#they’ve been dead. they died as people neither of them would recognize.

[quietwingsinthesky]

I don’t care about Henry Winchester but I do think it would have been funny if he just had to keep living in the future. No spell to send him back. Congratulations, all your friends have been hunted down and slaughtered, your organization is in shambles, and everything you worked for never mattered because the war against the supernatural is still happening two generations down! Your son is long since dead and spent his whole life thinking you abandoned him, and his children still hold a grudge against you for this despite the fact that you were fleeing for your life from a demon and always intended to return!

[phoenixyfriend]

Uncle Ben and Little Luke

AKA we combine several types of time travel for maximum Soft Chaos, let’s go

EDIT NOW THAT I’VE WRITTEN THIS UP: jfc this ended up much angstier than initially intended uhhhhhhhhhh sorry

So a common enough thing I’ve seen in time travel fics is characters getting de-aged when tossed back physically, to neither the age they should be in that time, nor the age they were from the time they left, but whatever is most convenient. This is usually de-aging OT Obi-Wan into his TCW self, for reasons relating to, chiefly, removing the damage of Tatooine absolutely destroying his body alongside PTSD-driven alcoholism, but also because fic writers are horny, and Ewan McGregor playing a late-thirties negotiator is on average more appealing to people than Alec Guinness playing a vaguely feral desert hermit.

So, here’s how it plays out:

We take Luke and Ben from some point in the OT. There are a variety of options depending on how angsty we want it to be. My first instinct is ‘right after Owen and Beru die’ but I want to have that sweet angst where Luke knows that his dad is Vader and that Obi-Wan was trying to convince him to kill his own father without telling him that.

We’ll go with shortly after Bespin, and then they end up significantly before TPM. The Obi-Wan of the timeline proper is, eh, let’s say eighteen. Not really ready to be a knight, but old enough that we don’t have to worry about “if we go save Shmi, do we somehow wipe out Anakin?” which is absolutely a worry. Anakin is a toddler, and is in no place to be evil, on account of being literally two years old. He can’t even explode people with his brain yet.

Now, Ben finds himself mid-thirties, as is traditional. He’s not upset at this, because his joints hurt so much less than they used to! His knees aren’t exactly teenage-perfect, but by the Force are they better than they were in the years before he died! His hair has color! He doesn’t have arthritis! And, goodness, no physical withdrawal symptoms! The psychological aspect is still there, but nonetheless, he’s in much better shape than he last remembers being.

Luke looks like he’s about six. He was recently twenty-two. This is not an upgrade. Ben keeps having to carry him. He can’t see over the counter when they enter a bar for information. He can’t enter the bar in the first place. He’s very annoyed by all of this.

Ben is not annoyed. Ben is having a lot of emotions, actually, but annoyance isn’t one of them. He didn’t get to help raise Luke the way he might have if Anakin hadn’t lost his shit, okay, he sees a small Luke and he wants to hug him and cry.

Luke would like to be able to purchase a speeder part without the lady at the stall asking him if he needs his “dad’s” permission.

Once they figure out when and where they are, they need to decide where and how to leave. There are general shenanigans to gamble their way into enough money to hire a ship. They are in the ass end of nowhere, but definitely not Tatooine. There appears to be a jungle. There appears to be a significant variety of man-eating creatures. There appears to be a temple to the Force of questionable origin. None of this is actually helpful, except for the moment they find a “baby’s first lightsaber” in the temple.

Luke only has one hand and, being a six-year-old, his body is growing too fast for him to bother with getting a wired-in prosthesis the way he could as an adult. He can get a more basic prosthesis, but nothing that attaches to the neurons. He’ll outgrow it too fast.

He’s tiny and he’s not used to doing things with just one hand. He uses the Force to do what one hand can't, and every time someone tries to tell him he's misusing the Force he whaps them with the empty sleeve.

So, you know, they find out what year it is. Ben has a breakdown. Luke is upset that he left behind his friends. Ben admits to him that Leia was his twin. Luke stares in horror because dude, she kissed him, you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier???

Ben points out that Beru and Owen were keeping Luke away from him for nineteen years, and then they had about three days of awkward travel to find Leia in the first place, and then Ben died. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure out how to tell him.

(This sparks an argument that lasts several days. All onlookers assume that Ben’s son is throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t correct them, even though this is a very valid reason to be upset, because the truth is much harder to explain.)

Sooooo they travel. Mostly, Ben plays Sabacc, cleans house, and pays their way towards Coruscant. Luke still really wants to learn to be a Proper Jedi, even though Ben is pretty sure that Luke would have... a lot of difference of opinion with the Temple, but sure. Coruscant. They can at least stop by, and see Qui-Gon, and Mace, and Quinlan, and Bant, and everyone else that’s still alive and not tragically deceased in the horror following the start of the Clone Wars and then the birth of the Empire, and Ben can have a nice sob over all his dead friends being alive again.

Ben is only barely holding it together while Luke is in the room with him at any given point. But it’s fine! It’s fine. He’s fine. All of his loved ones have come back to life! It’s great! HE’S FINE.

He is not fine.

Luke is also grieving all the people who haven’t been born yet, but he’s... significantly more okay than Ben is.

The closer they get to the Core, the more often people just assume Ben is Luke’s father, and then look shocked and uncomfortable when Luke flatly calls him by his name, and they just... compromise. This is the point at which Luke starts calling him “Uncle Ben.”

Ben cries in his bunk later that night. Luke overhears it and wonders how the HELL Ben is more unstable now, when there’s a chance to fix things and no Vader or Empire trying to kill or capture both of them, and all his friends are alive.

(Luke will later learn a lot about PTSD and realize this is actually a fairly normal situation, to process significant events and emotions only after gaining safety or catharsis.)

(Twenty years on a ball of sand with an alcohol addiction and debilitating fear of the man you raised as your own brother is not, in fact, safe or cathartic.)

At any rate, they’ve settled into that pattern by the time they reach the Inner Rim. The Inner Rim is the part of the galaxy at which they’ve collected enough money (and mental stability) to travel a little better, and to take a few more risks.

Risks like “manipulate people with those baby blues.”

Ben tells Luke that he’s a menace, after he pouts so cutely that he gets a free scarf added on to a purchase that Ben makes. Luke responds that Ben has no room to talk, since he flirted a free breakfast out of that one inn owner.

Also, Luke is currently physically six. That is objectively a situation that sucks. He deserves to use it for all it’s worth if he’s stuck like this.

“You know, if you keep wearing all-black and looking longingly at the velvet cape and Space Chanel boots, the temple is going to worry that you’re a darksider.”

“Uncle Ben... you told me, yesterday, that I sparkle so brightly in the Force that it’s almost blinding.”

“Yes, but the gloves--”

They don’t agree on this, but Ben relents. He does actually understand good fashion, unfortunately, and he’s not unaware of how much Leia taught Luke about such things.

Luke’s about forty years ahead of the curve, of course, but Skywalkers are prone to such things. It’s usually in regards to technology, granted, but...

They get to Coruscant. Ben is very obviously a Jedi. He knows all the right words and walks like a Soresu master and feels warm and comforting in the Force. They let him in with minimal questions. They note down “my first padawan left the order to have a child, but died shortly after; I consider Luke here to be my nephew, and have raised him as such,” and move on.

Luke is vaguely annoyed because he already had an uncle (and aunt) that raised him, but he admits that a person can have more than one uncle. He can live with this. Ben was more family to Anakin than Owen was, in some ways, so it’s kind of true. Luke is even working on feeling more childish affection for Ben instead of the complicated mess of emotions that come from being lied to about some very large and important subjects, and then seeing the person saying those lies have regular emotional breakdowns due to something as small as Luke saying he likes the curve of the hull on that freighter.

(Apparently he sounds just like his father did as a child. This is almost heartwarming.)

The thing is! The thing. The thing is, they almost make it to the Halls of Healing to get looked over for weird viruses, or Outer Rim Parasites, or whatever the hells needs to be happening. They almost make it without Ben having a flashback to dead younglings or brainwashed troopers or the declaration of a Sith Empire. They almost make it without incident.

Then Ben sees Qui-Gon, and freezes, and does not move again.

Luke cannot get him to restart.

People are staring.

They haven’t even made it to Medical, Uncle Ben, come on.

Young, local Obi-Wan comes over and asks if there’s something he can do to help. Or maybe this “Ben” knows Qui-Gon? Master Jinn doesn’t recognize Ben, but maybe Luke knows more?

Luke does know more, but what Luke actually says is “he probably needs a mind healer.”

(Ben will not appreciate this.)

(Ben is unfortunately standing in the middle of the hallway and completely unresponsive, and is unable to argue with this assertion.)

(Ben is pretty much proving this assertion entirely correct, actually.)

Obi-Wan is helpful, if a little bitchy in the manner of most late-teens individuals, and offers to help get Uncle Ben down to the Halls of Healing. It involves Obi-Wan gently pushing on Ben’s shoulders, and Qui-Gon offering to carry Luke so he can be in Ben’s sights (because Ben is a Mystery, and Qui-Gon is quite fond of those, so he wants to stay involved). Ben kind of just... shuffles on down.

There are medical tests. They ask about how Luke lost his hand. He refuses to talk about it. They ask how Ben got all his scars. Luke says he doesn’t know. They ask if he knows why Ben looks like he’s been through a war. Luke says it’s because he probably was.

They check for foreign viruses. They find evidence of thus-far-unpatented vaccinations. They ask Luke if he knows what he’s vaccinated for.

“How would I know? I’m six.”

They agree that this is a good excuse.

(It is not. He’s lying. They do not know this.)

They do some more tests. They find a lot of questionable medical bullshit in Ben’s body. Most of this is from the clone wars, but they don’t know this. Someone realizes they haven’t gotten a ping back from the Shadow Network regarding “do we have permission to pull the medical file of a Jedi that isn’t in the normal database? We’re assuming you know who he is, since we don’t.”

The Shadow Network does not know who Ben is.

The healers, of course, go “huh, that’s weird, but maybe the name he gave his nephew was fake. We can’t exactly ask ‘Ben’ for more details right now. We already had to sedate him. Let’s check the DNA!”

The DNA pulls up as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The padawan who brought this guy in two hours ago.

“Huh, that’s weird. Let’s call in Kenobi and ask if he knows what’s going on.”

Obi-Wan absolutely does not know what’s going on.

They ask Luke.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, lying through his teeth and not even pretending otherwise.

“You’re not a very good liar,” teenage Obi-Wan tells him.

“I’m not trying to be,” Luke says. “Can you get Master Yoda? I feel like we’re going to need him.”

They normally wouldn’t get Yoda on the request of a six-year-old, but they also normally don’t have a catatonic thirty-something Jedi who looks like he’s been through a war popping up in the medical database as the pimply teenage padawan that broke his pinky trying to do a Badass Ataru Flip last week.

Or... whatever Luke i... is... oh dear.

“Young one,” Qui-Gon asks, while people whisper-shout behind him, not realizing he’s cutting the Correlian Knot and just asking the kid himself. “Do you know why your midichlorian count is so high? It’s almost unheard of.”

“Uncle Ben said my dad was the Chosen One,” Luke says, because he is capable of being a little shit and is actually really eager to let Ben deal with some of the fallout. He feels for the man, really, but he’s also tired of being the one to field every single question.

Also, the expressions that pass on Qui-Gon’s face are hilarious.

(Luke may or may not be more affected by his six-year-old brain than he would like to admit.)

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon says, sounding more than a little strangled about it.

It takes another three hours for Ben to wake up.

He listens to the questions. He hears what they say his ‘nephew’ said. He looks at Luke.

“Is this revenge for not telling you about Leia?”

“It’s not revenge,” Luke does not lie. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“It’s pretty easy to explain.”

“It’s not my secret.”

“This is revenge for the Leia thing.”

“No,” Luke says. “Revenge for the Leia thing was when I ate a live frog in front of you.”

This is the point at which someone interrupts and points out that they appear to be stalling.

“Oh, he is,” Luke tells them. He gestures at Ben. “I can’t tell you more, because it’s more his story than mine.”

“I’m afraid, Master, that I am very likely to have an emotional breakdown if I allow myself to consider the reality of this situation for longer than the fraction of a second I already have,” Ben reports, full of false cheer. “Suffice to say, I am far from stable and have only held out this far for Luke’s sake.”

“Can you explain why you have my DNA?” Obi-Wan asks, as the person who’s most concerningly involved in this situation.

“You can,” Ben says, smiling like there is absolutely nothing wrong in the slightest, ever. “I’m you, from the future. I actually died and spent a few years dead before coming back. I’m not sure why I’m younger than I was when I died, but I appreciate being able to put on my shoes without my knees attempting to mutiny.”

“He needs a mind healer,” Luke reiterates, in case the strained grin hasn’t made it clear. “So do I, but not as much.”

“I have felt literally every person in this Temple save for Luke and Yoda die,” Ben reports, looking a shade more manic than a few seconds earlier. “It’s very overwhelming to feel you all being alive again. I may be approaching a mental breakdown, and I’ve been rather strictly advised against using alcohol to treat my traumas again.”

Luke kicks him in the thigh. It’s not a very hard kick, because he is very small, and he does actually like Ben. “I’m not letting you turn into an old drunk again.”

After several seconds of silence, a healer quietly suggests that everyone clear the room, and asks if someone could fetch Master Yoda as the youngling requested.

(THIS IS ALMOST THREE THOUSAND WORDS. I started it less than two hours ago. Why am I like this.)

[arctickat2400]

Shock & Fear <> Dom Toretto & Luke Hobbs

* Note #1: When I say “dads”, it means that my mom in the story had two husbands at different times. She married Dom and had me, then they got divorced; she found Luke, they got married, then she died. I am very close to both of them in the story. They’ve had their differences in the past, Dom and Luke, but after my mom's death, they overcame those to give me a better life. They became best friends. All three of them live together so neither dad has to be apart from me. Sorry, this fic might be a tad bit confusing when it comes to Dom and Luke. Everything should be explained in the story.

* Note #2: I replaced all the “dads” with their names so it’s not confusing for y’all. In my version which I write on Google Docs, I have them as “dad” with their names in parentheses so I know who I’m talking about.

* Note #3: Based on a dream I had (Early Morning of August 18, 2021) made into a story. No joke, Dom, Luke, and Letty were in my dream, it was great, except for the weird dude in my car.

* * *

Driving to our beach house, I look and see my dads working in the shed on Dom's Dodge Charger… again. Him, Tej, Roman, Letty, and Brian went racing again, and of course, he wrecked it again. I wasn’t surprised, it happens a lot. Doesn’t mean I’m any less concerned everytime it happens.

It made me happy, though, seeing them working together, laughing and having a good time. It didn’t used to be this way. Once mom and Dom had me, I was about 8 when they got divorced. I’m glad they lasted that long, but I hate that they didn’t last. But once Dom found out mom married Luke, the universe granted him a second chance. Dom found Letty and dad had never been happier than with her.

Naturally, my dads had their differences in the beginning. But, once mom died, they overcame those differences to make it easier on me. That was almost 10 years ago. Now, at 19 and living with the best dads and the best family I could ask for, it’s not a bad life. Living by the beach, taking online courses, going out with friends, Dom teaching me how to race, which has become my favorite thing ever.

I pull into the driveway, walking over to my dads, exchanging greeting smiles.

“Hey, baby,” Dom says as I walk over to give him a hug, receiving a kiss on my head. “Hey, sweetheart,” Luke adds as he gives me a hug with a kiss on the head as well.

“How long have y’all been working?” I used to live in the south, so the slang and accent sorta stuck.

“Couple of hours. Thought we’d take a break and grab a beer.” Dom commented, leaning forward against his car.

“Speaking of, I know you just got back, but do you mind going out to pick up a few things while we finish up here?” Luke requested hesitantly.

“Yeah, sure. Just text me what you need and I’ll be back soon.” I give my dad's both kisses on the cheek before walking back to my truck after watching them walk inside the house. I fiddle around through my backpack looking for my keys when I get a text from Dad, the grocery list.

I finally find my keys in the mess that’s in my backpack, but as my eye catches something, no, someone, I drop them. I don’t recognize them, never seen them before. He’s walking on the other side of the road, but it seems like he’s changed his mind about where he’s going and he starts to cross the road. I’m curious, but also scared. It looked like he was coming towards me. I pick up my keys and struggle to unlock the door in fear once I see the gun in his waistband. The guy walks faster as I open my door, jumping in. I fumble trying to get my key into the ignition before thinking about locking the car first, but I was too late. The guy opened the door, jumped in next to me and slammed the door, making me flinch.

“Um… sir, I think you have the wrong car,” I said, taking a chance, surprised my voice could create any words.

“Just drive,” He yelled. I immediately started the car, backing out of the driveway and driving towards the grocery store. He didn’t tell me where he wanted to go, but I did as he said and drove, afraid to say anything else in fear of being yelled at again, or worse.

Only a short way left to the grocery store, suddenly, the guy told me to turn around and head back to the house (Don’t ask me why; it’s just what happened).

Everything was a blur and somehow, we were already in the house. Walking around inside, a knife held to my neck, he brought me out the back door and towards the shed where my dads should be. I didn’t see them anywhere; however, when I looked back at the sudden loss of pressure against my neck, they both stood there across from me, the guy on the ground; dead or just unconscious, I’m not sure.

I ran to Luke, rushing into his embrace as his arms wound safely around me. He held me for what seemed like a long time, but I didn’t mind. I never wanted to leave this safety and comfort. I pulled away soon after and rushed to Dom, his arms wrapping around me, his hand laid on my head, holding me against his chest.

“It all happened so fast,” I cried, everything around me a blur of tears.

“Shh… baby, it’s okay.” Dom told me, brushing his fingers through my hair. “You’re here, we’ve got you.”

I pull away once again and look to see Luke shoving the guy into the back of his LAPV.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I’m gonna take him in and be right back in time for everyone to get here,” Luke mentioned, holding my face in his hands, stroking my cheeks comfortingly.

“But, I didn’t get the groceries,” I was so shaken up that I started crying again over not getting the groceries. Every Friday, we have a cook-out and all our friends and family come and hang out.

“Baby girl, it’s okay. I got it. Stay with your dad and I will be right back. Take it easy.” He placed a kiss on my forehead as he hopped into his car and drove off. Dom took me into his arms and led me inside. He grabbed me some water, checked me over for any injuries and settled us outside on the porch overlooking the ocean.

Time Skip

I walked around outside, seeing all our friends and family, even some of their family. There were so many people, it was all so chaotic. Everyone was talking, catching up. Every now and then my dads would check on me, even if it was just a glance in my direction, just making sure I’m okay.

Suddenly, there was a weird tingling feeling in my throat and my eyes started to sting. My breathing went shallow and next thing I know, I’m falling, hitting the ground, and everything goes black.

I hear my name being called. “Y/N!” Luke calls. I barely open my eyes as I see him and Dom rushing towards me.

“Y/N, baby, can you hear me?” Dom asks, distressed. I feel myself being picked up and I open my heavy eyes once more to see Luke carrying me in his arms, laying me down on a porch chair.

The doctor of the family just said I was in shock and that I needed to rest. So, my dads carried me upstairs, laying me down in bed, covering me in my favorite blanket, and kissing my head. Dom stayed with me while Luke went down to tell everyone what's going on before coming back up to stay with me as well.

After today, they didn’t want to leave me. I didn’t want them to leave me either. Everywhere they were, I was. If they were working in the shed or the office or kitchen or on the porch, I’d be with them, working on my classes or drawing or reading or doing whatever it is I like to do. If I wanted to go down to the beach, they’d come with me. That family bond we always have just got stronger, making me feel safer than ever when I’m with them.

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

The race continues! Let’s see how everyone else gets past the first obstacle.

[No. 25 - In Their Own Quirky Ways]

Yamada is vibrating in excitement as he announces that the first event is an obstacle race - a lap around the stadium, made just for that day. Which again points to the events themselves being non-randomized, which I think we all already knew. Wonder what would happen if said ‘randomizer’ got hacked… ah, well, the staff are probably prepared for that?

Also, I love Aizawa’s gruff little ‘hey’ in response to Yamada’s excitement, like. You can tell he’s telling his friend to dial back without any further context. 

As we go back to the students fighting the robots, Yamada continues his explanation: Anything’s fair game so long as the contestants stay in bounds, making the whole race a harsh game of chicken. And all the action is brought to the audience by the camera robots at each location! Aizawa wryly notes that Yamada doesn’t even really need him there. And pfft, I love how the camera robots are cheering on their larger brethren, telling them to aim for the humans’ legs and to smash the humans. 

The other zero-pointers still loom menacingly over the students, with the collapsed robots acting as a barrier to progress as well. Some of them are particularly nervous, one commenting on how there are kids pinned under the collapsed zero-pointers, while another says the crushed students have to be dead, and that they didn’t know the students could be killed during this event. 

(Seriously, though, what would have happened if students died during this? I have a strong feeling that wouldn’t have been good for PR…)

The metal of the robots starts to deform from underneath with several bangs, culminating in a hardened Kirishima bursting out from underneath, scoffing at the idea of his death. Yamada helpfully announces how Kirishima had been crushed. Kirishima’s quirk fades as he grumbles about Todoroki being a bastard for timing their fall like that, and that he’d be dead if he wasn’t him. We then get a helpful little quirk blurb from the narrative: Hardening turns his body hard as a rock - it’s the ultimate offense and defense!

Another part of the robot bangs from underneath, with a metallic-looking Tetsutetsu bursting up from underneath, complaining about 1a being full of jerks and that he’d be dead if he wasn’t him. Kirishima recognizes him as the guy from class 1b, while Yamada notes how Tetsutetsu had also been flattened. As if to continue to emphasize how similar their quirks are, we then get a narrative blurb: Steel turns his body hard as a rock - it’s the ultimate offense and defense!

Yes, they are written exactly the same way. Yes, Kirishima does realize how similar their quirks are. He dashes ahead with tears in his eyes, calling Tetsutetsu a copycat and that he fells generic enough as it is. 

(Insert a ‘B-baka!’ joke in here somewhere.)

Kaminari calls the two lucky for being able to just smash through without worrying about being crushed. Rin of 1b (with a scale quirk, not mentioned yet), shouts at Kaminari, or I guess the other students in general, that they should team up so they can carve a path through. 

Meanwhile, Katsuki is blasting himself up and over the zero pointers, telling himself he can’t let Shouto get ahead. As he flies up and over the top of the robots, Yamada complements Katsuki’s strategy of taking the high road, calling it ‘clever’. However, he’s not the only one to do so - Sero and Tokoyami are right behind him, much to his shock. Sero says that with his personality, he expected Katsuki to bust his way through, but that he avoided the potential fight. Tokoyami’s greeting is more simple, just stating that he’s happening to follow the same path.

The narration gives us brief overviews of their quirks as well - Sero’s Tape is shot from his elbows, and can be used to wrap things up, and can also be detached to lay down traps. Tokoyami’s quirk Dark Shadow is a shadow beast within him that can materialize and morph at will.

We briefly head over to the stands where Toshinori and some of the other school staff (Thirteen, Snipe, and Cementoss specifically) are watching on. Yamada announces how the current leaders of the pack are overwhelmingly from class A. Toshinori notes that Class B and the others aren’t bad, it’s just… And as if picking up on the same thought, Aizawa finishes that Class A knows there’s no time to hesitate. 

