahead of Skai by 3 tankards, showing no mercy. There were raucous cheers filling the room as Lolen gulped down the last bit of her drink. Skai was breathlessly drinking whatever she could but her belly was full and she didn’t think she could continue pouring ale down her throat. 

Skai looked over Lolen, flabbergasted that her friend was downing yet another helping of bitter ale. At that Skai slammed her cup against the table. 

 “I give up!”  There were some grumbling from the crowd, disappointed that their wager had not paid off. The atmosphere remained lively and jovial despite the sore loss of the crowd. They all dispersed, Lolen receiving a few pats on the back from other patrons. She looked at the wizard, who was lying face-down on her arms. Lolen stood and bagan rubbing her back in circles, hoping to comfort and help her companion.

  “Are you okay, princess?”

  “I’m not a princess.” Skai mumbled.  

“Okay, come on” Lolen lifted her up and began dragging her toward the staircase of the tavern. Skai was limp in her arms, which left Lolen carrying a lot of her weight. Once they had finally made it up the stairs, Lolen found an empty room and placed her friend on the bed. She took off her boots and placed a chamber pot nearby, in case Skai felt the need to empty her stomach. For now though, she was passed out and snoring quite peacefully.

 Lolen went back to the bar and found the tavern owner. She handed him some coin, “My friend is sleeping in one of the rooms uptairs.”

 “No worries lass.” He said as he pocketed the few coins. He then reached behind the bar and placed a pouch in front of her. “Your winnings.” 

 Lolen nodded in thanks and grabbed the pouch, tying it to a belt under her coat. She then spotted the who had bet on her. He was still drinking alone, indifferent towards the rest of the crowded room. 

 She may have been able to outdrink her dear friend, but that didn’t mean she was left completely unaffected by the alcohol. So she ordered more ale, grasping her cup and walking toward the gray man. He didn’t pay her any mind until she sat down at his table. 

 He eyed the elf suspiciously. Their kinds often did not get along so seeing her sit down with him as casually as she did surprised him. 

“I just wanted to say thank you for betting on me. It would’ve been quite boring if I was the only one to win.” She stated with a friendly smile. 

 “Not a problem miss.” Maybe if he was polite she’d leave. 

“I’m Lolen. No need for any of that ‘miss’ business.” She took a sip of her ale, expecting him to return with his name. He didn’t.

  “And what may I call you, sir?” 

 “Gorg.” 

He answered simply. Still hoping that she would leave and that whole interaction would end soon.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gorg.” She paused to take a swig of her ale, “So why’d you bet on me and not my friend.” 

 “You look strong and sturdy. You’re friend looked more delicate.” 

 Lolen let out a chuckle, catching the man by surprise. It was simply the truth. 

 “Well, you’re completely right of course. Everyone else saw her sweet face and thought they’d be able to bed her. Turns out the only bed mate she’ll be having tonight is nausea.” She giggled a bit at her own joke.  

Gorg smiled at that, taking note of how this elf was treating him. He hadn’t met many, but the ones that he had met steered clear of him. He knew why his people disliked elves but he wasn’t yet sure of the reasoning for the opposite side of things. He was taking in more of her now, noticing her twirling her white hair around her darker finger. She was wearing studded armor but also some more stylish pieces of clothing. She was a bit odd, which was probably why she was being so impartial toward him.

  “You look different from other elves I’ve seen.” He stated.

  “Yes well in this area, there are a lot of high elves about. I’m a wood elf.” She answered matter of factly.

  The man nodded and Lolen took a moment to examine him a bit more closely. He was quite handsome and he was clearly very strong. The man only had a few pieces of armor covering his torso leaving little to the imagination. He was also covered in skin markings from head to toe that was a darker shade of gray than the rest of his skin. 

 She quickly cleared her throat and her mind, trying to go back to focusing on the conversation. “So what brings you so far from home, Gorg?” 

 He shrugged, “Just looking for some adventure, I guess.”

 “And have you found any?” 

 He crossed his arms on the table.

 “A little bit here and there, but nothing worth tales told by the bards.” 

 “Is that so?” She asked with a smile playing on her lips, “Well, you’re in luck. I just so happen to be a bard myself so I think I’ll be making the decision of whether your tales are worth telling.” 

 He was smiling a bit more, a bit more enthused by their conversation. “Really? You don’t look like a bard.” 

Lolen playfully gasped, “And why not?” 

 “Well, you look more like a fighter or soldier of some kind. You don’t look as dainty as other bards I’ve seen.” 

 “That’s just because I am much more skilled in combat.” She answered, throwing a few punches in the air. “I used to be a soldier after all.”

  “So why’d you become a bard?” He searched her green eyes for the answer.

 “I got tired of it, I guess.” she ran her hand through her hair, “The world of constant fighting is not as fun as it may seem.” 

 “So you moved on from that and decided to go into music instead?” 

 “Is that so hard to believe?” She scoffed. 

“No, just a rather large jump.” He commented.  

“It is.” She stated, taking a large gulp of her drink.

  Lolen was looking at him again. His face seemed kinder and softer then, and she noticed his blue-gray eyes. They looked like rain clouds. She was very comfortable in his company and was beginning to hope she could continue to speak to him for the rest of the evening. Her slightly dazed state may have had something to do with this as she had finished off her ale.

  Lolen had suddenly sat upright with wide, excited eyes. “I just had an amazing idea! You should come with us on our next quest!” 

Gorg was surprised by her invitation, “Why?” 

 “You’re seeking adventure right? My party has been on quite the adventure so far, plus you’ll have your resident bard to sing your praises whenever the opportunity presents itself.” She shimmied her shoulders at that, displaying her pride. 

 Gorg remained silent, furrowing his brows. 

 “Plus,” he heard from the woman, who was now looking into his eyes quite intently, “it would be nice to have you around.”  

He felt something in his chest then. A thump that hit out of it’s regular rhythm. He saw the contrast of her hair against her skin and her genuine smile, taking note of how unique it was. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d define it as beautiful. It was certainly alluring but he’d need time to decide on her beauty. Her offer was equally alluring as she was. He would be able to join an adventuring party and they may even become legend due to her being a bard. He thought of all the possible challenges that lie ahead and how he could improve himself through this experience. He looked into her green eyes, also thinking of how he could impress the lady before him, who was not only a good sport in competition but also friendly and kind.

  “I think it’s a good idea.” He concluded. 

 She beamed at his decisions, possibly a bit too much for a stranger. Lolen couldn’t help but be giddy at having this large and lovely man around all the time. She was sure he’d be a great asset to the team as well as a pleasant change of company. 

 “Wonderful! I will inform my friends in the morning, for now let’s celebrate!” She hopped over to the bar and grabbed two more tankards of ale. Gorg heard her yell, “and keep them coming!” to the barkeep with a bout of laughter at the end before sitting back down.

  She placed his drink in front of him and lifted her cup in a toast. He raised his as well, noticing that she was still smiling.  

“To adventure.” she said and clinked her cup against his, beginning to drink again. He was drinking but not just the ale. He was also swallowing her energy and joy, among other things. 

 The night would certainly be one to remember.    

    Rays of sunlight was cast over Lolen’s face. She squinted at the light, feeling it split her skull. Her tongue was sticking to her palette and her body felt like she was in some kind of massive brawl the night before. She currently had no memories and was too busy trying to fight the sun with her eyelids to care. She rolled over in an attempt to escape the sun.  What kind of Inn keeps stones in the beds? She thought, as her body connected with something hard…and warm. Why were the stones warm? Lolen squinted see what the source of her discomfort was. Her eyes widened as the realization hit her and she bolted to the edge of the bed. 

 Her eyes were roaming across a gray-skinned figure. Armor on the floor. Under the blanket? No clothes. She pulled the blanket over her head and squirmed letting out a frustrated groan. She had slept with Gorg. Of fucking course! She felt the body shift next to her, and peaked her head over the blankets edge.

  “Good morning” He said with a satisfied smile on his drowsy face.  She covered her face again with another groan. At this point she wasn’t even upset that it had happened. Seeing his face again just made her so disappointed that she forgot it.  

[pseudospectre]

Had a conversation recently with some friends about how stories with a heaven/hell dynamic love the idea of fallen angels, but I’ve never seen anything that goes the opposite direction. So I wrote one.  It’s been a long long time since I’ve written anything so please forgive the quality, it was just a quick bit of fun. :)

Rise

I fell for a reason. I burned for a reason. I remember so little of my previous life, so many years, even centuries ago, but I remember that much.  I have no tragic story of innocence betrayed or manipulated, no heart-wrenching tale of self-sacrifice or loss. I was just, as they say, a bastard. That’s all I can tell you, all that survived the fire, so to speak.

They’ll tell you, gleefully, about the hopelessness, when your soul arrives after judgment and they offer you a position. This is all there is left, they say. You are lost, you are evil, this is all you deserve for eternity. Most damned souls don’t truly understand, in my experience. Everyone believes, to some degree, that they were at least all right, in the end. And they fight the idea of damnation and punishment, think somehow that resisting the new temptation and heading to their torment is somehow going to prove that, or help. As if they can weasel out, eventually, if they aren’t contracted. It always seemed remarkably shortsighted; of course you can’t. I already enjoyed the cruelty, I knew what it meant, so the opportunity to spare myself the pain in return for causing it? Well, what is a demon if not selfish? I was fine with the requirements, already there and unsaveable, it’s not like it can be worse? You can either suffer or be a part of the system, and I made a damn good demon. A little hell humor. And that’s supposed to be all there was, the end, fin.

Turns out, they don’t quite give you all of the information

What you need to understand is that there’s a lot of misinformation out there about how all this is set up. Most beliefs have some concept of punishment or reward, but strictly speaking, we’re not really associated with any one in particular. Funnily enough, it has more to do with your social beliefs than whether or not there’s a god. Nobody gives a fuck who’s name you take in vain, for example; it’s all about balance. And there are absolutely folks that fill the roles of what you’d call god or the devil, make no mistake. The cultures that talk about weighing souls have that part the closest, although it’s a hell of a lot more complicated than that, ha. Not that I cared at the time, but actions, with very few exceptions, cannot be good or bad in and of themselves. Something you do nice for someone could in fact have a negative result for someone else down the line, unintentionally or unknowingly. All of that has to be carefully picked apart and scrutinized to truly reach a conclusion, and I’ve even seen a net “loss” overall be rewarded and net gains get descended, based on factors even I don’t understand. Wasn’t my job; I didn’t judge, I just turned the screws on the ones they sent me. But as with any large-scale operation, it’s not infallible. I know it seems like it ought to be, but here we are. Hell, here I am. The thing is, it’s a lot easier to correct an accidental reward than an accidental punishment, because everyone down there wails their innocence. No one believes them, of course, they all think that. There’s no point in following up, usually. Mostly, souls I worked on were one of two things: screamers (self explanatory) or talkers. Talkers are the ones who still think they can wheedle their way out, or want to share their life story again, hoping they can find a loophole or something to get them out. Some of those souls had been there longer than I had, sometimes; pitiful. Didn’t matter to me, I was having a gre- well, it was a time. And then I was passed a recent acquisition for punishment; not that uncommon, although by then I usually mostly had the old-timers who needed the skills of someone who really knew their stuff. But this soul? 

Completely silent.

Really. Didn’t make a sound. Threw me for a huge loop, centuries as a literal nightmare and suddenly, no begging, no crying, nothing. Not even if I taunted, not even when I got started. And in that moment, it became the worst day of my afterlife-me, a piece of shit human voluntarily gone horrifying demon. Because I felt something. First mistake. If I’d stopped there things might have gone on without changing, but I was never what you might have called smart. Average is probably being generous. But I was so bowled over by that little spark of whatever it was-I couldn’t even recognize that it was an emotion, isn’t that sad?- that I made my next mistake: I asked why. Turned out I’d been handed my first actual misjudgment, this poor thing never protested a single action since they got here, never once defended themselves. They’d convinced themselves in life so completely that this is what they would deserve, that they just didn’t have any desire to try to fight it. I asked what they’d been judged for, and they just looked at me, and said they were ready. But when I pushed (at that point I was panicking over whatever was happening in my brain and figured I could count more questions as emotional manipulation or baiting or something) they didn’t list a single thing I had ever heard of stacking up to damnation. Someone at the gates really fucked up, in other words. Someone came in shortly after that and whisked them off, everyone had a good laugh over it for weeks after, jeering and asking me how much I got to put them through before they got picked back up. It should have been easy to join in- before this I would have been in the center of the mockery, but something was wrong, that flare was still inside me and I was having trouble handling it. You ever have a secret and you’re just sure everyone knows what it is just by looking at you? It was like that. And eventually I figured out that’s all it was, just a little bitty emotion, but that almost made it worse because it wasn’t supposed to be there; from what I even knew how all this demon shit worked in the first place, I was pretty sure it wasn’t even possible! But all I had to do to go back to my routine was ignore it, suppress it, reject it. Easy peasy, I’m a goddamn senior demon.

Except, to my shame, I couldn’t let it go. Does that even make sense, a demon feeling shame? Pretty sure that’s what it was at that point. But it was like having a little secret treasure that no one else could see. I would hide it, and then in little moments alone or whatever, bring it out and feel. I didn’t have the context anymore at the time, but now I can compare it to having lived in the dark and suddenly feeling a moment of sun. I had felt sorry for the soul, for just a moment! And the thing about emotions, they can grow the more you think about them. And I started thinking about it a lot. And then I started feeling happy (the horror!) that the mistake was caught and they got to leave. In case it’s unclear, feeling stuff like that for non hell-related reasons makes it pretty hard to do demony things. And if you remember, I’d never felt a whole lot of that kind of thing even before I got here. I literally tortured the souls of the damned, how do you do that when you start feeling sorry for them? But that little crack of light inside me, the shard of humanity, started bring back memories, or at least concepts, from when that’s all I was, and I suddenly started recognizing them as lost. And it hurt? And for the first time, I was mourning. After all, damned is forever. A demon is forever. So I was some weird fluke who caught some feels somehow, it couldn’t change that. But, you know, when your work starts to suffer, people start to notice. They started to talk. And they were right, my game was slipping hard. I felt bad! After a while I couldn’t just not say anything to the ones who just barely tipped the scales! As secretly as I could, I was giving them comfort. And I had to defend myself from my superiors over stuff I couldn’t stomach anymore but had to keep up with, or risk getting kicked back down. The wildest part was, my first thought about losing status wasn’t to save my own skin, of course not….now I was thinking about what the folks I got to talk to would do without those brief moments of respite I’d been passing out.

Point is, I was a demon who didn’t want to be a demon anymore, after centuries of not giving a fuck, and knowing full well that I was solidly fucked and that this was only going to get worse. I was miserable, but I still couldn’t put away the way the tiniest good feelings and I hoarded my experiences like someone who’s drowning clings to a raft. Except this raft was ruining my afterlife, and I didn’t really care for some reason. But I wanted to do my best, and not in the way I was used to. I had no idea what was going to happen but it probably was never going to get better.

But then, the crossroads.

Not the regular demony kind of crossroads. Oh no, I got stuck with the moral kind, although I didn’t realize what it was going to mean at the time. It had gotten bad enough for me that I was back to working under supervision, just like old times, the bad ones from when demons are just getting started. It was hard to do much that way but I’d figured out that even just smiling helps some people apparently? Or at least, once I first figured out how to smile so that they knew it wasn’t a threat. You ever seen a demon? I was not precisely what most people would prefer to look at with any expression. But it was already a hell of a day (more jokes!) and I was apparently near a limit I wasn’t aware of, and we got assigned a new soul. A new soul who didn’t say a word, just like where all of this began. And my supervison grinned at me, and snarled, and raised an arm, and I didn’t even have time to register that I had stepped between them to take the blow. Cheesy, I know. But there was a sound like one of those big industrial light switches snapping off, and it felt like time stopped or something. Maybe it did, I’m still not sure. But the literal, actual judges showed up. I was relieved someone got there so fast before anything else happened, I hadn’t even thought about what was going to happen to me yet. Proof positive I was completely broken by then, hadn’t even thought about my own skin yet. A couple of the judges took the soul away, and I waited for my bosses to show, but the judge still standing there was just watching me. After a moment, they said “Are you coming, or not?”

What.

I don’t think I was processing yet, but I think that’s probably all I actually said. So they gave me a look like you give to the dumbest guy in the room (I’m familiar with it) and said “Are. You coming? You have work to do. Unless you really think you’d prefer to stay?”

“Coming to what? You already picked up the error, it’s not me. Why would they let me leave, anyway? Not that I’m in a hurry to get my asskicking for this.”

There’s that look again. “Then don’t stay for it, they have no claim at the moment. Your balance tipped. Your call, stay, or take your out and rise.”

First time I’d ever heard that word. “……Rise?”

“Yes, rise. I suppose they wouldn’t want it to be common knowledge around here; then again, it means the few cases we get tend to be pretty solidly legitimate. Angels can fall, after all….why couldn’t a demon rise?”

“Sorry, got brimstone in my ears or something, are you telling me, of all creatures, that I’m heading upwards?” I definitely laughed. Demon laughter is very unpleasant. Recognizing this when you’re the one laughing is not fun.

“Something like that. As I said, your call. If you still prefer all of this for eternity, by all means, stick around.”

And that’s how I found out risen demons are a thing.

