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paralumanleadmehome · 4 years ago

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It’s been quite some time since I’ve last joined a contest and I honestly missed this feeling of trying to figure out what to write, how to write it, and how to deliver it exactly as you need to to impress the judges. It’s been so so long and welp. I’ve grown rusty and this is definitely not proof-read but all the same, thank you to @queenangst and everyone who had made this possible.

You brought me back a feeling I haven’t felt in so long.

This is my entry to queenangst’s BNHA gen contest: Finding Home

(please see under the cut as this has 3.5k words and could be very long)

Finding Home

It started out as a legend – two souls separated at creation, two souls that make up one whole, two halves of one soul completed upon connection.

Two becoming one.

But legends are legends for a reason – mythical, mysterious, only with a hint of a truth.

Soulmarks began appearing even before the dawn of quirks –little symbols that litter the body, one that you could only call your own. One that only you could share to whom you so ever desire. It varies in shapes and colors, some being a butterfly tinged in red and orange, others an ocean wave the shade of green, and to some more, it covers a palm, a thigh, a foot. Unlike its legendary counterpart, however, a soulmark does not lead you to a soulmate. Instead, it leads you to one where you can feel whole.

A soulmark is a symbol of love and friendship given in trust and good faith – one that cannot be taken, one that only be passed on.

A soulmark is a symbol of warmth and everlasting connection – one that is stronger than flesh and blood.

A soulmark is a symbol of home – one that you choose for yourself.

One person can have as many as the stars in the sky and as few as the petals of a clover.

And Izuku? Izuku only has his own, his mother’s, and the black mark of one Bakugo Katsuki.

After all, no one wants to share the mark of a useless, quirkless, little Deku.

And so, however sacred, Kacchan had cut his own connection with Izuku, both of them bearing the ashen remnants of a once golden sun and a viridian shooting star – the pain of which Izuku found more unbearable than the explosions that kissed his skin.

And Izuku no longer believed in soulmates.

Not when the world was so intent on pushing him down and pushing him away, not when no one would stand up for him and with him, not when the only love and care he had ever known came from the woman who had loved him the most.

So Izuku never shared the mark on his wrist with anyone, never the light of the shooting star that brightens up the dark sky, never the stardust that falls on the earth, never the ray of hope he had held even in the darkest of times, keeping it hidden in long sleeves, wristwatches, and bandages. And at all times he keeps covered the blackened sun that rests on his heart, refusing to see the ashes of a friendship no longer alive, refusing to acknowledge the searing pain that would accompany the sight. Instead, as always, he keeps close the mint green lotus that rests on the base of his right ear, his eyes never not seeing it each morning, afternoon, and night – the one and only reminder that he is loved.

He is loved.

And he lets himself be content with that.

The first of many soulmarks that Izuku will treasure came from the man that he had idolized his whole life.

Yagi Toshinori, for all his time as the Symbol of Peace (and more the time he had spent alive), only carries with him four marks, not counting his own. Izuku doesn’t ask when he sees. He doesn’t think it is polite to, especially when most people aren’t interested in bonding with a quirkless child (and although All Might already knew he was quirkless and didn’t deny him this chance to train, the man’s initial denial of his dream still stings). He doesn’t ask about the faded crescent moon that rests on his collarbone (it isn’t nice to ask about the dead, after all), nor about the black spaded horse on his left ankle (he was shocked at first, upon seeing this lost connection, and his heart ached at the thought that even All Might had to bear the pain of losing someone he had once loved so dearly). He doesn’t ask about the violet sigil of a fish on his shoulder blade nor the diamond glasses near his scar. He doesn’t ask about any of these things.

Instead he asks about experiences – what was it like to be a hero of his caliber? Was he ever afraid of anything? Was there ever a time that he was unable to save someone? What was he like as a student? Did Dagobah Beach mean something special to him? Things that the world weren’t privy to – things that he didn’t know were personal.

Things that would’ve only been known if All Might had chosen him as his soulmate.