We get to see this in brief flashes to some of the 1a kids: Tenya is kicking one of the smaller robots, Kaminari is using his electricity like a taser, and Jirou is using her earjacks to disable yet more robots. Kirishima is sprinting as fast as he can, Ochako seems to be making use of her quirk, and Ojiro’s looking pretty cool while taking out a robot with his tail. 

Aizawa (and I suppose Toshinori, in his own way) continue their thoughts and explanations for Class 1a’s heightened performance: they’ve been exposed to the outside world, and up close. They’re had that fear planted in them, and they’re endured and overcome it. Each has grown from that experience, and forgotten how to hesitate. 

As if to emphasize this, we see Izuku ducking under the attack of a robot, dashing past it to grab a piece of (apparently heavy) armor plating from the zero-pointer Shouto knocked down. He notes how the contest has just begun, so he can’t rely on One For All just yet. As he keeps moving, he notices that the same robot is still locked onto him and chasing, thinking of how UA made them pretty tenacious. He comes to a stop and turns with the plate, noting that with how fast it’s moving, it can’t break quickly - a flaw he takes advantage of by spinning with the plate in hand, the momentum tearing through the thinner arms and neck of the robot. He tells himself he has to keep moving, while also acknowledging how handy the sheet is and that it can function as a shield as well.

Meanwhile, Momo our goddess blasts away the competition - almost literally.

Like, Momo. I cannot even begin to describe how cool that is. Abet I dunno if making something that big was the best idea for her reserves… ah well, I mean, part of this early part of the manga is the kids making mistakes and learning their limits and pushing themselves, so. At least it looks cool! Izuku’s impressed with how easily she beat a zero pointer, without acknowledging his own success in doing so just a few months before this.

(Then again, neither she nor Shouto broke most of their bodies to do so, so shrugs.)

Snipe notes how most people are better off dodging the zero pointers in the exam (guessing the entrance exam is what he meant here), while then acknowledging that they’re really just slow hunks of metal if you try to take them down - so long as you find a weak point. Toshinori is distracted by Izuku’s actions being on the big screen (or at least one screen). His thoughts acknowledge how Izuku has to know how crazy this is, but he keeps busting through. He then thinks that by the skin of his teeth is fine, so long as he keeps going.

And with that, we’re through the first obstacle, and onto the second… next update. I need to close my eyes for a moment because headache, bleh.

[violetwolfraven]

Willie Headcanons

So I actually came up with this like a month ago and forgot to post it. Anyway enjoy my headcanons about our favorite sk8er boi. Be ready for feels.

Tw: death, car accident mention, emotional manipulation.

...

In my mind, Willie had a good relationship with his parents. They were supportive and everything. They both loved Willie very much.

And Willie has youngest child energy so I’m saying he has a sister who’s 2 years older and a brother who’s 5 years older. Their names are Delilah and Austin.

AND ALL THREE OF THEM ARE ADRENALINE JUNKIES.

Seriously imagine the worst possible combination of head empty only skateboarding and you’ve got Willie, Delilah, and Austin.

Austin started skating when he was 7 and got Delilah hooked on it a year later.

Their parents kinda didn’t like the idea of it but those two had already started teaching Willie basic stuff by the time he was 3.

But... the other two had other interests. Delilah was into art (painting) and Austin played piano (like, really well).

For Willie, skateboarding was his thing. And it always was.

He had fun with it when his big brother would put his hands on his and teach him to play a bit, or his sister would give him some paint and a spare canvas and they’d doodle together, but it wasn’t like skating.

As far as I’ve seen (which admittedly isn’t that far) it’s widely accepted that Willie has ADHD so I’m leaning into that here.

And Willie inherited his brain from his dad, who had a bad experience with meds and so wouldn’t let any of his kids go through it.

So Willie grew up unmedicated but probably better off for the time period. His dad taught him coping mechanisms. Him and Austin. Delilah didn’t inherit it but she was taught to empathize with her brothers and recognize when they needed her help with something.

She’s a badass who can and does beat up anybody who’s mean to her brothers for missing social cues.

But anyway while Austin had piano (and skating as a side thing) Willie got even more hooked on skateboarding than either of his siblings because his brain latched onto it from a young age and couldn’t let go.

We all have our outlets. The chaos in our brains has to go somewhere. For Willie it goes into skating.

When he’s young he and his siblings will skateboard to school and then after school they’ll skate all around Hollywood for hours.

They do their homework in random McDonalds and Denny’s and tbh become local cryptid customers. Like they’re just these 3 super friendly skater siblings who tip really well and visit every fast food place within a 20 mile radius of their house with varying frequency.

They also find e v e r y skatepark, empty pool, and vacant lot in that 20 mile radius that they can possibly find.

Their parents have to bail them out of jail for trespassing and the occasional vandalism every so often.

Sometimes one of them has stuff to do and it’s just two of them out skating but if two of them are busy the other one never goes out alone cause it’s dangerous. We’ll get back to that later.

So anyway when they’re 17, 14, and 12, Delilah comes out as a lesbian.

And the family is supportive of course because they’re a good family.

But her coming out gets Willie thinking. About how some of his friends have crushes on girls but he just... doesn’t see the appeal.

Like he has a couple friends who are girls and they’re great and he likes hanging out with them at recess but he doesn’t get the hype. They’re just more friends. So he doesn’t really see what his big sister is so interested in either.

In my mind Willie actually is from around the same time as the boys (dying in like 1999) so one day while nobody else in their house is home he and Delilah are watching Star Wars: Return of the Jedi and Willie’s again wondering why people think Leia is so hot cause she’s cool and all but Luke is right there and he looks really good and—

Willie: I think I might be gay.

Delilah: Yeah I know.

They talk about it and Willie does decide to tell the rest of the family but he’s a bit wary about anyone else because he saw how some of Delilah’s friends turned on her after she came out. He doesn’t want that to happen to him.

He does end up telling a few of his friends but he doesn’t quite not care what people think of him the way his big sister does.

Austin is the only straight one and he’s like. So awkward about it but in a sweet way.

Austin: So, Britney Spears is hot, right?

Delilah: Stop.

And

Austin: So I saw you hanging around Chris the other day are you two..?

Willie: ...no...???

Austin: Cool, yeah I didn’t think so. Just had to make sure. Not that I’m doubting your ability to get boys but I’d have to shovel talk him if you were.

Willie: If I ever do get a boyfriend, please don’t.

He tries. He’s a himbo if that wasn’t clear. Where did you think Willie learned it?

So anyway fast forward a couple years and they’re 22, 19, and 17. Austin and Delilah are both in college and Willie’s the last one left at home and things between their parents start getting... tense.

Like they don’t fight exactly but they’ve fallen out of love and things are awkward.

Even Austin and Delilah can tell and they’re only home on breaks and some weekends but for Willie it’s right there and he’s watching it happen. He has no option but to see.

They used to have a rule that they don’t go skating alone because it’s dangerous but Willie just can’t make himself stay home so he goes out skateboarding.

At first it’s never too far from home or anywhere where there’s too much traffic but as things get increasingly awkward at home he goes out farther and farther, chasing the adrenaline high he used to get from going anywhere and everywhere every day after school with his siblings.

Then his parents officially tell him they’re getting divorced and

And it’s not like he couldn’t see it coming, but... it still hurts.

And neither of his siblings are coming home any time soon so

So he goes out skating on his own, way too far from home. He keeps going until he doesn’t even know where he is anymore.

He isn’t really paying attention the way he should but that’s not why he runs into trouble.

The driver of that red pickup is drunk and he rounds the corner out of nowhere.

If Delilah or Austin had been there they could have yelled for Willie to jump out of the way, or maybe up on the hood so the impact wouldn’t be as bad, but he’s alone.

So he gets hit, and the car was going fast enough that he’s dead before he even hits the pavement.

After that there’s a lot of confusion but once Willie figures out he’s a ghost... it’s too painful to think about going home, so he just... doesn’t.

He doesn’t want to see his family mourning him, so he just distracts himself, skating everywhere he couldn’t before without getting busted.

Plus some old routes where he used to go with Delilah and Austin, just for something that’s familiar but not too familiar.

He’s on one of those more familiar routes a few weeks after his death when he’s skating down Sunset Boulevard one night, singing along to Toxic by Britney Spears blasting from a nearby club and a man dressed in a purple suit comments on how he’s got a good voice.

Honestly Willie is just so relieved to have someone to talk to that he forgets about stranger danger completely.

Plus he recognizes an Elder Gay in Caleb and assumes he can trust him because the Elder Gays he met at pride that one time he went with Delilah were so nice and understanding of how reassuring it was to see queer people of older generations who got a happy ending.

Caleb barely even has to try. He just lets this 17-year-old obviously-queer ghost rant at him for a few minutes, asks a few questions and finds out that he also can play piano, and convinces him to come to the Hollywood Ghost Club the next night.

From there it’s not like Willie has anyone to save him so of course he has to join the club.

At first he’s completely alone because the other performers scare him almost as much as Caleb does.

Then slowly, he sees how they give him space because they know he’s scared of them. How they turn a blind eye when he leaves the club without permission. How they don’t critique his mistakes with the same sarcasm they show each other.

Willie starts to realize that the other performers are doing their best to look out for him, and he starts being less afraid.

They’re all too concerned with their own survival to really protect him but if they draw some attention to themselves occasionally so Caleb doesn’t notice Willie being slow to pick up some tricky choreography, that’s not too risky.

The others are all like 21 at the youngest and they really don’t appreciate Caleb tricking a literal child into working for him no matter how talented said child is. (Cause Willie is good at singing and piano. It’s just not his passion.)

The twins are 22 but they died in 1925 and before that they were performing to support a younger brother who they never got to say goodbye to so maybe they see Willie as a kind of second chance.

Lyssa (what I decided to name drummer woman because I don’t know her real name if she has one) is 25 and she died in 1984. She had a daughter who’d be about Willie’s age now and... who knows? Maybe they were friends.

Fuego is 24 and from 1951 and he had a childhood best friend who enlisted and died in WWII that he thought he might get to see when he died but that boy moved on and so... well, Willie’s just a little younger than his friend was the last time he saw him.

In short Willie becomes everyone’s baby brother and they do what they can to look out for him even if they’re just as scared of Caleb as he is.

And the better adjusted Willie gets to (after)life at the HGC and the better they get to know him, the guiltier the others start to feel about him being stuck there.

Eventually a combination of guilt and worked-up courage leads Fuego tells him about the whole unfinished business thing, in hopes maybe he can figure his out and get away from Caleb.

It doesn’t take Willie long to think of his family, how hopeless he felt about the divorce, how worried he was it would change everything and then how scared he was to see his family in pain because of his death.

He realizes his unfinished business is probably seeing them. Letting himself say goodbye.

He almost gets away with it.

Caleb catches up and stops him in the driveway of his house and poofs them back to the HGC.

He convinces (gaslights) Willie into believing that saying goodbye was never his unfinished business and even if it was it’s not like it would matter because Caleb wouldn’t let him do it.

The next morning he ships the HGC out to Tokyo. They stay on the move for a long time and when they are in town, Willie is basically locked in his room.

The next time he’s allowed out in Hollywood, his parents don’t live in their old house anymore and he has no way to find them.

As a coping mechanism, he just starts making the best of a bad situation. Becoming better friends with the other ghosts. Helping soften the blow whenever someone new comes along.

None of that means he stops checking the faces of passing skaters or keeping eyes on restaurants his folks used to like, but it does mean he more or less gives up hope.

That’s what he’s doing when he bumps into Alex.

Look, Willie loves his friends at the HGC. He really does. But there’s a big difference between 17 and 20-something. Like the others will drink alcohol some nights and technically Willie was born over 21 years ago but he still feels weird enough about it that he doesn’t drink.

He hasn’t talked to anyone his age in a long time so Alex is a breath of fresh air.

Also he’s like. Really cute. And sweet. And funny. And shit, Willie’s fallen for him before he even has time to think about it.

He keeps thinking about how Alex doesn’t seem like he’d be physically capable of hurting someone on purpose so Austin would approve and every once in a while there’s that sarcasm that pops out which means he’d get along great with Delilah.

In general Alex is the kind of guy he would’ve loved to take home to meet the family. Them not included, he’s kind of... everything Willie’s missed about Hollywood in the form of one person.

Then they hang out more and Alex is still everything he’s missed but he’s also so much more than that and...

It almost feels like a part of Alex is still alive. And for the first time in years, a part of Willie feels alive, too.

They’ve known each other for like a week tops and Willie is already in love.

Not that he’s admitting that to anyone, because he’s learned the hard way that anyone you care about can be used against you.

Still... when Alex asks for help getting revenge on Bobby, he can’t bring himself to say no because he needs to keep Alex in his (after)life and the only way he knows how to do that (or to make people be nice to him in general) is to be as useful as possible.

That turns out to be a big mistake, because Caleb sees right through him in an instant, targets Alex to confirm it, then immediately starts the process to trick the boys into committing to eternity at the HGC.

Willie feels like an idiot for thinking he could actually get away with it. Doing something good for someone he cares about.

He hadn’t thought Caleb would be interested in them because he’d never actually heard them play. The assumption was that he’d make them do some small favor and then let them talk to their bandmate for 5 minutes. A clean deal where they never have to commit to anything. Willie forgot to take magic into account.

He almost manages to convince himself it was all a bad dream, but when he seeks out Alex and his friends to check on them, he can almost feel the jolts himself, and seeing Alexthem in pain feels terrible.

Willie knows that theoretically they could figure out their unfinished business and cross over, but that all depends on finding it and doing it fast enough and if they failed...

People you care about can be used against you. And Willie does not want to be used against Alex again. He doesn’t want to see Alex used against him.

So he keeps his distance, in hopes Caleb will think he lost interest. He’s pretty sure once the boys find out about the stamp they’ll hate him, anyway.

And plus, as he’s been taught by his friends at the HGC, you have to look out for yourself because no one else will do it for you. Maybe you hurt somebody by not standing up for them, but you can apologize later and hope they forgive you. You can’t apologize if you’re gone, and it’s not like it would make a difference anyway because Caleb is too powerful for anyone to beat.

The thought of how spending eternity with Alex might not be so bad even if it has to be at the HGC does come up, but ironically that’s what makes Willie decide to screw his courage to the sticking point and tell them.

Because he has seen what decades at the club has done to his friends.

They’re all great performers, and they perform happiness well even to each other, but Willie knows them enough to know how tired they all are. How they have been doing the same thing over and over again for decades and they are sick of it.

They’re young, talented tragedies lost to drug overdoses, or AIDS, or accidents, or suicide, and they should’ve gotten to rest after everything they went through in their lives. Instead, they got a curse disguised as a blessing. They got to stay on a stage, got to keep performing and soaking up applause, never got to stop.

Willie has been there a shorter time than most of them and he feels it. The exhaustion, because ghosts are supposed to haunt for a few years then figure out their unfinished business and move on. They’re not meant to be trapped for decades, used as party tricks.

A part of Alex still feels alive and being trapped in the Hollywood Ghost Club for years on end would kill that part of him.

Willie can’t let that happen, so as hard as it is...

He tells the boys what’s wrong with them. And by that hurt, betrayed look in Alex’s eyes, he’s honestly expecting him to never forgive him.

But then Alex does. And that almost hurts worse because whether he figures out his unfinished business or not, Willie doubts he’s ever going to see him again.

He honest to God almost cries when Alex hugs him because... shit, he hasn’t gotten a hug since he was breathing.

He goes back to the HGC and tries to go about his day, and keeps replaying how good it felt to have Alex’s arms around him, hoping that memory will get him through the next few decades on his own.

The ghosts at the club do actually gossip a fair amount and by this point all of them know about the 3 dead members of Sunset Curve.

So when Willie admits to Helen (what I’m calling one of the twins) that Alex hugging him was the first time he’d gotten a hug since he died, she hugs him tight for a good 20 seconds, telling him she’s sorry he has to lose him, and if Willie closes his eyes he can almost pretend it’s Delilah.

The next thing he knows, he’s locked in a closet.

Caleb comes to talk to (intimidate) him a few hours later, saying he knows what Willie did.

He’s magically locked in his room alone for a couple weeks after that and it’s essentially psychological torture.

Helen, Anna (what I decided to call the other twin), Dante, Fuego, Lyssa, and everyone else tell him not to test Caleb for the next couple years, but Willie has a heart full of love and a head full of fuck it, so he doesn’t listen.

He gives it exactly one day of being/acting scared and obedient, then goes out without permission again, fully intending to scream in a museum alone to let out all his feelings.

Remember: Willie didn’t see the Orpheum performance. He doesn’t know the boys didn’t cross over but by Caleb’s mood he has a feeling the outcome of that scenario was not in the magician’s favor.

He gets there and it’s literally this comic by the very talented @williessweatycherrysocks

He can’t stay long but he and Alex scream in each other’s faces, talk a bit, maybe sing a duet.

After that, they sneak to see each other when they can but don’t get to see much of each other for months.

It’s hard on both of them but they don’t give up on their relationship.

Through long and complicated events which I will outline later, Willie eventually gets free of the HGC, hugs his friends goodbye already making plans to take down Caleb for good to free them, too, and promptly declines an offer to stay in the Molinas’ garage.

As much as he wants to be close to Alex he’s done being confined to one place.

He still comes and visits like every day tho.

He knows a lot more about ghosting than the other boys do so he and Carlos get along amazingly like:

Carlos: So do you know who Jack the Ripper was?

Willie: No? How old do you think I am?

Carlos: I dunno but I thought it might be Caleb cause that would explain how he never got caught.

Willie, taking notes in his Things To Potentially Use To Take Caleb Down notebook: You’re a tiny genius.

No one was expecting it but everyone is in awe of how well he and Carrie get along. Between the two of them they know so much celebrity gossip. (and it’s definitely a good thing he’s on good terms with her cause she and Alex are close)

On the angsty side, Willie also bonds with Nick over how they both know how it feels to be manipulated and used by Caleb.

Also it takes a long time before he’s able to trust him, but he does get adopted into the Molina clan by Ray.

Ray reminds him a lot of his own dad, once Willie’s able to see that he’s nothing like Caleb.

Ray’s honestly just 100% happy to Dad™️ anyone who needs a dad so it works out great once Julie and the boys figure out how to make Willie visible.

But anyway back to important stuff.

Now that they don’t have to hide for any reason, Willie and Alex can both breathe a little easier. Or... they both feel better. Ghosts don’t really breathe.

Willie can finally let himself get used to feeling alive again.

The whole ghost gang goes (invisibly) to the Los Feliz Homecoming dance and maybe it should make him feel a little on-edge with the kind of club-like environment but...

He’s got Alex there, and they’re dancing to some corny pop love song from the 90s that Flynn probably put on because she knew the ghost boys would be there so how could he feel anything but safe?

For a minute it almost feels like actually being alive and there’s yellow and pink and blue lights coming from everywhere reflecting in Alex’s eyes and Willie is suddenly very aware of the fact that though they’ve been together for a long time now, they haven’t had their first kiss.

Then the Cha Cha Slide starts up and the atmosphere switches and Willie totally forgets about the whole romantic tension thing because it’s the Cha Cha Slide everybody has to dance along.

Dirty Candi performs towards the end of the night and the ghost boys cheer the loudest despite how Julie’s laughing at them. They don’t care that Carrie can’t even hear them, they’re being supportive!!!

Everybody screams even louder when Flynn runs up on stage and kisses Carrie and Willie feels a big burst of affection at how Alex shouts ABOUT TIME!

Then he gives Willie a quick hug and leaves cause he and the rest of Julie and the Phantoms have to go get set up for their performance.

Since Alex was able to flip Carrie’s hair in All Eyes on Me I’m saying that ghosts can touch lifers if they focus and believe it will happen hard enough, so the ghost gang has developed a system for alerting their non-Julie lifer friends to their presence.

So while they’re waiting in the crowd Willie taps Carrie on the shoulder like: • - - one short tap, two long taps, a Morse code ‘W’ and Carrie lets Flynn know that he’s there.

(Nick can see him too but Nick’s off somewhere with his date {one of his lacrosse teammates you know the one})

Anyway so Julie goes out and starts up the song and then the rest of the band poofs in but

Something’s unusual.

Cause it’s not Luke on the lower main vocals.

It’s

Alex

Singing while he plays the drums and fucking killing it.

Willie totally bluescreens for a second but then when he actually focuses on the lyrics...

It’s a new song about beating the odds and being with the person you love in spite of the challenges that come with them.

And yeah there are Julie elements in there, (and she’s definitely making heart eyes at Luke even as he sticks to backup vocals) because of course there are since she has to start the song up, but

But Willie might not have any formal music training, but he was at the HGC long enough to know his stuff about music and recognize different artists’ styles.

And there’s a time signature switch on the bridge that’s a little off from how Luke would write it. There’s a swing to the melody that’s a bit more ‘pop’ than the band’s usual songs. Julie’s harmony doesn’t go as high as it normally would, as if whoever wrote the song didn’t have as high of an upper range to work with as she does.

The song is so unmistakably Alex that no one else could have written it.

Flynn and Carrie are quietly making smug comments on what they bet his face looks like right now but Willie’s not listening to them.

On the last chorus, Alex fucking winks at him right before poofing out.

Willie has whiplash like how did they go from him having to psych Alex up to break into a museum even when there’s zero chance of getting caught to Alex openly flirting with him from the stage?

He poofs backstage right as the boys get back from dropping their instruments back in the Molinas’ garage and he honestly doesn’t know what he even wants to say to convey how amazing that performance was.

Then Alex just smiles at him.

Alex: So I take it you liked the song?

Willie: Can I kiss you right now?

They both kinda freeze after he blurts that out and Reggie goes wow really quietly before he and Luke poof out to give them some privacy and whoops now they’re both flustered but

Alex: Wow, didn’t expect that. That’s... um, wow. But yeah.

They kiss and it’s a total romcom moment.

And the story’s far from over, but to Willie this definitely feels like happily ever after.

[tanakavox]

A look into the multiverse chapter 8 SAOA

Many thanks to my friend friend @bssaz97 for his work on the reactions. And TheGoldenBoy2188 for the strict for SAOA making writing easy. The next reaction will be a suprise so stay tune.

Amidst the streets of Mantle, Whitley Schnee walked towards a destination while wearing a disguise consisting of a coat, scarf, shaded glasses, and a flat cap. He had a mission and he would not waste this opportunity!

It was not every day that he could simply leave the manor without Father's permission or notice so he needed to be quick but not noticeable. He had waited months for this day to arrive. Whitley had pre-ordered the latest MMO game of his favorite game series a week before the initial release date and had come to pick it up. Having connections in the right places certainly did have its benefits. The only downside was he had to acquire his prize somewhere outside of his father's notice. So what other place to go than Atlas's sister kingdom.

Outside of his notice, a young white haired faunus woman with sheep ears followed close behind him. Fiona Thyme was out picking up some food for the rest of the Happy Huntresses when she noticed an unfamiliar person walking around. She knew almost everyone on this side of Mantle, so a new person popping out of the blue was very suspicious. Normally she would have reported this back to Robyn but upon further inspection she recognized who this person was.

It was the sole son of the worst man on Remnant and the newly appointed heir of the Schnee Dust Company, Whitley Schnee! Why was he here in Mantle?! Fiona determined he was up to no good and decided to follow him. Wherever the SDC goes, trouble usually follows!

Whitley finally arrived at the destination he was seeking… the Post Office! Now all he had to do was open the door, enter the establishment aaaaaand- stare dumbfounded as the inside of this place was a theatre.