It’s not easy, no longer being of hell but not being of heaven, but it’s probably easier than you might expect. People think about heaven and hell in terms of punishment and reward, and while this is mostly true, like I said before, it’s really more about balance. The slate’s not wiped clean, but it’s not like I have some impossible restrictive rules that set me up to fail, it’s not like one tiny slip will shoot me back to the inferno, but I have bosses who check in now and then, keep tabs. And they’re here to help me, I’m not just stranded to make my own way. I’m not human, but I’m probably closer to that than I am to angel or demon anymore. And I gotta say, I look a whole lot better. I still put most people off at first, at least a little, but I’m way less spiky and you know. Fewer teeth, fewer arms, that kind of thing. But I guess you could say I’m doing pretty well now, dragging my way back to something I’m not sure I ever was, to be honest. I’m grateful for the chance.

And I’m looking forward to seeing who I can drag along with me, and that part feels pretty good.

[mhdiaries]

Journal of Clawd Wolf

If you can’t be honorable then be smart and keep your snout out of my journal.

September the 18th

I don’t think I’ve ever been hit in a game as hard as I got hit last night and oh monster was I sore this morning. We won the game which makes the pain a little more bearable. The worst part was I saw the hit coming and had to stand there and take it. The play was 13 Weak Bootleg Goblin - I made a perfect fake and rolled right which fooled everybody on the defense except the ogre playing outside linebacker who hit me as soon as the pass left my hand. Not only did he hit me, he drove me into the turf and landed on top of me. The only thing worse than the hit was the ogre stink that came with it. When I say stink I mean he smelled like the inside of a rubber boot filed with stinky cheese and raw fish that had been left in the trunk of a black car during the hottest week of summer. I’m sure I probably notice it more being a werewolf because of my enhanced sense of smell but I honestly think ogres must turn up their scent glands for games. I couldn’t even see how the play turned out because he’s laying on top of me yelling “How’d you like that wolf boy?” Then I hear the crowd going crazy and I just said, “Scoreboard.” Funny how the pain goes away, at least momentarily, when you complete a big play. Of course on the field you never want to let another monster know they hurt you... just like real life.

September the 21st

Rockseena chewed up a pair of Clawdeen’s shoes. Clawdeen accused Howleen, in Clawdeen’s defense it did kind of look like Howleen’s work, and I had to break up the fight and fork over some cash so Clawdeen could replace them. There goes my money for the month. Why are girl’s shoes so howling expensive?

October the 1st

I went to the furmatologist to see if he could do something about my shedding problem, which seems to be getting worse lately. It’s so screeching embarrassing I don’t even want to wear short sleeve shirts any more. Of course being a werewolf means it grows back as fast as it falls out so I’ve got an endless supply. I’m like a hairy snow globe. Anyway, I wish I could say that I walked away with a solution, cream, pill or heroic quest that would allow me to finally leave the house without a lint brush but that didn’t happen. The doctor said that some werewolves are genetically afflicted with this and that there is no cure. He gave me some ideas on how to manage the condition and a pamphlet about a support group. I was like, “A support group?” Come on monster, give me a break. The last thing i want to do is spend an evening hanging out in some back room at a community center listening to other werewolves howl about fur loss. I’ve just got to monster up and deal with it. What i wouldn’t give to switch problems with Clawdeen.

October the 7th

Somebody at Monster High is trying to reopen old tombs regarding Cleo’s past relationship with me and by “some body” I mean Spectra Vondergeist. I probably should have ignored it but I didn’t. I found her and told her to knock it off since she didn’t know what she was talking about, she called me a dumb jock, I called her a lying phantom and she wailed a path across the school pretesting her innocence and demanding an apology. We both ended up in the Headmistress’s office where I was lectured about the “responsibility of being an example to younger monsters who look up to me.” She told Spectra to stop involving the whole school whenever she has a problem and that almost caused her to go off again but she managed to keep it together.  I know every monster wants to know what happened but it’s really none of their business.

October the 12th

HH Bloodgood has decided that every monster in school has to write an essay on our haunted heritage. She wants to put them all in a big book and pass it out to the students at the end of the year. In her words this will “better help you to understand yourselves and your fellow monsters.” I’m not so sure about the “understand yourselves” part but it might be interesting to read about my “fellow monsters.” I need to ask dad and mom how much information I’m allowed to give since there are some things we don’t talk about outside the pack. Our history is written in the Valde Lupus Libri and even within the book there are sections I’m not allowed to read until I have a pack of my own. One of those sections tells what happened to cause the bad blood between werewolves and vampires. I asked dad about it one time and he just gave me “the look” so I let it go. I can probably write about the things every monster already knows; like how during the full moon our senses get sharper while our strength and speed doubles or how we’re allergic to sive and wolf’s bane. We’re not undead so we don’t live forever, but 400+ years isn’t just a drop in the coffin either. I guess I could also put down where we’re from and how our original alpha became a werewolf but I definitely need to get permission before giving out that kind of info.

October the 18th

The stink from my confrontation with Spectra continues to linger and today I had to stop Clawdeen from going after Cleo because Clawdeen still thinks Cleo dumped me for Deuce and broke my heart. That’s not how it happened so I told Clawdeen the real story. When Cleo and I first started going out I had just been voted captain of the football team and Cleo had taken over her sister Nefera’s spot as captain of the fear squad. I was the BMOC - Big Monster on Campus and she was Her Royal Hawtness. It was like living the perfect nightmare. Even then I think we were enjoying the attention more than the relationship. We were friends, still are in fact, but the spark just wasn’t there. There was a spark between her and Deuce though. You couldn’t help but see it when they were around each other. I confess I was a little jealous but I soon got over that as our perfect nightmare suddenly came to an end. My wake up call came in the form of a season where we lost every game but one and I completed more passes to the other team than I did to my own. For Cleo, it was thinking she could just pick up her sister’s pom poms and not miss a fear except she was so bossy half the team quit and the half that stayed just did their own thing. We probably would have broken up then but the thought of adding any more drama to what was already going on was too much to think about. So we stayed together and kind of leaned on each other through it all. Eventually I started to make better decisions on the field and Cleo learned that leadership involved more than barking orders. So on the night before the last game of the year we decided to break up. Cleo told me that she knew Deuce wanted to ask her out but didn’t dare because she was still dating me and that she wouldn’t say yes for the same reason. That was that, except Cleo wanted to be able to tell everyone she broke it off because she didn’t want anyone thinking that the captain of the fear squad got dumped. I told her I wouldn’t lie about what happened but I wouldn’t say anything to contradict it either. Looking back I think it was dumb on her part to care so much about social status and it was equally dumb on my part to be “heroic” about it. When I finished, Clawdeen called me a monster jerk, punched me in the arm and then gave me a hug. Girls are so weird.

October the 25th

I’ve got a pretty big test in Biteology coming soon and since it’s impossible to find a quiet spot in our house I went to the library to study. I finished up there and just as I was leaving a storm blew in and it started raining. The temperature came down with the rain and by the time I got to my car I could already see my breath. On the way home my sweet fang started to howl so I stopped at this coffee place and grabbed a large coffinccino with whip cream cause, you know, that’s what I like. I got about a half mile down the road when I couldn’t find my iCoffin so I pulled over to see if it had fallen in between the seats. As I was looking for it I happened to glance across the street and saw this freaky cute monster standing on the sidewalk. It was raining pretty hard by then and I couldn’t quite make out her face. I rolled down the window just as the wind changed direction and for a brief moment I caught the scent of nightshade and lilac shampoo. Draculaura? I got out and yelled her name. She looked up and I said to myself, “Oh monster, what’s she doing out in this weather without a coat or umbrella?” Good thing dad always keeps one of his “eventuality” kits in his car with everything a monster might need in an emergency, including one of those compact umbrellas. I grabbed it and ran across the street where Draculaura was standing. Ordinarily I would have cracked some kind of joke but she looked so miserable I just opened the umbrella and helped her back to the car. Once we got in I handed her the coffinccino and turned up the heater. We sat there for a moment with the car running and I asked her if she wanted me to take her home. She nodded and I drove her back to her house. They don’t have a covered drive so I walked her up to the door and made sure she got in. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and darted inside before I could say anything which is a good thing because it felt like I’d been hit by that ogre again only all I could smell this time was nightshade and lilacs. After I got home mom asked me where I’d been. When I told her the library she just looked at me and said, “If you say so.” I thought that was weird until I caught my reflection in the hall mirror and saw a perfect imprint of lips in Draculaura red.

[xxgothickxx]

It Wasn’t Me

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This idea hit me while I was playing Among Us with a group of my friends. The only thing going through my mind at the time was “What if Among Us was scary? And put Bangtan in it?? And so, this story was born. This is my lousy attempted at thriller/horror, so sorry if I couldn’t get the feeling across just right. BUT I hope everyone who reads my story will at least have a little bit of fear striking their heart while reading this :> Also I apologies in advance if you’re upset at how the story plays out. Sadly, this is a horror story, based on a game about killing people and shitty decision making.

I also just want to take this time to say a big thank you to @bang-tan-bitches​ for the opportunity to partake in their Monster Mash competition. I had so much fun writing this and reading the other stories that partook with me! I can’t wait to read any future stories from you :D and also a big thank you to @nomimits7​ for letting me bother her so much for ideas and corrections on this story. I wouldn’t have had the balls if you didn’t push me to send it and post it!!

Words: 5.8K

Warnings/Triggers: A lot of dark places, lots of noises, OC Death, Character Deaths, Some gore (but not extremely descriptive), False accusations, Swearing (lots of it), One or two people have a panic attack (not extremely descriptive), Blood gets mentioned quite often, BTS MEMBERS DO DIE (You have been warned), Talking about dead bodies (I tried to keep it down on describing them), Memory Loss, My really shitty attempt at Horror/Thriller XD, Sorry if I missed anything :(

Music: I was listening to this while writing www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmTkm_o9Glo

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Everyone was quiet. No one making eye-contact, everyone except for Namjoon that is. He was pointedly staring straight at Jungkook with a harsh glint in his eye, or that could just be from his helmet visor reflecting the low light of everyone's flashlights strapped to their shoulders.

“I know it was you Kook, you can give up pretending like you were actually doing something” Namjoon’s words cut through the dimly lit cafeteria. His cyan coloured glove easily scrolling through his tablet searching for Jungkook’s name, the prompt for voting appearing.

“It wasn’t me! Guys I swear it wasn’t!” Kook pleaded to the others, giving up on trying to convince his elder.

“How isn’t it you JK? We last saw her with you!” Taehyung pipes up from his corner of the simplistic dinning bench. “We don’t even know where the body is guys, so everyone calm down we don’t really have time to throw around accusations with no substance to them.”, Yoongi’s apprehensive gaze looks over Jin’s shoulder, a red digital watch blinking as seconds go by threatening to cut their communication with each other.

“Hobi?”, Jimin looks in Hoseok’s direction. Nervous red gloved hands fiddling, his erratic breaths leaving his lips as he tries to keep it together. Tears turning his eyes glassy and unfocused, his mind recalling seeing your body ripped in half on the floor. “It was in Naviga-” his words faulter, a sob running through his entire body, tear stained face falling into his shaking hands.

Everyone looks on with heartbreak in their eyes, Taehyungs leaving the crying man to look at where you would have been sitting right across from him. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing down a sob of his own. Namjoon speaks up again, “Hobi, could you tell... tell if it was fresh?” “Namjoon!” Jin’s voice raises a few octaves, hand ready to slap the younger one behind the head but his arms are restricted by an unknown force and his pink gloved hand returns to his lap. Hoseok wails even more, but he shakes his head a faint mumble of ‘I couldn’t tell’. Jimin looks on, desperate longing to comfort Hoseok.

“Well then, where was everyone? State your current position, one at a time” Yoongi eyes the ticking red digits again, nerves clearly showing in his tone.

“I was busy here in cafeteria, I had to fix the wires!” Jungkook was quick to respond, desperation in his voice. “I was busy redirecting our power source through to our defences, I saw Taehyung with me. But it was dark, I don’t know what he was doing.” Jimin’s shaken voice calls through shortly after, his sad eyes resting on Taehyung. Everyone’s gaze shifted towards him, awaiting his answer. “I was busy downloading Electrical Bay logs, never got to it though so now I need to go stand there again.” A shiver runs down his spine, with his restricted vision in a place as isolated as their electrical bay, he’s sure everyone can relate to his distaste.

“I was with Yoongi in Medical, busy preparing the vial tests. I’m sure he was doing his scan behind me so he must be clear.” Jin’s voice echo’s through the dark room, his nod towards Yoongi is recuperated with a nod back. “Yeah, I was almost done but the... The... Y/A’s body got reported.” Yoongi fights with himself, unable to bring himself to refer to you now as a thing. A dead thing. Fuck, you were alive only minutes ago, he saw you run past Medical. You still gave him a wave of acknowledgement. His black gloved hand lifts out of its own, his fingers mimicking the wave he sent back your way at the time. Namjoon clearing his throat breaks Yoongi out of his trance. Unfocused eyes looking towards the man calling all attention.

“So then that leaves Jungkook, Hoseok and myself as the possible killer. I was in our administration room busy swiping myself into the system. Hobi I need you to pull it together man, what were you doing that side of the ship?” Hoseok’s body doesn’t stop shaking, but he tries to answer through his broken voice. “I just finished cleaning out the oxygen filters, I was on my way down to defences when I saw the blood trail leading to... to her...” His voice finally giving in, nothing but harsh breathing leaving his dry lips.

“Namjoon, I know you’re convinced it might be Jungkook but it’s not enough. It’s risky to vote someone out now. There's still the possibility the monster could be anyone, we don’t even know if there’s more than one. Keep an eye on JK for now, but it would be foolish to vote now.” Jin’s voice is soft, trying not to make his friend fly off the rails again with accusations. “Fine, this is a warning then Kook.” Namjoon’s cyan coloured gloved fingers cancelling his pending vote on Jungkook. Out of the corner of Taehyung’s eye he could see the visible relief in Jungkook’s body, his shoulders sagging and a held breath being pushed out through his nose.

Soon everyone scrolls to the bottom of the list of their names, all casting their votes on passing this meeting off as inconclusive. The digital timer behind Jin fades out, a scratchy robotic voice playing through the intercoms throughout the ship.

“5 votes Inconclusive”, the five crewmembers who voted, their eyebrows shoot into the sky in shock.

“1 vote Namjoon”, this made his heart race, someone is suspecting him? But who? His eyes dart into Jungkook’s direction seeing the youngest already looking his way, sweat gathering by his temples. It must be Kook, he’s trying to get rid of him!

“1 vote Hoseok”, dread colours his face, how can anyone suspect him of killing you? No, nonono this isn’t right. He was your friend; he could never bring himself to breath a bad word in your direction much less be able to kill you! He needs to partner up with someone, he possibly has a target on his back now. He needs to prove how innocent he really is.

“All members return to your duties”, and with that the intercoms shut down with a muted screech. As if their suits come to life, their helmets start shutting, visors sliding over their faces and locking in at the latch by their chins. Restricted vision in the already darkly lit ship with nothing but a low powered flashlight, everyone starts leaving the dinning bench. Jungkook’s purple helmet disappears into the shadows towards the upper end of cafeteria, Jimin and Taehyung running together towards the southern hallway. Namjoon still idles by the dinning bench, the emergency button tempting him into using his one and only use of it. His hands fist by his sides as he has an inner battle with himself, but finally he decides against it and follows Jin and Yoongi’s retreating figures that ran towards the west side of the ship.

Hoseok thought he was going to starts hyperventilating, he found himself alone in the dark. His mind repeating over and over again “target on your back... target on your back...” hesitatingly he runs towards south hallway in search of Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung... he said he would be in electrical bay. Hoseok finally knowing his exact destination he disappears into the shadows as he searches for his green helmet friend.

Unable to speak to each other, Jin and Yoongi trod along towards Medical bay again. Not close enough to touch each other with stretched arms, but close enough to still make out each other's body in the shadows. Yoongi doesn’t know how long they’ve been on the ship, his memory completely wiped. But he does remember doing his duties and that was the only thing driving him at this point. He can only vaguely recall all his supposed friends faces but even that gave him a headache if he focuses to long on it. The faint thumping of boots can be heard behind them but that soon fades away, sounded far as well so neither of them grew concerned.

The green flickering lights of Medical bay soon lights up the entryway, the letters ‘cal’ completely busted and the letter ‘i’ flickering on and off. Here Yoongi stops and gets ready to turn, but Jin doesn’t follow him. Yoongi’s stress levels spike at this, Jin just continues walking further down the hallway throwing Yoongi two fingers over his shoulder, ‘Peace’. Jin is abandoning him. Before Yoongi could run after, he was gone from his sight. Just the faint thumping of his boots getting softer and softer till the only thing he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and his panicked breathing.

“You can do this Yoongi, just do your scan and leave. All it takes is 10 seconds, more than enough before anyone can catch you alone.”, he tries to encourage himself, knowing no one can hear him over the busted communications in their helmets. Slowly he walks into the supposed Medical Ward. It was anything but that in his eyes.

The room looks like it hasn’t seen anything human in over 50 years. Ward beds lay toppled over or stacked against the wall to his right, some with wheels, others with what looks to be constraint-straps. This room wasn’t as frightful when he was in here with Jin. This ship is a lot better to handle in general when you're with someone else, he thinks to himself.

He accidently kicks over something that looks like a bedpan, nearly shitting himself at the loud clatter that echoes around him. His heart thundering in his chest, he shakes out his hands in front of him. ‘Fucking calm down Min Yoongi. Since when were you the biggest pussy on this ship?!’ With a neck roll he walks in deeper, passing the discarded beds he eyes the floor. There he sees it, the fucking vent. The second thing that drives a knife through everyone’s hearts. He hastens his steps towards the body scanner, he's been in here longer than he would like already. He hears boots running on top of the steel flooring close to the entrance, he holds his breath. The thumping gets louder but he can’t seem to pinpoint if it's from the left or right, just that it’s getting louder.