And All Might did.

One day, at Dagobah Beach, after the world had finally met the man behind All Might, Toshinori Yagi had offered his ocean blue sunflower tucked on the opposite side of where the faded moon resided and had asked Izuku if he had wanted to carry his soulmark.

And Izuku… flinched.

Because to hold another’s soulmark would mean to be aware of them at all times – to feel their warmth despite the distance, to know with one brush of a hand the feelings that lay in their hearts, to give them comfort even in the presence of an absence.

To bear a soulmark is to be eternally connected.

And Izuku had been burned by the loss of it.

And he is scared, afraid, terrified – because to be All Might’s successor is one thing. To be given his quirk and his legacy is a dream come true but to be his soulmate? To be near him? To know him and be known by him in return? It’s terrifying.

And yet… and yet… Izuku takes this fear and lets it be known.

In quiet whispers, jumbled words, and a steady stream of tears.

Because deep down, Izuku longs to be connected.

And it is in the act of letting someone close does he remember what it feels like to be loved.

ii.

The second one, surprisingly, came in the form of a little girl.

A quiet, frightened, injured little girl who had ran away from a monster of a man.

Eri bumped into him during his first patrol with Lemillion and this mess of child with a stature so small and eyes too scared clung to him for dear life – and Izuku’s soul ached.

Izuku took one look at the man with the bird mask, one look at Lemillion, one look at this little girl, and made up his mind.

“Eri,” he whispered, “do you trust me?”

It was a stupid question, he knew, but a soulmark is something to be given in trust – a treasure to be received in good faith.

“You’re good,” Eri answered just as softly, little hands clinging to his costume. “You’re warm.”

Izuku doesn’t know if Eri feels the same pull, the same fierce protectiveness that forces its way into his heart, and he knows that this is more his own desire to keep her safe than any other force telling him that she was a part of his own soul.

Because Eri mattered regardless.

And Eri was worth keeping safe.

So for the first time in a long time, Izuku removes the bandage that hides his own soulmark and he shows it to Eri.

“This will keep you safe for me,” he tells her, “this will let you know I’m here.”

In the background he hears the tense conversation coming to a halt, sees the way the man’s eyes turn to look at Eri, and he knows he doesn’t have time.

“This is a promise.”

And Eri stares at it for little while, hands reaching to the shooting star. “A promise,” she repeats, and with a little nod and hopeful eyes, Izuku places a finger on her arm, just beneath her sleeves, and let their foreheads touch.

The words come to him unbidden, the way words do when you give someone a piece of your soul – a promise to be fulfilled, a wish to be granted, a part of you that will forever be a part of them.

“I will always come for you.”

And he did.

iii.

Not counting his own nor Kacchan’s, Izuku has two soulmarks on his body.

One from his mother, another from All Might.

He didn’t ask for Eri’s and she hadn’t offered in return.

Eri was as afraid of her soulmark as much as she is afraid of her quirk.

Cursed, she calls the silver dove wreathed in yellow petals on her ankle. Cold, she thinks of it. It will still be a long way to go, Izuku assumes, but as long as Eri can feel his warmth, his presence, that would be enough.

The third one, interestingly enough, was in the image of an aquamarine heart, with its curves jagged and cornered, just as a gem so precious and true.

Kouta gave it to him as gift, as a thank you, as something for Izuku to remember him by.

Kouta didn’t ask for Izuku’s own soulmark, didn’t even breathe a word about it. Instead the little boy ran up to him, little arms wrapping him in a hug, and said,

“I’ll always be cheering you on.”

And when Izuku sees the way Kouta’s soulmark shine, he accepted it without a second thought.

And when Kouta pulled away afterwards, face pulled in a frown, Izuku tried to ignore the fear that stabbed his own heart. He wondered if he would make a world record, an ashen mark as soon as he had received it, but Kouta dispelled his fears just as easily.