"What the-? This isn't the post office. Where am I?!" Whitley shouted at no one in particular.

"Ah-ha! Caught you right where I- Huh? Where the hell? This isn't the post office!" Fiona also dumbfounded.

"Whitley?" Both Weiss and Winter stated in a mix of shock and disbelief at seeing their little brother. Maybe some hostility on Weiss part.

"Weiss? Winter? How-?"

"What the hell is this?!" A loud female voice shouted as four more people arrived out of nowhere. Consisting of two normal sized humans, a bunny faunus and a very large man.

"Coco/Velvet/Fox/Yatsuhashi!" Teams RWBY and JNR said collectively.

"Oh hello everyone! This… is a surprise! When did you get to Vacuo?" Velvet asked the group.

Fiona turned towards the new strangers, "Vacuo? What are you talking about? You're all in Mantle?"

"I'm most certain we're in Vacuo at the time." Yatsu spoke.

"You are in neither at the moment." Ozpin spoke up.

"What the- Teach? Weren't you supposed to be dead?!" Coco confusingly points out.

"I believe an explanation is in order."

*One short but informative explanation later*

"Wait so we were brought here to watch… alternate realities?" Fiona says after she and all the new arrivals had been told everything about the theater.

"We call them viewings but yeah pretty much." Ruby said.

"Hold on, I can understand why all of you were brought here, seeing as you all are huntsmen and huntresses. But that doesn't explain why I'm here." Whitley, having taken off his disguise.

"A great question indeed." Weiss mutters.

"I think I have a theory." Blake stepped forward. "So far now, I've noticed that the people who are here have at least some involvement in the viewings that we have been seeing. Remember that one viewing we saw of Whitley being stuck inside a video game?"

"I was stuck in a video game?"

"Also if you die in the game you die for real." Nora added.

Whitley's eyes widened at the implications.

"Well you're still stuck as far as we know. But apparently you're very good at the game so you might be fine." Jaune clarifies. Slightly feeling guilty that his alternate is the one who traps him there.

"Oh joy, now I'm trapped inside a place against my will in two realities!" Whitley throws his hands in frustration.

"Oh boo hoo! Is the rich boy gonna cry because nothings going his way today?" Fiona says in a mocking tone.

"Oh I'm sure you would know so much about crying and complaining about trivial things, thief." He shot back at Fiona.

"At least I think about the people of Mantle! When was the last time you thought of someone outside of yourself, Schnee!" Fiona retorted.

Winter sensing that this conversation was going nowhere stepped in between her brother and the happy huntress.

"Enough! None of us came here by choice so let's just stop this pointless arguing and move on."

Fiona huffed, "I couldn't agree more." She stomped away from the two siblings and found herself a seat in the theater.

Winter sighed, "It may not be ideal but as long as you are here Whitley, I would just suggest sitting tight and wait until you or all of us are able to leave this place."

"Hmph, very well. Thank you sister, it almost sounds like you care." Whitley took his leave and found a seat that was about four seats away from Weiss's team.

"Isn't there anywhere else you want to sit," Weiss practically hisses.

"Oh but Weiss it's the only seat that's close enough to you." Whitley affirmed.

Weiss groans in frustration, 'Hopefully it's only for one viewing…'

An acoustic guitar plays in the background as a montage of the events of and post-Episode 1 appears on the screen and a narrator began to talk.

" A month had passed since that fateful day. When everyone's world got all twisted, leaving them stranded in a castle in the sky. Since then, 2000 poor souls came to an abrupt and tragic end. Some by bad luck, others by sheer stupidity. I mean, really. Why would you just stand in fire? Anyways, that didn't bother The Kid none. He only cared about one thing, and one thing alone. Himself. 'Cuz in a game of life or death, you either live... or you die."

The scene transitions to Shirou leaning against a wall with an annoyed look on his face.

"What?! Two thousand of the players have died already!" Ruby yelled, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Not surprising, seeing as many of them looked weak last viewing." Cinder coolly replies.

Many huntsmen and huntresses glared at the red clad woman. She paid them no mind.

"Well thank you very much Narrator, you're doing a wonderful job of explaining the total death count of this video game prison." Whitley commented dryly.

"Oh, WOW. What brilliant insight! It's so deep it loops right back around to being stupid." Shirou snarked.

"The Kid ranted at no one, it slowly dawning just how alone he truly was" Narrator continued..

Whitley's eyes narrowed, "Am I being sassed by the narrator?"

"Maybe you said something to piss them off." Fiona added.

"Wait, what was that?" Shirou asks, shocked.

"He asked the sky, like a preacher to his silent gods."

"What gods? What are you talking about?! It's all bullshit metaphors with you!"

"He cried, not knowing the difference between a simile and a metaphor. The tininess of his brain dwarfed only by the tininess of his di-"

Whitley's eyes narrowed and face twitched at how much of an annoyance this narrator was being.

Weiss was doing her best to conceal her smile but was failing and breathes out a laugh. She was enjoying the exchange that her brother was going through and found it amusing. Her team gave her a side glance while Fiona and a few others laughed at the roast session the young Schnee was being given.

"Narrator off." Shirou commands the system with an annoyed tone.

"YOUCANSILENCEMEBUTYOUCAN'TSILENCETHETRU-" The narrator got cut off.

"Dick."

"Thank gods that's over, that narrator was extremely rude." Whitley sighed thankfully now that the narrator was silenced.

Weiss and Fiona grumbled that their fun was ruined.

Fade into December 2, 2022, on a strategy meeting led by man called Diabel. He gave a big smiled out to the crow

"Hey everyone. Thank you all for coming to our little powwow. Now, I know many of you may be discouraged by the fact that 2000 people have died so far."

" WHAT?!" A player screamed

" 2000 PEOPLE ARE DEAD?!" Another screamed.

"IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN A MONTH YET!"

"OH MY GOD, WE REALLY ARE FUCKED!"

"Pretty much, sucks to be you!" Mercury laughed.

"These are the people that have to survive this game. Honestly what was blondie expecting," Emerald facepalms.

"Hey! Just because they've lost numbers doesn't mean that they have to lose hope!" Ruby glared at the two assassins.

"And I know even more of you are a little down because we haven't even cleared the First Floor yet." Diabel added, trying to keep the smile on his face.

"WE HAVEN'T?!"

"I THOUGHT WE WERE ALMOST DONE...!"

"You were saying." Cinder looked back at Ruby.

"Well…" Ruby trailed off, thinking of a way to defend these players.

Diabel's smile wavered

"Uh, you guys do know there are 100 Floors, right?"

"WHAT?!" A crowd of players yelled.

Diabels sighed a bit.

Ruby, despite her best attempts, also sighed and sat back down.

"Oh jeez, I am just making things worse. Point is, we found the Boss Room!"

The crowd gasps.

"Now, we've formulated a few strategies with some help from the beta testers-"

"BETA TESTERS?!" A voice yells out.

"Oh goddammit!" Diabel groaned argnily

A player named Kibaou jumps in.

Kibaou, what do you want? Diabel looked tired addressing this player.

"Beta testers? They're the reason we're stuck in this game!" Kibaoyu sneered

Many that heard this player's statement and quickly frowned at his blatant accusations towards these 'beta-testers.'

"This guy can't be serious, right?" Coco stated.

Dianel looked at Kibaou flatterausted at the stupidity of the statement he heard

"What?! Do you have any evidence to back that up?"

Kiabrou scoffed at the question. "Pfft! Evidence. I don't need no evidence. Isn't that right, Jesus?" He points to a player named "Jesus"

" It's pronounced "Hey-Zeus", and I don't know you."

"Wow, really selling your reasoning by having no one else to support your claim." Jaune stated while crossing his arms.

"Well, they still should have helped us newbies!" He exclaimed

"If I might interject...:" A deep voice called out.

A big muscular man gets up and comes to the stage.

Velvet taps Yatsu's arm excitedly, "Hey you're in this game too Yatsu! …oh gods you're in this game too."

"So it seems," Yatsu, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Coco lowered her shades along with a confused look. As far as she knew, Velvet was the only one who played video games on their team. Unless...

"And who the hell are you?!"

"I am known by many names.", "Closed eyed demon. The memory easer., "Hooked clawed tiger". But you? You may call me... "Velvet".

"Velvet huh? That's a... pretty masculine name." Kibaoru said adwarkley

"Shouldn't be. It's a woman's name." Velvet replied casually.

"Damn it. I had a feeling but I didn't want to be right." Coco cursed quietly while shaking her head.

"Wait, why would Yatsu have a character named after me? That doesn't- ...Oh ...oh my gods." Velvet's eyes widened at the implications, tears starting to build. That is until she felt a nudge on one of her shoulders. She turned her head and there was Yatsuhashi looking at Velvet with a gaze that said, 'It's not your fault.'

"Kay, I don't know how to talk to you."

"Good. Then you can shut up and listen. Does everyone here have this book in their inventory?"

" Yeah.

" Yes."

"Yup."

"Yeah."

" No... Wait, can I change my answer?"

Velvet/Yatsushi held up a book to show to everyone.

" This book is full of tips and strategies on how to survive this game, put together by the beta testers. Everyone read it, yet some people still died. The beta testers did everything they could."

"Yeah, that means Mace Hair has no reason to blame the beta testers!" Ruby points out.

Many of her friends nodded and Yastu's team smiled at the sound defense his alternate presented.

" Actually, I didn't read it." One player chimed up.

"Yeah, I didn't read it either."

"I skimmed it."

"OH COME ON!" Many members of the audience shouted in agitation.

"What? Didn't ANY of you read it?! It is literally a matter of life and death." Velvet exclaimed

"Well, dude. It's like 80 pages." A player pointed

"2000 people are dead!"

"THEY ARE?!"

"Again. These are the people that have to survive this game." Emerald reiterates.

Brief pause. Shirou looks shocked at their stupidity.

"I am so done with you people." Velvet mutters, walking off the stage.

" What do you mean "you people"?" A player asked a bit offended.

The Faunus in the room narrowed at their eyes at the implications made by that player.

"What do you mean, "you people"?" Fiona asks no one in particular.

Velvet and Kibaou take their seats.

Diabel continued with the meeting. "So, as Mister Hooked clawed tiger was saying, this book has some great strategies, including how to beat the First Boss, Illfang."

He clears his throat and starts reading from the guide.

"So as you enter the Boss Room, he's gonna throw wave after wave of disposable minions at you... and you must answer in kind."...?

"Uh, what?" A player asks, mirroring Diabel confusion.

Many in the audience reacted just as confused. All except Whitley, who had a good feeling where this was going.

Diabel continues

"Send the weaker players first. Good rule of thumb: If a player asks you for gold 2 seconds after meeting you, front lines."

"Ha, serves 'em right!" Kiaboru said with a laugh

"If they hijack conversations to rant about their political views, front lines."Diabel said with a smirk looking at Kiaboru.

Kibaou went pale. "Aw, shit."

"Ha! Serves you right!" Nora laughed.

"If they ask female players for pics of their boobs, front lines."

"OH BULLSHIT!" One player screamed out in rage.

"THAT'S DISCRIMINATION!" Another one howled.

"BOO!"

Many of the women in the theater frown at the way those players reacted. Winter was more than certain that those players were the type that participated in the mentioned acts the speaker spoke on.

Diabel smiles and waves them down. "Now, now, people. I think there are some valid points being made here. Now, it goes on to say when Illfang's health goes into the red, he's going to switch from his axe and buckler to something called a "Talwar". At that point we should initiate a strategy called "The Final Solution" and- I'm just gonna stop reading! Jesus, who wrote this thing?"

Shirou giggles evilly.

"Of course Whitley wrote that book." Weiss sighed.

"Why sister, it sounds like that didn't surprise you in the least." Whitley pretending to act hurt.

"Please. The manipulative tone of the text almost makes one sound too much like you." Weiss bit back.

"Well I suppose you would know." A wide smile on Whitley's face.

Weiss scoffs turning her head away from her traitorous brother.

Team R_BY and Winter watched the exchange and sighed.

"Okay, so the guide's a bust. But it'll be fine. I'll come up with a great plan for us." Diabel smiles at the crowed.

"Like what?"

" Well... we... could... Uh... Uhhhh... I'm open to suggestions."

"Woah, guys, we could- we could, you know, like, group up and-"

"And hit it 'til it DIES!" Another yelled finishing the other player sentence

"Woo, nice!"

"Yeah!"

" High five!"

The two hive five.

"Well. It's something, right?." Velvet does her best to be optimistic.

Many of the more experienced members of the theater shake their heads.

"That's... a good start. But let's hear some other suggestions."

"I'd like to hear more about this "Final Solution"." A player in a german accent piped up.

"Fuck it, group up." said Diabel said tirely.

Shirou slides down the seats towards a girl, named Fiona, who's on her own.

Fiona blinks in surprise, "Oh my gods, that's me! I'm in the game! Hey other me, stay away from the Schnee!"

"You have my condolences." Weiss says to the sheep faunus.

"So, why aren't, uh, you joining anyone's group?" Shirou asked.

"I have my reasons." She said mysterioly

" Is it because you're a girl?"

"No. It's because... I don't know how to play."

"Because you're a girl?"

Many of the females and males who enjoy video games, such as Yang, Ruby, Velvet, Nora,, Jaune, Oscar, Ren, surprisingly Mercury and Emerald, along with Fiona herself, threw questioning glares towards the current heir of the SDC. Weiss and Winter glared at him as well but for other reasons.

Whitley looks around to see all the glares directed towards him. "Why are you all looking at me? I said nothing."

"No!" Fiona snapped. "It's just... I don't know how to open the menu."

"What?" Both Fiona and Whitley asked.

"Jinx!" Nora shouts.

"What?!" Shriou looked at the girl in shock. "But you can't do anything in this game without the menu. How have you survived all month?"

Cut to Fiona holding a piece of bread. She is staring at it intensely. "HOW DO I EAT YOU?!" She screamed at it.

Many laughs were had at the poor girl's predicament, despite some of them doing their best to not do so but could not help themselves.

Fiona slowly sank into her chair, covering her face in shame. Her alternate was the utter definition of a newb player.

Back to the present.

"It's... been a challenge…" She muttered before looking at Shirou. "What about you? Why haven't you join the others?"

"Oh, lots of reasons. Mostly because they're a bunch of mouth-breathing neckbeards who think "LMAO" is how French people laugh."

" Ha ha, that's so Le Mao!" Said one player far away causing to Shirou shudder.

Whitley in the theater also shudders in disgust. If these were the people that he would have been surrounded by inside the game, then he too would have avoided them like a plague.

"Wow. You certainly... speak from the heart."

"Funny, I thought I was speaking from my mouth. But, eh, shows what I know about biology." He said with a smirk.

"No one else wanted you in their group, did they?"

"Shut up! It was mutual!"

"And who would blame me? Have you seen the players of this game? I'm honestly surprised they lived this long."

"You're just saying that 'cause no one wanted a smartass on their team." Fiona smirked.

"I'm sorry, were you speaking Menu Girl?" Whitley nonchalantly retorts.

Fiona's face grew red in embarrassment and agitation. She wanted nothing more than to raise her hand and activate her semblance right now. 'Give me a reason Schnee, I dare you.'

It cuts back to Diabel smiling and clapping his hands.

"Alright, looks like everyone's grouped up. Get plenty of rest tonight, people! We leave at noon!"

A player groans "Noon?"

"That's so early!"

Diabel sighs. "Alright. What about 1 o'clock?"

" Dude, come on!"

" God, fine! We leave at the crack of... 2:30, I guess. Lazy butts…"

"Christ, I'm gonna have to set my alarm."

Everyone in the theater did not have high expectations for these players as they would face their first challenge.

Cuts to December 3, 2022 Floor 1: Illfang's Tower, 7:30pm. Everyone's at the Boss Door and everyone except Diabel is exhausted.

"Okay, so there were a few more stairs than we realized. Apparently real life athletic ability translates into the game. Good to know." Diabel looked out to the sad sight in front of him.

"Oh, god. I can feel my lungs trying to kill me." One player whined.

" Is this sweat?!"

" I peed a little."

" Jesus, this is sad." Diabel said with a grimace.

One player vomits.

"Congrats Jaune, someone else has now become the new Vomit Boy of this viewing!" Yang exclaimed.

Jaune rolled his eyes at her attempt at making him feel better.

"Fuck it. Why don't you all just take a Cheetos and Mountain Dew break, and we'll reconvene in an hour."

1960 Batman-Esque transition with Cheetos and Mountain Dew.

" Dammit, guys! I was kidding! You weren't supposed to actually take an hour!" Dibal said in a rage."God, we've lost so much time. Let's just do this already! You all know the plan!"

Illfang jumps into the center of the room and roars. Kobolds pop in, and an error message pops up on the third one that says "Error: "Sentinel_ " not found."

Ruby and Nora laughed at the mob that got glitched.

"Alright, men!" Diabel began,"Form up and-"

"EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" A player screams

The armies converge on each other.

"Are they serious! You can't just go gung-ho in a boss battle!" Jaune exclaimed at the increasingly apparent, dim-witted players.

"What?! No! Goddammit guys!" Diabel begins to bark out orders. "Squad B, quit attacking the Boss and keep the Sentinels off us! C, D, stop attacking from the front! Do you even know what "flank" means?! Squad F, for fuck's sake! Stop playing Bejeweled! *Groans* Squad G, get in there and help A and B!"

"Got it!" Shirou said with a nod rushing in.

"Don't talk back to…" Diabel did a double take."l Holy shit, really?!"

"How is Whitley the most sensible minded player in this game?!" Weiss asked.

"Weiss, have you seen the other players?" Blake asked her in a deadpanned tone.

"...Yes you're right, that's actually too much of an insult." Weiss admits.

Shirou attacks a Sentinel, leaving Fiona to finish it off.

"Okay, Fiona! What you're gonna wanna do here is-"

Fiona lets out a Battle Cry and kills the Sentinel in one hit.

Fiona in the theater perked up at this display, "Oh my- I can fight! Oh thank gods I can fight!"

Shirou eyes widened in shock "Wow, I thought she was hopeless, but her technique is flawless. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's even better than I-"

"Hey Shirou! I killed the thing and now it says I have XPs! Is that bad? Am I dying?! Fiona cried out to him in fear."

Shirou rolls his eyes"Or... maybe... not."

"Miss Fiona, either your alternate is very lucky or is very out of base with technology. I can't tell which it is." Whitley stated.

"Shut up Schnee, she's trying!" Fiona defends her other self.

Illfang's health drops into the red. He snarls at the players and he tosses his weapons.

"Alright, men! This last part's gonna take careful coordination…" Diabel ran towards Illfang. "which is why I'm just gonna do it myself!"

Diabel charges his weapon art. Illfang draws his Ōdachi.

Ruby's eyes widened, "OH NO!"

Shirou looked and saw the weapon and his eyes widened calling to Diabel. "Oh shit! Diabel, look out! That's not a Talwar! It's an Ōdachi!"

"What's the difference?!" Diabel ask still running towards Illfang.

"Well, a Talwar is of Indian descent while an Ōdachi is Japanese! While both are primarily slashing weapons, the Talwar was favored by cavalrymen, as opposed to an Ōdachi which was mainly used for dick measuring!" As Shirou is talking, Illfang starts jumping off the walls.

" What's your point?!" Diabel asked impaintely.

"Well if you let me finish, I was getting to that! You see…"

Diabel gets hit by Illfang, screaming in pain.

Many of the huntsmen and huntresses in the theater either gasped in fear or looked away at the surely doomed player.

"What's happening? Did I miss something?" Fox called out.

"Oops." Shirou sheepishly said.

Illfang hits Diabel again, sending him flying.

"DIABEL!" Kibaou yelled out.

Illfang pops down in front of Kibaou and roars. A message pops up "Bonus Item: Soiled Pants". Above Kibaou

"Hey, rare drop!' A player said cheerfully.

Mercury laughed at the joke while most of the others were disgusted by the fact that that achievement was unlockable.

Shirou runs over to Diabel and holds him up.

" I was trying to say an Ōdachi's a little bit longer than a Talwar, so it'll have more reach and do a bit more damage."

"And why couldn't you say that first?" Diabel asked weakly

"Yeah you dummy! You almost might've killed him!" Ruby cries out.

Whitley was actually taken aback by that statement. Sure he had moments of pride and arrogance, sometimes he looked down on people but he didn't believe he would ever intentionally kill someone.

" I like to think of myself as a teacher. Anyway, drink this."

Shirou tries to give Diabel a healing potion but he stopped Shirou shaking his head.

"No. It's better this way. I just can't do it anymore. I had such high hopes at first. But now? Our best player is a girl who thinks DPS is some kind of sex thing." Both turned to glance to Fiona.

"I know. It's weird, right?"

Fiona sulked more into her chair.

"You're clearly not like the rest of them. How do you stand it, Shirou? Where do you draw your strength?" Diabel look at Shirou like a sage.

Shirou sigh and drops his wisdom onto him. "I've been playing MMO's a long time, Diabel, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that lions do not concern himself with the opinions of sheep. Just take that little voice in your head that tells you to be tactful and understanding... and shoot it. Shoot it in the goddamn face."

" You are so wise. If only I'd met you sooner. Perhaps, things would have been different. You must lead them now. Show them this game can be beaten." Diabel let's go of Shirou wrist.

Weiss was taken aback that this man was actually willing to place trust in this alternate of her brother. This stranger who barely even knows him placed the lives of all the players into his hands. Much like how she tried to trust Whitley once… this caused a bitter frown to grow on her face in recollection. Even if this was a different version of him, it was still Whitley in her eyes.

Shirou smiles fondly at Diabel. "Another life... in another time... I think we could have been friends."

"I... doubt it." Diabel gasps out before turning to shattered glass, dying.

" Well fuck you, too!" Shirou said angrily his smile dropping into a frown.

Fiona slips in by Shirou's side and began to lay out a plan.

"Alright, Shirou. Here's what we'll do. One counters his blows to knock him off balance and the other switches in to attack. Rinse. Repeat. Victory."

Shirou looked at her with one eye. "You came up with that, but you can't open a menu."

"Shut up!" Fiona cried out.

Illfang roars and they take off running toward him.

"Alright, so you counter and I'll attack!" Shirou yelled to Fiona.

"What? No, it's my plan! I should attack!" Fiona yelled back.

"Fine, just get ready!"

Shirou makes a battle cry and counters Illfang's attack.

"SWITCH!"

Fiona moves in and gets her cloak destroyed by Illfang before attacking revealing white curly hair and sheep ears.

" See? You almost got yourself killed! I'll attack him!" Shirou yelled again and began to attack Illfang.

"Oh, that was a fluke, and you know it! He's mine!" Fiona yelled back.

Fiona attacks Illfang.

"Oh shit. They're actually giving that boss the work!" Coco called out.

"He's mine!" Shirou yelled.

Shirou blocks Illfang's next attack, but Fiona attacks him before Shirou can do so himself.:

"Mine!" Fiona screams

"NO! HE'S! MIIIIIIIIIIINE!"

Shirou slices Illfang and he explodes. Everyone is stunned. Lame party kazoo sound effect and a banner with the word "CONGRATULATION" appears.

"Yeah!" A player cheer.

This caused almost everyone in the audience to laugh. Despite the dark humor of it all, it was still pretty hilarious.

"What happened? Did they win?" Fox asks

"Oh yes, I'm sorry Fox! They beat the boss and a victory banner came out."