Deciding not to stand around and look like he’s not doing anything, he turns away from the door and jumps up onto the filthy podium. He can see his boot prints in the dust from when he was standing there previously before discovering your fate. His hand darts out and starts typing in his crew ID, the old machine groaning as it boots up. “Come on, come on, come on... Fucking switch on already you piece of shit!” as if the scanner could hear him it boots up, what used to be lime green lights settling on his form and so the program starts running.

Yoongi could see nothing, the scanner’s lights bouncing off his visor, barely able to see his own intel on the little black monitor in front of him. The whirling and beeping of the machine are deafening, drowning out the hurried footsteps he heard coming towards him. By the time he’s done, a simple 10 seconds he wishes never to experience again, he was climbing of the podium and sending his scan towards admin. Not waiting to see if the scan goes through, he goes running out of Medical while checking his right wrist for his remaining tasks. He heads east, thinking he’ll shortcut through cafeteria. There he bumps into a nervous Jungkook heading the same direction. They stood and stared at each other for what seemed hours. Yoongi could hear footsteps coming from south hallway, Jungkook’s head snapping towards it as well. Yoongi signals east and beckons Jungkook to follow and continues on with his journey. Weather Kook followed him or not, he doesn’t really care because he wasn’t going to look behind him.

Hoseok nearly ran head first into a stack of boxes when he entered Storage Bay. This room always gave him the creeps. Boxes of God-knows-what stacked high to the ceiling. He hates it, he hates it so much here. ‘I just want to go home’, he thinks to himself. ‘Where even is home? Do I have one? This place can’t be my home... right?’, his steps falter, inner monologue interrupted by movement. He swears he saw someone’s boot out the corner of his eye. “Buddy system Hobi, look for a buddy and stick by them”, he reminds himself, blinking away something wet from his eyes, not sure if it’s tears or sweat at this point. He slowly makes his way between unmarked boxes, vaguely remembering this is the path to the garbage shoot. He sees the silhouette of someone. His heart in his throat, he nears apprehensively, a yellow helmet coming to life. Jimin turns around and his mouth opens in horror when his eyes land on Hoseok so close to him. He goes tumbling to the floor, his arms thrown up in a defensive manner in the hopes it will make the killing blow less painful.

When nothing happens Jimin opens one eye and peaks through his arms. Hoseok just standing there waving his arms telling Jimin to get back on his feet. With a huff Jimin drags his body back into a standing position and eyes Hoseok warily. He dusts of his white spacesuit's pants, doing nothing but spreading the dust and grease over himself even more. Hoseok points towards the west, asking Jimin silently if he would go with. Jimin shakes his head and points east, he has tasks to do that side of the ship. Hoseok clasps his red hands together, contemplating if he should stick with Jimin or continue on his search for Taehyung. Lifting his right arm, he checks his task list. He needs to be at reactor. He waves to Jimin and leaves his yellow friend behind and continuous looking for Taehyung.

Jin leans back in the rickety chair inside security. The chair is missing two wheels and an arm rest but it’s the only comfort he can indulge in right now. He watches the security cameras in a bored haze. He was curious as to why Yoongi left Medical and went back to cafeteria and not come looking for him. Jin leans back as far as the chair will allow before hearing the plastic cracking. He didn’t like having his back turned to the doorway, much less the vent. He eyes the grated hole in the far corner away from him. It’s barely hidden in the shadows but he could still see the dry blood-stained metal in the low light. The room was practically empty except for a lone broken desk, document debris scattered on its top and the floor around it. He already searched through those notes; he still doesn’t know anything. If anything, he was even less wiser than what he was ten minutes ago. He turns back to the cracked monitors in front of him. He needed to find a way off this damned ship, even if it killed him while trying. He knew he had a family somewhere out there, he needed to get back to them. He watches on silently, his right wrist beeping red. He swears he could hear the creaking of metal on metal.

Jimin having turned his back on Hoseok, walked towards defences. The hallway felt longer and darker when he was alone. He could only hear his erratic breathing and his foot falls on the steel below him. He paused. The entrance of communications greeting him. He peered in but saw no one. The room was filthy. Nothing short of looking like a hurricane tore it apart. Electronic equipment shattered and broken litter the floor. Confusi9on clouded his brain, “What happened on this shi-?” A splitting headache seized him between his eyes at that very moment. He fell to his knees screaming himself hoarse. The feeling of hooks tearing his brain apart, membrane from membrane, he tries clutching at his helmet trying to pray it off of himself. Not soon after Jimin’s vision turns black, his body shutting down and his head bangs against the steel floor.

Jungkook walked quietly behind Yoongi, far enough to just see his elder’s boots in his line of vision. He wasn’t even sure if Yoongi knew he was still following him. He watched as they passed the ship’s gun room. It was more a laser shooter in Kookie’s eyes but he felt the time to bring up the debate of room names was not now. He looks down to his right wrist, red light beeping silently. He continues following Yoongi towards what looks like Navigation Room? Jungkook decides it was best to break off there and head into the oxygen maintenance room, his eyes following the cracking glass plant tank, from there he follows the banged-up pipes all along the walls. He remembers Hoseok saying something about cleaning out the filters here. He looks over his shoulder, hoping Yoongi would have paused and waited for him. No one but darkness greets him. With a shake of his head and shoulders he tries to calm himself down, he disappears deeper into the room in search of a small leaver.

He flicked open his left wrist, opening the small red map on his visor. He wonders if his brother has feasted yet, the idea makes his stomach rumble. He growls jealously at the idea, no, he needs to feed before he becomes unbearable, before he starts slipping up, before he gets caught. He goes for the easiest option, a low grumble of ‘Lights’ sets the mood just the way he likes it. Everyone plunges into darkness. All power gets cut in seconds, flashlights, wall lights, even monitor lights die.

Multiple running footsteps can be heard heading in his direction, he smiles and sticks to the boxes in storage. One set of footsteps are the closest to him, he focuses on the south hallway.

When Jimin comes to he realises he's on the floor, his face clammy and an incessant throbbing inside his head. Slowly he climbs back onto his feet, a shake of his shoulders makes himself feel dizzy, the feeling of vomit coming up his throat makes him turn green. After a few deep breaths Jimin tries to remember what he was doing, lost in thought standing in the even darker hallway. This makes him blink a few times, slowly realisation hits him, the faint blaring of an alarm ringing in his ears. He needs to head to Electrical Bay, hoping he chooses the right direction, he sets off.

Jungkook has never been scared of the dark, not that he can remember that, but he's never been plunged into this type of void before. His hands outstretched in front of him, making sure he won't bump into any walls on his way to see why the power system is failing. He calls out for Yoongi in desperation forgetting that they have no way to communicate with each other. He continues calling out regardless, some messed up way of soothing himself. His shin hits the cafeteria bench, he curses and bends down to rub away the pain. ‘Fucking stupid Kook, why are you even here? You’ve done nothing but make yourself look like an idiot, now you’re walking into shit as well! Fucking useless!’, his internal monologue deafens him from hearing footsteps approaching. The last thing Jungkook saw was sharp white teeth coming straight at him as he stood back up as the lights faded on.

All remaining members were seated at the dinning bench. One by one their visors opened and they quickly saw who was missing. Jungkook and Jin. The vacant seats mocking them.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! WHO THE FUCK KILLED JUNGKOOK? TELL ME NOW YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Yoongi tried to jump from his seat but he struggled against his suit, as if he was glued to his chair. He was losing it, Kookie was right behind him. Right behind HIM. That means the killer was close by. It could have been him. It SHOULD have been him. He was to chicken shit to look out for Jungkook. He’s responsible for the loss of a crewmate. He breaks down, elbows slamming onto the table, black gloved hands flying to his hair and desperately starts pulling at his strands. Tears freely running down his face.

“Yoongi, it wasn’t Jungkook that I saw in there. I... I saw... Fuck... I saw Jin. He was... He was everywhere... I...”, Taehyung’s voice wavers, he’s staring at the table top but his eyes were watching something else entirely. Just blood, so much blood... was everywhere.

“Where TaeTae?”, Jimin wants to reach out towards his friend. Comfort him and clean his mind from the horrors he witnessed.

“Was in security. I didn’t see anything but I was with Taehyung. I had to go to reactor, Tae came with me so I wouldn’t be alone. He went right and I left and... now we’re here.”, Hoseok’s voice sounded lifeless. His skin was pale and ashy, dark rings decorated his eyes and his nose was raw and red.

“Jimin where were you?”, Namjoon’s eyes darts towards the yellow crewmate. Jimin quickly throws his hands in the air. “No, NO! It wasn’t me! Hoseok can confirm I was in storage and I went east towards defences. Hobi please tell them! There’s no way for me to get to security even with using the vents!” Jimin grabs at the sides of the dining table, his entire body shaking with unshed tears. “Hobi please!”

“Namjoon, he’s right. Even if it was... recent or not, there’s no way it could have been him.”, Hobi hangs his head, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake by defending Jimin.

“Where the fuck were you Namjoon? Huh? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU MOTHERFUCKER?!”, Yoongi tries again to lunge over the table but still he was held to his chair. “YOU HAD IT OUT FOR HIM FROM THE GET GO! JUST ADMIT YOU FUCKING KILLED KOOK!” he was seeing red, the veins on his forehead and throat looking as if they will pop any second. “He has a point Namjoon... Where were you? I was in storage on my way to Electrical to check the switchboard and I didn’t see you in there”, Jimin tries to rub away one of the grease stains on his yellow glove, eyes refusing to look up.

“Yeah Joon, Taehyung and myself fixed the lights, you weren’t in Electrical Bay area at all.”, Hoseok’s the one with the pointed glare now.

“Why are you looking at me? I was back in administration, where the fuck were you Yoongi?” Namjoon was bringing up his defences, he puffed out his chest and tightened his hands into fists on top of the dull table. “I was busy in Navigation you fucker, WHY WERE YOU IN ADMIN AGAIN?”, Yoongi’s voice echoed all around them. Creaking of metal could be heard around them. The darkness filled with silence reminding the crewmembers where they were. A jarring reality compared to the screaming that engulfed them mere seconds ago. The scratchy robotic voice on the intercoms greeted them.

“Voting ends in 10 seconds” The faint blaring of an alarm sounds, slowly getting louder as the seconds tick by.

2 seconds was all it took. 2 seconds of making split-second eye contact and the crewmates were voting.

“1 vote Inconclusive”, no one was making eye-contact. Some breathing louder than others. Jimin could swear he heard Hoseok letting out a sob, or was it Taehyung?

“1 vote Yoongi”, Hearing this made him snap in Namjoon’s direction. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER, YOU THINK I WOULD KILL HIM? HUH? FUCK YOU, PRICK! YOU FUCKING MURDERER, FUCKING MONSTER!”, Yoongi was barely keeping himself together, feeling of rage taking over his being, that is till he hears the last casted voting announcement.

“3 votes Namjoon”, Yoongi breaks out in hysterical laughter. HIs voice bouncing back against the broke walls of the cafeteria. “Looks like you’ll be getting what you deserve after all!”

“You guys made a mistake, it’s not me. If you kick me out now, all of you will die. Please think about this, we can still go ba-”, “Like hell we are! Filthy scum trying to fool you all into trusting it!”, Yoongi was finally freed from his suit’s constraints to the bench. “Come on everyone, the votes have spoken.”, He stalks over to Namjoon, showing him to get up and start walking towards the airlock at the top of the cafeteria. Hoseok gets up and joins him in ushering Namjoon off the ship. Taehyung and Jimin remain at the table, refusing to partake.

Yoongi pulls the latch down, the solid metal doors sliding open with a hiss. With no protest Namjoon steps in, back still turned towards them as Yoongi pushes the latch back up. The doors creak and struggle to close, but seal after a few minutes. Hoseok has moved towards the windows looking out into the vacant space way outside. “This is for Jungkook. Rest in Hell.” With as much strength that Yoongi could muster he slammed his fist down on the eject button. His head barely had time to rest on the cold dirty metal of the airlock panel before their helmets started shutting again.

“Namjoon’s gone.” Those are the last words Yoongi heard pass Hoseok’s lips before they were sealed back into their spacesuits, voiceless. Little did Yoongi know he meant that his body disappeared.

Jimin was the last to leave the table this time. He was unsure of himself. Unsure if his crewmates made the right choice. His right arm beeped red, sighing he flicked open his task list. The flashing of the Reactor Room bouncing off his helmet visor. He didn’t even know which direction the rest of them went in. Slowly he got up, heading west. He heard faint footsteps getting louder the closer he got. The hallway was a mess, broken glass crunched under his boots. ‘Where did this even come from?’, His thoughts distracting him, not even noticing the creaking of metal on metal behind him.

Yoongi walks out of Electrical Bay with confidence, just finishing his tasks and not a soul knew he was in there. Deciding he should check out the security cameras and see where everyone was hiding, but before he could take a step towards the west side of the ship the alarms were blaring again. Oxygen was depleting, and fast. ‘Fuck!’, ignoring his original plan he made a dash for the administration room, hoping someone would already be at the top for the second half of the system reset. It was practically impossible to run into Admin. The number of boxes of files thrown everywhere had Yoongi nearly tripping five times just to get to the back of the room. Finally, he was able to get to the keypad, ripping the yellow sticky note off the monitor. He was squinting as much as he possibly could, barely able to make out the numbers. ‘Is that a six or an eight?’, smashing his thumb on the green button he got the code in with four seconds to spare. He didn’t even realise the depleting oxygen was making him dizzy. He stood in Admin for what felt like an hour, just taking deep breaths. “Where in the ever-loving fuck is everyone else?”, he asks this to himself out loud with no answer returned.

Jimin was a broken mess on the floor, not only did he get a fright when the alarm went off, but once he turned around to go towards the emergency, the doors sealed him in security hallway outside reactor. He pounded as much as his body could against the door, eventually cowering against the corner crying for help. He was convinced he was a goner. His eyes refused to look down the long empty and dark hallway. The only sounds around him the ticking timer of the doors, his sobs and the sound of dripping water.

When the alarm stopped screaming in his ears, not soon after the doors opening, Jimin was astonished that he was still alive. Counting his lucky starts he moved towards his final task in reactor. This room had more light than any other room on the ship, making Jimin squint for a few seconds trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness. Jimin stepped in a pool of water, the soft splash making him jump out of his skin. Jumping back, his eyes fall to the floor. But what Jimin sees might scar him for the rest of his life. He saw a red glove next to a red puddle. Jimin bends to pick it up but drops it instantly when he feels there was weight to it. He felts as if he was going to throw up again, his vision going double and he stumbles back, hitting the reactor door frame. “No, please no, not Hobi... Please not Hobi!”, His voice is scratchy to his own ears. His throat raw and painfully hot.

He heard the tapping of something wet hitting the top of his helmet. Slowly he lifted his head. His eyes were greeted with the horribly mangled body of his beloved elder handing from the wires dangling from the ceiling. Jimin not being able to tell the red blood apart from the red on Hoseok’s suit, he let out a deafening painful scream only his ears could hear and flicked his left arm, with panicked fingers he fumbles to press the report button on his suit.

One by one the visors open of the remaining crewmates. Jimin’s the last to open. Taehyung just lifts his hand and points at Jimin. “Yoongi, it was Jimin all along. I saw him, I caught him with Hoseok’s body. HE WAS STILL TRYING TO GET RID OF THE BLOOD ON HIS SUIT!”, Taehyung’s voice slowly raised into hysteria. Yoongi was confused, his head moving from Taehyungs direction and then Jimin’s and then back to Taehyung.

Jimin’s eyes widening, seeing how Taehyung could have seen this as a misunderstanding. “No! NO, IT WASN’T ME! Tae please you don’t understand what you saw! I found Hobi’s body there, I was freaking out BECAUSE HE WAS LITRALLY ON TOP OF ME IN THE CEILING! I wasn’t cleaning blood off of me I was trying to press my report button! Please this is just a huge misunderstanding, Yoongi, you believe me, right? Right?!”, Jimin’s eyes brimmed with tears, his words stumbling as he’s trying not to cry himself into hysterics while trying to plead for his life.

“Jimin... How... How could you?” Yoongi was speechless. It all made sense now. It was never Namjoon that killed Jungkook, it was Jimin. How did he not figure this out? He’s been quiet in every meeting. Used Taehyung as an alibi. He was in defences when he and Jungkook went to Navigation. Lights were killed and he could have easily offed Kookie behind his back. And now, Jimin wasn’t stopping the oxygen depletion because he was busy feasting on Hoseok’s body.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes?”

“Where were you this whole time?”

“I was busy in Weapons. Oxygen emergency popped up and I walked down to Oxygen Room and typed in the reset keycode.”

“And before that?”

“I saw Hoseok leaving cafeteria towards the west. You left south. Jimin stayed in cafeteria for a while, I stayed with him, but after a few minutes I decided to go do my last task so I left east towards weapons.”

Yoongi sat there for a long while, the digital timer in front of him placing pressure on him.

“Jimin?”

“Y-yes?...”

“Can you confirm anything Taehyung just said?”

“I-I can’t remember... Honestly I can’t! I left cafeteria going west, I didn’t see anyone passing me on the way back. As soon as I got into Security Hallway, all the doors shut on me. I went and hid! I thought I was going to die!”, Jimin was a blubbering mess at this point, he couldn’t see clearly, he could smell the blood on his suit drying.

“I’m not convinced... Die with the rest of your kind, monster. Your fake tears won’t work on me any longer!”