“That felt weird,” Kouta said. Izuku blinked at him, his mind taking a minute to process, until he caught up. Then he laughed and laughed because he feels exactly what Kouta feels – the disappointment, the confusion, the curiosity… and the underlying overwhelming emotion of it all.

Unbridled joy.

The elation of having someone know you – of being accepted, treasured, remembered.

He also felt the embarrassment that followed as Kouta turned as red as his shoes.

iv.

The soulmark exchange with Shinsou had been quiet.

It happened on the night of their second year when they both stumbled upon each other in the kitchen at the forsaken 2am hour did Shinsou spring up the topic.

“You don’t have that many soulmarks, do you?” the question was genuine, as far as Izuku can tell, and although the boy was rough around the edges, he knew it was due to the fact that Shinsou had so little support in life and was untrusting of all that Izuku had felt a kindred spirit in that regard.

They have observed the people around them, of course, and have noticed that everyone at least had five. A family member, a best friend from childhood, a classmate they never got lost in contact with.

Izuku stole a glance at the back of his right hand, at the blue heart settled at base of his forefinger and thumb and hummed an agreement. “No, I don’t,” he agreed, letting stiff fingers be warmed by his tea. He doesn’t return the question to Shinsou, knowing that it was a touchy subject for the other boy, but he did wonder, “Why do you ask?”

They don’t talk about it much, these colorful marks on their skin. They don’t talk about how a brush of hand over the little symbols can feel as warm as an embrace, how fear isn’t so scary when someone else sends you courage, how silence isn’t deafening when someone knows to listen.

It is in moments like these that they listen.

Izuku listens to Shinsou’s own quiet humming, the way the gears in his mind seem to move, the way he figures out how to phrase the words he wants to say next. And Izuku has been thinking about it – had been for the past few months.

Will his classmates ever want a piece of his soul?

He could tell that Uraraka does. He could tell that Iida would want one, too, but a soulmark is something that’s rarely asked for due to its sacred nature – it is freely given, after all, and never to be taken lightly. And Izuku had never offered. He had wanted to, of course, but he knows how messy his mind can get. He knows how anxious he can be. It’s why he had given his to Eri in a pace that is both hidden and seen, something she had to reach out for so she could feel. Izuku could not yet know what Eri is thinking or feeling, nor will he ever have inkling to unless she so desired, and Izuku is completely fine with that.

After all, a soulmark is a connection of souls – but it didn’t have to be an exchange. What it did mean though is that for one who bears the soul of another is to be aware of them – to be able to feel their warmth and develop an understanding of their soul. It is not to read their minds nor to know everything about them, but it is about the intimacy of knowing someone and being known.

A commitment.

A promise.

Like an artwork waiting to be completed, like a dance you can take to heart, a soulmark is connection that bridges the gap between someone you know and someone you choose forever.

“I don’t get it,” Shinsou finally said, and Izuku turned his eyes to him, the question lost in his tongue. “You have a strong and flashy quirk, you have so many people who love you and would fight the world for you, heck Uraraka and Iida would probably murder someone for you if you ask them, and yet you don’t have their marks and… they don’t have yours. I know I’m not good at this thing but at the very least, people give their marks away as easy as they’re giving candy. And you guys are pretty close, so I don’t get it.”

And the pain of burning that bridge is the same as losing a piece of your soul. Izuku absentmindedly reaches for his heart, the ashen remains of Kacchan’s soulmark embedded on his skin still, and he tries his best to forget.

Izuku looks instead at the clock in the kitchen, noting that it’s only 2:17am, and asks if Shinsou would like to listen to a story.

And they left the kitchen at 5:00am, only to crash in the couch, heart heavy yet full, mind settled and secured, souls at ease, and both boys sharing a mark they never expected to kiss their skin.

The night Izuku had laid bare his soul for someone else to see, when it was him who had reached out first before someone else had offered, when he had done it so willingly and freely, it felt as if something has shifted within him – and in all the remaining years he had spent in UA, he was able to garner a couple more soulmarks for his own. He finally had the pink milky way that was Uraraka’s, the red lighting storm that was Iida’s, and Todoroki’s fiery white snowflake.