"...heh." Fox chuckled.

Shirou is panting. He gets an item as a reward for defeating the Boss.

"Congratulations!" Velvet said, patting him on the back. "That was even more impressive than that cat that learned to play."

Cut to a player with a cat's head, with another player staring at it.

"Meow."

"Huh what did you know?" Yang replied.

"Oh my god! You guys can see it too?! So I'm not crazy! Isn't that great, Jesus?!" We see things from the players' perceptive, with a giant hallucination of Jesus Christ looming over the crowd.

"That's right, Jeffrey. Now... kill them all." Jesus said, his voice growing darker.

"As you command, my Lord." Jeffrey whispered.

"Somethings very wrong with that guy." Qrow states.

"I honestly agree with you, Branwen… Blegh! That left a horrible taste in my mouth." Winter stated.

Cut back to Velvet talking to Shirou. The other players are applauding his victory.

"You've led us to victory, Shirou. These men and I will follow you to hell itself. Now... address your people." Velvet is smiling and pushing Shirou to the crowd.

Shirou gets up and smirks. "I always knew this day would come. Ahem. Fellow gamers! We have traveled far and up many stairs to get to this point. Fighting side by side, noobs, and leets, alike. I'd like to take a moment to say that I couldn't have done it without the help of each and every one of you."

"Aw, that's a nice thing to say-" Velvet was cut off when Shirou counties.

"Of course, I'm not a liar, so I'm not gonna say any of that."

"Oh shit."

"I thought as much." Weiss states.

Shirou grins look at the group. "I mean, really. I could've done this whole Boss Fight myself. But to be fair, I guess you did absorb a bit of damage for me, which was nice. You were an adequate meat shield, and no one can ever take that away from you."

"Fuck. Fuck! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Velvet started to say.

"So for those of you who came in late, and that one guy playing Bejeweled back there... shoot for the stars... it'll make it more fun when I kick you back into the dirt."

"You're not better than us!" Kiaboru said.

"Yeah! What makes you think you're so cool?!" Nora shouts to the screen.

Shirou equips the coat he got for beating Illfang and smugly looks at the group."My sweet-ass coat begs to differ."

"Dammit, he's got us there." one player muttered.

Shirou ascends the stairs out of the Boss Room. Fiona follows him and grabs him by the shoulder. "Shirou, wait!"

Those in the audience looked on at Fiona's alternate in hope. Surely she could turn him around after their excellent display of partnership.

"I want half." She said, staring at him blankly.

That hope was quickly squashed, shot at, and finally burned to death via gasoline and cracking a fire dust crystal.

Shirou turns to her confused. " I'm... sorry. What?!"

"I want half the coat. I did half the work, I should get half the coat." Fiona explain and extends her hand for him give it to her.

"No! It's not fabric I can cut! It's just a bunch of 1s and 0s!" Shirou was getting frustrated.

"Fine, then give me the 1s."

" Fuck you! I want the 1s!" He groans and open the menu. "I am not having this argument. I'm disolving this party." Shirou opens his menu and "Di-solves" their party.

"Shirou! If you walk away with my half of the coat, I will make your life a living hell!" Fiona screamed.

"You know what? Fine! I'll give you the damn coat! Just send me a trade request."

"A... what?"

Fiona's eyes widened as she watched from the theater, "No…"

Shirou grins viciously "Oh, it's quite simple really... Just open your menu." Shirou starts laughing maniacally as he walks out the doors as Fiona screams at him:"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" At him.

Outro Plays.

Fiona screams, "I can't believe the nerve of that-! GRAAAAH!"

"Can you please stop screaming! You're going to cause everyone's ears to bleed." Whitley said while using a handkerchief to rub his ears.

Fiona huffed then matched off, going to another place in the theater.

"Well that was interesting. So you all say there's other viewings where we see other worlds besides this one." Coco asked the group.

"Oh yeah, we've seen a couple worlds ourselves, but only a handful I'd say." Yang admits.

"Well as long as we're here, we might as well take time to catch up." Velvet smiled.

"Yeah, this will be great! It's almost like we're back at Beacon, right Weiss? ...Weiss?" Ruby looks beside her but noticed that her partner was not with them anymore.

In another side of the theater, the all three Schnee siblings stand together. Both of the youngest siblings look at Winter who brought them here.

Winter clears her throat, "I understand that there are some… tension between the three of us during this viewing. So I asked you both here so that we may come to terms with our situation."

Weiss scoffs, "Come to terms with him! I highly doubt that."

Whitley crosses his arms, "Yes it does seem like a lost cause Winter."

"Enough! Both of you!" Winter raised her voice causing both of her younger siblings to go rigid. "I'm not expecting you to get along or even apologize to each other at the moment. What I ask is if you two can at least act civil with one another while in the theater?"

Both Weiss and Whitley looked at each other and sneered at each other.

"Why of course I can be civil with Whitley. It is a virtue of a lady to be civil at all times." Weiss said with hidden venom.

"Quite true, but being civil is also a quality an heir of the Schnee family must cultivate as well. So I look forward to spending this immeasurable amount of time with you my sisters." Whitley said with his best presentable smile.

"Yes, how I enjoy us taking this time to reacquaint with each other." Weiss said while one of her eyes was twitching.

"Well then sister, shall we?" Whitley gestured for Weiss to go ahead of him. Almost would have been believable if one did not notice the glint in his eyes and his strained smile.

Winter watched as both Weiss and Whitley walked back to the auditorium where everyone else had remained.

"...This can only end badly."

Hope you enjoyed.

[floral-and-fine]

When Light Enters the Wound part 1

Sandor Clegane x female reader

Title inspired by this quote: "The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”- Rumi

Summary: When The Hound is saved by brother Ray, he meets the woman who brought him back from the brink of death.

A/n: So I suddenly had the urge to write my first GOT fic, mostly because I'm thirsty for Sandor. Thank you @ewokiee​ and @liamakorn​ for all the help!

*not my gif

Cracking an eye open, Sandor was greeted by a heavenly sight, a lovely woman leaning over him as the sunlight shone upon her, resembling a divine glow. The sky above her was a brilliant blue and there was a gentle breeze that tickled his face.

Sandor felt fingertips delicately skim across his cheek and neck, her touch was so light and feathery that it caused goosebumps to appear in its wake.

Surely, he was hallucinating, his mind playing tricks on him as his body bled out, or perhaps it was a fever dream caused by infection. Either way, there was no way in hell any of this was real.

Not able to keep his eyes open any longer, he allowed sleep to take him. Sandor would consider himself a lucky man if he died in his sleep dreaming about a beautiful woman he’s never met, it was far better than the alternative, to continue rotting slowly on this godforsaken hill.

But when had he ever been lucky?

…

Sandor furrowed his brow as he opened his eyes, he had expected to either be dead or still outside waiting for a wild animal to finish him off, not in some tent.

Sitting up, he was shocked to find how good he felt, his body was well-rested, free of any aches and sores. Rolling his shoulders he noted that the gash that had been giving him such grief was gone and his leg had healed.

Immediately, he started patting the rest of himself down, lifting up his tunic, searching for any bruises or cuts, but there wasn’t a single scratch on him.

“What in the seven hells?” He muttered lowly. No healer in Westeros was this good or thorough, he should be dead…

His attention was drawn away from his thoughts, as the flap of the tent was drawn back and an older man with dark gray curls and sympathetic blue eyes stepped in.

The stranger chuckled to himself. “It’s nice to see you awake,” he commented, with a smile. “Honestly, I can’t believe you survived.”

Sandor grunted in response, “you and me both.”

The man sighed, crouching down. “I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he explained, with a shrug. “But you were so close to death, that even I doubted she could save you.”

Sandor’s eyes narrowed. “She who? Was this the work of some fucking witch?” He spat.

The man didn’t seem phased by Sandor’s aggression or accusation, actually having found it more entertaining than anything else.

“I don’t think she’s a witch,” he answered truthfully. “But I’m no expert on the matter.”

“So if you’re not the one who healed me, then who are you?” Sandor interrogated.

“Name’s Ray,” the man introduced himself. “I’m the Septon here.”

Sandor rolled his eyes, “course you are.”

“My flock and I have decided to settle down here in these parts.”

“Where’s here?”

The Septon smiled and gestured to the exit.

Sandor cautiously got to his feet, standing upright without any pain. How the hell had he been fortunate enough for some magical healer to find and save him?

He grimaced at the thought, he wasn’t sure what to think of it, seemed too good to be true, so there had to be a catch, some bullshit about the Lord of Light or The Seven.

Ray took a deep breath, breathing in the fresh air as he took in the sight. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

Sandor hummed half-heartedly, it was nothing special just hills, trees, same old shit he’s seen for months now since leaving King’s Landing.

As they walked, Sandor noticed everyone hard at work, women cooking, men building, children running and playing.

These people were the decent and simple sort, not the kind of people Sandor was accustomed to. People in the city were always looking for a way to screw each other over as a way to gain more power or gold. He had grown accustomed to being wary of strangers, never letting his guard down in King's Landing or while he's been on his own, it was all part of surviving in this world.

As the flock noticed him approaching, they kept their distance but were polite enough.

“They’ll warm up to you if you give ‘em a chance,” Ray reassured. “Doubt they’ve ever seen anyone quite as intimidating as you.”

Sandor didn’t give two fucks, either way, they already treated him better than most people he’s encountered over his life.

Suddenly, Sandor stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted a familiar face, he couldn’t believe she was real.

The woman from his hallucinations was sitting alone, washing clothing in a small stream. Her face scrunched in concentration as she scrubbed the linen against the washboard.

The Septon followed Sandor’s gaze and smiled, “that’s her, the one who healed you.”

Sandor nodded, swallowing thickly, he couldn’t tear his eyes off of her.

“She’s a good woman, remarkably kind... and forgiving,” something about the Septon’s expression indicated that he knew rather well just how forgiving she was.

“When we found you, I thought you were already dead and was ready to put you in the ground,” Ray recounted. “But she got down on her knees, and pressed her ear to your chest, and was able to hear the faint beating of your heart...insisted that we take you in.”

Almost as if she could sense the Septon speaking of her, her head turned in their direction. Her eyes lit up as she recognized her patient up and about.

Forgetting about the laundry, she stood up and made her way towards them, stopping just a few feet from Sandor.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, her voice soft and warm, a tone unfamiliar to Sandor as people rarely spoke to him before in such a manner.

“Fine,” Sandor grunted, looking away.

“I’m glad,” she smiled. “Never seen anyone in such bad shape before.”

“What can I say, I’m a big man and tough to kill.”

She laughed lightly, a genuine smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at him. “Do you have a name stranger?”

Sandor looked down, worried to reveal his identity, his reputation as The Hound preceded him. These were decent people who took him in, and they may not be too fond of having a murderer amongst them.

“Sandor Clegane,” he finally answered.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she tilted her head. “I’m y/n l/n.”

Y/n, the name suited her, or at least Sandor thought so.

“Well, I better finish the wash,” she muttered, looking back at the basket and clothes. She waved goodbye, her eyes meeting Sandor’s before she sauntered away.

“Still think she’s a witch?” Ray teased.

It was odd to Sandor, neither y/n nor Ray behaved like the religious sort he had encountered in King’s Landing or anywhere else for that matter. Most of the ones he met acted like they were holier than the gods themselves, looking down at the common folk for living their lives, for just existing.

The Hound quickly found his place amongst the community, Although he kept to himself, he worked harder than any other man and did whatever work was needed.

He was breathing heavily, swinging the ax over and over again. The dull thwack of the ax splitting the wood was all he could hear.

These hills were quiet and peaceful, perhaps Ray was right and there was something beautiful about this place. Sandor hadn’t given it much thought, but it seemed that in comparison the city was cruel and chaotic and smelled like piss.

Since sunrise, Sandor had been working without pause, not even stopping for lunch. Even while working he seemed to keep his distance from the others, and the only people who ever came around him were Ray and y/n.

Hearing a twig snap behind him, Sandor, out of habit, swung around with the ax in hand, prepared to attack but immediately lowered it when he saw that it was y/n standing there.

“For god sake woman, don’t you know better than to come sneaking up behind somebody?” He complained, gritting his teeth. “It’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

Most people would shrink away from Sandor, especially after such an outburst, but y/n didn’t even flinch, and he was grateful for it. The last thing he wanted was for her to stop coming around.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she laughed.

Sandor scowled, “you didn’t scare me, but we might need to get you a bell or something, so I don’t kill you by accident.”

She shook her head and smiled at him. “I brought you some supper.”  She held out the plate towards him. “Figured you were due for a break.”

He nodded, setting the ax down before taking a seat on a nearby log. Y/n joined him, sitting by his side just a few inches of space between them.

Typically, Sandor wasn’t one for company, but he made an exception for her. She was different, didn’t avoid him, and always looked him in the eye, never shying away. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, especially not from a woman.

Sandor had yet to figure out why y/n even bothered with him at all, why she brought him his meals and kept him company in the evenings, or why she even bothered to save his life.

“It’s a nice day,” she wondered out loud, admiring the sky.

Sandor shrugged, focused more on his filling his belly than the weather.

“Suppose we better enjoy while we can,” she noted, soon everything would be covered in a blanket of snow, that would last for years.

She bit her lip, thinking about how she wouldn’t mind spending a long winter with Sandor, surely he’d be able to keep her warm during the long nights.

A couple of men came rushing towards y/n and Sandor. “Lady y/n come quick,” one of them started. “Efran fell while working on top of the sept.”

“It looks real bad,” the other added.

She immediately got to her feet, lifting her skirts to keep up as Sandor followed.

When they arrived, the group of people surrounding Efran parted allowing y/n through.

The poor man was lying on the ground groaning, his leg was twisted and bone poking through. She crouched down beside him, then looked up. “We’re going to need to set the leg first. Someone hold him still please.”

Sandor stood behind the group, peering over their heads, he was curious to see just what y/n was capable of.

The man howled in agony as they held him down and y/n straightened out his leg, popping the bone back into place. “That’s the worst of it,” she said, trying to comfort Efran.

Laying her hand upon his leg, y/n closed her eyes, Sandor could’ve sworn that she was glowing, a gentle light emanating from her body. Several moments passed, all eyes were on her and everything was silent.

As she opened her eyes and lifted her hand, the gash and bone had healed, looked as good as new.

“Take him to his tent so he can rest,” y/n instructed, dusting off her skirts as she got off the ground.

“So how are you able to… heal others?” Sandor asked bluntly, now that they were alone again.

“Not sure,” she said, folding her arms. “I’ve never really been the religious type, I don’t pray or even know who or what to worship for that matter… Ray says it’s proof that there’s something, but I don’t have any answers.”

Y/n noticed the rough conditions of his hands, they were rugged and calloused from before, but she could see new blisters forming and small cuts all over his knuckles, most likely the result of all his hard work.

Reaching out she took his hands in hers. Her thumbs gently caressing over his skin. A warmth began to spread from her touch to his skin.

“Good night, Sandor,” she murmured, before letting loose of his healed hands.

…

The morning was still young when the flock had gathered to listen to the Septon's sermon.

When Ray started to speak, it wasn’t what Sandor expected. It wasn’t a lecture on sin or how the gods were judging them.

The Septon’s story hit a little too close to home for Sandor. He had always believed that the only thing he was good for was killing. For the king and for that shit Joffrey, he had committed horrible atrocities, he murdered an innocent child for gods' sakes.

Sandor’s eyes flickered down to y/n who was sitting in front of him as he stood behind her. He wondered how much she knew about his past. Would she still be just as sweet and kind to him if she ever saw what he was capable of?

Ray’s attention turned to y/n then Sandor, the older man couldn’t help but notice how Sandor looked at the healer of his flock. He recognized almost immediately how much he and the Hound had in common, and knew well what inner turmoils the man was struggling with.

“I was hired as a sword for a pretty damn easy job,” he sighed continuing his story. “Just had to kill a woman. I didn’t care why didn’t even question it, Figured it was as good as done.”

Ray ran a hand through his hair. “On my travels to the small village she resided in, I was ambushed by some bandits, they robbed me blind and left me for dead out on that road. I thought this had to be it, they took my money, my horse, cut me open… and then things went dark until I woke up in a small hut.”

“The villagers had brought me to their healer, a young orphaned girl... when she introduced herself that’s when I realized that this girl was the one I was sent to kill.”

“You’d think I would’ve changed my mind right then, and leave her be,” the Septon shook his head a distant look in his eye. “But I had just lost everything, I needed that gold, or at least that’s the excuse I made.”

“I bided my time, gained the trust of the village before deciding to act,” Ray looked down at his clasped hands. “On that fateful night, I took a knife from the kitchen, and was fully prepared to slit her throat as she slept… but as I held it, pressing the sharp edge against her skin, it hit me about how I was taking something good from the world, and how goodness was so rare to find. Who knows how much goodness I had already taken from the world, what right did I have to take more?”

Y/n smiled at the Septon, encouraging him to finish their story.

“For the first time in my life, I wanted to do the same to bring some goodness into the world, no more death, no more senseless violence… that wasn’t going to be my life anymore,” Ray wandered over to y/n, patting her shoulder. “Since then, I’ve changed my ways, and with the time I’ve got left, I plan to use it for good.”

Just as the Septon's lesson started to sink in for Sandor, three men on horses approached.

Ray tried to appease them, but still, their presence made Sandor feel uneasy.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that these men were up to no good. Stumbling upon this community was like finding an unguarded vault, supplies, food, women, all for the taking.

Y/n joined Ray, a kind smile on her face as she tried to reason with them as well.

It didn’t escape Sandor’s attention how the man in the yellow coat was eyeing y/n, the stranger's intentions were anything but good.

Sandor’s fists clenched as they made eye contact, he should grab an ax or something and take care of them now.

But Ray seemed to urge against it.

“Do you really think they’ll come back?” Y/n asked once the three strangers had left.

Sandor’s shoulders slumped, “Aye, to them this is easy pickings… unarmed common folk with plenty of supplies and food.”

Y/n wrung her hands nervously. “I see,” she mumbled, looking back at the tents, these were her friends, her family, this was meant to be a safe haven. For the last decade or so, she and Ray had worked hard towards their goal, they were so close to it now.

Sighing, Sandor laid a hand over both of hers, “I’ll do what I can… just stay with me.”

She nodded, taking in a deep breath, “you’re a good man, Sandor.”

He shook his head, “I’m no such thing.”

“It’s a shame you don’t see it,” she said softly, now cradling his large hand in both of hers. “When I spotted you on that hill I saw so much potential, even covered in all that blood and dirt… the world needs you Sandor Clegane.”

For the rest of the day, y/n stayed by Sandor’s side, watching him work and helping when she could.

Deep down Sandor hoped his instincts were wrong, that those men would simply move on but when a shrill scream shattered the peaceful silence, he already knew it was too late.

Rage, as Sandor passed body after body, all he felt was rage. This community hadn’t done anything to deserve being slaughtered like this. They were innocent people, just trying to live their lives and do some good for the world. The monsters hadn’t spared anyone, not even the children.

This once-peaceful place, the place he was considering to call home, had now been desecrated by a massacre, completely destroyed.

‘Nowhere is safe.’ This tragedy solidified these words in his heart.

Sandor came to halt when the Septon came into view, feet dangling in the air as his body swung from the skeleton of the unfinished sept.

Y/n stumbled beside him, her sight blurred by tears, but it was her heart-wrenching cry when she saw the Septon that pulled Sandor from his stupor.

She fell to her knees, face twisted in anguish as she wailed, she had never seen such horrors in her life.

Grabbing her by the arm, Sandor yanked her to him, blocking her view of all the horrors that surrounded them, and wrapped his arms securely around her.

She buried her face against his chest as he held her close. Her fingers digging into his shoulders, as she clutched him as tightly, all the strength in her legs had given out.

As he comforted her, her pain only fueled his anger further, Sandor spotted an ax nearby, those fuckers were going to pay. He was going to hack them all to pieces.

He pulled away from her, his hands cupping her face, “we’re going after them, all of them.”

Stray tears fell from Y/n’s eyes and slid over Sandor’s hands. “Promise?” She whispered.

...

[vennilavee]

the soul of a flame - ch 2

ignite

the soul of a flame masterlist

pairing: levi x reader of color

summary: levi sees you a few more times at the silver sapphire, where you’re in your element.

warnings: alcohol, cursing

word count: ~4000

a/n: mostly a filler chapter to establish characters and the setting. also i might be adding several chapters in between, after further outlining LOL. enjoy! plz reblog and leave a comment if you liked this 

***

You were definitely not expecting the bar to be this busy tonight. Neither you nor Misaki had known that the Survey Corps were about to go on a big expedition, which explained why anyone with a green cape who was old enough to drink was in your bar.

The expedition was in a few days, far enough in the future where it didn’t feel like it was looming just yet. The grim truth is that you’d see fewer and fewer of those green capes every time they’d come back. You wonder what exactly happens on those expeditions, but it can’t be anything good. You have a soft spot for them- they’ve treated you kindly for the most part. 

It’s those damn MP’s that grate on your last nerve. The number of times that some of them, especially the older ones, have barged into your bar. Demanding free alcohol as some kind of payment for “protecting” the citizens of Wall Rose.

The number of times you’ve forced them out. It’s one too many.

You’re working up a sweat as you try to keep up with everyone at the bar. There’s dirt on your navy blue blouse and it’s bothering you every time you glance down but you haven’t had a chance to rub it away. You’re also certain that there is dirt on your face as well but you pay no mind to it. There’s no time, after all. Not when there’s dozens of soldiers who are desperate for a drink and a good time.

You fleetingly wonder if you’ll see any familiar faces. You’ve met some members of Squad Mike, Squad Levi and Squad Hange at least once. You’re the most acquainted with Squad Levi. You’ve even met some members of the Garrison regiment, including Hannes and Rico Brzenska, who reminds you somewhat of someone you once knew a long time ago.

Your thoughts flutter to Levi. You’ve seen him two or three times so far, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy his company. As rare as it was that he came by. He’s so easy to tease, and sometimes he gives it right back to you. That makes you smile when it happens.

Drinks are flowing, your arms beginning to get tired from the tumblers of ale and mixed drinks you’ve been refilling over the last hour. It’s bustling and noisy, just how you like it. Misaki’s in the same boat as you, carrying two trays filled with snacks and drinks.

Squad Levi is at their usual corner of the bar, but Levi isn’t with them. You wonder if he’ll show up later, but your thoughts are pulled away from the grumpy Captain when Squad Mike saunters into your bar with Mike himself leading the charge. The tall man sticks out from the rest as he generously sniffs around the bar. You’ve heard from Oluo that the man has a few interesting habits.

They look incredibly happy for a team about to embark on a potentially fatal mission. You suppose this is the territory that comes with being in the Survey Corps.

And where is their Commander? Erwin Smith. It’s been years, over a decade since you had last seen his piercing, blue eyes. You doubt he remembers you. It’s a memory even you have to reach into the depths of your mind for. 

But still. If anyone should have a drink tonight, it’s him.

You manage to sneak in a shot or two to steel your own nerves when you see Erwin walk in with Levi right next to him. You meet Levi’s eyes and wave at him.

“Commander Erwin,” You nod, “Honored to meet you, sir.”

He’s as intimidating and commanding of respect now as he was back then. You watch his face for a flash of recognition but there is none. Seemingly.