“NO WAIT!”, Jimin’s last plea fell on deaf ears. Taehyung and Yoongi placed their votes and Jimin had no other choice but to place his as well. The scratchy robotic voice lulled to life over the intercoms.

“1 vote Taehyung”, Taehyungs eyes widen at this, his eyes quickly darting between Jimin and Yoongi in panic.

“2 votes Jimin”, and at hearing his final fate Jimin wails. He screams and cries as loud as he could. Yoongi could feel the release on their suits from the bench and proceeded to walk towards the airlock. He pulled the latch down, the sealed doors opening with a creek and groan. Jimin refused to get up from his seat, holding on to the table as tightly as he could. He will make one last fight for his life.

Taehyung huffs at him. “You traitor. Hoseok trusted you. I trusted you. Every single one of us trusted you. How many did you kill while my back was turned to you? Huh?” Taehyung’s words cut through him like a knife, each lashing with his tongue made Jimin’s heart bleed. “Please Tae, please, please, please, it wasn’t me. What you saw was a misunderstanding! PLEASE YOU MUST BELIEVE ME, DON’T DO THIS!”, Taehyung walked up to Jimin and hooked his arms in under his armpits. He dragged the kicking and screaming man to the airlock. Yoongi was watching all of this unfold. His eyes never leaving Jimin, hoping that his disappointed face would burn into his mind. Taehyung threw Jimin on the ground in the middle of the airlock as if he weighed nothing. There Jimin stayed on his knees, elbows on the ground hunched in on himself, quietly sobbing.

Taehyung nodded in Yoongi’s direction, signalling him to do it. Without thinking twice, Yoongi pushes the latch up, waiting for the old doors to seal back up. The last words Yoongi hears from Jimin are, ‘It wasn’t me I swear’. He pauses, his finger just above the eject button. “Yoongi, do it. Do it so we can go home.”, Taehyung’s voice sounds stern, Yoongi follows through. He joins Taehyung by the window to watch Jimin disappear into space.

The first thing Jimin feels is cold. Extremely cold. He feels nothing at the same time, just his body floating in nothing. He tries to hold his breath for as long as he possibly can. As his body twists and turns away from the ship, his sight quickly fading, the last thing Jimin witnessing is Yoongi’s body against the window. Soon followed by a large splatter of blood and his lifeless body falling to the floor of the cafeteria. Jimin closes his eyes in a final goodbye, a single frozen tear stuck to his cheek as the void swallows him whole.

[qandnoablog]

Returned (Marvel Imagine)

Title: Discovered

Pairing: There is no final pairing (since I follow along with the movies as accurately as I can) but [Y/N] does gravitate towards Loki

Warnings: Based on the movie - Avengers: End Game

Part: 17, [16], [15], [14], [13], [12], [11], [10], [9], [8], [7], [6], [5], [4], [3], [2], [1] Short story: [3], [2], [1]

Key: Y/N - Your Name Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Word Count: 2,280

Summary: Without much time to mourn the Avenger’s most recent fallen, the team resumes their original mission in returning all that have been dusted. Sadly, before anyone has time to rejoice, the compound is under attack and chaos ensues. What more awaits [Y/N] and will peace ever come?

Note From Author: Here is another part, finished, edited, and out for all of you! I hope you enjoy it and stick around for the next part :)

Part 17 - Return

The moment [Y/N] felt her feet on solid ground, her eyes scanned the room for two specific people. When her eyes landed on them, she first felt relieved, then furious.

“Are you two insane?!” [Y/N] hollered as she knocked both of them over the head with her abilities, gauging each power to do a good amount of damage to each one.

“Easy there, Tiger,” Tony began, rubbing the sore spot on his head, but [Y/N] didn’t let him finish.

“I already felt crappy about letting you all down when I lost the Tesseract back in New York, but now you both make me sit out when I could have helped you get back another one? Stephen Strange already pulled that stunt over on me back on Titan, but you… You both did the exact same thing!”

[Y/N] would have drone on and on, but suddenly the atmosphere in the room plummeted. She sensed something amiss and then turned her attention to the loud sound behind her.

Clint had fallen to his knees, his expression solemn, and his eyes did not meet anyone else's. Everyone focused their attention to him and then realized the one person missing from their group.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asked.

That’s right. Natasha Romanoff was nowhere to be found. And Clint had the air of grief and mourning around him. His smile during their departure was gone and all that was left was sorrow and guilt. Tears glimmered in his eyes as the immense emotions he felt poured onto everyone around him. He didn’t need to say a word. Everyone already knew the answer.

Bruce fell to his knees while the others bowed their heads. [Y/N]’s anger vanished into thin air and she stared at Clint for a good few seconds before tears fell from her eyes and streamed down her face. She took one step forward, then another, then another, until soon she was right in front of the man. Then she kneeled down and embraced him, both to comfort him as well as leaning on a friend who understood the pain of loss she was feeling.

Natasha was one of the first few Avengers [Y/N] had gotten to know. And throughout their journey, Nat was always helping her out. She had trained her in some self defense, taught her how to wield some weapons, and was there for her when her family had turned to dust. Natasha had stayed at the Avengers compound and allowed [Y/N] to stay with her when she had nowhere else to go. She had considered Natasha as her family, and she had also seen [Y/N] the same way.

And now, that strong, unbreakable woman was gone.

Holding onto Clint, [Y/N] cried and cried. She didn’t care if she was the only one that wailed out in sadness, or that the only sound coming from the compound was from her. She just held on to her friend, who must have been feeling much worse than her, and cried. Cried at the unfairness of it all.

~

“-!” a voice called out to her, stirring her back to consciousness, but she could barely make out the sounds, let alone who the voice belonged to.

Sore all over and unbelievably dizzy, [Y/N] just wanted to close her eyes and sleep for the rest of her life. But someone kept shaking her, rattling her as if in a panic. A groan escaped her throat as she resisted, not wanting to open her eyes, but the person just wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Hey, hey, hey! [Y/N], stay with me!”

Finally, she was able to register the words and her eyes flickered open. Though the image was fuzzy, she could make out the shape of the man behind the voice. Groggy and disoriented, she tried to recollect her thoughts while blinking away the haziness that clouded her sight. That’s when she remembered what had just happened.

After the team had finished up the new gauntlet, placing all six stones into the gear, there was a brief debate of who would put it on and snap those dusted back into existence. It was ultimately decided that the safest option was Bruce, because the stones consisted of mostly gamma radiation. None of them knew if he would survive, so everyone stood by, ready for any potential risks at hand.

Everything should have been over after the snap. Everything should have worked and gone back to normal after Bruce had succeeded in bringing everybody back. Everything should have ended, peace finally being restored… But then… But then something happened.

All hell broke loose as the whole compound began to crumble under the surprise attack. Clint was knocked unconscious and [Y/N] acted purely on instinct. She jumped down into the gaping hole of the floor, tackling into him, and her barriers encased the two as they plummeted down. The last thing she remembered was… Was holding onto Clint as she braced for impact.

“Oh, thank god,” Clint breathed out as he saw [Y/N]’s eyes coming into focus. “Thank God…”

“Clint?” [Y/N] coughed, the debris all around them making the air difficult to breathe. “What-?”

“I don’t know,” he answered as he took out a light and inspected their surroundings.

Given the circumstances, the two had made it out with very little injuries. Seeing how the whole compound seemed to be laid to waste, it was a miracle that no bones were broken. Clint had been unconscious when the two fell down, but he could guess that it was thanks to [Y/N]’s abilities that the two were relatively alright. And when he woke up and she didn’t, his heart nearly stopped in his chest. He had lost one friend that day. He couldn’t lose another.

Looking up and around, calling through the comms to see if they could get in touch with anyone, Clint happened to spot something lying under the rubble not too far from them. It was the gauntlet! Now the size of Hulk’s hand, it had fallen down with them during the pandemonium. How all this had happened was unclear at the moment, but thankfully the infinity stones did not end up lost or worse… In the wrong hands.

A low growl echoed through the tunnel, snapping them into battle positions. Clint reached for his arrow, his bow ready, while [Y/N] quickly got up and readied her powers. Seeing no enemies from one end, Clint quickly turned to the other. [Y/N] followed and noticed something move under the dim, red lights. He fired an arrow, lighting up the tunnel, and both were alarmed to see several alien figures creeping towards them.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Outnumbered, Clint retracted his bow and [Y/N] sent out a wave of her powers to push the enemy back. The animalistic creatures were thrown off, and in that brief time period Clint grabbed the gauntlet and the two retreated into the opposite direction.

Sprinting in the cramped space, it was only a matter of time before these beasts caught up with them. Still, neither Clint or [Y/N] were willing to go down without a fight. The moment the aliens got too close, [Y/N] sent out a blast of her powers and sent them back just a few more spaces. But being unable to stop and actually go against them face to face, it was hard to do any permanent damage.

Thinking fast, Clint placed a few arrows along the path. She wasn’t sure what he was planning, but she didn’t have time to ask. Instead, she just trusted him and tried to provide him with a little more time.

“Shield!” He instructed, leaping forward, and [Y/N] acted without a second thought.

The two were wrapped in a bubble of her energy, just when a chain of explosions went off in the dimly lit tunnel behind them. Thrown by the force of the trap, the two stumbled onto the metallic floor, her shield coming down as they rolled to safety.

Still, it was not enough to bring all the aliens down.

Clint tossed [Y/N] the gauntlet and held onto her waist as he shot out a grappling hook from his other arm and hooked it to his belt. Then the two shot into the air, right before the animalistic alien could pounce on top of them. Still, they persisted.

With his free arm, he drew his sword and sliced through the first alien that jumped at them while [Y/N] adjusted her weight with her powers to lessen the burden on Clint. With that, she gathered up her energy, condensing the air before her, and shot out several waves that sliced through her opponents. Though it wasn’t as clean as Clint’s blade, she disabled enough for them to safely make it to the top.

Landing hard onto the solid floor, Clint released [Y/N] and turned back to the hole with his sword raised, ready for any more oncoming attacks. She quickly got up, ignoring the new bruises and cuts, and was about to join when the two realized that no more were making their way towards them.

Slumping back down, [Y/N] caressed the gauntlet as both she and Clint finally were able to take a breath.

“Oh, hey,” Clint panted as he lay on the floor, noticing footsteps approaching them. “I know you.”

It was Nebula. She had fought with them against Thanos, her father, and had stuck by them after all this time, and though Clint didn’t know her all that well, she was a part of their team now. Relieved to see a friendly face and not an enemy, the two let down their guard.

She reached out for the gauntlet, and having no reason to doubt a friend, [Y/N] extended it towards her. But the next words that came from Nebula’s mouth rattled her to the core.

“Father,” she said through some sort of communication device, raising alarm bells for both [Y/N] and Clint, “I have the stones.”

“What?” Clint asked in disbelief, but before he could stand, Nebula had put her foot down on top of him and pointed her gun to his head.

“What are you-!” [Y/N] began, her powers just about ready to knock the gun from the blue woman, but another voice interrupted her.

“Stop,” a woman commanded, stepping out from the shadows with a gun pointed at Nebula.

She was just as alien as Nebula, but her skin was green and her hair a mix of black and red. And unlike Nebula, she was someone [Y/N] had never seen before. But her gun wasn’t facing neither her nor Clint. Instead it was directed at Nebula, whose side was currently in question.

The blue and green alien had their weapons at the ready, one pointed at Clint while the other pointed at Nebula, but neither were ready to fire. [Y/N] was beyond confused and didn’t know what to make of the situation. So instead of going for the offensive, she focused her powers around Clint and herself to solidify their defenses.

“You’re betraying us?” Nebula questioned, her eyes never leaving the stranger.

Then, the next arrival that walked into their standoff made [Y/N]’s head spin.

Another Nebula walked into the room, her hands up to show that she was unarmed. Startled, the first Nebula stepped back and shifted her aim from Clint to the other Nebula. Using that opening, Clint rolled away and dragged [Y/N] back to a safer distance, away from all the guns.

“You don’t have to do this,” the unarmed Nebula said, trying to reason with her other self.

“I am this,” the first Nebula countered.

“No, you’re not,” the green alien argued, resolute in her claim.

The three went back and forth, two trying to convince the one, while Clint and [Y/N] tried to make sense of what was going on right before their eyes. It seemed that the unarmed Nebula was the one [Y/N] had gotten to know over the years, but the other Nebula and the green woman were a mystery to her. And Clint was beyond confused, since he had only just met Nebula and didn’t know what to make of any of this.

“No!” The green alien cried out just as the enemy Nebula pointed her weapon at her.

In that split second, the Nebula that [Y/N] knew drew her gun and shot her other self right in the heart before she could fire. Groaning in pain, the enemy Nebula backed up to the fencing and slid down to the ground, the light in her eyes fading and the tears that had welled up dripping to the floor.

Though she was no longer able to make a sound, it was clear as day that the enemy Nebula did not want her life to end this way. Just like the one [Y/N] had gotten to know, she wanted to abandon her orders and join the two before her. Sadly, she was unable to break free of her father’s hold on her.

Brushing aside the questions that bubbled within her, [Y/N] slipped away from Clint and picked up the gauntlet. Although she didn’t quite understand all that went down between the three of them, she knew one thing was crystal clear.

The enemy Nebula had reported to someone and called him, “Father.” And having known Nebula for those past five years, [Y/N] knew exactly who they were dealing with. The monster that started all this tragedy was back.

Thanos had returned.

[PART 18]

Tags: @themeanestlittlewitch  @stressedandbandobessed7771 @moistpotatobear @fxckingfat​ @e7here4l

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: An Adventure in Pink Fluffy Earmuffs

AU-gust Day Twenty-Six: Monster Hunters AU Fandom: Once Upon A Time Pairing: Rumbelle

Rated: T

Summary: Renowned monster hunting team Belle and Gold have some fun on their latest case, evicting a banshee.

An Adventure in Pink Fluffy Earmuffs

“Belle, have you seen my earmuffs?”

From her position in the library, Belle rolled her eyes. The one disadvantage to her husband being a hoarder of useless junk that he was certain he would find a use for someday was that he could never find any of the items that were actually of use to him. 

Reluctantly, she slipped a bookmark into her latest read and got up from the sofa, throwing the blanket over the back. She knew that she was going to have to get up sooner rather than later anyway, she had heard Gold on the phone and it was clear that he had his business voice on - they were being hired for a job, and Belle couldn’t exactly let her husband go it alone against monsters unknown just because she wanted to get to the end of her chapter. 

“Let me guess, it’s a banshee.”

Gold appeared in the doorway and nodded. “Apparently it’s in the cellar of a pub about fifteen miles away. It moved in whilst the owners were away last week and they can’t get rid of it.”

“Well, I can certainly see why we’ll need the earmuffs. All right, I’ll help you look.”

People often asked Belle how she had ended up in the monster hunting business. It was really very simple - her mother had been a monster hunter, as had her grandmother, and she was just keeping the tradition going. When she’d met Gold whilst on the hunt for a particularly destructive werewolf that was causing havoc raiding a local convenience store, they’d hit it off, and despite a healthy dose of professional rivalry at the start, they’d eventually set up shop together and eventually turned their professional relationship into a romantic one that had culminated in marriage. Belle’s maid of honour had been the very werewolf that had brought them together in the first place. 

She always enjoyed seeing the looks on everyone’s faces when she told them her story. She would admit that monster hunting wasn’t really a career that most people thought even existed, let alone that it was a job for a five-foot-nothing-and-a-bit woman who looked as if she might blow away in a strong breeze, but it was the only life that Belle had ever known, and she thoroughly enjoyed it. 

“Have we got any more clues as to what we’re going up against this time?” Belle asked presently as she continued to search for the earmuffs whilst helping Gold gather together all the classic equipment for the catching of a banshee. “Traditionally, when banshees move in they have good reason. The owners are in good health, I trust?”

Banshees were said to manifest whenever a death in the household was imminent, but in Belle’s experience, their sense of timing and direction was often out by a few years, and they’d turn up either far too late or comically early, or in the house next door by accident.

“As far as they both know, they’re absolutely fine, and there’s no one elderly or frail in the household. At any rate, whilst they might have a portent of doom in the cellar, they’d really rather not have their demises foretold, and it’s causing them all sorts of problems when they’re trying to get down and change the barrels. I think they’re more concerned for the loss of custom than the possible death sentence she’s brought with her.”

Belle nodded. “Sensible people.” She did not hold much sway with the appearance of banshees and other creatures as signs of imminent disaster, but they received numerous calls from people who were incredibly superstitious. Whilst she and Gold could not always get to the bottom of what had caused the issue, they could usually hope to set their clients’ minds at ease. Banshees were always difficult in that sense given their longstanding association with death, and it was sometimes hard for people to understand that supernatural beings could be just as fallible as natural ones - sometimes more so given their infrequent appearance in the corporeal realm. They were somewhat out of touch. 

“Well, I can’t see your earmuffs anywhere,” she said. “Are you sure you didn’t leave them in the van from the last time? I seem to vividly recall a conversation the last time we were up against a banshee and had to spend half an hour looking for your earmuffs, in which I advised you to do just that.”

“I know, and I did leave them in the van for a long time afterwards. They were in the glove compartment, but the last time I saw them in there, they were looking all dusty and cobwebbed so I brought them in and put them in the laundry, and now I don’t know where they are. I think the Eater of Socks has had them.”

“Darling, you know full well that the Eater of Socks only eats socks, and I fed him just last week.”

(Some of the ‘monsters’ they hunted were harmless enough to keep as pets. The Eater of Socks, shooed out of a youth hostel’s laundry room two years ago, was a case in point.)

Gold sighed. “I can’t go up against a banshee without earmuffs, Belle.”