And to think that before all of this, before meeting All Might, before knowing these people and being known in return, Izuku was afraid and alone – afraid of the vulnerability that came along with letting people in.

To think that all he had ever thought about when he thought of soulmates were fireworks kissing his skin, long fingers bruising his arms, and taunts and jeers haunting his every waking moment – but now he is surrounded by love and warmth. Now when he thinks of soulmates, he thinks of mochi in the common kitchen, tea in hand; he thinks of morning jogs and healthy breakfast; he thinks of cold soba and cats; he thinks of unicorns and sprinkles and little kids and coloring books; he thinks of training sessions and laughter and peace.

Now when Izuku thinks of soulmates, he thinks of home.

And speaking of home, he can’t wait to get back to their apartment and give his mom the biggest of hugs. They had always called even when he was away and even when they would consistently send little taps through their soulmark, nothing still beats the warmth of a real embrace – and this is what Izuku fixes his mind on as he cleans out his dorm room, packing away every picture frame, books, notebooks, clothes, and figurines. Graduation is in a few days and after that, their debut to hero society. None of them would have enough time to clear out by then.

Izuku packs away the memories, just as he did each item that reminds him of it, and keeps them close in his heart. He packs away the ten million headband, the plushies from the cultural festival, the cards he had received from Eri and Kouta, and he tries his best not to feel emotional. He didn’t want to flood the dorms one last time, after all, but he did think it would be nice to have Aizawa-sensei scold him for being a problem child through and through but ultimately, it was the knock at his door that helps him succeed.

A knock, quiet and soft, and he opens the door to find Kacchan standing at the other side.

Their relationship had improved over the years.

Kacchan is… less angry now, more settled. He’s still fiery and explosive but he doesn’t lash out anymore. Kirishima, Kaminari, the Bakusquad had been good to him and for him and Izuku had never been gladder about it. He had long stopped dreaming of the day that their relationship would be fixed – he and Kacchan had grown up, grown apart, and even when they drift back together, he is well aware that it would never be the same way again.

He doesn’t ask for it to.

He loves Kacchan, yes, with all his heart, but Izuku now knows that love does not have to be reciprocated for it to be real – but to still be loved in return is a precious treasure he keeps close.

“Hey, Kacchan, do you need something?”

And Kacchan looks at him, face pensive, mouth opening and closing, thinking and grasping and failing to think of the words he wants to say, and something in Izuku feels warm. After some time, the other boy settles with, “Are you busy?”

And if it was at any other time before, Izuku would’ve dropped everything that he had been doing and say no, he wasn’t busy, of course he had the time – but Izuku’s eyes sway to soulmarks on his arm and he steals a look at the digital clock by his table.

“I have thirty minutes,” was what Izuku told him. “I promised Todoroki we’d drop by the store to get his favorite soba since they’re not available near his house. I have time tomorrow morning thought if that works for you. I can cancel the morning jog with Iida if – “

“Thirty minutes is fine,” Kacchan answered back, cutting his rumbling off. It wasn’t harsh or angry. Just… very Kacchan-ish.

“Okay. Do you waant to step in? it’s a bit messy though, I still haven’t finished packing.”

And when Izuku heard the small tsk as he moved aside for Kacchan to pass through, he knew that the other boy won’t mind his mess. He felt a little grateful at that, to not be judged within the confines of his small room. They were silent for a few more second but it wasn’t the kind of silence that would make him uncomfortable. It was companionable, to say the least, and Izuku began picking up the pieces he had left before Kacchan had knocked and continued his packing. In another minute, Kacchan was helping him.

“Are you bringing the bookshelf home?”

“Nope, Aizawa-sensei said I could leave it here. Are you taking yours?”

“Thinking about it. Mine’s too small and I don’t want to waste money on something I can recycle. Do you have bubble wrap for the merch?”

“In the third drawer by the study table. I have newspapers too if that’s better.”