You offer both him and Levi a drink and excuse yourself to help Misaki out with the new orders that have come through. 

You’ve slowly come to realize that the Survey Corps really knows how to drink. When you deliver a drink to Erwin and his table members, you wryly tell him that the Survey Corps budget must be bursting at the seams. If they’ve got enough money to splurge on alcohol like this.

“We only splurge like this once in a while. When we know that many of us won’t be returning,” He replies and you nearly shrivel up from his icy gaze.

You can’t help but feel like you’ve been scolded like a schoolchild. You leave them to their devices, deciding to work on the growing pile of dirty dishes in the back. The flow of orders has slowed down and you’re hoping you can keep up with the cleaning.

“Loosen up, Erwin,” Levi says easily, after a sip of his whiskey, “Maybe that stick up your ass will loosen up, too.”

Erwin rolls his eyes at his Captain and takes a drink of his earthwater. It had been the recommendation of Hange, Moblit and even Levi himself.

He’s pleasantly surprised. 

Levi leans back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. He watches you and Misaki flit around quickly between tables, almost like a dance. You both work together synchronously to fulfill orders and even have the time for small talk with the patrons of the bar. His gaze is unwavering, maybe even harsh. He sees a few specks of dust on your cheeks and your forehead. 

It bothers him more than it should. 

The next time you circle back to their table, he can’t help himself-

“Oi. You’ve got some dirt on your face,” Levi points out, looking up at you from his seat.

Your cheeks heat up and you haphazardly rub your face. In an attempt to clean your face, you end up smudging the dirt around even more and Levi shakes his head. At this angle, Levi can see a stain at the collar of your navy shirt.

How annoying. 

You walk away from them after taking their orders and Levi watches you head to the back supply room. Levi waits a few beats before following you inside.

You nearly let out a screech when you come face to face with him. He moves so quietly and he raises an eyebrow at your jumpiness. 

“You made the dirt worse,” Levi says plainly, pointing to your cheeks.

The bar is filled with people, noise bouncing and echoing off of the walls. You can hear the bustle even in the supply closet. Your cheeks are hot again, your throat dry and you grip the box in your hands tightly. The chatter of conversation is somehow drowned out by the intensity of Levi’s silver eyes. 

“So you followed me in here?” You joke nervously.

“It’s bothering me,” Levi murmurs and steps closer to you. 

He’s only a breath away from you, and the quip that was on the tip of your tongue dies on your lips. Your dark eyes are wide, and god, has it always been this hot in here?

“You mind?” Levi asks quietly, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket. 

He knows how this looks. But you shake your head immediately, words seemingly stolen from your throat. Levi presses his clean handkerchief to your cheek, rubbing gently against your heated skin. And then your forehead, and above your eyebrow. He sees your scars once more, just above your eyebrow and his eyes flicker to the one below your clavicle.

Levi pulls his hand away and you wonder if he can hear the sound of blood rushing to your ears. The lamp behind Levi somehow both illuminates and casts shadows on his striking features, his eyes melting silver into yours.

He tucks the handkerchief in his pocket and notices your eyes flicker to his lips. Then back to his eyes. 

But he takes a step back and has a hand on the doorknob.

“Your collar is stained, too,” Levi mutters.

With that, as if he hadn’t almost touched your face with his bare hands, he exits the supply closet and heads back to his table. Levi downs his drink quickly and tells everyone at his table that he’ll be leaving. And that they should do the same.

It takes you a few minutes to regain your composure.

***

Levi is alone tonight. It’s the first time he’s heading to the Silver Sapphire without his squad. It’s eerie, he decides, kicking a stray rock out of his path. It’s quiet, and yet he can hear the muffled sounds of conversation in the night. A light breeze dances through his hair and he looks up, seeing that the moon is nowhere in sight.

He stands outside of your bar and leans on his cane, hesitating for a moment but ultimately making the decision to pull the door open and go inside. There are a few people scattered across the bar, some in quiet conversation with each other and others sitting in silence. He recognizes a few faces from the arrival parade from earlier this morning. Perhaps they are drinking their sorrows away. 

Perhaps he should, too.

Levi doesn’t see you at first glance. He sees a tall woman behind the bar, with long, dark hair, sharp features and piercing, green eyes. She makes her way over to him with a notepad and a pen in hand.

“I’m Misaki. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

“Just an earthwater.”

And she’s gone as quickly as she came.

Levi allows his eyes to wander, subtly searching for where you might be. He sees you emerge from the backdoor, your arms filled with new glasses and tumblers. You carry them with ease, without a worry of shattering even a single one.

He leans back in his seat, peeling his green Survey Corps trench coat off. He folds it and places it on his lap as he murmurs a soft thanks to Misaki when she brings him a full glass of earthwater.

It’s as bitter and sweet as he remembers it, and he downs the glass in less than a minute. Levi passes a glance at the other end of the bar, the end that he knew Oluo and Petra liked to sit at. They said it gave them the best view of the main street and that it was quieter on this side of the bar, where they could hear each other speak.

Well. They were dead now. The thought makes Levi want another drink. How annoying.

As if reading his mind Misaki comes by once more, asking him if he’d like another drink. He nods, and Misaki is sure to add a little more alcohol in his earthwater. He looks like he needs it.

A flash of Petra’s bloody face lights up in his mind. Then, a flash of her father telling him that she’d chosen to dedicate her life to him. 

Another long gulp.

Then, a flash of Eld’s fiancée. Pleading, needing to know where Eld was. And then her bright eyes flooded with tears, asking if he had died valiantly.

And the truth was, even if Levi himself wasn’t present… He is certain that he did.

Another even longer gulp. The alcohol burns in the best way. He isn’t one to do this, to lament over fallen soldiers much less, lament over fallen soldiers over alcohol.

But it feels different this time. It’s his team.

Levi doesn’t realize how tightly he’s gripping the glass in his hands, and he doesn’t flinch as he finishes off the rest of it.

***

Your curiosity is piqued when you see Captain Levi sitting alone at the bar of the bar, clutching his drink like his life depends on it. You see a cane poking out from the bottom of the table. Is he injured? You wonder where his team and his friends are. Then you recall that there was an expedition recently.

You swallow dryly. Had his team perished outside the walls? An unwelcome pit of dread buries itself in your belly. You cast a wary look at Levi, wondering if he’s planning on drinking himself to oblivion like so many of his fellow soldiers do after a loss.

Though, he doesn’t seem the type to do so.

You wonder if you’ll ever see Petra or Oluo ever again, though you feel as though you have the answer already. A familiar sort of melancholy settles in your bones, one that you’re all too familiar with. One that you’re certain Levi is familiar with, as well. Busying yourself with restocking and attending to other customers, you can’t help but glance at him every so often. He’s staring into nothingness, his gaze shifting from the floor, to the other side of the bar, to his glass, and finally you.

You hadn’t been expecting that, but you hold his steely, grey gaze. It’s empty and stern, making you want to look away. But you don’t. You hold your ground and watch as he brings his glass to his lips and takes a hearty sip.

You wonder if he’s thinking of that moment in the supply closet. And yet, it seems so trivial now. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think of that moment often.

You’re pulled away from his enthralling gaze by Misaki, asking you to remind her where the new washcloths you had ordered were. You tease her before telling her that they’re in the supply closet, next to the plates.

You’re unable to stop yourself from glancing over at Captain Levi once more.

***

It’s getting late, and Levi is the last one in your bar. You don’t want to usher him out. It’s clear that he’d come here as a last reprieve. Trying to catch a memory of his team from… before.

You’ve already told Misaki that she can go home. She casts a look at Levi but nods, gathering her things and leaving.

You pour a steaming cup of tea for yourself, and for Levi. Probably not a great idea, considering the time it is. But you do so anyway, and sit across from Levi at his table.

He doesn’t react, only casting you a look of acknowledgement. But he continues to gaze at you, in his piercing way. Your hair is pulled away from your face, he notes. Your gaze is just as piercing as his and he finds himself unable to pull away from your dark eyes. The shadows illuminate the highest points of your cheeks, especially when your lips pull apart and you offer him a smile.

“You can kick me out. Don’t have to give me special treatment just because I’m Captain Levi,” Levi drawls.

“You’re not my Captain,” You raise an eyebrow, “Besides, I’m not giving you special treatment because you’re Captain Levi. I’m giving you special treatment because I think you need it.”

“Here,” You slide his cup of tea to him, “It’s on the house.”

“You give everyone drinks on the house this often, or is it just me?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You grin and Levi catches a flash of your pearly, white teeth. 

He scoffs.

“Doesn’t seem like a lucrative business practice,” Levi mutters.

“Well, The Silver Sapphire’s still standing, isn’t it?” You ask dryly, “It’s not bad for business when those fuckin’ MPs and Garrison soldiers tell their friends that the pretty girl with the bar gives out free drinks once in a while.”

“Those fuckin’ MPs,” Levi rolls his eyes, “Shit for brains.”

To his surprise, you laugh, “Yeah. We’ve got a history. Me and the MPs ”

Levi looks at you with the same bored look and says nothing. But he wonders what that means.

“You usually don’t come here alone. In fact, none of you do. You come as friends. It’s why I like the Survey Corps so much more than them,” You say, crossing your arms across your chest. Levi catches a glint of the gold necklace around your neck and narrows his eyes. It has a gold pendant, with a pale green stone embedded in it.

There’s no way that a bar owner could have a jewel that intricate and rare. There’s a story there, he’s sure of it. You clutch the pendant as if it’s a reflex, or a nervous habit.

“My team’s dead. Died during the last expedition,” Levi says bluntly after a few minutes, not missing the way your eyes fill with sorrow and how your smile falls.

“I’m sorry, Levi. I’d heard it was a tough one,” You say softly, “Cheers to them. May their souls rest in peace.”

You raise your glass and he does as well, the clink of the cups echoing in the silent bar.

“They were good. Had good hearts,” You murmur, “I didn’t know them very long but I knew that much.”

“Yes, they were. They died with no regrets. As good people. Good soldiers.”

“And you? Do you have any regrets, Captain Levi?” You ask boldly, watching him through your eyelashes as you take another sip. The tea warms you from the inside out, and you hope Levi is enjoying it as well. But you can’t tell, his face as impassive as ever. 

“Only fools have regrets,” Levi says easily, “Nobody is sure of anything in life. We shouldn’t waste our limited time on thoughts of what could have been done.”

And yet, his thoughts flutter to Isabel and Farlan, before reeling himself back into your thoughtful eyes.

“I suppose,” You murmur, “People can waste their lives dwelling over the things they regret doing. Or not doing. But I guess… there’s no wrong or right choice. We have to feel what we need to feel in order to move on.”

You have a faraway look in your eyes, and it’s mirrored in Levi’s own eyes. You tug the sleeves of your loose shirt past your knuckles, seemingly sinking into your memories. Levi thinks that this has become a habit. Of seeing you up close like this. There is a deep scar along the hollow of your shoulder to your clavicle, and he sees the shallow one on your forehead. The one he had noticed the first time he had come to your bar.

Despite the gold on your neck, the rings on your fingers, the silk of your clothing… You weren’t born to it. You probably crawled your way through, as evidenced by the scars. He idly wonders if there are more.

You rub the back of your neck before downing the rest of your tea.

“Tea’s not half bad,” Levi says, and you know that’s the most you’ll get out of him. You also know it’s the end of your night with him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You scoff.

Levi stands from his seat, shaking his trench coat of any dirt before fastening it over his shoulders. Before he can fix his collar, you step forward and fix it for him. Your fingers are light over the nape of his neck, eyes never leaving his. Dark brown mixes with gunmetal grey, and for a moment you’re transfixed by the way the moonlight strikes his eyes. Making them look like a molten silver.

“I’ll see you soon, Captain,” You say softly as you walk him to the front door.

“Thought you said I wasn’t your Captain,” Levi drawls, amusement outlined in the upturn of his lips.

You laugh, “I’ll see you soon, Levi.”

***

The next time Levi comes by, a few weeks has gone by. In that time, Stohess District had become a titan battlefield resulting in many civilian casualties. You’re wise enough, and selfish enough, to acknowledge that that could have been Trost. Again.

You’re glad that your entire livelihood is on the edge of Trost District, bordering the next town. It had been mainly avoided during the Battle for Trost, save for minor property damages. But still. It’s never a good sign when there are these many civilian casualties.

You wonder what the hell is going on with the Survey Corps, the Garrison and the MPs. Are you all just fodder for their grand plans?

What a life worth living, in these three walls.

It’s one of the few times that Levi comes by when the sun is still in the sky. He seems to only visit at night. Probably because that’s when it’s easiest for him to leave the Survey Corps headquarters. That’s probably when he has the most free time.

It’s a breathtaking sight, seeing the sunlight against his dark hair. You wonder if he even knows that there’s a halo of light on top of his silky hair.

You suppress a shudder. He’s ethereal, everyone in your bar turns to look at him in awe and curiosity. His white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons of his shirt are open. You swallow, trying to lubricate your dry throat. And yet he’s walking towards you as if he was created on the same plane of existence as you. Levi’s face is stoic, betraying no emotion as he leans an elbow against the bar. 

“Haven’t seen you this early in the day before. Almost didn’t recognize you,” You joke and he rolls his grey eyes. When they catch in the dimming sunlight, they almost look blue.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“No need to be mean,” You scoff, “Want a drink? You look like you could use it.”

Levi doesn’t reply, only offering you a grimace.

“I’m here because Erwin’s asked a favor of you,” Levi says in his usual bored drawl, “He wants you to be our supplier for alcohol. For any and all pre-expedition send offs.”

Despite Erwin sending his soldiers to their deaths as often as he did, Levi considers it a small reprieve that they are happy for at least a night before.

“Tell your Commander that nothing I do is for free or out of the kindness of my delicate heart,” You say, leaning against the bar. You’re close enough to him that you can see amusement in his eyes even as he narrows them at you.

“Delicate heart?” Levi scoffs, “Yeah, right.”

“Tell your Commander to stop by again, huh? I’m sure he could use a drink. Especially after dealing with you all the time,” You tease. You can’t help but want to prod him, to see if he remembered you from all those years ago. You highly doubted it. 

Something flickers across his face and you’re almost worried for a second that you’ve offended him. But then you see the small upturn of his lips and your heart nearly bursts in your chest.

“I could say the same. About him and Four Eyes,” Levi rolls his eyes, “And about you.”

“Me? I am a delight to be around,” You say easily and wink at him.

“Is this how you are with all your bar patrons?”

“And how am I, Levi?”

“Insufferable,” Levi says without batting an eyelash and you push his drink towards him.

“Only with you, honey,” You wink at him again and step away from the bar to tend to your other patrons, “Only with you.”

You cast a look at him from over his shoulder, only to find him already looking at you with sharp eyes. 

The evening crowd begins to filter into the bar and you’re unable to stray from your bar patrons. Levi wonders how that smile of yours, as genuine as it is, can remain painted on your face for as long as it has. Your eyes shine with mirth, and you greet your patrons as if they are all long lost friends of yours.

Levi finishes the remainder of his drink before fastening his coat and taking his cane. He winces as he stands to his feet, his leg not quite healed yet. He leaves without saying goodbye, and asks himself when he allowed you and your bright smiles to burrow in his mind. Your flirty words and teasing are annoying to say the least. And yet...

Truth be told, he didn’t really fight this feeling from twining itself inside of him to begin with. And that’s not something he’ll lie to himself about.

[the-ever-humming-girl]

Atlantis: Little Changes

Kida watched as Khet and Milo spoke briefly, then Milo walked down the steps and crossed the garden to where she sat.

    He lowered himself to the grass near her and frowned in concern. “Have you slept at all?”

    She knew the exhaustion must have shown in her face and she shook her head. “No, and I could not sleep if I tried. My mind refuses to be calmed.”

    Milo looked apologetic. “I’m sorry to bother you but there are a few things that I need to talk to you about. “

    Kida nodded. “Of course.”

    He hesitated, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a crystal.

    She went still, recognizing it immediately.

    “That is my father’s.” She wasn’t ready to speak of him in the past tense.

    Milo nodded. “I meant to give it to you yesterday but with everything that happened I forgot.”

    She frowned at him. “How did you come by this?”

    Again, he hesitated. “He gave it to me, before he died, when he asked me to save Atlantis, to save you.”

    Kida’s heart ached at his words, and she put down her cup, taking the crystal from where it lay in his palm. She turned it over in her hands for a few moments, then took it by its cord and gently placed it around Milo’s neck.

    He looked surprised. “You don’t want to keep it?” He asked.

    She shook her head. “My father gave this to you, Milo. You must keep it.” When he looked ready to protest, she explained. “He was distrustful of those from outside Atlantis, yet he gifted this to you.” She reached out and placed her hand on Milo’s chest, covering the crystal. “He sensed something in you, Milo. He put his faith in you and that faith was rewarded.”

    Milo’s face flushed in embarrassment. “I just did what was right.” He said modestly.

    Kida took his hand in hers. “You did well, Milo. And I cannot thank you or your companions enough.”

    Milo still looked embarrassed but gave her a smile. “Thank you. I’ll take good care of it.”

    She squeezed his hand once more. “What else did you want to discuss?” She asked. Milo having come to see her was providing a welcome distraction from her grief.

    “Oh,” Milo’s face fell. “Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The crew are talking of leaving. I know it’s sudden, but they’ve all been down here for a while now and are eager to get back to the surface, to their lives and families.”

    Kida’s own face fell then, her determination faltering. Would it be right of her to ask him to stay? Would it be fair? He had a life on the surface, one he had no doubt planned on returning to.

    She then wondered what would happen once these people returned to their world. Would they tell others of their discovery? Would more outer worlders like Rourke come? She suddenly felt the weight of the safety of Atlantis settling on her shoulders.

    Milo spoke again. And it was as if he’d read her thoughts. “I’ve been talking to the crew and given how things have turned out we’ve all decided to keep the discovery of Atlantis a secret. You won’t have anything to fear from us.”

    She took his hand again. “Thank you, Milo. This is a great sacrifice, I know.” While exploring the city the day before, Milo had spoken of his grandfather and of wanting to prove the existence of the Atlantis to honor his memory.

     “It’s the right thing to do.” He said simply. He looked as though he wanted to say more but stopped himself and looked away.

    “What is wrong?” She asked.

    He took a breath and began. “I wanted to ask….” He trailed off. “Well, it might seem strange and given what’s happened I’d understand if you said no.”

    “Yes?” She encouraged. Hope was swelling in her. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to say.

    “I wanted to ask if I could stay in Atlantis.” He finished.

     Kida let out a breath, her eyes filling with tears of relief. It eased her worries to know Milo would be around to help her in deciphering the mysteries of Atlantis. “Yes,” she said. “I would be honored if you would stay.”

    Of course, there was another reason she’d wanted him in Atlantis. She could feel a connection between them, though they had just met. The beginning of something much deeper.

    Milo misinterpreted her tears and his brown eyes widened in alarm. “I’m so sorry, Kida. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

    She shook her head, reaching for him. “You have not upset me, Milo. I have been worrying about the future and you have eased my mind.”

    He smiled and moved to sit close, wrapping an arm around her. “I’m glad I can help.”

    She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling at peace for the first time that day. And though the ache of losing her father remained, she knew it would lessen as time passed.

     “Do you not have a life, a family to return to?” Kida wanted to be sure he wouldn’t regret his decision to remain in Atlantis.

    Milo shook his head. “No, my life pretty much revolved around my job, and I quit before I left. And my parents and grandpa were the only family I had and they’re all dead.” He paused. “There is my cat, Fluffy, though she’s well cared for at Mr. Whitmore’s at the moment.”

    When Kida looked puzzled, he explained. “My pet. Little, furry, fond of knocking things off tables and climbing curtains.”

    His description brought a faint smile to her face. “We are alike, you and me, though I do not have a Fluffy. Perhaps our similarities are what helped us to find each other.”

    He rested his chin on the top of her head. “It’s odd, thinking of everything that had to happen to bring us together. Truth really is stranger than fiction.”

    Kida sat up and turned to look at him. “You feel it too, then, the connection between us?”

    He nodded. “I do, and I’ve never had it this strong or this quickly.”

    Kida leaned against him once more and laced their fingers together the way she had the day before. “Neither have I.”

    They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they looked out over the new city spread out on the islands and plateaus below them. And when Milo looked down at Kida a few minutes later he saw that she was fast asleep against him. He smiled, happy to see she was finally getting some rest.

    It wouldn’t be easy for Kida in the coming days and months, he knew, but she was strong, and she had the love and support of her people. And he would be there for her as much as he could.

   Slowly but surely things would get better.

[mckinlily]

In another reality, the paladins are made up of junior officers instead of cadets. In this reality, Altea is destroyed, but the Altean people are not. Princess Allura is the leader of an active resistance of the expanding (not already expanded) Galra Empire when she enlists the paladins. In this reality, Katie Holt has a younger brother; Lance Sanchez-McClain is an only child. There is no “leader” of Voltron, only a Black Paladin known as Keith, gruff and unpersonable, a skilled warrior who commands in the sense of split second calls in battle and is propped by his team in anything else.

In this reality, Takashi Shirogane (who was--is--was the Blue Paladin) is dead.

There never was any “Shiro,” only the team’s Takashi who was the heart of Voltron, who pulled them all together with warmth and boundless affection, who had no reason--neither age nor experience--to appear separate from the other Paladins.

Who was the first to understand the gravity of the evil they were fighting. Who gave his life to save refugees before the others could catch his vision. 

In this reality, that was ten years ago. In the time intervening, Princess Allura took up the mantle of the Blue Paladin that Takashi left behind and with that sealed her dedication to Voltron before the Altean resistance. The remaining Paladins had the severity of the war seared into their skin through the loss of one of their own. In the pain and guilt left behind, they learned to focus. To fight. To take seriously this cause that they had originally treated first as an adventure and to reign unending fury on Zarkon and the Galra Empire.

In this reality, Voltron is neither a defender nor a paragon. What it is is powerful. The Paladins are not necessarily cruel, but they are not people to cross. Voltron operates with its own morals, under its own agenda, and while that mostly seems to be in the cause of good--certainly Zarkon beaten to a standstill can only be a good thing--but woe betide anyone who happens to run afoul Allura, Lance, Katie, Hunk, and Keith. They say the Paladins of Voltron are unstoppable.

And yet, the paladins themselves still feel the loss of Takashi, their first Blue Paladin. They never say it out loud, but Lance, Katie, and Hunk can still feel the hole where Takashi used to be every time they form Voltron. Allura has never felt her connection with Blue without the Lion’s tinge of grief.

And part of Keith died with Takashi. There’s no other way to put it. The other paladins hold him up, stick with him and work with him. But there’s a wall there that both he and they know will never be crossed again. Not now that Takashi is dead. 

But time goes on and so does life. They beat the Galra Empire back to its original boarders. They free planets and fight warlords and pirates. They learn to adjust, like an amputee missing a limb, and though the loss and guilt never truly go away, they learn to live with it. Even grow beyond it.

Until.

Until they encounter a stranger, young and disoriented, who claims to be the Black Paladin. Who knows them but in a different form, as teenaged the paladins they never were. Who is so young, but who has a massive scar they’ve never seen, white bangs they don’t recognize, and fights not like a trained solider but like someone who know their next strike could be their last. Whose eyes have seen horrors that even they, who have waged war for a decade, don’t know.

He says he’s Shiro. 

He’s the same age Takashi was when he died. 