“I know. You can borrow my spare pair.”

Gold was visibly unimpressed with that suggestion, but he said nothing, and Belle knew that he didn’t have another choice. She grabbed both pairs of earmuffs from her kit, popping one around her own neck and the other around Gold’s. She probably shouldn’t have laughed at him, but it was his own fault that he’d lost his earmuffs and now was being forced to wear bright pink fluffy ones with little kitten faces on them. 

“All right, let’s go and get this over with and hope that this banshee’s an agreeable one. I don’t want to have to endure this humiliation for any longer than I have to.”

Belle just laughed again.

X

The pub was easy to find once they reached the town, and as soon as Belle saw the name of the place, she knew exactly why they had a resident banshee. Anywhere called ‘The Irishman’s Lament’, well, they were sort of tempting fate when it came to creatures from Irish folklore. 

The owners met them outside; even from a distance Belle could still hear the wailing in the cellar, and she grimaced. 

Thankfully the owners did not mention the pink fluffy earmuffs as Belle and Gold entered the building. They either assumed that Gold was wearing them in solidarity with Belle’s own cute earmuffs, or they were so grateful that someone had come to deal with their banshee problem that they didn’t care what they were wearing in terms of protective gear.

The spirit in question was easy to find in the cellar, and the fact that she was making no move towards concealment told Belle that she had likely ended up in here by accident and was just as eager to leave as the owners were to get her out, but there had been a breakdown in communication somewhere along the line. Over the years of working in close proximity to all kinds of weird and wonderful creatures, Belle had long since learned that usually they were just as scared of humans as humans were of them, but they had trouble getting that across, normally just making themselves even more scary in the process. 

“All right, this should be easy enough.” Gold set up a lantern on one of the barrels, readjusting his earmuffs. She was certainly loud in her lamenting, this one. Perhaps if they could get her to quieten down for a moment they could explain that they were here to help and she’d be out of the cellar in no time. 

Belle switched on her recording equipment. The best way to get a banshee to come quietly was to play it at its own game, recording its own wail and playing it back. She and Gold always liked to get through evictions with the least amount of fuss and least harm to the creatures - annoying or hurting them would guarantee that the next time they found themselves surrounded by humans, they would lash out and cause even more problems for the monster hunters.

The ploy worked and the banshee stopped wailing on hearing her own voice, giving Gold and Belle a confused look. As Belle took the equipment towards the cellar door she followed obediently, pausing when she reached the light and shying away. 

Gold draped a dark cloth over her and coaxed her gently up the steps from behind, Belle leading their strange little convoy until they were back out in the sunlight, whereupon she switched off the recorder. The sheet covered shape looked around for a while, perplexed, and then melted away, leaving only the cloth behind. 

“If we’d known it was that simple then we wouldn’t have needed to call you,” the landlord said, “but at the same time, we’re very grateful.”

“Banshee wails don’t record well on standard equipment,” Gold explained. “You did the right thing in calling in the professionals. Do let us know if she or any of her sisters come back.”

The entire eviction had taken all of ten minutes, and then Belle and Gold were back in their van, on their way home - or to their next call out if something happened to come in during the journey. With more and more monsters, creatures and spirits turning up by the day, hunting was getting to be a lucrative career. 

“You know,” Belle said as they were driving along, “you can take the earmuffs off now.”

Gold touched the earmuffs that were hanging around his neck. 

“I think I’ve become rather attached to them, actually.”

Belle just leaned in to peck a kiss to his cheek. “I knew you would.”

She smiled as they continued to drive, chalking up both another successful eviction, and another successful conversion to the wonders of pink fluffy earmuffs. 

[greyfen]

Mithra 01: Looming Shadow

Been a long time since I posted any writing on here but in case there is anyone still interested in what I occasionally come up with these days, here is a bit of writing.  It’s from the perspective of Mithra Hyndell, an elven druid who I play in a D&D game on Sundays, this scene took place at the conclusion of the first arc the party experienced. After we’d gotten stuck in a house full of time magic, a vampire and a whole host of other weird shenanigans.  For context, Mithra is the last remaining (as far as she knows) druid of a place called the Verdant Thicket, a forest that has been overrun by some sort of magical corruption. At this point in the story she is working with the group in the hopes of speaking to the personal alchemist of the Queen of the kingdom they are in so as to find a lead on how to fix the Thicket.  For those wanting a read, enjoy! 

The walls felt as if they were closing in. 

Mithra wasn’t sure how she got here, it had sounded pretty simple: work with a few mercenaries or other interested parties, do a favour for the queen and in return gain the information that could help her home that she desperately needed. Instead, in a short period of time she’d been attacked by orcs, met a man claiming to be a god, visited an impossible mansion and got trapped in a vampire’s castle. 

For all her own pride in her abilities, she’d felt increasingly out of her depth since arriving at the town outside the estate of Lord Cartwright, the eternal night the vampire seemed to have conjured around the town and area, the tortured prisoners they’d found and escorted to safety and the bizarre time magic that kept everyone who spent too long on the estate trapped in some sort of loop; a fact they’d only recently discovered when electing to temporarily leave. It went entirely beyond her own experiences, she’d felt increasingly caged, something that the circle of the moon within her railed against in the back of her mind. It had taken a surprisingly understanding Nilsa to snap her back to reality earlier when she’d dropped into a panic; now she was here on the top floor, looking at the dead bodies of her friends. 

No, not my friends, some…  vision of the future perhaps. Gods this must be hard for them, how do you even comfort at times like this?

The smell of mold and decay hung in the air throughout the library, both musty books and the aroma of rotten flesh; the dead paladin’s skeleton was slumped against the wall, the ominous barred door led to the greenhouse and more bodies. The dark corridor their new companion refused to let go down altogether, shaking her head frantically when traversing it was suggested. Their new companion was an enigma too; an older version of their warrior friend Fiora, older, tired and worn, seemingly unable to speak or communicate beyond the written word and frantic gestures, the last survivor of a group that failed. 

That had died. 

Around them the ghosts of the Lady Celeste and her killers played out their repeated macabre performance, the same murders and fights over and over again, every hour. Even with all kinds of insanity around them, Lilli dashed off to a side room and Mithra intended to follow but found her eye resting upon a body in the greenhouse with the remains of Zenn, another companion. When she saw it, all thoughts of everything else deserted her mind as a creeping suspicion and fear began to gnaw at her chest. 

That figure; the garb looked elven, druidic even, but it wasn’t what she wore; as the wraiths wailed and argued she tuned them out, even the conversations and frantic questioning of this strange future version of Fiora failed to register as she looked the skeletal remains over. Patting down the body, gently at first, then more frantically as she became more and more sure that the body was not her own.

Another might have felt relief to avoid the sight of their own remains, but not Mithra. Death was not the worst thing that could bring an end to a druid from the Verdant Thicket. She found a token, a simple cast leaf denoting rank within her circle, but it wasn’t hers. 

A heavy weight set on her stomach as around her the ghosts played out their argument, the daughter and father who’d come here to save her, even if she didn’t want to be saved, the looting of the mob that accompanied him. To Mithra it was as the wind in the grass, of no importance and mere background noise as she made her way back to the older version of the tiefling she’d met only days ago.

She nodded at the paper in her friend’s hands, her eyes meeting Fiora’s directly, almost unblinkingly as she kept her voice level, Nilsa a spectator as the two women gazed at one another.

“Fiora, was that me in the greenhouse?” 

She already knew the answer as the older Fiora scribbled down something frantically on her paper before holding it up. 

‘NO���

“Am I dead? Is that why I’m not here?” 

A solemn nod was all she received in answer as the tall tiefling woman looked at her, eyes full of pity, loss and more, a sense of loneliness; Mithra was used to solitude, but the type she saw looking out of Fiora’s eyes chilled her. As much as she felt for this lost soul however she also felt the creeping dread rise from the pit of her stomach, like a weed, choking her level breathing as it came. 

“Did.. Did something take me? Is that why I’m not here?”

‘YES’

Nilsa looked on, concerned and confused and tired at the back and forth, opening her mouth as Mithra turned, her head spinning as her fears seemed almost confirmed. Walking, or was it staggering, five paces back towards the centre of the room. That sick feeling grew, reaching her lungs and biting down her fears she turned again. 

“Was it my home? Did the sickness, the curse of my home take me too?” 

A pause. 

‘YES’

After that, Mithra didn’t register a lot of what happened next, it was like everything happened at once, their friend of the future had been waiting, waiting for Lady Celeste and her father to be near the window and then threw both them and herself out of it. Ending the loop, the curse all of it; saving both herself and her friends, even if it wasn’t the same friends she’d been through hell with. In the aftermath, everyone took a moment to recover, but Mithra could stand to be in the house no longer. 

Catching Nilsa’s attention while the others took a few moments, Mithra smiled a pained mirthless smile that hid none of her internal torment. Her words tumbled out of her mouth at a rapid pace, uncertain and troubled; in her core fear had seized her heart and wouldn’t let go. 

“I.. I need outside, I can’t be in here, sorry but I have to breath fresh air. Or as fresh as it gets here.”

Nilsa looked at her and then said something that she didn’t expect, the steely gaze meeting her own. 

“That’s fine. I can come with you, if you need it.”

And Mithra said yes.

Minutes later Mithra was sitting on the grass, staring at the dark sky and opening up a part of her history and soul to the paladin beside her. She told her of her fellow druids, the curse that affected not just land and tree but animal; how the druids had feared that their connection to animals, to the forest might leave them vulnerable too. 

How it looked like at some point, she was going to turn into a monster if she did not find a way to negate its effects, find a way to save her home. 

Nilsa gripped her shoulder and promised to help her, a gesture from the taciturn paladin that was not lost on Mithra, but even in that moment a cold feeling settled inside the druid. 

Despair. 

She had no idea where to start, she was not powerful, she was not wise and she was out of her depth.

As the rest of the day passed she found herself buoyed by the others, their presence and made a silent vow to herself. In one world she had already failed, but she would not give up: she would fight tooth and claw until her last breath to save her home, to save the others, to save herself. 

[theatresweetheart]

Homeward Nightmares

Desperate Measures: Chapter 1

Fandoms: Sanders Sides, G/t

Summary: Logan suffers with nightmares of his time in a pet shop and Patton tries to help.

Warnings: Over-exhaustion, traumatic flashbacks, brief injury mention, blood mention, brief descriptions of blood, main character being treated like a pet, brief talk of death (being put to sleep), excessive swearing, fear, crying, panic attack.

Pairings: Romantic/Parental Logicality, Familial Moxiety, Familial Analogical

Word Count: 4686 words

Taglist: @isle-of-gold @anonymous-bean @sandersships @kaytikitty @picklesandbeyond @minty4green

A/n: For the taglist, I decided to just tag everyone that wanted to be tagged for the Desperate Measures story. If you want to be removed from/added to a certain taglist, shoot me an ask or a message and let me know! Otherwise, enjoy!

                                         +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

The ever insistent tapping on the metal bars rattled through this core. The snide looks he would get from the other side of the cage; large eyes that held a malice for him and his kind, smiles that did not reach the patrons’ eyes.

Smiles that were dangerous and sharp.

But the child that stood in front of him, while she didn’t look dangerous to the average human adult, was a threat to Logan’s safety.

Kids did not take lightly to borrowers, especially not when their parents didn’t seem to care much about teaching them manners and decency. Children saw borrowers as toys and things to be physically manipulated—like a doll or an action figure. Something inanimate and therefore, not sentient.

The girl had entered the store about ten minutes ago and she had immediately searched for something in particular. It wasn’t until she was standing in front of Logan’s cage had he realized she was there for him. Or, if not him personally, then for Arthur who was quietly rocking himself back and forth on the other side of the enclosure.

She raised a hand and tapped at the bars again, trying to gain his attention. Logan stayed resolute with his back turned to her, but he could still feel her eyes digging into his back. The heat of the look she was giving him.

When the borrower stayed sitting, his knees curled up to his chest and his head ducked down, she relented for a moment. The thundering footsteps falling away behind him.

At this, he turned his head, watching as she went to tug at her father’s suit jacket. The man in question seemed to have his head bent forwards and his eyes glued directly to his phone as if it were the most important thing in the world. However, with a look like that, Logan could tell that this was the kind of man was that was ready to buy his way out of a problem if something went awry.

He wasn’t going to be bothered with her or her father until he saw that she was pointing in his direction.

He couldn’t hear their conversation, but he had an itching feeling that he knew what exactly she wanted.

The father had then turned to the shopkeeper after that, asking about something or other. The conversation was too distant for Logan to be able to make out what exactly they were saying but with the devilish grin the girl sent back over her shoulder, he knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“This is it,” Arthur mumbled to himself, his head in his hands as he kept rocking himself back and forth, as if he was trying to calm himself down.

Any conversation that he tried to have with the other male usually ended up with Arthur in some sort of anxiety-induced fit. One would have thought that Logan would have been better with that sort of reaction as his own son had suffered through the same thing, just in different circumstances.

Seemed that being away from them for four months had already taken a toll on his emotional well-being.

“We’re going to die here,” Arthur continued to bellyache and moan.

No, Logan wasn’t going to die here.

He wasn’t about to just kneel and keel over. Not when he had so much riding on getting out of this damned place.

It wasn’t long before the shopkeeper was coming over, the little girl and her father trailing behind. The keys jangled in their hand and the lock on the cage was undone before he could even think to say something.

“C’mere Logan,” the shopkeeper said in a condescending tone as they pulled the door open, before lowering themselves down to kneel with their hand palm up in front of the opening. “Little Eliza here would like to hold you.”

“Get lost,” he shot back, brown eyes sharp and distrusting.

The shopkeeper sighed, rubbing their free hand down their face. “I don’t want to play these games today, just be good for once and come here.”

Logan sneered at that, rolled his shoulders and deliberately turned his back to the three humans.

“Is he always like this?” The father asked, but he sounded more distracted and uninterested than he actually was.

“Unfortunately,” the shopkeeper replied, “Eliza, would you like to hold Arthur instead? He is better behaved.”

“No,” the girl said suddenly, with such vigor that it startled Logan. “I want him, not the other one. The other one looks like a nervous wreck.”

A quick glance over to the other borrower did solidify that truth. He really did look like a nervous wreck, shaking and shivering and muttering to himself.

“Logan,” the shopkeeper raised their voice again, trying to sound more authoritative. Like that had ever worked in the past. “Come here. Don’t make me reach in there and grab you.”

That wasn’t even a threat anymore.

“Allow me, sir,” Eliza said in that mock innocent voice.

Logan turned to look over his shoulder when the shopkeeper gave a surprised noise and the young man was instead welcomed with the sight of a hand coming directly for him. A startled yelp escaped him without his permission as the childish hand got far too close to him for comfort and he raised an arm as if that would defend him.

Of course he was disappointed when the girl’s hand wrapped around his form anyways, beginning to lift him off of the cage floor without a problem. As if he wasn’t a full grown man.

Vertigo hit far too soon and he was pulled out from inside of what had, sadly, become a safety net. While many people had stared in and pointed and laughed, no one had been able to touch and grab him before.

He was pulled up in a fist that was far too tight, that shoved his arms painfully into his sides, so much so that he knew he would have bruises by this evening.

“Gentle with him, kid,” the shopkeeper said, noticing the grimace on the smaller features, “he’s not as strong as you.”

“I’m being gentle,” Eliza lied through her teeth, that shark-like grin never leaving her features as she examined the borrower in her hands. “He just doesn’t know what it’s like to be held.”

“I shouldn’t have to know what that’s like,” Logan hissed up at her and she squeezed a bit tighter, shoving the wind from his lungs.

“Pets shouldn’t talk back, that’s what my always daddy says.”

“Very good, darling,” her father mused, scrolling through something on his phone before beginning to tap away at the screen.

While the shopkeeper did look initially worried about Logan’s well-being, they weren’t doing much to change the situation either. There was a lot that they could do to the kid, such as making her put him down. Making sure that she didn’t squeeze the life from him without meaning to—or completely meaning to, whatever her intentions with him were.

“Let me go,” Logan’s voice was hoarse from lack of a proper supply of air being taken in, but it wouldn’t stop him from making demands. Not when his safety was on the line.

Eliza giggled again, shaking her head and using her thumb to stroke up and down his back in a rough and careless motion, obviously trying to cause him discomfort. “Pets also aren’t allowed to make demands, my daddy says that too.”

Logan grit his teeth, frustration nipping at him. “Let. Me. Go,” he enunciated this time, as if he thought she didn’t understand him the first time.

He was trying to stay as calm as possible, as losing his temper was something that wasn’t going to help him at all in this situation, but he was so close. So fucking close to doing something he knew he would regret afterwards—not in terms of feeling bad, he couldn’t care less about the human child and her ridiculous feelings, but for the punishment that would be sure to follow instantly afterwards.

Eliza only shook her head, making her stroking motions a bit more painful and prominent. “Borrowers like you shouldn’t be talking back to their owners,” her eyes sharpened. “Daddy, can I have it?”

‘It.’

‘Can I have it.’

That was fucking it.

“Whatever you want darling,” the father said.

Logan’s eyes scanned the three humans and he was pleasantly surprised when he noticed how none of them were focused on him, far too busy with each other. Which gave him more of a chance. With those words shoving an icy knife into his stomach, he needed to make a split second decision. After a moment of deliberation and desperation and his survival instincts taking over, he—albeit hesitantly—bit down into the girl’s hand and held.

His nose wrinkled when he felt the hot rush of blood flood into his mouth and suddenly all he could taste was metallic and thick.