“Oh, Kacchan, that one goes in the other box.”

“Why? What’s the difference?”

“All my signed books are in one place.”

“Just how many posters do you fucking have?”

“Oh, come on, don’t pretend you don’t have just as many.”

“I’m not a hero-worshipping nerd like you, dumbass.”

“Says the guy who zonks out at 8pm.”

“Fuck you, asshole!”

“Kacchan, that’s limited edition!”

“I’m sorry.”

“…”

“For everything.”

“…”

“It was pretty messed up, the things I did, and I know sorry won’t fix this.”

“Can you pass me the tape, Kacchan?”

“…”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to forgive me.”

“Please put this box by the bed.”

“Okay.”

“…”

“You’re right, I don’t have to forgive you.”

“…”

“But I already did.”

“Deku…”

“It won’t fix what’s broken and it won’t stop the sting from the soulmark but…”

“…”

“We’re better now, aren’t we?”

“…”

“Kacchan, we’re better now.”

“You missed the night light.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“…”

“And it’s only going to get better, right?”

“…”

“Of course.”

“You’re still a sappy piece of shit.”

“Well, I’m not the one who’s crying, am I?”

“Fuck you.”

“Whatever you say, Kacchan.”

#queenangst gen contest #shanwrites #bnha #my hero #soulmate au #soulmarks #you don't need romance to call it love

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phantoms-lair · 5 years ago

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The Ghost Town Job Snippet 4

(Not much Leverage Crew in this. Also I planned for this to take place right before Kindred Spirits, before I remembered Lancer bringing up Vlad’s becoming mayor in part one. So for the sake of this fic, Kindred spirits happened after Eye for an Eye)

"So," Valerie’s voice was no less threatening than usual. "If you knew Vlad was scum the whole time, why didn't you tell anyone?"

Phantom looked at her in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? I think I've made it pretty clear since before he landed in Amity Park I hated him."

"Yeah, and most ghosts hate the living. Why not share the details you obviously had?" Valerie folded her arms at him.

"First off, that's not true. Second, I didn't know about that until we found her today, Third..." Phantom trailed off and looked away. For a moment Valerie though he wasn't going to finish. "...My mom."

"Nice try. Ghosts don't have Moms." Valerie charged her weapons in threat.

But Phantom looked more unimpressed than threatened. "You do realize I used to be a normal human, right?"

It felt like a punch in the gut, because no she very much did not. It was easy to fall into the thought pattern of ghosts being these malevolent alien beings she'd somehow forgotten they were people that had died. "What does you Mom have to do with anything?" she hoped she didn't sound as shaken as she felt.

"Vlad's obsessed with her. He currently thinks he can slime his way into her heart through his money and good image. If he loses that-" Phantom seemed to shrink in on himself. "He might go for being more direct, like not letting her have a say."

Oh. Oh &$*) Valerie switched her weapons off and flopped down. This was too much in way too short a time. Her mentor she'd been trying to make proud was an amoral madman creating half-ghost clones in the basement of his manor, Phantom was a teen like her who had died, and was trying to protect his mom. And this wasn't even starting on the thief who'd broken into Vlad's house. "Anything else You want to tell me to shatter my world."

“'Want' is a strong word." Phantom grumbled.

Valerie groaned. "What is it?"

Phantom looked like he really didn't want to continue. "The reason he's trying to create a half ghost kid is, okay, you need to promise you're not going to do something stupid." He started pacing midair. "What am I saying, of course you're going to do something stupid. You've been manipulated and lied to and of course you want to hurt him, I want to hurt him."

"Phantom-"

"But when you find out you can, you'll go after him and he's in public and be exposed, and then he won't have any reason to hold back."

"Phantom-"

"He's gonna kill Dad. It's easy enough to stop his covert plans, but if he goes brute force full power I can't stop him, I-"

"Danny!" She didn't like using his first name, not when he shared it with someone she actually liked, but she hoped it would be enough to snap him out of the spiral he was heading into. Sure enough, he head snapped up and his eyes looked, for lack of a better word, haunted. "I don't just hunt for revenge, I do it to protect people. No matter how much I want his head on a pike, I won't put someone else in danger. Including you family." The thought that he had one still made her stomach twist, but she had to get past it.