And. He. Won’t. Stop. He’s too young (too precious, too fragile) to still be fighting, but he says his team is even younger. He’s desperate to get back to them. His reality is worse off than theirs ever was, and he talks as if the entire universe rests on his shoulders. And yet also as if he’s expendable, a reasonable price to trade for others’ lives. He’s Takashi with a fire, a steel, and a weight their Takashi had never known. 

(Or perhaps after all this time, they were still missing what Takashi had been trying to tell them. Shiro isn’t shy about what he thinks of leaving prisoners behind--which would be so much easier to deal with if his way of handling that weren’t going off on his own to stage a prison break, never mind it’s actually successful. Does he not know that’s exactly what killed Takashi? Doesn’t he know the danger?

And yet Shiro’s only response is, “I won’t let innocent people suffer,” with a glare that won’t let them go.)

Shiro is not their Takashi: he’s fierce and independent, traumatized and self-sacrificing to a terrifying degree. And he has exactly all the heart and moral conviction that they lost with Takashi. He’s a second chance, a desperate,  hurting version of the teammate that they failed. One who needs their help more than Takashi ever did but who won’t slow down long enough to receive it. 

The Paladins agree: they have to get Shiro back to his team. His reality needs him even more than they ever needed Takashi, even if Shiro can’t seem to grasp that.

(And it’s that terrifying because what if Takashi were like Shiro? What if Takashi died believing he could give his life without them feeling the shockwaves of it for the rest of their lives? What if he didn’t know?)

This time, the paladins won’t fail Shiro like they did Takashi. They have to find a way to heal him. To convince him how very, very vital he is to his team and his universe. That to lose him will never be a net win and his fears that he is unworthy and replaceable are so unfounded as to be ridiculous. 

They don’t know how much time they have. After losing Takashi, they can only imagine what Shiro’s team is going through after having lost him; they can’t justify keeping him in their reality any longer than necessary. 

It wouldn’t be fair, anyway. As much as it shouldn’t be Shiro with such a heavy burden, he deserves the choice. And he has clearly chosen to fight.

So they won’t stop him. But they will do everything they can to save him while he with them. They will protect and, yes, coddle him, try to remind him that he is still young and deserving of support. And they will do their best to show him the hole Takashi left in each of them. “Look what Takashi did,” they say. “Don’t do this to your team.”

“Please, Shiro.”

“Don’t do this to them.”

There isn’t a way to get Takashi back. And if they can use their lessons learned to save Shiro and his team...

Well, that still doesn’t make losing Takashi worth it. But they might finally be becoming the team Takashi would have been proud of. 

[kyber-kisses]

Southern Nights

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing, angst, sad!boi dean hours, very slight canon divergence.

Summary: When the British men of letters start killing American hunters, Dean panics for the readers safety.

A/n: had this idea tumbling around in my head for awhile and finally decided to write it. Hope y’all enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! (I also based this off of Flower Power by Greta Van Fleet so go and give it a listen!)

Things had not being going smoothly to say the least. Not smoothly at all.

Taking a deep breath Dean rested his body weight against the drivers side door of Baby, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he waited for Sam to finish up his phone calls. Thirty minutes ago they had walked out of the morgue from seeing Eileen's body and now apparently their mother was missing.

“Are you done yet?” Dean sighed, holding up his wrist to check his watch impatiently. The only answer he got from Sam was a finger being held up, telling him to give him another minute.

Another groan and Dean was letting his head fall back against the roof of the car. A minute later he heard Sam saying his goodbyes followed by a click and he was lifting his head up again.

“Well?”

“So, yeah- I’ve finished calling around about all the hunters who’ve died in the past few weeks. And um-“

“And um what?”

“They’ve all had years of experience. If this really is the British men of letters, I think their trying to wipe out American hunters.” Sam explained, watching Deans face for a reaction. The older Winchester pinched the bridge of his nose,eyes squeezed shut, no doubt frustrated with the whole situation.

“Oh well that’s just fan-freakin-tastic.”

Another few seconds past and then Deans eyes snapped back open, Jade irises now wide as he pushed himself away from the car.

“Shit, Y/N.”

Immediately understanding where Deans mind was going, Sam was already rounding the side of the vehicle to get to the passenger door. “When was the last time you talked to her?”

“I don’t know, four weeks ago- maybe five?” Dean spoke quickly, yanking open his own door and quickly sliding in, keys already in the ignition. “Try calling her. We need to make sure she’s alright.”

Tapping furiously at his screen, Sam nodded as he pressed the device to his ear. “Already on it.”

Dean was back on the road and driving before he even had a destination, his eyes darting between the asphalt and Sam as he waited for an answer.

“Anything?”

Shaking his head, Sam pulled the phone a away from his ear, flinching when Dean let out a string of curses. “Damn it, here-“ taking a hand off the wheel he fished his own phone out, tossing it across the seat towards his brother. “Try mine.”

The hunter waited in agonizing silence for another minute or so before Sam shook his head once more. “Nothing again.”

It took everything in Dean not to hit his head against the steering wheel in frustration in that moment. He needed to know that you were safe. That you were still alive and well. “Fuck- okay. Um, try calling Jody. She might know where she is.”

You and Dean were complicated to say the least. The two of you had crossed paths and become friends a lifetime ago and nothing had ever been the same since. It was easy to see by anyone that You and Dean had feelings for each other, but even after years of friendship neither of you had ever truly acted on it. Sure there were the knowing glances and smiles, and the occasional instance where the two of you found your fingers tangled together, but that was it. No more. No less. Probably because internally you both knew that this life wasn’t made for romance.

But that didn’t stop Dean from loving you. Not at all.

Dean focused his eyes back on the paint strips in the center of the road, trying to ease himself. It wasn't unusual for you to go radio silent for weeks on end. You had a busy schedule, never quite standing still enough to catch a breath before rushing off on another case, but with everything happening, Dean was worried.

Dean considered you to be a wild, energetic type. You were the type that loved diving head first into anything you found interesting. Sometimes you decided to learn a new language just for the hell of it or pick up a random hobby like archery. There was something about moving that you had always loved. You were drawn towards instability the way magma's drawn through cracks in the earth. Even when you were younger, you had had a quality that sucked people in, made people flock to you as if you were some emissary from the land of glamour. (Dean knew that truth though, you like most hunters came from a shrinky dink town in the middle of nowhere USA. . . The farthest thing from glamour.) Dean remembered when they had first found the bunker and offered you to stay with them. You had hissed a little through your teeth, before politely declining. Sure, you stopped in every once in awhile and stayed a week or two but never longer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched as Sam talked softly to Jody on the phone, his brother letting out light hums and nods as he jotted some stuff down on the back of an old fast food napkin. A moment later he was thanking the sheriff and hanging up.

“She got anything?”

“Kind of. She says she hasn’t heard from her in a few weeks either, but last time she checked Y/N was hunkered down in some place outside of Fairhope, Alabama. She had been working a rugaru case but that was the last she heard of her.” Sam explained with a light shrug.

“Okay, alright.” Dean nodded, glancing back over at his brother. “What do you have written down?”

“An address. Jody said if we go looking for her to start here. She thinks this is where she was staying.”

Leaning slightly over, he read the messy scribbles on the napkin before nodding and looking at the clock. “Alright, if I gun I think I can get us there by evening tomorrow.”

His brother gave him a solid nod before plugging the coordinates into his phones GPS, and giving him the first set of directions. The only thoughts running the older Winchesters head being please be alive. You need to be alive. Because if the British men of letters found you and did something to you, he would never forgive himself.

*. *. *. *. *. *. *.

Dean managed to hit it spot on because a day and a half later he and Sam were quickly lurching to a stop at the end of an old dirt driveway as dusk began to settle. The sky turning to a deep shade of blue as the sun went down, taking the dusty pinks and oranges of the sunset with it. The first fireflies could be seen through the trees, and Just beyond the house, the grass sloped down to the calm waters of the Mobile bay.

The tires crunched loudly against the gravel before Dean slammed the breaks and threw the impala into park, practically vaulting out of the vehicle at the sight of your car.

“Y/N!”

For the past several hours fear had begun its agonizing and chilling climb up Deans spine and now that he was finally at the end of the GPS route he was terrified of what he might find.

No answer.

Dean was frantic as he and Sam bolted up the steps of the massive front porch, throwing open the old screen door probably with enough force that it should have been pulled from its hinges. “Y/N, Dammit!”

luckily the open layout of the house was easy to navigate and Dean quickly found no signs of forced entry or a struggle. All your stuff was still here though, he recognized your backpack and laptop along with one of your canvas jackets.

That’s when he saw the flicker of firelight just beyond the window, music seeping through a partially open one. Quickly pushing past Sam he kicked open the back door and rushed out.

unfortunately the sound scared the hell out of you and you were falling out of your hammock, hand flying to your chest as if to stave off a heart attack.

“What the fuck?!’

“Y/N!” Instant relief rushed over Dean at the sight of you unscathed before him, sitting startled in the grass, the firelight from the pit giving you a sort of glow. . . but that feeling was quickly ripped away and replaced by anger as he clenched his jaw and walked closer. “What the hell Y/N?! You ever heard of picking up a damn phone?!”

On top of being startled to death you now had to add confusion, your eyebrows raising as you pushed yourself off the ground and crossed your arms, watching as the elder brother stormed across the grass, Sam slowly following behind.

“Excuse me?”

“Both Sam and I have been trying to call you! The least you could do is call us back if you don’t pick up originally!”

Holding a hand up in defense you stared down the jade eyed hunter. As surprised as you were to see him, you were beyond confused at his rage. “Woah, calm the fuck down. What the hell crawled up your ass?”

“Do you have any idea what’s been going on these past few days?!”

You gave him one of your famous are you kidding me looks before moving down a step. “I’m sitting in a hammock and drinking, Dean. Does it look like I fuckin know?”

“I was afraid you were dead!”

“Well clearly-“ you gestured time yourself. “I am not, now you mind calming down and telling me what’s going on and how the hell you found me?”

Deans jaw clenched before he sharply inhaled through his nose, whipping around to look at his brother as if saying “can you believe this woman?” As much as he loved you, you could be infuriating at times.

“Only if you tell me why the hell your playing house in some small ass southern town!”

“Fine, fine.”you nodded, raising your hands in defeat. A moment passed before Dean let his shoulders fall and walked closer, only to sink down onto one of the wooden seats of the picinic table, Sam close behind. Leaning against the trunk of the tree besides you, you let an uncomfortable silence fall between you and Dean as he looked around at the surroundings, Sam unfortunately caught in the middle of it.

“Sorry, Y/N. I have no idea why he’s in such a mood.” Sam tried.

“It’s fine, Sam. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with an angry Dean before.” You gave him a small smile before reaching for your glass of peach whiskey.

“Really, Alabama? Alabama?” Looking back towards you, Dean gave you weird look as if judging your taste.

“What? I like the humidity. Plus, this place is quiet.” You shrugged. “Now please fill me in on why you felt the need to track me down and check in on me, because dudes, you’ve never once done that before.”

The two shared a look before Sam let out a sigh, crossing his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s the British men of letters.”

“Oh fantastic, what do those tea sipping idiots want now?”

“It’s not what they want, it’s what they’re doing.”

Another wave of silence.

“Okayyy. You care to elaborate?”

“They’re killing off American hunters. Hunters with years of experience under their belt. They’ve already killed Eileen, and we think they might have mom.” Dean explained.

“Shit.” You paused, finding the proper words hard to find. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for not keeping in touch. “And you thought-“

“They were gonna come for you next. Yeah.”

“I should have called you guys when my phone broke a few weeks ago just to inform you that you wouldn't be able to reach me that way anymore. I’m really sorry.”

Dean looked like he was on the verge of another fit but luckily Sam caught it and stepped in before anything could escalate. “It’s fine Y/N. What matters is that your safe.”

“I know, I know. I just- I feel bad. You guys are welcome to spend the night here instead of in some cheap motel room, and tomorrow If you want I can help you guys figure this shit out. Get coordinated. It’s the least I can do to make up for being a shitty friend and making you guys worry.”

“If you have enough room we’ll gladly take you up in that offer.” Sam smiled, rising from the bench before pulling you into a hug. “How’d you even come by this place?”

“One of my families old hunting safe houses.” You shrugged, pulling away. “And don’t worry about room. There’s a bedroom and a pullout sofa in the sun room to the back of the house. Perfect amount of space for two grown ass men.”

“Oh no, we’re not taking up your space like that. I can sleep on the floor.” Dean shook his head as he now stood in front of you, the anger and annoyance seemingly gone. (Dean never could stay angry at you for long.)

“Dee, it’s fine. Really. I usually fall asleep in the hammock anyways. I find it more relaxing than any memory foam mattress.”

“Seriously?”

“yeah, seriously.” You shrugged with a light grin. Dean let out a soft chuckle before the two of you fell into silence once more. This time finding it to be acomfort. You both watched as Sam walked back around the side of the house, no doubt heading back to the car for their bags.

“I’m sorry for getting angry earlier. I was jsut super worried-“

“I know, I get it. It’s not the first time you’ve done that.”

You observed as Dean looked down at his hands, the hunter clearly ashamed of his earlier actions. Somewhere in the grass crickets began chirping, a bullfrog adding into the sound every once in awhile. As you watched him you could see the bags under his eyes, the heavy slump of his shoulders. Your usually vibrant Dean wasn't shining like usual.

A deep sigh left your lungs as you found your hand moving to cup the side of his face, his head lifting just enough to see the sad smile on your lips. “You look tired Mo ghraidh.”

Dean let out a soft chuckle at the words (even if after years he had yet to figure out what they meant. Once again, you and your eagerness to learn random languages), his eyes crinkled as he returned the same smile, leaning into your touch. “Oh I am tired.”

“You've been busy.”

“that's a fucking understatement.”

“Well,” You sighed, lightly patting his cheek before leaning in to press a kiss to where your palm had been. “You can tell me all about if over breakfast tomorrow, and then you can get my rundown.”

“sounds like a deal.” He swallowed, almost losing his words as he took you in. The firelight dancing across your skin and making your eyes blaze to life. God, you were beautiful. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Dee.” Your smile slowly grew as you pulled him into a tight hug, feeling him bury his face in your neck. Hugs like this felt like home. It felt peaceful and calm. . .something you hadn't been in a very long time.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Dean woke slowly the next morning, the house eerily silent as he threw back the sheets. Either you and Sam were stealth artists in the morning or he’d slept like the dead. The sunlight made the hunter squint as he trudged tiredly towards the kitchen, his eyes not used to seeing sunlight in the mornings after getting so used to a dark bunker. Sam was seated at the kitchen counter, an empty bowl of cereal next to him as he spoke softly to someone on the phone, probably Jody or Donna.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Sam slightly lifted the phone from his ear. “Y/N poured you coffee. It’s on the table.”

Mumbling a tired thanks, Dean used the heel of his hand to rub at his eyes, yawning as he moved passed Sam to wrap his hand around the mug you had left. It was only when he was sinking down into one of the vacant seats did he let his eyes search the room for you. It was easy to see that you weren’t there though. The only occupants in the house being him and his brother. Slowly sipping on the coffee in his hands he waited patiently for Sam to finish the call. When he hung up he finally allowed himself to speak.

“You seen Y/N this morning?”

“Yeah, I think she’s out back.” Sam grinned over the lip of his own mug as he watched Dean turn his head to look out the back windows. “Surprised the two of you weren’t snuggled up last night with each other.”

“Stop it.” Dean warned, turning again this time to glare at his brother.

“What? Isn’t that how it is?”

“No! And you know it. And don’t give me the whole but so many people can see it crap. You know this lifestyle aint built for romance . . .or whatever.” he muttered the last words before suddenly pushing himself up from his seat once again and heading towards the back door, coffee still in hand. Eager to leave the conversation behind.

in truth Dean wanted nothing more to be with you, Truly be with you. To hold you like you were meant to be held. To tell you he loved you. To drown you in kisses. But this life wasn't built for it. You both knew that, that was why you didn't make any bold moves towards each other. Arms length away meant safety and safety meant living.

In the morning light it was much easier to take in the surroundings, the steps to the back porch ended at the grass before the partially overgrown lawn went down to the waters edge, a weather worn dock leading out onto the blue waters. It took him a moment for his eyes to find you but when he does hes almost taken back. Your laying on the dock, one foot tangling over the water while the other was tucked up, your sunglasses perched on your nose as you hold an open book above you, clearly reading.

It’s a sight to say the least. You look calm. Content even. And that’s a very rare thing to see on you. For as long as Dean has known you, you have always been a person in motion, always busy with something, wether that be pacing the bunkers library nose deep in a lore book or swinging a machete at vamps. It’s a foreign sight to see you doing something that doesn’t involve monsters in any aspect. He pauses for a moment where the grass ends and the dock begins before stepping out onto it, the light creak making you look up from your book as he walked towards you.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Sam told me I would find you out here. You get up early?”

“I’m always up early. You know that.” You smiled, closing your book and dropping it onto your chest. “I’m surprised your up. You looked tired last night.”

“Yeah, well. My sleep schedules kinda fucked already.” Dean sighed, crossing his arms before deciding to sit down next to you.

“You look grumpy. What happened?”

“Sam happened. It’s nothing.”

Swinging your other leg back onto the dock you slowly sat up. “Doesn’t sound like nothing. You wanna talk about it?”

“Oh ho, no way.” He shook his head, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head up towards the sun. 

“Well alright, fine.” You shrugged, You knew when it was a good time to prod and when it wasn't. This was one of the latter.

“What are you doing out here anyways?”

“Reading, what does it look like?” you quipped, popping to your feet before bending down to pick up your book. “plus, I need the sun. Hunters tend to get pale when they only work in the dark.”

“maybe i should lay out her then.”

That got a laugh out of you.

“What?”

“Dude, you lay out here for an hour and its gonna look like you got bitch slapped by the sun. . .no offense.” You joked, holding out a hand to hoist him up.

“Nah, you're probably right.”

“I would pay good money to see that though.”

“You're such an asshole.”

“I know.” giving him a pat on the shoulder you began walking back towards the house, the hunter watching you closely as you retreated.

There was something different out you. The way you carried yourself and the way you spoke. Most people wouldn't catch on but he did. Something was off. He could practically feel it radiating off of you in waves, even if you were acting like everything was normal. You were acting uncommonly lighthearted.

“You said last night you were gonna tell me why you're all the way out here in some small town USA. Care to fill me in?” He suddenly spoke, following you off the dock.

There was silence for a moment, almost as if he caught you off guard. “I told you, it’s a family safe house. I was staying here while hunting the rugaru. Just needed a week to rest up before I headed out again.” You shrugged.

A week to rest up? When Sam has talked to Jody she had said you had been out here for almost five. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you walk up the back steps. There was something else you weren’t telling him.

“You found a new case yet?”

“Oh uh. . . No. No I haven’t.” Shaking your head casually before holding the door open for Dean and stepping inside.

There was his second hint that something was up. You were the type of hunter that was always on their toes, looking for the next case before one was wrapped up. Dean didn’t know how you did it. Sure he could do some cases back to back, but he needed breaks every once and awhile.

“Rugaru case must have whipped your ass, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure did.” You mumble.

Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off when you beat him to it. “Let’s get to work on figuring out how to handle these British bastards, okay?” You gave Dean one of your soft smiles, running a hand through his hair as you passed by and entered the kitchen.

Watching you go, Dean felt a new sense of worry grow in his chest. You weren’t acting like you. Something was eating at you, and the thought of you being in pain broke his heart.

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[outlawandlychgate]

Chapter 2-King of the Dead; Scene 3

Outlaw & Lychgate, pages 26-39

A black tuxedo, and contrasting white skin.

Arth spoke first to the man waiting in the roof garden.

“Long time no see, wicked spirit.”

“My…You figured me out quick. Even though this is the first time you’ve met me with this appearance…”

“I could sense it. Now that I no longer have a body of flesh and blood, I’ve become able to discern between people using more than just appearances alone.”

“Thank goodness for that. I’d been thinking about changing into my black Rollam bird form if you didn’t recognize me.”

Arth didn’t care either way.

Human or bird, no matter what form he took it didn’t change this man’s true nature.

“Would you prefer I take my leave?” Bruno asked Arth.

“Yes, please do. I want to speak with him alone—And thank you, Bruno. This was a pretty frivolous errand I asked of you.”

“I don’t mind. …I got to hear an interesting story.”

“Oh, would that be—” He could generally guess the contents. “—About my having been a ‘mud doll’?”

“Yes.”

“I see…”

“Well, in the end it’s more a fairytale to me, I suppose. Never mind who you two are.”

“I suppose so…What do you plan to do now?”

“I think I might wander the world a little with my friends. There are a few acquaintances of mine that didn’t come here, after all. After that…I’ll probably go through the gate.”

“Really? You—intend to go to the ‘new world’.”

“There’s no point in continuing to wander this world forever, I would think.”

“…True.” Arth clapped Bruno on the shoulder. “Well then, take care of yourself.”

“You too, King Arth—Though the two of us have already died, ha ha.”

Bruno moved to go down the stairs, lightly chuckling.

“…Ah, wait just a second.”

Arth abruptly called Bruno back.

“What is it?”

“Could you send Keel Freezis up here? He should be in the Hall of Mirrors.”

“That merchant with the spectacles, right? Very well.”

Bruno nodded, and then left.

“…Now then.” Arth turned back to Lich. “Back…to you, Lich. Frankly I never thought the day would come that I’d see you again.”

“Last we met was around the time your wife gave birth to twins, as I recall.”

“You’d seemed quite shaken back then, unusually so.”

“You could say that. A doll that I had thought would simply wither away had just had a child with a human being, you know. I was shocked, and…delighted.”

“But you disappeared after that—you never showed up again. At the time I hadn’t understood why, but…”

Arth looked down over the garden in front of the palace from the roof.

Just as inside it was brimming with people’s souls.

“…I had a chat with Lady Banica Conchita a little while ago.”

When Arth uttered that name, Lich’s countenance seemed to shift slightly.

“About…what?”

“Well, various things. She’s a woman I had originally only known as a figure from books…My impression of her has changed a bit.”

There was a brief silence.

Grasping that Arth didn’t seem like he would speak about Banica any further, Lich cut in to change the topic, “--What’s the current situation?”

“A lot of people are in disarray. We’ll need to calm them down before we take them to the gate. However…there’s several complications.”

“Oh. Such as?”

“First, the Tasan soldiers. Even now that they’ve lost their black box and the person giving them orders, there are still some of them who are trying to keep fighting. There’s no way to settle a battle between souls. So…we’ll have to get them to lower their weapons somehow.”

“These people lived in a different time period from you. It won’t be easy to talk them down.”

“I’m leaving that part to Gallerian Marlon and his daughter. Apparently he has some ideas.”

“—I see. What else?”

Arth passed his gaze to the south, and then once more met eyes with Lich.

“One other peculiar occurrence has happened. And it’s…the reason why I called you here.”

“How intriguing. Both whatever this occurrence must be, and also the fact that you’re seeking to borrow my abilities in itself.”

“There’s no one else qualified for it. No one can face off against—those ‘dead soldiers’.”

Yes, the “dead soldiers”.

There was no longer anything living in this world.

Not just humans. All of the animals and plants, too.

And despite that—there were still beings who wandered the world with physical bodies.

“Southeast from here…where the fortress called Retasan used to be. A--gathering of dead soldiers was sighted there.”