“Ouch!” Came the cry from the female and before long, her hand snapped open from its locked position around his form and, without anything keeping him upright, Logan was dropped back onto the tabletop where his cage was. “It bit me!”

“Disgraceful,” the father snorted, “keep that thing away from my daughter. You should put it down for biting an innocent child.”

“Innocent my ass,” Logan snarled, pushing himself up onto his elbows while his torso groaned at him in agony, before raising a hand to wipe the remnants of blood from the edges of his mouth. “Your hellish child could have killed me.”

“It would have been no loss,” the man spat back, picking his daughter up as she wailed and held her hand close to herself. “I demand something to make up for this tragedy.”

The shopkeeper, who had been frozen in their surprise, quickly gathered Logan up into their hands. “O-of course, sir, I’m so sorry! He’s never done something like that before, I didn’t think he would—”

“I don’t care about what you thought and what you didn’t think, I want something to compensate for the pain that it put my daughter through. You can start by getting her a band-aid.”

“O-of course, sir.”

The shopkeeper’s attention fluttered down to the borrower in their hand and Logan just glared right back up at them, brown eyes so full of hatred and fury that shone through chocolate brown bangs. Almost as if he was challenging them to do something to him.

“You are in so much trouble for this,” the shopkeeper said then, as Eliza and her father decided to browse the rest of the pet shop for something of better interest that wouldn’t end up biting her. “It’s going to be a world of hurt for you.”

“I fucking dare you,” was what they got back in response.

It was a challenge. Logan was challenging them to do something to him and they hadn’t thought that far ahead. They hadn’t expected Logan to say anything at all—in fact, they had sort been hoping that the borrower would be sulking like he usually did in his cage. Not this time, it seemed. This time he was ready to fight them every step of the way.

Though, when the shopkeeper’s eyes hardened on him, Logan finally felt something stir within him. The dangerous, cold look he was getting in return. A calculating stare he was used to giving, but not used to receiving.

“Maybe I will get you put down for this. That way, you’ll never get to see your family again. They’d never know what happened to you. And it would teach you not to mess with those that have such power over you. It would be your last mistake.”

The words hit him like nothing else had before. They sat like a heavy rock in his chest and anything about defying the shopkeeper that had wormed its way into him was gone.

————

Logan woke up in a cold sweat.

The taste of something metallic was overwhelming.

He blinked, panicked, trying to figure out where he was. The pitch black, save for the tiny bit of light seeping in from just above him, was making it hard to correspond that he was safe. It was hard to recognize what was surrounding him when he couldn’t see.

The blankets under his hands felt weighted and cold, thick and scratchy.

There was also a warmth beside him, a tired voice mumbling something, but Logan needed to get out. He needed out. He needed to get out.

He couldn’t do this.

He could not do this.

Unable to calm himself down quick enough, he threw off the blankets and sat up, using a hand to push his hair out of his face before reaching blindly for his glasses. It took a couple tries, but he managed to find them. 

The sound of someone shifting behind him made the young man stand up, twisting to face someone that he hadn’t wanted to ever see again.

Bright, sharp, sadistic green eyes looked right back at him and Logan’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Maybe I should get you put down for this.”

Cold.

He was so cold. The look that he was getting from the other made him step back, eyes wide and terrified.

“It would be your last mistake.”

Hot.

The room was so hot. When had it gotten so warm? The thundering of his heart in his chest was the only thing Logan could focus on. Not the panting breaths, not the blood he could hear rushing in his ears.

Not the taste of blood in his mouth.

“Your family? Please. They’d never know what happened to you.”

He couldn’t breathe, his chest was tight and his mind was blank. Everything was blurring around him, the terror that seized his wrists was real and electric. Hot and cold all at the same time.

“Logan?” The voice didn’t match the features he was seeing, but his mind was in far too much of a frenzy to actually register who was saying it. The panic that just seemed so instinctual was far outweighing his rational thought. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Eliza was right there. Standing outside the bars of his enclosure and he had no hope of getting out of this mess alive. Not when she had been so upset the first time. He didn’t remember getting caught again. Or, no, maybe he hadn’t been caught again. He had never truly gotten back home in the first place. Everything had been far too good for that.

A human that cared? A borrower that trusted said human? Getting to actually hold Patton and Virgil again? It must have been some sick trick. His mind was playing games on him in his grief.

Using tactile hallucinations to torture him.

“Don’t come any closer,” he warned, his voice breaking.

He tried to sound demanding but it came out as more of a withered, desperate plead.

“Pets don’t make demands.”

But they weren’t listening to him. The movements, while sluggish and tired and obviously weighed down by the late night, had slowed down considerably. Almost as if she didn’t know what to do.

Though, they still came closer to him. Logan matched it instantly with a step backwards. Every time the person in front of him came closer, he tried to put more space between them. Before long, Logan had his back pressed against the wall. 

He was cornered.

The hands then raised and were held up in a position that he recognized as a sign of surrender, which made no sense. Eliza had been far too persistent to leave him alone. She always had that sadistic grin on her features as her fingers had wrapped around his form, threatening to squeeze the life from him. To bruise and to tease and to taunt like he wasn’t a person with emotions or morals or sentience.

There was the ghost of her tight hold, compressing and forcing shorter breaths in and out. His panic was not helping the situation in the least.

He felt himself go weak in the knees and he slumped against the wall, staring up at the person in front of him with terror. The only emotion he was coherent enough to summon forward.

“Logan, you need to breathe,” the voice said again and the vision flickered between two vastly contrasting scenes.

There was the pet store in all its glory. The loud chirping from the other animals and the tinkling from that stupid bell above the door. Eliza, her father and the shopkeeper standing on the other side of him, all looking smug and victorious.

But then, the other scene was relatively relaxing. It was dark. He was back home. Patton was kneeling in front of him. Dark curls falling in front of tired features but soft gentle eyes pleading for him to relax. For a different reaction than what he was getting.

“Look at me,” the tone pleaded again and Logan shook his head.

“Don’t ignore me, Logan. You’re in no place to be making demands.”

“Can’t,” he choked out finally, his eyes squeezing shut as tears flooded forward, the echoing of the past six months were loud bells, ringing and chiming. Sharp reminders of what he had gone through.

There was too much going on. Eliza was taunting him, the shopkeeper was using this weakness against him. The moment he looked up would be the moment he let those damned humans win. He couldn’t let them win. He couldn’t let them break him.

The moment he broke would be the moment he lost his only chance to go back home.

He would lose everything.

A gentle breath was released in front of him. “Yes you can,” the voice was quiet, reassuring. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His shoulders were bunched, hands shaking as they stayed firmly pressed against the floor, trying to keep himself as far from the person in front of him as he could.

In what seemed like forever—possibly only ten seconds or so—Logan felt the presence get closer to him. He could feel their warmth, but in all honestly, he was too scared to open his eyes for a few different reasons.

If he were to look, it would leave no barrier between his un-shed tears and the person in front of him, thus causing him to lose any progress he had made with them by proving he was emotionless. Humans could use that information to manipulate you. He couldn’t show that weakness. He didn’t have an Achilles heel.

The other reason was that he was terrified to see Eliza again. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not anymore.

Before he could say anything, he felt the person grab him by the hand. A loving touch. A tender grasp that said more than words could. Logan had initially flinched at the sudden, somewhat unwelcome, contact.

This was a touch that he knew. A touch that he could trust.

A sob jumped in his chest as soon as reality set back in and almost immediately, the presence grew far closer.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, after convincing himself that he was fine—he was completely safe, nothing was going to happen to him—he saw Patton’s sad eyes, but it wasn’t just that. It was more than that. It was concern, grief and unsaid words. Whispers that neither of them had the heart to say to each other.

All within a second, Logan was being tugged into the sweet embrace of his husband, a hand pressed against the back of his head and keeping him safe. He was safe.

It wasn’t long before the one sob turned into two, then three, then four. And then they didn’t stop.

Logan reacted before his mind had caught up to him, but his hands dug into the back of Patton’s shirt, hiding his face into the crook between his neck and shoulder and just sobbing. Heaving, in and out without time or pace.

“Shh, shh,” Patton soothed him quietly, letting his free hand stroke up and down Logan’s back, shifting and rubbing circles instead. It went between both motions a couple times, but never was it unpredictable. “You’re okay, I’m right here. Everything is okay.”

It was painful, seeing him like this. So broken and scared. Nightmares had never really happened before Logan had been captured. They had been present from time to time, sure, but not to this extreme. Not to the extreme that one hallucinated someone else in the room with them.

Or to physically see the threat.

Or to physically feel the threat.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped quietly, sniffling as the tears finally began to slow down. He tried to regain his composure. “I— I shouldn’t have…”

“Don’t apologize, Logan,” Patton didn’t pull back from the embrace until he felt Logan shifting. He didn’t want to take the comfort away too soon if Logan wasn’t ready to lose it. “It was a nightmare and you can’t prevent those. Don’t apologize for reacting the way you did. It’s okay.”

Once he felt him shifting, Patton allowed himself to pull back but he didn’t release Logan fully. He reached up, removing Logan’s glasses and setting them to the side before using the sleeve of his night shirt to wipe the water away to the best of his ability.

They sat in silence for a couple minutes, Logan allowing Patton to clean him up without fighting back or complaining, whether teasingly or seriously, at the mother hen-like actions.

Sitting in the peace and quiet of each other was only going to last (and help) for so long. After another moment of quiet deliberation, Patton was speaking—softly and with no sense of pressure—again;

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

The request was innocent, Logan knew that, but he shook his head. He really did not want to relive the past ten minutes so early in the morning.

Patton sighed quietly, before nodding. “Alright. Think you can get back to sleep?”

That was something he was less sure about, but it seemed there was no true harm in trying. He was exhausted, that much was obvious. Emotionally and physically drained.

“Yeah.”

There was an understanding shared between them and Patton handed Logan his glasses. There was that lingering heaviness in the air, but it was going to be like that for a while anyhow.

Trauma lingered and continually affected one’s day to day life. To expect Logan to just immediately heal because he was home would be absurd and irrational.

No matter how much it hurt Patton’s heart to see him loved one so distressed, the only thing he could do was support him. Ease him through the nightmares and continually prove himself a worthy and safe presence.

Without saying anything else and just as Patton was beginning to stand, the lightest knock from their bedroom door caught their attention. Virgil stood in the doorway, his over sized hoodie draped over his shoulders as he held tightly to a blanket like it was a tether. The little one also had his sleeve stuck in his mouth, a nervous habit.

Logan belatedly realized that it was the blanket he had made the boy for his fourth birthday.

The two adults watched as the little boy’s eyes moved between them, obviously reading the situation. They seemed to grow even sadder when what was happening registered. 

Virgil was incredibly perceptive, which was admittedly an important trait in a borrower, but this only proved how much harder it was to hide things from him. Especially when he knew what to look for.

“Hey kid,” Logan croaked, his voice was practically gone by this point in the night. He raised a hand and waved as an invitation for Virgil to come in.

As soon as he had been given permission, Virgil immediately went to his fathers and sunk down to his knees, crawling into Logan’s arms and letting himself be held.

While it was reassuring and comforting for Virgil, Logan also felt better. Being able to hold his son so close, to cradle him in his arms. To feel the rise and fall of his breaths and the light patter of his heartbeat. It was solidifying the idea that he was truly back home, that this wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him.

His hold tightened unconsciously on the kid and Virgil responded by holding tighter to his father.

It was almost as if Logan was trying to shield Virgil from the horrors that he had seen. The horrors of the human world and their disgusting wants and needs. His son would never see that side of humanity, not if he had anything to say about. The most that Virgil would see would be the students that attended the University—at least the students only complained about midterms, homework and early mornings.

The third hand that suddenly appeared on Logan’s back surprised him slightly, but he leaned into the touch as well.

He was safe and the images he had seen were just that; images.

He did feel a twinge in his chest when he realized what had brought Virgil in here in the first place. It meant that Logan’s panic had been loud enough to wake him, even with his room down the hall. But the genuine concern that the boy had to come and see if he was doing okay was kind. Certainly something that Virgil had picked up from Patton, undoubtedly.

Patton stroked his fingers through Virgil’s hair a couple times, watching as he just seemed to melt into Logan’s embrace, the tired features were hidden in his shoulder.

“Let’s get you two back to bed, hmm?”

Logan’s eyes turned to Patton as his husband smiled lightly, sadly but genuine. He could agree that getting to bed would be the most logical course of action, as it certainly was not the time to be awake.

Patton pushed himself off of his knees and Logan was soon to follow, however a bit slower as he tried not to shift Virgil too much. He wasn’t sure if the kid was asleep or not, but he didn’t want to disturb him either way. Then there was the task of getting him back to bed.

As the blanket slid from Virgil’s hand, Logan was quick to attempt to get it before Patton picked it up for him.

“Mm,” the voice from his shoulder mumbled quietly. “Papa?”

Logan hummed in response, showing that he was listening. “Yes, Virgil?”

Virgil shifted his head a little bit, enough so that he could see the underside of his father’s jaw. “Can I stay here with you and Dad tonight?”

Logan didn’t even have to look at Patton to know the answer to that. “Of course you can,” he adjusted him a little bit more, so he could hold onto him a bit more comfortably and securely.

The bed that they had was big enough for three people, especially when one of those three was a six-year-old boy.

After a bit of readjusting the bed—since Logan had nearly torn it apart in his panic to get away—he set Virgil down beside Patton and immediately, Virgil clung onto him.

The sight was what gave him pause. It was what made him stop for a minute and really see just how lucky he was to be there in that moment.

To see his boys curled up together, safe and comfortable.

The grin that twitched the edges of his lips was genuine. Pulling his glasses off and setting them off to the side, Logan pulled at the comforter before slipping underneath as well. He wrapped his arms around both Virgil and Patton and tugged them both closer to him.

Logan was insanely lucky to be back home. He had watched countless others get adopted from the same cage he had been in, shared brief farewells with other borrowers who were never seen again. The thought was heavy and uncomfortable, but being able to say he was alive.

To be able to say that he was home.

That was what mattered the most.

[teffyjeffy]

Fabric Tears (Part 3)

NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

PART 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

With the sudden task to redecorate the dining room for a tea party materializing in front of everyone, an aura of calmness had settled within the Corduroy household, much to Wendy's relief, Mabel's joy, and Dipper's confusion.

First off, the winter garb finally came off, now that there was no longer the threat of a bear running away while the coats were being removed. Dan was more than happy to house them in the closet located near the entrance. The closet, which originally was only keeping plaid colored jackets in there, now had a splash of color with the trio's coats added to the rack. 

The three Corduroy brothers returned in record time with a box of Candyleaf, and whole bunch of other boxes of tea flavors. They all talked over each other with excitement, talking about how the ghostly couple were so thankful for the boy's good manners that they were allowed to the other boxes for free. Dan roared with good natured laughter and got a second kettle of water boiling.

Wendy and Mabel were taking turns between keeping an eye on Mr. SnuggleLots and setting the table up. Mabel made sure to throw a bunch of cute stickers on the tea cups. Wendy taught the bear how to play card games, and thankfully, cards were not in Mr. SnuggleLots's diet.

Dipper and Frisk were taking a break, sitting at the bottom steps of the stairway and watching Mabel, Wendy, and everyone else running around and transforming the dining room into a top quality tea set for Mabel's wild tea party plan. Dipper and Frisk were also using this opportunity to keep an eye on the pets, with Dipper holding onto Waddles, and Frisk giving lovely head scritches to Toby

"Back in the summer, I bet I would've chopped the poor bear's head off by this point or something," joked Dipper.

"I have a feeling you would've faced some resistance from Mabel if you tried that," replied Frisk, holding the torn scarf in their hands and making sure that Toby was far away enough to not consider biting it.

Dipper laughed, setting Waddles down to give himself a moment to stretch his arms. "Yeah, probably. Still though... I don't know if she would have come to this crazy conclusion to throw a tea party if she hadn't met you. Maybe instead, she'd have... pfft, I dunno, encased him in ice and shipped him off to the North Pole?"

"It feels like any scenario is possible if Mabel is behind it," teased Frisk.

"Just her, huh? Sounds like someone's picking favorites," laughed Dipper, giving the child ambassador a playful shove on the shoulder.

"Maybe I am~ Are you willing to prove to me that you are the sibling who's worth more of my attention than your sister?"

"Ohhhhhh no, don't go there. Last time Mabel and I had that kind of dispute, things got... pretty ridiculous. I've hated carpets ever since..."

"If you're going to continue being secret about your stories, you should stop hooking people in like that. I was all down for letting your story remain untold, and then you bring up this sudden hatred for carpets? You have captivated me, Dipper."

The stairway softly echoed with the barks of Toby, the snorts of Waddles, and the chuckles of Dipper and Frisk... when another sound made its way to Dipper's ears.

It sounded like... sobbing. From upstairs.

"Everything okay, Dipper?" asked Frisk with a tilt of the head. "You got awfully quiet."

"I'm going to check up on Toriel. Call me if Mabel needs me," Dipper suddenly declared, making his way up the stairs.

"Huh? Dipper, wait-" began Frisk, but Dipper was already gone. Giving a sigh of uncertainty, Frisk resumed watching the rest of the group set up the table while the pets messed around.

Dipper was able to find Wendy's room pretty quickly, having memorized to route to get there, which he was embarrassed to admit. Without thinking, we twisted the knob and opened the door.

"Toriel, what's wrong? I heard... sobbing..........."

The room was almost completely dark, the only light source in the room coming from the paused image on Wendy's television. And there, sitting on Wendy's bed, legs folded and drawn in to her chest, was Toriel; her eyes were puffy and red, there was a prominent trail of tears on both of her cheeks. Even Papyrus could have deduced that the Ex-Queen had been crying.