“…”

Lich said not a word, but it was clear from his expression that he was growing interested in this story.

Arth continued speaking.

“I checked with Lady Banica, but apparently neither she nor her servants have any knowledge of them…I’ll ask you here now just to be sure—”

“Naturally, they have nothing to do with me either.”

“—Right. Then that leads us to the question of who it was that brought these dead soldiers about.”

“A similar event was witnessed during the end times…right before the world was destroyed. Dead soldiers with nothing to do with us, independent of ‘Gluttony’’s power, appeared—and they refused to follow our orders.”

“Lady Banica told me about that.”

“We named those dead soldiers ‘Outlaws’…Eater and I were the ones who dealt with them.”

“But you weren’t able to settle the matter.”

“These dead soldiers are such that they will endlessly surge forth as long as there’s dead bodies around. Nothing is quite so dangerous as when you make an enemy of them. …But I think it ultimately got left up in the air at the end, thanks to the world being destroyed.”

Still, the fact was that these Outlaws were continuing to appear even after the world’s end.

“…However.” Lich made a show of thinking for a moment, and then asked, “It’s not a big deal, surely? I can’t imagine these Outlaws can interfere with souls that have no physical body.”

“The reverse is also true. We…are unable to interfere with these Outlaws ourselves.”

“Considering neither of you are able to so much as touch the other, you ought to just leave it be.”

“I thought that too. But—” Arth’s brows drew in. “From what I heard from Lady Banica—there are souls dwelling in the dead soldiers as well, aren’t there?”

“…Yes, that’s right. The owners of the bodies in life should still be in there—”

“Then I want to do something to free those souls. There may be those among them that wish to go to the ‘new world’ but are unable to because they are bound by their dead soldier bodies.”

Lich brought both hands up before his chest and then clapped at Arth.

“How stupendous. What a magnificent idea. But…that has nothing to do with me.”

“You’d think so. Lady Banica said much the same, and refused to deal with this matter.”

“So then—”

“But your situation is a little different, isn’t it?”

“My…How do you figure that?”

Arth’s tone grew firmer as he said, “You once investigated into the dead soldiers as a method for creating a new breed of humanity. That was why you became Lady Banica’s servant. For you—I would think these Outlaws are an interesting subject, are they not? There’s even a chance that if you study them you could create a new humanity in this world—”

“—I seem to recall someone else telling me something similar just recently…But I no longer have any more interest in such things, Arth.”

“--! But, still—”

“Alright alright, calm down.”

Lich patted Arth’s arms in a placating fashion.

And then after a moment he replied, “—Well, alright. I do have some business that I’ve left unfinished."

“I see, so you’ll do it!”

Arth grinned.

“I will…And I’ll bring Eater with me. He has the dead soldier body I made for him. If he destroys these Outlaw bodies then that might release their souls that way.”

“Eater…You mean that giant skeleton?”

“Yes. He played a big role in the battle earlier, didn’t he? Where is he now?”

Arth looked a bit troubled at seeing Lich’s proud expression.

“…He’s not here right now.”

“…Huh?”

“He went off somewhere with Lady Banica and her twin servants. They said they had some business elsewhere.”

“W…wait just a second. You mean—”

“Hm, it sounds like…they left you behind.”

“…”

“In Lady Banica’s defense…She did look for you? But she couldn’t find you, so—”

“…I see. That was my oversight, wasting time in the forest ruins like I was.”

Seeing Lich’s very obviously depressed air, Arth suddenly started to laugh without thinking. “Haha. To think, even you can make a face like that. …Though I guess I couldn’t see your expressions when you were a bird.”

“Where did they say they were going?”

“I don’t know, but…Keel Freezis might have asked them about it.”

“The Elphegortean merchant.”

Arth looked a little surprised at Lich’s quick response.

“Do you know him?”

“We’ve never met face to face. But Micha—a fellow spirit once spent some time in his care.”

It was a peculiar connection they had.

But it wasn’t a big issue by this point.

“I asked Bruno to call him up here, so he should be coming soon—Oop, speak of the devil.”

A man of delicate features wearing spectacles had come up the stairs to the roof garden.

“You called me, King Arth?”

“You seemed like you were talking about something with Lady Banica earlier.”

“I was. But she’s already headed off.”

“Did you ask her where she was going? I’d like you to tell this man here, if you know.”

“I wouldn’t…mind, but…” Keel gave Lich a fixed stare, and then said, “I have a condition.”

“Oh my. Bartering with a king, are you?”

“Sometimes information is more valuable than gold. I would be a disgrace as a merchant if I just handed it away for free. –Even if it’s to the king of a country.”

He would most certainly have taken the same attitude with Arth even if they had met when they were both alive.

He thought to himself that he seemed quite the shrewd man—though Arth certainly didn’t mind such people.

He much preferred it to toady sorts who never let their intentions show on the surface.

“Very well. What do you want?”

“You plan to send this man to Retasan, correct? To resolve the matter with the dead soldiers you spoke of.”

“…Good guess. That’s right.”

“In that case, I’d like you to let me accompany him.”

Arth looked surprised, and—

Lich made a bluntly displeased expression.

“Are you interested in the dead soldiers?” Arth asked.

“I am. And—in this man too.” Keel pointed to Lich with a thin smile. “I shall endeavor to not get in the way. We can’t come into physical contact with the dead soldiers anyhow, yes?”

“That…is true.”

Arth looked to Lich with a slightly troubled expression.

“What do you think, Lich?”

“…I don’t really mind,” Lich replied as he glowered at Keel.

And then he asked him:

“So where did Lady Banica and the others go?”

Keel let out a huff, and then quietly responded, “—They said they were going to the ‘graveyard’.”

“…The graveyard, huh. That’s it for me, then.” Lich sighed. “I don’t know how to get there.”

“They said they would return here when their business was taken care of. Should we wait until then?”

“No…Let’s go see how things are at Retasan first. If it looks too difficult to manage on our own, we’ll bring Eater along then.”

“Wise decision. We’ve no guarantee they’ll come back right away. …Actually, it’s up in the air whether or not they come back safely at all—”

Keel laughed boldly.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Oh no, nothing—Well then, let’s make haste. I have a carriage and a coachman waiting outside.”

“…You’re well prepared.”

“Retasan is a long ways away. Souls might not get tired from walking but I’d rather the trip were pleasant, wouldn’t you agree?”

“If it were just me I could simply fly there…Well, alright. Wait for me outside.”

“Alright. Be seeing you.”

Keel went down the stairs, his smile never wavering.

Arth gazed at him doubtfully as he left.

“That merchant…What is he planning?”

But for his part Lich had already regained his snide smile. “I’ve got a pretty good idea. It’s nothing to worry about overmuch.”

“I suppose I’ll leave it be if you say so, but—”

“King Arth. Just one thing before we head out.” Lich stuck up his index finger, and asked, “Once this is all resolved, and you’ve set people off towards the gate…What do you plan to do then?”

“Hmph…” Arth crossed his arms and quietly closed his eyes.

“I still haven’t entirely decided on that—I’m considering remaining here.”

“My…Why is that?”

“I imagine that not everyone wishes to go to the new world. In that case…There will most certainly need to be someone to bring together all the people who stay behind.”

“So you intend to become king of the dead, hm…But that’s bound to lead to some barren and empty days, isn’t it?”

“I still haven’t given up on this world being reborn. If we can revive nature, and get ahold of new physical bodies—It is for that reason I would be grateful if you stayed and offered us your assistance.”

“…I don’t know, I’ll think about it.”

He couldn’t hold Lich back with force—that was something that Arth knew.

He was free to decide whatever he wanted.

Even if he was a wicked spirit—no, because of that.

He could not bind this man.

.

After wordlessly seeing off Lich from the rooftop, Arth looked up at the sky.

There he saw the sun and—regardless of the fact that it was midday—the moon, shining.

“The new world…and everyone in it…I’ll trust you with that Allen, Riliane,” he whispered quietly.  

<<prev------directory------next>>

[sanvitheartificer]

time for “I’m gonna screw up my courage and post creative ideas, i guess”  latest little interest-drift is Megamind, which i DID see once, when it came out? I should rewatch it, but that would require tracking it down, and i’m pretty sure I’m going to be bored of the movie by the time I can make myself do that.  I mention this because this is going to be.... nooooot well researched, i guess? like I’m going off fanfic and vague recollections of a movie i watched 10 years ago and i refuse to double check anything because the POINT is to be honest about what I’m thinking about without having to make it well-put-together. 

so, this is a fun idea! but not a good one. 

anyway: concept for a fic i’ll never write! it’s a post-canon time-travel fix-it story where Megamind saves his planet. I’m Pretty Sure that Megamind universe specifically doesn’t allow time travel/a redo button, BUT i have a way around that.  once i read a really interesting harry potter fic wherein George saved Fred. in HP time travel seems to work okay, as long as you’re doing something that you already did -- Harry sees his future self saving himself, for example. So in this fic, George went back in time, hid from everyone in the past, and made Fred’s death look exactly like he remembered -- but secretly saved him. It had always happened that way; Fred had never actually died in that battle; everyone just thought he did. And then George took Fred back to the future! and he was alive after that, just missing, like, a year of his life or whatever. (i might be getting which twin dies mixed up and i’ll tell you what: i literally don’t care)  This has always been a fascinating concept that I’ve wanted to use in something, and a universe like Megamind where I’m (pretty sure?) they say “reset buttons aren’t a thing” is perfect for it.  So! Post canon, Megamind is a hero, is traumatized, is dating Roxanne, etcetera. at some point “I’m literally the last of my species and so is Minion” comes up. 

Roxanne... wonders. about this. it’s horrifically traumatic, of course, and he did say that thing about reset buttons being impossible, but... also. also? she’s seen a LOT of impossible things, lately. She asks Megamind some subtle, theoretical, “just curious” questions about time travel. What, exactly, is impossible about it? 

You can’t change what’s already happened, he says. Paradox. The time-space continuum won’t let it happen. Trust me, I tried. You can... you can go back, but you can’t change anything, all you can do is, is, walk around an empty field maybe, at the most. 

He looks so sad at that that she stops pushing. But Minion keeps records of almost every experiment they’ve ever tried, every machine they’ve ever built and she has access, now, and... it could work. She’s just human, she’s not sure, but she thinks maybe it could work, she could give him -- give him a world, she laughs, a little hysterically, because sometimes people say “i want to give them the moon” and that’s supposed to be hyperbole and this is -- this is even bigger, somehow, what is she even thinking -- 

but she keeps thinking about it. is the thing.

megamind goes quiet, still, when she finally brings it up, and roxanne flinches but meets his gaze. she won’t back down from this. not when it’s this, not when there’s a chance she could save a whole world. two worlds, even!

he’s angry, and he’s scared, and minion at his side isn’t playing peacekeeper like he normally would, because minion looks just as angry, or maybe even more. 

how could you, minion says, roxanne, how could you, and roxanne flinches but she meets his gaze, and she has never seen minion so angry in her life. 

tell me it won’t work.

she looks, steady, in both their faces, caving in with a grief bigger than she can imagine, the anger of a hundred trillion billion lives, just gone. 

Tell me it won’t work, and I won’t -- I’ll -- I can’t make up for telling you this, for asking you this, she says, I can’t, but I’ll say what I can, I’ll do what I can to fix it. But first tell me it won’t work, that it’s completely impossible, because if it’s possible it’s -- it’s your world, and her voice cracks, because she can’t say anything bigger than that, because there is no poetry in the universe that could contain a loss that immense. 

and megamind shakes his head, and minion’s fists are clenched so hard the metal creaks, and neither of them. says. anything. 

Megamind discovers, after figuring out how to compare earth time to time thirty years in the past in another part of space, that the black hole actually should not have destroyed his planet for an hour. after what he remembers. it’s not... clear, of course, because anyone who was close enough to measure this accurately is dead. but. but it doesn’t match up, and maybe it’s his calculations, or his memories; he was eight days old; maybe he’s wrong 

(maybe he’s not. maybe there’s. maybe there’s a possibility.) 

and once he’s started thinking about it he can’t stop. of course he can’t stop. it’s his world, every person who looks like him in the whole universe, it’s -- he’s lived on earth his entire life, but this is -- 

Megamind starts theorizing about making something that looks a lot like a black hole, that could transport entire planets through time. he starts doing experiments. if you take something forward -- if no one knows -- 

it seems to work, somehow; it’s so complicated that even Megamind isn’t entirely sure why, or how, this will work. he can’t stop a black hole, but maybe he can swallow up his world, steal it away before it gets a chance, maybe he can -- he thinks of his parent, saying, “you are destined for -- “ and laughs and laughs because maybe what he destined for is! is this! to destroy his entire planet before the black hole even gets there! maybe he is -- maybe he is -- 

but the thing is. there will be a device. a very large device, and he’ll have to somehow simulate a black hole swallowing two planets whole, he’ll have to find some way to yank them all forward; he needs someone who’s impossibly strong, who can move fast. an hour, an hour (57 minutes 33 seconds 12 milliseconds --  will it be enough? could it possibly be enough?) they could arrive sooner but no one can see them and even he can’t sustain a jump for very long, not when they want to bring two planets back with them -- he needs. wayne. he needs metro man. 

they talk. sometimes. it’s awkward. wayne hasn’t gotten any better at guitar, even though it’s been three and a half years, now. megamind still doesn’t like him, but... well... he’s. metro man. they’ve always been something to each other, and it’s harder to give that up than he ever would have expected. besides, roxanne likes it, when they talk. she doesn’t like metro man, either, but she thinks he’s someone, too, was friends with him for a long time. it’s wrong, somehow, to just never talk to him, terrible music and decades of enmity and horrible betrayal of a faked death or not. 

on very rare occasions he even has semi-kind-of useful-ish advice about the whole “hero” thing. minion still refuses to acknowledge metro man’s continuing existence, but megamind is... he’s not. angry, or sad, that he didn’t actually die, that megamind didn’t actually kill him. whatever he is, it’s not sad. 

roxanne is there, when they talk to wayne. even minion is there, angry, angry, angry, but there, asking. 

wayne laughs. megamind asks him to help save both of their planets, billions and billions of sentient lives, and he laughs, like it’s a good joke, and roxanne thinks that this is the evillest laugh she’s ever heard and minion somehow looks even angrier than when she first brought up the possibility and he’s still -- he’s -- how can he possibly be this -- 

c’mon, he says, you’re not serious.

wayne is. he’s stupid, but he isn’t this stupid. roxanne pretended to date him for long enough that she recognizes the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. 

wayne is terrified. 

megamind looks ready to lunge at him invulnerable or not and minion just goes blank and roxanne grabs wayne’s arm, like she’s back at one of the endless fancy galas and he’s just said something thoughtless to the mayor, and she smiles with teeth, and she says, give me a minute alone with wayne, will you? thanks. 

they step aside and she rounds on him. 

they were serious, and you know it, she says, calm. that was cruel, she says, like she’s talking to a child. like she’s talking to someone who doesn’t know better. 

i, he says, and doesn’t complete the sentence. 

you. don’t have to help, she says, although the words scrape her throat; they can’t do this without him, and it’s not her world but it is -- it’s megamind’s world, it’s minion’s world, and she’s spent so long thinking -- trying to figure this out -- listening -- some days she can almost see it, before the black hole, before anything -- billions and billions and billions of lives -- but she is a reporter and she is used to talking neutrally about things that are not neutral at all so she says, you don’t have to help. but you can’t... don’t make fun of them. don’t pretend like it’s not serious. this is their home world, it’s their whole species, it’s, it’s your -- 

wayne interrupts her. THIS IS MY HOME, he roars, and he is frightening, now, three heads taller than roxanne already and floating three feet off the ground. this is! i! i’m! human!

his voice breaks. wayne never was a good liar. 

this is my home, he says, weakly, but wayne never was a good liar, and this time he isn’t lying at all. 

roxie, i’m tired, he says. i’m so tired of being the hero -- being the only one who can -- what if they don’t like me? he says, and he looks like a child, again, and he sounds like a child, again, an alien who could pretend, could pretend really well, but was never really -- 

wayne never was a good liar. except, of course, when he was lying to himself. 

wayne, she says, wayne. i won’t lie to you. this isn’t... fair. to ask you. you’re not a hero, anymore, and it’s not... fair. but. but... 

she takes a deep breath. 

you have a home. here. and you won’t. you won’t lose it, okay? I’m still your friend, and your parents are still, still your parents, still the people that raised you. we’re... we’re adding things, okay? we’re not taking them away. 

and you’re -- i’m so, so, so sorry wayne, but you really are the only one who can do it, this time. 

they are quiet, for a moment. and then roxanne says, quietly, have you ever heard him sing? 

wayne looks confused, past the anger, past the fear. he shakes his head. 

he only knows a few songs. they didn’t... he... he knows a few songs. he’s sung them for me, and told me what they -- wayne. there were sunsets, there, over the sea, the whole world lit up in red and blue and gold shining the ocean vibrating with music, and he says -- he told me, once, that your world had mountains, bigger than any of earth’s mountains, and once they lived at the very top, they -- 

stop, he says, soft, in all the ways wayne never is, 

music man, she says, don’t you want to listen to the music you never got to hear? 

stop, he demands, glass-fragile. 

he only knows a few songs, she says, bleakly. and her voice is like a black hole that wayne cannot remember, empty, empty with its impossible fullness. two entire worlds, and he only knows a few songs. 

okay, wayne whispers. 

okay. 

i’ll help. 

[trashcankitty12]

Musa Headcanons:

She’s sassy, she’s musically gifted, and she could 100% steal your significant other if she wanted too.

Meet Musa Kai, the Guardian Fairy of Melody and the lead singer for her band. (Though her band is usually Riven, Tecna, and Layla... But whatever.)

(Again all headcanons here are for my main verse and my “Left” verse. Thank you.)

-Musa’s a daddy’s girl, whether she’ll admit it or not. There’s not much she wouldn’t do for her father (aside from give up her own music career). And he absolutely adores her and had a tendency to spoil her (though those moments were few and far between after Matlin passed). Ho-Boe is so proud of his daughter and how amazing she’s become, he regrets trying to make her stay out of the music world.

-(He knows it was Mandragora’s poison that killed her, that the medication the Company came up with during the war was only a temporary solution, and not music that killed her. But he felt that she ended up straining herself and going passed her limits and the limits of the medication by continuing to perform.)

-Musa may have been a daddy’s girl, but she was extremely close to her mother, too. She loved singing and learning how to play new instruments with her mother and adored the stories her mother shared of being at Alfea and the (sanitized and child-friendly) versions of her Company of Light stories.

-Musa was absolutely crushed when her mother died and saw her father’s anger surge. She was 8 and confused and scared. All she wanted was her mother. (She did her best to sing at Matlin’s funeral, she tried, but the words wouldn’t come and her father’s hands trembled too much to play his koto.)

-She stayed with her maternal grandparents for a long time after her mother’s death, wanting to give her father space and to let him get his record company back on track. (And his emotions. He’d destroyed so many of their music sheets and instruments and even some of their records… And Musa felt helpless at trying to make him feel better, especially since she wasn’t feeling her best either.)

-Her grandparents encouraged Musa to continue her love of music and helped her figure out how she could get her emotions out with help from her music. How therapeutic it could be.

-(They’d helped Matlin to pursue her passions, and they felt they owed Musa the same courtesy.)

-She didn’t have too many friends growing up, or cousins her age to hang out with. Ho-Boe was determined to homeschool her for as long as possible, wanting to protect her from the outside world and the dangers of it.

-(Musa, like Layla, became an expert at sneaking out of the house, though she has a feeling her grandparents always knew what she was up too and just chose to let her have her freedom.)

-Mostly she snuck out to concerts or clubs, soaking in the music and letting it feel her heart and soul. It always felt so tangible and real to her, as if it was its own entity. Being away from it for too long felt… Like she was dying.

-Musa did have one cousin she was close to, the only cousin her age really. Galatea.

-Yes, Princess Galatea is Musa’s cousin. Her father, King Garomius, is Musa’s father’s eldest cousin. He became next in line after Ho-Boe abdicated the throne to pursue his music career his life with Matlin. (And the two of them remained close, even after Ho-Boe’s other family decided he was dead to them.)

-In fact, Galatea’s Princess Ball was the first and last time Musa ever met her paternal grandparents and her great uncles and great aunts. But she ignored them, feeling that if they felt her mother wasn’t good enough for them, then neither was she.

-(She and Galatea had a great time though, and a wonderful childhood growing up, even if Galatea is two years younger.)

-Like most from the Harmonics realms, Musa has perfect pitch and exceptional hearing. (She can use echolocation if she focuses enough on the sounds. But it takes practice to do and it often causes migraines if done for too long.)

-Her favorite instrument is her flute, even if she doesn’t use it in her performances much. It makes her think of her father and it was the first instrument she had that was hers. (It’s even got her name engraved.)

-Musa transformed for the first time after she’d turned 11 and had been arguing with her father after he’d found her guitar and flute. She’d refused to let them be destroyed and her magic summoned itself to transform her and let her protect her instruments.

-Ho-Boe had been so excited about her transformation that he’d allowed her to keep the instruments and quickly began starting her on more magic lessons and prepping her for entrance exams to the Magical Dimensions’ fairy schools. (Musa had almost, almost been a Beta fairy. Ehhh.)

-When Musa got to Alfea, she really clicked with Tecna. Yes, it helped they were roommates and had to share space so often, but Tecna was just… Everything Musa felt she needed in a friend.

-Tecna’s listening skills and ability to pick up on things made it easy for Musa to open up to Tecna (on her terms, of course). And it made it easy for her to feel okay with zoning out for a while with her music if she was having a bad day (or a depressive episode) without feeling like she had to explain it all to Tecna. Because she didn’t, Tecna already knew and just went with it by going about her own projects.

-(And the day that Tecna asked about learning to play an instrument to help her develop a new skillset for a ‘just in case’ scenario made Musa’s whole year. She figured keyboards would be for the best since Tecna’s already fast with her fingers and accurate.)

-Musa is the fastest flyer out of the girls. And yes, she rubs it in. (Especially to Layla. They have flying races often.)

-Musa has regular tea-time with Flora. It helps her to remind herself to take care of herself (because Flora always asks about her feelings and health) and it gives her a chance to wind down for a bit.

-She loves her pixie, Tune, but the manner’s bit drives her crazy from time-to-time. Thankfully, Tune has learned that Musa’s being blunt doesn’t mean she’s rude and Musa has learned just because Tune is very into manners doesn’t mean she’s pretentious. (And they’ve both really bonded through movies and pretend formal parties with Piff.)

-Musa and Riven have had many ups and downs as a couple and have had their moments of anger, but they both try to tamper it down as they get older. It helps that they’ve come up with an ‘honesty box’. They both make a ‘box’ around themselves and just speak their minds. No judgements, just talking and explaining and, if all goes well, a plan is made to try and fix the problem… Or at least, an effort is made to understand the problem.

-Musa is one of the few who knows just how bad Riven’s mother fucked with him, and she does her best to remind him that the opinions and actions of a bitch like that shouldn’t bother him. She understands why it does, and it’s okay that he feels hurt, but he is a better person than he gives himself credit for. (He’s not like his mother… He’s better than her.)

-She’s the first one to initiate pillow-fights and prank wars within the Winx Group. (Though she’s learned the hard way not to try and prank a sleeping Bloom… A fire fairy that’s startled awake is prone to burning the person ‘attacking’ them. Not fun. Thank the Dragon’s for Layla.)