Not wanting to stare, Dipper shifted his attention to the television set. The image on the screen appeared to be a home recording of some sort, the kind taken with a big vintage video camera. The background depicted a well maintained house with a wooden floor and fireplace. In the foreground...

There was a little goat kid, eyes wide with wonder, and tears welling up at the bottom of those eyes. He had white soft-looking fur, a tinge of pink to his cheeks, and just... the purest smile that Dipper had ever seen. Pure enough to rival Mabel's 1000-watt grins.

Toriel's yelp of shock jolted Dipper back to the present moment.

"Dipper! I- I wasn't- that is, I didn't... I didn't anticipate that anybody would need me so soon-"

"Nonono, it's my fault, I... I thought you were in trouble and I came running in-"

They both eventually stopped talking over one another and a thick silence fell on them.

"...........I- I'll go-" Dipper started.

"No, it's-" began Toriel, her voice hitching.

...

Toriel continued. "Frisk has... told me about you. How your curiosity tends to drive you."

"Well um... it's not something I'm proud of exactly... but yeah, I'd say that description fits me."

The awkward silence returned, but this time the intensity was a little lighter.

Dipper was the one to break it this time. "Listen, you don't need to tell me anything, my curiosity should not be a factor in this-"

"I appreciate that, Dipper. But let's be honest. If I had you leave now, things will be awkward afterwards, and they'll stay awkward for who knows how long. I.... I might as well tell you, now that you've already seen it."

For one last moment, silence filled the room, the only audible sound being the buzz of the old television set.

"......please come in," finished Toriel.

Not a word was spoken as Dipper warily entered Wendy's room and shut the door behind him, submerging the room in near-total darkness once more, minus the light shining from the TV. Toriel looked down to the floor. She said nothing, but slowly lifted the paw that held the remote... and hit 'play.'

"M-mom?! You made this for me?! It's gigantic! I want it! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT!!!"

"Ha ha ha ha! I know, it looks delicious, doesn't it! But that's no excuse to forget your manners. How do you ask for things that you want, my child?"

"Mom, may I please eat the cake?"

"Nope!"

"What?!!!? B-but you said... you said that I-!"

"Aha ha ha ha! I'm just teasing you my child! Before I can let you dig in though, your father and I need to sing for you!"

"That song again?? You sing it every year though, ha ha!"

"Maybe. But it is a tradition~ And it's worth singing for you, my bundle of sunshine~"

"Stoppit mommmmmm! You're embarrassing me!"

"Hush now, little one~ And close your eyes~"

The image suddenly went dark, and Dipper realized that the lights had been switched off in the household... then the screen lit up again, by candles being lit on the cake. The light gave the goat child a very calming orange glow. He looked so... happy.

"Okay! You can open them now!"

And he did. Dipper watched him gasp... somehow, the goat child's smile managed to get even bigger.

"♫Happy Birthday to you ♫..........♫Happy Birthday to you♫.......... ♫Happy Birthday dear-"

"Asriel" mouthed Dipper.

His lips had moved before his brain, or heart, or even his voice could process it. But he just knew. This was him. This... was Asriel. The child that Frisk had tried to save... and lost.

Dipper vaguely noted that at some point, tears had welled up in his eyes and they were currently trailing down his cheeks.

"...Happy Birthday tooooooo yooouuuuuuuuu~♫ Make a wish, little one!"

The video went still again. Dipper looked up to see that Toriel had hit the remote's pause button once more, the small box silently trembling in her paw. She dropped the remote, buried her face in her tear-stained sleeves, and let out the most gut wrenching wail that Dipper had ever heard. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her. And bless her heart, she let him.

"He.......... he was everything..." whimpered Toriel after what felt like hours of weeping in Dipper's arms. "He was full of life... every day was filled with his cries and his laughter... the plan was when he was old enough to become a prince, we were going to surprise him with a throne that was just... covered with honey suckles. Asriel always... always loved those honey suckles..."

Dipper could not say a word. What could he say? He had never endured the loss of a loved one. He came awfully close to losing Mabel at the hands of him, but unlike Toriel, Dipper got lucky. He had his great uncles to thank for protecting him and his sister. But it appeared that Toriel did not have such luck...

Toriel sniffled. "You remember earlier when Mabel said she was willing to share her candy with the coolest mom to ever walk the earth, right Dipper?"

"I remember."

She gave a sad laugh. "Well... this is the day when I remember how lousy of a mother I was. I should have seen the signs. I should have stopped him... and I didn't. I'm no cool mother. I'm not even a good one... I... I was powerless, Dipper."

All Dipper could do was tighten the hug. Nothing could be said. Toriel Dreemurr was going through something that Dipper could never fathom, and part of him hoped that he would never come to learn it.

      There was suddenly a gentle creeeeeeeeeaaaaaaak that shook the two out of their hug.

It was Frisk.

Nobody said anything for a while. All that could be heard was the clinking and clattering of silverware downstairs.

"...The tea is ready," finally spoke Frisk. "Mabel is expecting all of us to attend. I can let her know if you need more time th-"

Toriel shook her head. "N-no, I'm alright. You said tea is ready?"

"Yes, correct," affirmed Frisk. They watched as Toriel remained tense. They gave a quick glance to the television screen, before looking back to their mother.

"...The plan was to talk once this was all over, correct?" said Frisk reassuringly. "I'll tell you everything then, I promise. But first, I'd like to have some tea. Mabel will be furious if anyone lets their cup get cold."

"R-right... Yes... Yes of course," said Toriel, standing up from the bed and dusting herself off. "Tell Mabel I'll be right down."

"Yes Mom," said Frisk with a hint of a smile, disappearing from view as they climbed back down the stairs.

"Well... I'll see you downstairs Dipper," said Toriel, wiping her eyes. "Mind shutting the TV off for me?"

"I don't mind at all, Toriel. See you down there," said Dipper with a wave, watching as Toriel disappeared from his view.

There was... a lot to process from that exchange. But it would have to wait for now. Dipper reached forward to press the TV's on/off switch...

...when something on the monitor caught his eye.

The dim background made it hard to see, but Dipper swore that there, sitting in a chair, was another child.

A human child.

...

Dipper hit 'play.'

"I wish that I can stay best friends forever with-!"

"Oh come on Asriel, you wished for that last year. Wish for something else this time, sheesh."

"Hey! That was rude!" said Asriel, seeming to be both shocked and tickled by the remark. "You're such a meanie sometimes, Cha-"

And then there was static. The videotape had reached its end.

                ...

Filled with questions that he knew he'd have to wait until the right moment to ask about, Dipper turned the TV off and finally left Wendy's room.

Dipper was met with a very lively spectacle.

Dan was pouring cup after cup of various tea flavors, handing them to Mabel and Wendy (both wearing heat resistant gloves) who fanned out to place each cup in front of 11 different seats at the dining room table. Toriel had already sit herself down at one of the seats, but had opted to wait until everyone was seated before she began sipping her tea. Toby and Waddles were running around underneath the table, darting under some chairs and darting around others. The boys and Frisk were gathered in the living room, Frisk eagerly listening to a story that Marcus was telling about how he once managed get himself a gigantic fish from the lake (while Kevin and Gus acted it out in the background to hype up the tale) and all four of them were smiling and laughing. Sitting at the end of the table, his beady eyes taking in the entire scene, was Mr. SnuggleLots.

"Dipper! Welcome back!" said Mabel as she noticed her awestruck brother. She walked up to him and took him by the hands. "Welcome to the tea party! Your seat is right over here next to Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't worry, he hasn't been biting anything since he ate my half of Papyrus's scarf. Come on, this way!"

Dipper let himself be guided by Mabel as she sat him down at his seat. Now that he was at the table, he noticed all of them had a designated name. Starting from Dan's seat, and working clockwise, the seats were as follows.

Daniel

Marcus

Gus

Kevin

Toriel

Frisk

Mabel

Mr. SnuggleLots

Dipper

Wendy

Francine

...Francine? Who was-?

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE!" Hollered Dan, clinking a glass so hard that it sounded like swords clashing. "THE TEA PARTY HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN! THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING, AND ON BEHALF OF THE MABEL PINES ORGANIZATION-"

"Yes my friends, that is actually a thing!!!" piped Mabel.

"-WE HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY YOUR TIME HERE! NOW, DRINK UP!"

Everybody swarmed the table, plopping down in their designated seats and engaging in lively conversation. The Corduroys, minus Wendy, clashed their mugs together like they were beer mugs, then blew on their cups and gently sipped on them because they were actually hot mugs of tea, not cold jugs of beer. Toriel was giggling as Frisk had managed to get roped into another story that Mabel was telling to Mr. SnuggleLots, whose reactions were proving that he could always understand English like Dipper hypothesized. Looking elsewhere, the boy was pleased to notice that Toriel was looking more and more like her old self, and Wendy seemed to be lighting up from the calm but animated gathering. Dipper couldn't help but smile, happy to see that Wendy was starting to recover from her frustration from the recent lack of sleep.

But in the midst of this discussion, Dipper noticed that the seat of Francine was still vacant.

"Wondering about the empty seat, kiddo?" Wendy spoke up, Dipper tearing his gaze away from the seat to look at her.

"Um... y-yeah I suppose," said Dipper, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. "Is it..."

"A seat for my mom? I'm afraid so, champ," said Wendy, giving a gentle smile and taking a hearty sip of her tea now that it had cooled down enough. "Francine Corduroy. Better known by her nickname, Manly Fran."

Dipper looked down, not knowing how to reply. As he looked up, he saw Toriel on the other side. She appeared to have overheard the conversation.

"Manly Fran?" repeated Dipper.

"Yep, believe it or not, my dad was always a fan of tea time. His masculine attitude was a rather late addition. It's how he makes sure that her legacy lives on, I suppose. Though I bet that most of what he does nowadays would just make my Mom howl."

"Did she enjoy tea?" Toriel blurted, before putting a paw to her mouth. It seems she didn't mean to speak out loud.

"Oh she loved it, especially if Dad was the one who made it," Wendy gave a warm laugh. "Her adoration for it is the reason my dad didn't abandon it when she passed..." she takes her napkin and gently dabs at her eyes. "It's our way of honoring her. We do this every memorial. It is... one of my favorite nights every year. It's cool that we managed to find an excuse to do it tonight, but... it just wouldn't feel right to have it without that one empty seat, even if this one isn't for her, you know?"

"I assume that the atmosphere here is... a lot less lively during the day of her passing..." Toriel's voice quivered near the end.

"Oh, you couldn't be further from the truth," snorted Wendy in laughter. "If anything, tonight's positive vibes are subdued compared to the anniversary of her passing. The whole day is filled with stories, memories, laughs, and endless tea for anyone who asked for it. I know it seems backwards to be that jovial during a day of remembrance for a dead family member who was a part of all of our lives- and don't get me wrong, there is a fair share of crying as well- but hey... if we're gonna remember her every year, we all knew that it would be better, and healthier in the long run, to fill the day with as many smiles as there are tears."

Wendy tilted her eyes towards the ceiling. She gave a kiss to the air, gestured her mug to it, and finished the rest of her tea. "Ahhhhhh..."

"That's... that's incredible," said Toriel, wiping her eyes.

"Oh, the tea was cold enough at this point," Wendy assured. "If it was fresh from the kettle, there's no way that-"

"No, I mean... the way your family honors your late mother. It's....... I've never thought of it that way. 'As many smiles as there are tears...'"

"Words straight from my Old Lady," said Wendy, leaning back in her seat.

Toriel looked down, silent. She witnessed her reflection in the steaming liquid. She managed a smile. "Wise words to be sure. I would've loved to meet her."

"She would've loved to meet everyone here," said Wendy with a courteous smirk, before heading out of her seat to quickly pour herself a second mug.

The topic of Francine drifted off soon after, and eventually everyone was back to jovial discussions that were occasionally sprinkled with a bark or a yip. All the while, the smile on Mr. SnuggleLots's face never wavered.

About an hour and a half passed before the mood died down enough to declare that the table should be cleared off. The kids had reconvened to discuss the night.

"I guess we managed to check off almost all the boxes on your Rehabiliteddy Program™, Mabel," said Frisk.

"Oh right, I forgot that that program had multiple steps," said Dipper, proving that Mabel had relied on this program before.

"Right... we still have no idea if this guy has an owner out looking for him," reminded Mabel.

"Or whether or not the owner ever want's him back," cautioned Frisk.

"Or even whether or not the owner is a human, or a bear, or something else entirely," added Dipper.

The kids went silent, stewing in all the questions that were unanswered.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Everybody in the house froze. Toby started growling at the front door. 

"Helloooo?!" came a muffled, ragged voice of an elder woman from the other side of the door. "Pardon the disturbance! I just need to know if something passed this way! A Teddy bear to be specific! One that's alive, to be more specific!"

The kids shared a glance at Mr. SnuggleLots who was being playfully tossed around by the Corduroy brothers. Did the voice truly belong to the bear's owner?

Frisk shimmered orange for a second, deciding that there was only one way to find out. "I'll get the door."

"Wait, hang on a second, Frisk-!" tried Dipper.

But Frisk had already marched toward the door and opened it.

On the other side was a heavily hunching, stubby old woman. Her skin was heavily wrinkled and had a sickly green complexion. Her hair was gray to the point of looking white, and there was a cobweb or two that was nestled in her shabby locks. And she was wearing a tattered cloak that was decorated with two giant shadows of disembodied hands.

"Hand Witch!!!" cheered Mabel, recognizing the kind hag.

"Well welllllllllll! If it isn't the lady who helped redecorate my caaaaaaave!" dragged the delighted witch. "And the boy as welllllllll! Good to see you!!! I don't recognize the kid in the striped sweater though..."

"Wait, the Hand Witch?" said Wendy, cocking an eyebrow in bafflement. "I thought you were just some myth that Stanley cooked up to sell his overpriced molds of decapitated hands."

"Nope, he and I go way back!" said the Hand Witch proudly. "Thanks to the kind metal-teethed lady, I finally know what it's like to have a sweet heart!"

"You have a boyfriend!!?" squealed Mabel in excitement, slapping her hands to her cheeks.

"Hm? Oh no, he broke things off with me weeks ago," explained the Hand Witch, cheerfully adding, "So I boiled him up and ate his heart! Hearts are surprisingly sugary after you cook them!"

Mabel looked like her own mom told her that Santa Claus got killed in a sleigh accident. "W.... What...?"

The Hand Witch laughed awkwardly. "That was a joke. I thought I was being obvious about that, sorry. We're still together!" she continued, holding up a photo of herself smiling happily and holding hands with... a pale skinned, wrinkly man with unfocused yellow eyes, crooked brown teeth, shaggy dirty hair, and a giant gaping hole in his chest. "I did eat his heart for real, though. He's a ghoul now."

"Oh, okay then!" said Mabel, calming down quite a bit, not appearing to care about the whole eating-hearts thing. Dipper probably did though, considering how creeped out he looked.

Frisk on the other hand marched straight up to the witch and stuck their hand out. "Frisk Dreemurr, Ambassador of Monsters from the Underground. Pleased to meet you."

"Ooooooooooooooo, such delicate haaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnds~! Um, I mean, the pleasure is all mine!" said the Hand Witch, eagerly shaking Frisk's hand with both of hers. 

"Am I to understand that you are the owner of this Nocturnal Teddy Bear?" asked Frisk, seemingly unphased by the Hand Witch dragging the hand shake on for a little too long.

"Yep!" nodded the Hand Witch. "Good ol' Beelzecub is my own creation! Did you kids cross paths with him by any chance?"

"Beelze-what???" Mabel stumbled over her words, when suddenly she felt something land on her head. It was Mr. SnuggleLots, recognizing the witch.

"Ah! There he is!" exclaimed the witch. "Beelzecub! You sure gave me a work out that is only sure to worsen my distorted spine! Why'd you run off?! Was it something I said? Or did? Was it something I didn't say or do? Speak to me Beelzecub! Speak to me, even though I know you can't talk! Was it because you thought I couldn't handle raising you when you turned out to be more of a bear than I intended?!

"What do you mean by him being more of a bear than you intended?" asked Toriel, approaching the group.

"My goal was to create the most Teddy Bearish sentient Teddy Bear to ever roam Gravity Falls!" bellowed the witch, imaginary thunder and lightning booming behind her. "But what came out... acted a lot more like your average bear cub."

"So you abandoned him?!" realized Toriel.

"Absolutely not! I raised him like any well-respected mother should do! Anyone who abandons a child if they don't come out exactly like they intended was never meant to be a parent at all!"

"I mean... do the rules of parenting apply here?" said Dipper, a little perplexed by this strange scenario. "What do you think, Frisk? ....Frisk?"

Frisk suddenly shook out of their stupor. "Hm?"

"Do you think the Hand Witch should treat Mr. SnuggleLots like he's her son?" said Dipper.

"Oh um, I suppose so. She did create him and all."

"See Dipper?!" said Mabel, nudging him. "I knew that Necromancy could be used for good!"

"I'm pretty sure necromancy doesn't apply here," grumbled Dipper.

"If he knows I created him, then why did my boy run away from home???" said a downtrodden Hand Witch. "I did my best to raise him right in the three weeks that I had him..."

There was silence among the group, nobody knowing how to approach this extremely weird conundrum. Even Waddles and Toby were silent.

The silence was broken by a familiar growl from a stomach made of stuffing.

"Oh!" said the Hand Witch, noticing the Teddy bear. "Are you still hungry, Beelzecub? I have a nice plate of fresh fish waiting for you at home!"

The bear said nothing.