-She’s also the first one to fall asleep. (Musa’s sort of like a shark. If she stops moving, she’s out. Though instead of death, it’s sleep.)

-Even though Musa loved her short hair (easy to style and kept her cool when it was hot), she wanted to experiment with her hair a bit and let it elongate. So far, she likes it alright, but she may cut it again in the future. Or go for a completely new style. Who knows?

-Musa had the best grades in the group, but only because she fought hard to study for exams and did her best on the homework. (Her mother was an A student. She would be too.)

-Out of the specialists, Musa’s actually pretty close Brandon and Timmy, for differing reasons.

-Musa and Brandon enjoy talking shit together when playing games. They also have a game (bad habit) where when out in public, they make remarks about ‘who walks by to check them out’ and making up ‘interesting scenarios with those people’ just to see what Stella and Riven will do.

-(They were not prepared for Stella and Riven to try their own version of the game, one that went explicit real fast. Never again…)

-Timmy likes to come to Musa for advice on Tecna (and to help get gifts for Tecna without her knowing). And they enjoy talking about music theory and how music can affect the mind and hearing.

-Musa has scars. Lots of scars. Mostly from childhood misadventures, but there a few from her adventures at Alfea and on Earth.

-(She likes Earth, by the way. The music here isn’t as soul-reaching in her opinion, but she enjoys the effort we non-magical beings put into our creative works. Her favorite genre so far is surprisingly showtunes…)

-Musa has a taste for spicy food and honestly the rest of the Winx are concerned that she no longer has tastebuds. At all. Like none.

-She is the second most-likely Winx to get physical in a fight, the first being Layla. (Musa’s getting pretty good at learning how to use a bo-staff and has trained in Melody’s martial art of Gian Liea.)

-Musa loves watching singing-reality shows. She goes on a binge and does her best to figure out what’s liked the most so she can incorporate them into her next performance.

-Musa loves being on stage and getting recognized for her music. She does not like having a whole ‘hero worship’ thing going on around her. (Yes, she helped save the Magical Dimension a few times. But dammit that’s mostly because she lives in the Magical Dimension and the authorities seem to be useless.)

-Musa may or may not have a juvenile record. (And it may or may not have to do with ‘disturbing the peace’, ‘fighting in non-designated zones’, and ‘vandalism’.)

-She’s fluent in several languages from the Harmonics realms and has learned a few of Earth’s languages too. (Not to mention, the language of Magix, also known as the linking language of all the Magical Dimension.)

-During her time at Alfea, Musa was part of the jazz club, glee club, band, and choir. She also briefly played Magi-Ball, but had to quit due to an injury to her knees.

-It shouldn’t be a surprise, but Musa wants to be an amazing music star, just like her mother was. She just hopes she’s talented enough to make it. (Which her father swears she’s does, and that just makes her feel like the best musician ever.)

[gautierprotectionsquad]

Crossover fic: Cut&Run / AFTG. Ty Grady/Zane Garrett. Andrew Minyard/Neil Josten. Trying my best at being canon compliant.

Summary: Ty and Zane work in the Baltimore offices of the FBI. Neil Josten was taken in by the FBI in Baltimore. This crossover was practically handed right to me and the only reason no one has wrote it is bc of the lack of overlap between fandoms. Hope someone enjoys.

The Federal Bureau of Investigation in Baltimore have been after The Butcher for over 10 years. They knew it was Nathan Wesninski but were never able to gather enough evidence to convince. Well, Mr. Wesninski had just returned home from prison and the FBI were ready with a welcome home present just for him. Or at least so they thought.

Ty Grady stood, pointed his gun, ready to shoot while someone shouted "FBI. PUT YOUR HANDS UP" and agents entered the building. Someone was sitting in a chair in front of Nathan Wesninski's house. As he got closer, Ty realized that they were bleeding, another couple steps, realized they were tied to the chair.

He was just a boy. The boy smiled, crazed.

  "My name is Nathaniel Wesninski and my father is dead." The boy couldn't stop laughing.

Agents left the building. One of them said "sir, everyone was dead when we walked in. No survivors. Confirmed that one of the bodies was Wesninski's.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  ***

  "I wasn't even aware Wesninki had a kid," Zane said as he watched Nathaniel through the 2-sided mirror.

  ��"No one did. This is so fucked up. Tortured his own damn kid." Ty couldn't jeep the anger out of his voice. He came in first thing to see how the kid was doing, wanting to know what they’ve gotten out of him so far. They needed this kid. He was the only thing they had to crack down on the rest of the Butcher’s people.

   Nathaniel aka Neil Josten had just gotten out of the hospital and was now being interrogated by two fbi agents. The boy was completely covered in bandages covering up burn marks from god knows what and deep cuts all over.

   One of the agents left the room. "He's refusing to talk.”

   “That man almost killed him but he’s protecting his people now?” Zane asked.

   “No. He wants to talk to his team first.”

   "Team?" Zane asked

   "Neil Josten is the star striker for the Palmetto State Foxes exy team," Ty answered.

   "You've got to be kidding me. He's been on TV?"

   The other agent spoke. "They've been looking for him. We already called his coach. They're on their way in a discreet van. They'll be here soon."

****

His teammates were insane. Every single one of them. The Palmetto State Foxes were famous for being a team filled with problem children that the rest of society gave up on as well as being insanely talented. Every. Single. One of them refused to talk. The only thing they'd say is "Let me see Neil" and nothing else. Ty didn't think they knew anything anyway. It wasn't until a five foot gremlin pulled a knife on one of the agents that they decided to let them all get their way. But not without the knife kid getting handcuffed to his coach.

They put them all in a hotel room and gave them 20 minutes.

Neil agreed to tell them everything as long as Andrew, the knife gremlin, came with and that he not be put in witness protection. Instead, he'll be allowed to live his life as Neil Josten of the Palmetto State Foxes.

  "Wait. He doesn't want witness protection?" Zane asked, confused.

  "The coach is just as insane as the rest of them. Yeah. Nathaniel would rather play exy." said agent Brown, his hands in the air, angry that Neil had threatened him and gotten what he wanted.

For some reason, it didn't sit right with Ty that Brown was still calling him Nathaniel. Everyone that cared about the kid considered him Neil. Anyway, referring to the kid as Nathaniel Wesninski when his father's name was Nathan Wesninski was confusing as fuck and such a headache for Ty. Neil Josten was easier.

  "It's sort of smart. He's a public figure. We can't take him away without everyone knowing what happened. And someone's bound to recognize him from tv. Being so visible makes him easy to find but it's also it's own form of protection. No one can kill him without risking cameras or everyone on the news talking about it."

  As if to prove Ty's point, the station they were currently on started talking about Neil Josten, the sports anchors all taking a guess at what happened based only on rumors. Some of them were right, that he was kidnapped, while others were outlandish and, unfortunately for Neil Josten, not nearly as outlandish as the reality. Can't kidnap a public figure without everyone talking about it.

  They all took shifts to take notes on Neil's story. It started when he was just 10 years old and it was long and impressive. Even agent Brown stopped giving Neil shit after learning about their choice to keep running rather than staying with another crime family for protection. Andrew sat next to him the whole time, clearly a calming presence for Neil, giving him strength.

  Ty and Zane both came into the interrogation room after 3 hours. Zane handed Neil and Andrew some food.

  "Looks like we're in the 7th inning stretch" Ty said, hoping to lighten the mood.

  "I don't speak baseball," Neil said.

  Ty gave Zane a pained look. Zane just smiled.

  "Half time, then. Are those in exy?" Ty asked, not able to remove his rude tone.

  That resulted in Neil giving a 10 minute long speech about the rules of exy. Zane was probably imagining it but for a second he thought he saw a pained look in Andrew's eyes before he went back to his usual bland expression.

  Ty put his hand up. "I'm going to have to stop you there. Breaks over. We should get your story over with. The sooner you finish, the sooner we can all go home."

  That shut him up. He sighed, looked at Andrew for support, then continued where he left off. His father had caught up to him and his mother and his mother had stopped to fight back. She was hurt. Bad. But she kept driving until they got to a beach and then died. Neil didn't specify which beach but he told them that he burned the car and then buried her, got rid of all their belongings and evidence and set up his current and final identity. Neil Josten. How he gave up running and just let his father capture him when he threatened his teammates.

  Ty felt like he was leaving some things out but it didn't matter. They were getting names, they were going to bring Nathan Wesninski's people down. The kid was a pathological liar forced to spill his whole unfortunate life story. Let him keep a few secrets.

  When he got to his father's "birthday present" Ty couldn't stop himself from gagging. Zane grimaced, also grossed out. Especially because Neil said it so casually.

  "Don't worry. It was animal blood," he said as if it made everything better. Ty was reminded of Neil's look of delight when he said his father was dead. That kid was going to need some major therapy.

  Ty and Zane went home late that night, not even caring if people saw them leaving together. Ty drove one handed, the other hand clasped in Zane's, resting on Zane's thigh. Neither of them spoke, knowing that both of them were thinking about Neil Josten aka Alex Rodriguez aka Johnathan Collins aka Henry West and so on and so forth. A kid that grew up with a serial killer and mobster for a father and the scars to prove it. A kid kept hidden and then forced on the run until he couldn't run anymore.

   Ty knew Neil was lying about not knowing where the rest of the money his mother stole from his father was but Ty didn't give a shit. Not like the other agents like Brown would. Let the kid have it.

  Finally, Zane spoke up. "So what the fuck is exy?"

  Ty chuckled. "Didn't you hear the kid's 10 minute long rant?"

  "Those rules don't even make any sense. How is it even physically possible to stop a goal. And what do you mean mouth guards are optional?"

  "I'll put a game on when we get home and you'll see. I hear the knife gremlin's insanely talented. Like Olympian level."

  Zane lay on the couch while Ty put on a rerun of a Palmetto Foxes exy game, the one right before Neil got kidnapped. Ty plopped down on the top of Zane, making Zane grunt, and got comfortable.

  Zane read more about the players on his phone. Seeing that 2 of the foxes, including Andrew Minyard's twin brother, were recovering drug addicts made him a lot more invested in the game.

THE END.

[moonlit-jeno]

love sick

Chapter 8- Jeno

pairing: nct dream ‘00 line + reader

genre/warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of death

words: 2.7k

summary:

Jeno doesn’t know what to say, how to feel. Anger should probably be his top emotion right now. Maybe sadness. But he isn’t really feeling much of anything.

masterlist | prev | next

It affects everyone differently. Donghyuck's whole aura is dimmed down. He laughs less and spends even less time with them, especially when you’re around. And Jeno sees the way it affects you, sees the way your eyes well up with tears when Donghyuck leaves the room as soon as you walk in, when you say something and Donghyuck straight up ignores you.

You blame yourself for what happened. But don’t all of them feel responsible to some extent? If Jeno wasn’t busy arguing with Jaemin, then maybe they would have been there to stop Renjun from going outside. If Donghyuck hadn’t been so busy making tea, then maybe he would have stopped Renjun. Sure, you were the one arguing with Renjun, but who’s to say that made a difference?

He tried explaining that to you one day, tried telling you to stop being so hard on yourself, but you seemed determined to drown in your guilt. 

“You’re really going to tell me that I’m not the reason you and Jaemin were arguing? Donghyuck made that tea for me, Jeno. I kicked Renjun out of my room that day, and you know where he went? To fucking zombie land.”

So yeah, maybe you have a point. but you’re not the one who turned him into a zombie. Renjun should have been more careful, too. Shouldn’t have been walking outside so much, especially not when it was a life or death situation. It pisses Jeno off, but how can he be angry with his dead friend?

And it makes it even harder when he has no one to turn to for comfort. You stopped letting him sleep with you at night, he’s too stubborn to talk to Jaemin, and Donghyuck’s just straight up being an asshole.

He understands that Donghyuck’s hurting and that he’s upset- hell, they all are- but the way that he’s handling it is making it worse. Donghyuck is refusing to talk to any of them now because Jeno and Jaemin shut down his idea of ditching you.

“She’s more trouble than she’s worth.” he argues, not even trying to keep his voice down. “If you would get your heads out of our asses, you would see that she’s got you wrapped around her finger. We need to leave her behind.”

“We’re not doing that, Donghyuck.” Jaemin snaps, absolutely no patience in his voice. “How many people do you think have died? Do you really want to add to that number?”

Donghyuck just grits his jaw, rolling his eyes. “We wouldn’t be killing her. Who knows, maybe she’d find another band of idiots to seduce.”

Jeno's had enough, stepping into the conversation. It seems like the only time that he and Jaemin talk now is when they’re arguing with Donghyuck. It's painful. “Come on man, you know that’s bullshit. She’s as good as dead alone, just like you’re good as dead alone.”

“Oh, so now you’re choosing her over me? You’d prefer I was dead, huh? Less competition then.” Donghyuck’s being so irrational that Jeno has to laugh.

“That’s not- do you even hear yourself? It was an example, Jesus Christ. I'm as good as dead alone, too.”

Jaemin shuts the conversation down. “No one’s dying. We’re sticking together, and that’s that. No one’s being left behind.”

Donghyuck scoffs- he's been doing that a lot lately- and storms out of the room. They both watch him go, exchanging matching looks of exasperation.

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Jeno groans, collapsing into the kitchen chair.

“He’s hurting.” Jaemin sighs, sitting in the other chair.

Jeno looks up at Jaemin, really looks at Jaemin, and notices how worn down he is. His skin doesn’t glow as much as it normally does, and there are deep bags under his eyes that darken his entire aura and seem to make the redness of his eyes stand out more. Jeno’s voice is soft when he says “I think we all are.”

It’s quiet for a moment, both boys holding their breath. Jaemin breaks the silence first. “I miss you.”

Those three words completely break Jeno. Tears spring to his eyes and he barely gets out a “Fuck, me too” before he’s sobbing. 

There’s the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and then Jaemin’s arms are around him, pulling him tight against his chest. It’s a bit awkward, with Jeno sitting and Jaemin in kind of a half squat, but it’s the first time they’ve hugged in what feels like forever and Jeno’s ecstatic. 

They hold each other for what feels like forever, both boys crying steadily. Jaemin’s the first to pull away, laughing through blurry vision.

“My legs are cramping.” He explains, standing up with a wince. Jeno stands as well, pulling him in for another hug.

“I’m sorry.” Jeno mumbles, his head buried in Jaemin’s shoulder. “Not for the leg cramp- although that kinda sucks. I’m sorry for being such an asshole.”

Jaemin’s shoulders shake when he laughs. “Yeah, me too. I feel like we both could’ve, you know.”

“Been less horrible?” Jeno offers, pulling back to wipe at his eyes. His nose feels like it desperately needs to be blown but the moment feels so raw and pure that he’s scared to ruin it.

“Yeah, that.” Jaemin laughs, and then they’re both laughing and crying and clinging onto each other. “Let’s never fight again, that was awful.”

Jeno pats his back. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I seriously thought I was going to go insane.”

Jaemin laughs, finally letting go of Jeno and walking to the other side of the kitchen. He returns with a box of Kleenex. “Me too. Now blow your nose, I can tell you’re suffering.”

He takes the tissues gratefully. “Hyuck was right. We really are soulmates, huh.”

“Hell yeah we are.” Paranoia has the group on the run. They don’t stay in one place for longer than a week, moving further and further away from the city, further from their old homes. Everything is unfamiliar and Jeno hates that he doesn’t recognize a single thing out here. Not that he thinks they made a bad choice. The houses are further apart out here, which means that there’s less of a chance that the infection has reached this far. It also means that it’s harder to find food, but they manage. 

It looks like they chose their house well this time- the pantry is stocked with canned foods and bottles of water, and there are plenty of clean clothes that they stock up on. They run a thorough check on the house, relieved to find it empty.They make quick work of throwing the majority of the food into the car, getting ready to flee if needed.

The only problem with the house is that there are only two beds. There’s a couch but it has no cushions and the steel frame looks painful to lay on. Jeno winces as he thinks about sitting on it, thinking the kitchen chairs might be more comfortable.

“So how are we going to do this?” Jaemin asks, clearly having the same thoughts as Jeno. “There’s four of us, and two beds.” Donghyuck shrugs. “I’ll take the bed in this room,” He motions at Jeno and Jaemin. “You two can take the other one.” “What about y/n? You can’t have the bed to yourself, man.” Jaemin rolls his eyes, fed up with his friends attitude.

“No, it’s fine. I can just sleep on the floor.” You say, waving it off. Jeno and Jaemin stare at you like you're crazy, protesting that it isn’t fair to you. 

“See? Bitches are used to sleeping on the floor.” Donghyuck says. He’s already making his way over to the bed he claimed, flopping down in the middle of it. 

Jeno stares at him. “Donghyuck! What the fuck is wrong with you?” The guy’s been trying his patience for way too long and Jeno feels just about ready to snap. He understands that Hyuck’s angry, but Jesus Christ, he could at least pretend to be a civil person. 

You leave the room and Donghyuck just looks blankly at the other two boys. “What?” “You’re unbelievable.” Jaemin groans, turning around to go after you. Jeno just shakes his head.

“Would it kill you to not be an asshole?” 

“Would it kill you to remember that she killed Renjun?” Donghyuck asks, eyebrows raised, before flopping back onto the mattress. Jeno has a vaguely satisfying thought about breaking Donghyuck’s nose. He leaves the room before it happens. 

He finds Jaemin in the living room, the boy trying to convince you that sleeping on the floor is a bad idea. Which it is.

“Tell you what- I’ll share with Hyuck. You can share with Jaemin. Does that sound better?” Jeno pipes in, eyeing the sad couch with disdain. You shake your head.

“Honestly, it’s fine. Donghyuck might kill you if you try to share a bed with him, anyways. He seems the type to hog the blankets.” You take a seat on the ground. “It’s not even that bad, see?”

Jaemin sighs. “At least take some of our blankets.” You comply, because you’re not a total idiot. 

Jeno brings an armful of blankets and pillows out to the living room, helping you to turn the couch into a makeshift bed. Jaemin had driven for the whole ride this time meaning that he was currently exhausted. He passes out pretty much immediately after lying down.

“Thank you.” You manage a weak smile and Jeno hates that it doesn’t reach your eyes. Your voice is so much more timid, and you can barely look him in the eye. He knows what Donghyuck said had hurt you, but it pains him to see.

“No problem. Are you sure you don’t want an actual bed? Jaemin’s dead asleep and I know for a fact that he won’t care.” He tries again. You shake your head.

“I’m good out here.” Jeno sighs, watching you for a moment before shrugging.

You’re struggling to fit the blanket over one of the corners of the couch and Jeno hesitates before moving to help you. He leans over your body and grabs the sheet, hand right next to yours, and yanks the blanket into place. 

Jeno doesn’t realize how close you are until the movement sends you stumbling backwards a little bit, your back slamming into his chest. You squeak, turning your head to apologize but faltering at the proximity.

Neither of you move, frozen in time as you look at each other. Jeno’s eyes move from your eyes to your lips, then back up, back down. He seems to debate it forever before he finally leans in, closing the gap between you two.

His lips meet your cheek. He blinks his eyes open in surprise, finding your head turned away from him. 

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, stepping away from him. “I can’t do this.” Jeno furrows his eyebrows, watching you sit down on the couch, knees bouncing anxiously. He waits for you to say something else, but you don’t elaborate.

“What’s wrong?” He moves to sit next to you, making sure to leave a decent amount of space. “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, I guess I misread the situation.” You shake your head. “No, you didn’t. I want to, it’s just.” You wring your hands together nervously. “Donghyuck was right.” Jeno immediately starts protesting, but you stop him. “No, just listen. I was leading you all on.” You take a deep breath. “I wasn’t trying to, but I think that losing my family left me with a hole that I was trying to fill with you guys. And I- I didn’t realize it at first, but then I felt awful once I did.”

Your lip trembles as you pause, finally lifting your eyes to meet Jeno’s. “I hooked up with Renjun the day before we left my house.” Jeno’s heart drops to his stomach and he swallows thickly. He really hopes his expression doesn’t give anything away. “And then, like, five minutes later I came back and I heard you and Jaemin arguing about me. That’s kind of what triggered my realization. And then Hyuck found me crying and he tried to hug me to sleep but. It just made me feel worse because I realized how selfish I was being.” It takes Jeno a minute to think of what to say. You just unloaded a lot on him, and he’s having trouble keeping up. “I don’t think it’s selfish-” “No, it is, Jeno. Because I still can’t choose.” You interrupt him, eyes glassy. “I know how awful it is but I can’t bring myself to choose. It’s stupid but I like all of you, and I just- I can’t.” 

Jeno takes your hand and rubs his thumb over your knuckles. What does he say to that- does he tell you to be with all of them? Could he handle not having you to himself? Do you even want that?

“I like all of you. But I can’t be with any of you.” You finish, pulling your hand away from him. “Renjun’s dead, Jeno. And I just- it feels disrespectful, somehow. Donghyuck was also right about me being a distraction. What if someone else ends up dead because of me?”

He doesn’t know what to say, how to feel. Anger should probably be his top emotion right now. Maybe sadness. But he isn’t really feeling much of anything besides concern for you. “You can’t punish yourself for something that isn’t your fault, y/n.”

You smile weakly. “You should get some sleep.”

Jeno takes a moment before he nods, standing up. “If you decide you want a real bed, Hyuck’s sides are ticklish.”

Jaemin’s sitting up against the headboard when Jeno walks in. He’s holding something in his hand and Jeno squints to see what it is.

“Chocolate.” Jaemin grins, holding the bag up. “Found a brand new bag in the drawer. You want some?”

Jeno hasn’t had decent food in what feels like forever and he nearly cries at the taste of chocolate. “Fuck, I missed that.” Jaemin hums in response. “I feel like you needed that, especially after that talk you just had. Sounded painful.” “With y/n? How did you even hear that?” Jeno pops another chocolate past his lips, chewing slowly to savor it. He feels like he should bring you and Donghyuck a piece, but then he decides that that’s an awful idea.

“Dude, you’re joking, right? You weren’t exactly quiet.” Jaemin pauses to unwrap another candy. “Can’t believe she likes all of us.” Jeno shrugs helplessly. “I dunno man. But I do know this: we both need sleep. I’ll worry about everything in the morning.” Jaemin shoves the chocolate back into the drawer. “Solid plan. Not that I expected anything else from my genius best friend.” “Oh? Does the genius best friend get to be the big spoon tonight?” Jaemin’s already prepared for Jeno’s move and the two boys wrestle for a minute before Jeno manages to maneuver the into Prime cuddling position.

When Jeno wakes up the next morning and finds the sofa empty, he panics. He figures you’d run away, or that you’d gotten kidnapped, or that zombies had made their way into the house. It doesn’t even cross his mind that you could be in Donghyuck’s room until Jaemin raises his eyebrows and points it out. “I’m not totally heartless.” Donghyuck calls from the kitchen. Jeno walks into the room to give the boy the most incredulous look he can manage. “What? I heard you guys talking last night and I decided that she was slightly more self aware than I originally thought. Also, that metal couch frame was haunting my dreams.” Jaemin snorts. “Wow, how generous of you.”

“Are you gonna start being less of a dick, now?” Jeno asks, cocking his head to the side. Donghyuck lets out a dramatic sigh. “I guess I could think about it.” Then he breaks into a grin. “Come here.”

He pulls the other two into a hug, cackling when Jeno tries to punch him after he lands a wet kiss on his cheek.