Mabel got up to the hag's ear. "Try calling him Mr. SnuggleLots."

"Hm? That's a weird name..." nevertheless, the Hand Witch cleared her dry throat. "Oh Mr. SnuggleLoooooooootssssssss! There's a plate of fish with your name on it if you accompany Mama back to the caaaaaaaaaaave!"

The Trio, the pets, the Corduroys, and Toriel all watched as Mr. SnuggleLots's face turned a sickly green at the mention of fish, the poor bear looking absolutely nauseous.

And everything made sense.

"Mrs. Hand Witch," said Mabel, standing straight. "I believe we know why your pet Teddy ran away from home."

Dipper stood up next. "The reason for him leaving you was not because you were a bad role model, but rather..."

"You were feeding your child literal garbage," finished Frisk.

"B-but, look at him!" pleaded the Hand Witch. "He clearly acts like a... well... huh, actually he's acting pretty much how I envisioned him to act when I made him."

Dipper paced the room, stroking his chin. "I believe that what you had been dealing with was simply a side effect of a hungry Mr. SnuggleLots. It would appear, based on our experience, that the hungrier that Mr. SnuggleLots gets, the more animalistic he becomes. And this is not unheard of; I know a great number of people who display similar behavior when they're hungry. Take Mabel for example. Mabel!"

"Present!" said Mabel, raising her hand.

"Answer honestly! Do you, or do you not, start to growl like gremlin whenever breakfast takes longer than usual to be served?"

"I do!" said Mabel. "I also start biting the table legs!"

"Now then, Ms. Hand Witch," said Dipper, pointing at the witch who was taking notes. "Would you say that Mabel's behavior is well mannered, or not?"

"It isn't," Frisk chimed in. "But it is very much a quality that defines Mabel, and should never be corrected."

Mabel couldn't help but smile at that.

"So wait, hang on," said Wendy. "You mean to tell me that all of this crazy behavior was happening because Mr. SnuggleLots was hangry?"

"You are absolutely correct, Wendy." said Dipper, before returning his focus to the friendly crone. "The point we're trying to make here, Mrs. Hand Witch, is that when you created Mr. SnuggleLots, he was born without any food in his belly. He was starving. And he left your cave because what you were feeding him is not what he eats. It isn't fish, or bugs, or even honey. It is-!"

"Fabric!" said Mabel from behind Dipper, throwing confetti out of her hands. Where she got the confetti from was information that only she knew about.

"So, all that you need to do is change what you feed him," informed Frisk with their index finger up. "If you can't get over feeding him bear-food, then do it in the form of fabric. Knit a fish-doll. Use a yellow spool of yarn in place of a beehive. Things like that. Do that on top of everything else you've been doing for him, and you should be fine."

"I see, I see!" said the Hand Witch, enchanted by the new information. "I shall update his meal planner right away! Whaddya say to that, Beelz- um, I mean, Mr. SnuggleLots? Wow, that's going to take some getting used to... Ahem, well, Mr. SnuggleLots, how 'bout it? Ready to head back to our sweet little cave?"

Mr. SnuggleLots slowly crawled up to the Hand Witch... and gently chewed on her robe. Not eating it. Just chewing it.

"Looks like he's willing to give you another chance," said Frisk smiling.

The hag cackled with glee, picking the bear up and spinning him around. "Mama has missed you sooooooooooooo much!"

Mabel smiled at the happy reunion... but try as she may, she couldn't stop herself from choking up. "I'm gonna miss you, *sniff* Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't forget about me, you- you hear me?! I forbid it!!!"

"There there, sis," soothed Dipper, patting his sister on the back. He looked back to the bear, and gave a gentle yell. "Stay out of trouble from now on, okay buddy?"

"Your mother loves you very much! You're very blessed to have someone like her!" Frisk chimed in. "Don't forget to thank her occasionally!"

The sentient Teddy smiled and nodded, giving one final wave to the kids before the door to the cabin gently shut behind him and the hag.

"Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" came the over-the-top wails of Mabel Pines.

"And here come the post-Teddy-bear Blues," sighed Dipper, giving his sister a big hug.

"Ah, so this is a normal occurrence?" asked Frisk.

"Yep," nodded the capped twin. "She is incredibly loyal to any Teddy bear she encounters. You would not believe the number of times I've had to drag her away from various Lost and Found departments because she gave them a lost Teddy bear and couldn't will herself to part with it."

"Heh," chuckled Wendy. "I guess she couldn't bear saying goodbye to any of them, huh?"

The whole room went silent. Well, almost silent; Toriel took everyone by surprise with her giggles.

"You've been hanging out with Sans too much," snarled Dipper at Wendy.

"The guy's a hoot! Shut up!" laughed Wendy.

"At- at any rate," said Toriel, composing herself, "We should be heading out."

"Wait! We should try to help Wendy out with her sleeping problems!" said Mabel, having snapped out of her state of weeping. "I was going to suggest Mr. SnuggleLots but... he's gone now..." annnnnnnnnnnd the tears resumed.

"Meh, that wouldn't have worked out," said Wendy. "It's right in his species' name: Nocturnal. He'd be up all night, and I'd be spending the whole time taking care of him, instead of getting any sleep. But... it did give me an idea. I think having a stuffed animal would help me get to sleep."

"You want a what???" called Dan, his voice becoming a calm growl.

Wendy sighed and tightened her fists. No backing out now. She was a daughter of Francine Corduroy, and dang it, she was going to act like one.

"You heard me, Dad! You all heard me! I am done with the December noise! You all wanna holler about the upcoming New Year, do it outside! The pub, the woods, the sewers, I don't care! Just do it away from me when I'm trying to sleep! As for the stuffed animal, heck yeah I want one! I've always wanted one, why not!? They're soft, they're quiet, they'll help me sleep, and they don't even cost that much, Dad!"

"Dang, she's going off," said Dipper, almost mesmerized.

"'Tis the wrath of the teenager," said Mabel with deep respect towards the red-haired girl. "A power that you and I will soon acquire for ourselves, brother."

"And... A-and...!" Wendy stammered.

The room went quiet from bated breath.

"AND IF ANY OF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, I'LL SUPLEX YOU INTO A MOUNTAIN!!!"

There was silence. Not a peep was uttered from any of the Corduroys. Wendy simply waited, puffing and panting...

        "BWAAAAAAAAAH HAH HAH HAH!!!" Dan howled with laughter. "THAT'S MY GIRL~!"

"Pardon?" said Wendy.

"First thing tomorrow, we'll stop by the local toy store. You can pick out whichever one you want! The boys wouldn't stop pestering me about it anyway. As for the New Years noise..."

Wendy tensed up.

"Baby girl, I'm gonna be honest, it completely slipped my mind how busy you are with the shack. I promise to take the noise elsewhere. And if you ever catch me forgetting that promise, you have permission to wack me upside the head with your late mother's favorite frying pan."

"You're kidding," said Wendy with a flabbergasted smile.

"Nope, you know I don't kid around with you or any of the boys," said Dan with pride.

"Heh... thanks Dad," said Wendy sheepishly, thinking to herself, Looks like Undyne isn't boasting around when she's giving advice. I keep forgetting that she was a Captain during her time underground.

"Victory for Wendy!!!" cheered Mabel, throwing more confetti from seemingly out of nowhere.

"And with th-thaaaaaattttttt..." Toriel said before letting out a massive yawn of her own. "I believe it's time that we headed home."

As the kids, the pets, and Toriel made their way back home in their winter garb (Mabel now donning a decently lengthed spaghetti scarf thanks to Mr. SnuggleLots biting it down to size), Frisk slowed their pace, drifting away from the kids until the stoic faced child was side by side with their mother.

"Frisk?" said Toriel, curious as to why her child fell behind. 

"I knew that today was Asriel's birthday. I knew the whole time."

"!!!"

"And when I found out that you stole the living room TV, I realized it was because you were planning to spend the day alone in your room with the videotape of his birthday. I... I wanted his birthday to be a day of celebration. A day where you and Dad could come together, if only for the one day. I..."

Toriel said nothing. She just picked her child up and held them close to her as she walked. Frisk buried their face in her shoulder, their tiny hands gripping onto her robe.

"I got..." whimpered the child. "...I got so mad when I found out that you were planning to spend the day away from me... from Dad... from everyone. If anything, we could've at least helped you carry the burden of all the grief the day brings you. So... So I stole the videotape in the hope that you would abandon looking for it and spend time with us instead. I should've told you, I know... but... I was scared you'd just turn me away... I'm sorry..."

"Oh, Frisk," comforted the remorseful mother. "You don't have to apologize for anything..."

    "...except for stealing."

That earned her a muffled chuckle. Okay, good.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize here. I should have never secluded myself from the group, from Asgore, and especially from you. If you knew that today was his birthday, you must've been grieving a bit yourself. And there is no doubt that Asgore was coping with his own grief as well."

She felt Frisk silently nod against her.

"Did you overhear the conversation I was having with Wendy, Frisk?"

"...A bit."

"Well," said Toriel, giving a murmur of a giggle as she ran a paw through Frisk's hair soothingly, "She told me something that I feel silly for not considering sooner. About how the anniversary of a lost loved one should be filled with laughter, not just grief. I promise you, this is the last night where I suffer in a room by myself on my dear Asriel's birthday."

"Really?"

"I swear it, my child."

Frisk pulled back to look their mom in the eyes and smile. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, my dear sweet Frisk," cooed Toriel, brushing her snout against Frisk's nose endearingly. "Would you like me to set you down?"

"Please," said Frisk. "I just remembered something I want to tell Mabel."

"Of course, sweetie," said Toriel, setting Frisk back down on the snowy ground. "I suppose we can consider this to be the end of the conversation that we both promised earlier to continue."

"Okay, Mom," said a beaming Frisk, before running up to rejoin the group and say...

"Hey Mabel, don't you owe your brother fifty dollars now or something? The owner of the bear turned out to be a witch after all."

"Huh... that's right! Alright, Mabel! Hand over the dough!"

"I don't owe you squat! I refused that deal, remember?! Frisk, you're my witness! Back me up here!"

"I plead the fifth~"

"Traitor!"

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. The Mystery Shack finally reopened, and it turned out that everyone's fear of a swarm was unwarranted, as there was no swarm. But, there was something new about the visitors that kept things interesting.

Monsters were beginning to visit the shack. Of all shapes and sizes, inhabitants of the underground were stopping buy to peruse the gift shop or experience a tour of the museum. Of notice, there was a dummy that was very brash and loud, but was very respectful when asked to shush. There was a purple spider humanoid that was creepily polite as she bought herself a few Mystery Shack Mugs™ and left a flyer on the counter for the 'First Spider Bake Sale on the Surface!' before tittering and leaving the store. There was even a humanoid cat and alligator that stopped by that Wendy just knew her ragtag of friends would get along with. 

Wendy looked like she had a face lift with how much better she looked. At Mabel's curiosity, Wendy spoke about how once this shift is over, she's heading out with her family to visit the toy store and get a toy for each of the kids, and that's when she'll be able to pick out her stuffed animal to sleep with.

"But honestly, I still have no idea what kind of stuffed animal I want right now..."

That's when a peculiar critter, with the cutest face and voice that Wendy had ever seen, passed through the door, followed by 19 lookalikes.

"Hoi! I'm Temmie! Is this the Mystewy Shack???"

Wendy knew exactly what kind of stuffed animal she wanted now.

But it wasn't just monsters showing up. Candy and Grenda finally passed through now that they could, and Mabel nearly knocked Grenda over with her pounce-hug. They spent the whole time preparing sleepovers, catching up, and promising other times to meet up that weren't sleepover-related.  

Old Man McGucket passed by as well! He needed a batch of normal AA batteries. When Dipper asked him what invention he needed the batteries for, he hooted and hollered, saying they weren't for him. They were for the alarm clock for his new lab assistant, simply named 'P.N.' Something about that name struck Dipper as familiar, but McGucket had left the store before the boy could ask him anything else.

Frisk had bumped into someone roughly their size. The other kid was in very suspicious clothing: A tiny trench coat, a fedora, and sunglasses. The only thing Frisk heard from the kid was a simple phrase spoken in a boyish, and ridiculously southern, voice. "If anyone asks, I was never here. Good day."

The Mystery Trio was certain the day was over when Wendy left with her family, flipping the sign from 'Got money? We're Open!' to 'Begone from this cursed place! We're Closed!' on her way out. But it wasn't over.

Toriel had been missing for most of the day, much to the Trio's confusion, the only clue given to them was that she had asked Stanley if there was any flour left over from the errands he was running when Tim attacked. Now, they were about to find out why.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN," rang Papyrus's voice. "THE EX-QUEEN OF THE UNDERGROUND HAS AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS ORDERS YOU TO PLEASE HALT WHATEVER IT IS YOU'RE DOING AND PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE HAS TO SAY! ALSO IF SOMEONE COULD TELL WHY MY SCARF GOT SO MUCH SHORTER OVERNIGHT, THAT WOULD BE FANTASTIC-"

"As I told you, I will explain everything to you soon," a giggling Toriel promised the uptight skeleton, waiting until everyone had congregated in the living room and kitchen before continuing. "My friends, I owe you all an apology."

The whole crew went quiet as Toriel went on.

"Some of you know- and for those that don't, I apologize for holding this secret from you- that yesterday was the birthday of our departed prince of the underground, Asriel Dreemurr."

Gasps were heard all around.

"I spoke nothing of this occasion previously because I didn't want anybody to know. I wanted to grieve alone. I wasn't even willing to share the grief with my ex-husband, Asriel's father, Asgore. My time of grieving for all these years had made me grow distant and selfish."

She spared a glance to Asgore before closing her eyes, sighing, and proceeding.

"Yesterday, a chance encounter with Wendy's family opened my eyes to something. If I'm going to remember Asriel's passing for every year when his birthday comes around, I'm doing my poor child a horrible disservice by not celebrating. By not smiling. By not laughing. By not spending it with those who were close to him and the friends of those close to him.

She looked to everyone. The misty eyed Stan twins. The Papyrus who was trying his best not to shriek like a dog whistle. The Sans who looked lively for once. The Undyne and Alphys who were looking pumped as all heck. The joyous Mettaton. The smiling Napstablook. The Asgore grinning from ear to ear. And the Mystery Trio, who were slowly realizing what she was about to say next.

"So who wants to help me bake a cake?!"

As pandemonium continued to ensue in the kitchen, Toriel found a moment to pull Asgore aside. They both were now sitting quietly on the couch of the back porch.

"Everything alright?" asked Asgore.

"In the grand scheme of things, absolutely not," answered Toriel with brutal honesty. "Our child is still dead. And with him, 6 other children fell. By your cursed trident."

Asgore could only look down, well acquainted with the crushing shame that coursed through him.

"But... today is a tribute to Asriel's birthday. And you were... are... his father."

Toriel finally looked the ex-King in the eyes. "I may never forgive you for what you did after we lost Asriel. However... you were the best father a boy like him could've ever hoped for. And you continue to be that father for our little Frisk. For that... I cannot thank you enough."

"...that's all the thanks I could ever ask of you, Toriel." said Asgore with a sad smile. "I appreciate you telling me."

Despite herself, Toriel gave a small smile. "Come inside. Cake is almost ready, and I'm not going to sit and listen to your whining if you aren't quick enough to nab a piece."

"Ha ha ha, of course," beamed Asgore.

"♫♫HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU!♫♫"

The band of misfits finished the terribly sung rendition of the ancient tune. And yet, it was music to Toriel's ears.

She looked up to the ceiling, wiping her eyes and smiling.

"Make a wish, little one~"

"Mabel, Frisk, you guys go on ahead. I'll be right behind you as soon as I'm done with something!"

"Okie dokie!"

"Understood. See you in the morning, Dipper."

Dipper was just on his way to a long needed nightly rest, when he remembered a very important question he wanted to ask Toriel. This was why he approached her as she was getting ready to settle into her bed with a good book.

"Hey, Toriel?"

"Yes, Dipper?"

"In all the excitement from last night and today, I forgot that there was something I wanted to ask."

"Ha ha ha, and what would that be?"

"Yesterday night... I was watching the tape after you left, and... I couldn't help but notice that there was another child in the background."

"Another child?"

"Yeah! They were looking away from the camera a lot but I think they looked like a human... Who were they?"

Toriel gave a bemused smile. Her face was one of pure honesty, and when she answered, her words came straight from the heart.

      And that's why what she said next did not sit well with Dipper at all.

                "Dipper, sweetheart, I'm afraid I don't understand. Asriel was the only child we had in our family. I don't remember raising anyone alongside him. Who is this this other child that you claim to see?"

A day spent remembering the passing of a loved one is better went it's filled with laughter and good company. Solitude and grief is necessary, but extended doses of it can be harmful.

Credits Scene

"Tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" cheered the Hand Witch. "I present to you, my dearest Mr. SnuggleLots, with the first round of your new meals!"

The Teddy bear was currently seated at the table, the latter donned with a table cloth and three covered platters.

The first platter unveiled a perfectly crocheted fish, with light-blue scales made of yarn and beads for eyes.

The second platter revealed a giant spool of yellow and brown yarn, representing a beehive.

The third platter showcased a plethora of colorful beads, which symbolized different berries and bugs.

"So which one will it beeeeeeeeee?" dramatized the Hand Witch excitedly. "Take your pick! It's all up to you!"

Mr. SnuggleLots took a very decent amount of time examining all three tasty fabric-treats...

...

Before eating the tablecloth.

"Ah, I see," said the witch, dumbstruck. "You are... quite the picky eater."

Mr. SnuggleLots only smiled at her, his cheeks puffed up from the tablecloth currently in his mouth. 

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NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

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