He took a deep breath (why did he need to breath???) and let it out slowly. "Vlad's half ghost."

That made no sense, which actually helped her keep what little calm she had left. "You want to break that down for me?"

"There was an accident in college and- actually better example. Remember that Ghost flu thing? Where everyone seemed to be getting random ghost powers?” “I remember,” Valerie said dryly. She almost destroyed so much of her things through accidental ecto-blasts. At least it gave her practice for controlling the cube lasers in her upgraded suit.

“Like that, but more powers and permanent. And he’s got 20 years to get those powers under his control. In addition he has alliances with a lot of ghosts like Skulker, so minions too."

"So all this is trying to create someone like him?” It didn’t excuse what she saw, the failed clones, the dissections, but it was at least understandable.”

"Not just anyone, he's trying to recreate me. My mother's child who would share something with him, something one no else would. He's trying to recreate me as their child."

Valerie suddenly understood why Phantom had thrown up when the got out of the house, she could feel her stomach twisting. "Her human DNA?" God she hoped the answer wasn't what she thought.

"Probably mine too."

"Fuck." Because what else was there to say. “We have to save her.”

“I know.” There had been such a temptation to just grab her and get out, but he’d overheard the same conversation between the intruder and whoever she was talking to. The girl wasn’t stable yet and removing her from the pod would kill her. “Maybe we should help the lady who broke into Vlad’s.”

Valerie gave him a look. “You want us to work with a random thief?”

“One, she is a very good thief to get through all of Vlad’s defense. Two, she wanted to save the girl as much as we did, and was stopped for the same reason. Three," Danny threw his arms up. "What could we do next? She's half human. She's going to need food, clothes, a safe place to sleep at night. I can't supply any of that for her. If thief lady is an adult who'd care for her, she can give her a much better life than I could." "What about your family? Wouldn't they be happy to have a part of you that's still alive?" Phantom winced and Valerie realized how cruel a statement that was. But before she could apologize (no matter how much is galled her) Phantom spoke first. "I want to believe that. I want to so badly. But I don't know. Mom and Dad...they don't like ghosts. They think we're all monsters. And while I want to think they could look past the half ghost thing and see her as a person I'm not sure." There was a lot to unpack there, and for the most part Valerie didn't care to. Too many paradigm shifts in one day, she wasn't going to start feeling sympathy for the ghost who ruined her life. "I miss this morning, when my only concern was whether I could blast you out of the sky."

Phantom snorted. "And I miss thinking you were so low on the danger scale you needed Kwan to beat people up for you. Disabused me of that real fast."

Valerie sat up, studying the ghost who hadn't seemed to think he'd said anything unusual. But when he had described was when she'd been one of the popular kids, a status she lost before becoming the Huntress. A time in her life Phantom had no reason to know anything about. Unless... "Did we know each other? Before you died?"

Phantom winced, though whether it was from the mention of his death or the detail of his former life he'd accidentally brought up she couldn't say. "I wouldn't say we knew each other. Like I knew of you 'cause you were one of the A-list kids, but it's not like we ever spoke before the accident."

He'd attended Casper High before dying in an accident. His parents were anti-ghost. And Valerie realized she filing away clues in her mind. Somewhere in this horrible day she'd discovered Phantom had been a person like her. And if she needed a diversion to keep her from lighting up the mayor, uncovering the mystery of who Phantom has been was a hell of a distraction.

#Leverage #Danny Phantom #The Ghost Town Job #Ghost Writing

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

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Anybody want some Carion? No? Just me? Okay. XDD This is Orion and Carewyn’s first meeting, back in Orion’s fourth year and Carewyn’s third! (In case you were wondering why Orion doesn’t have his facial hair and why Carey-Bear’s ponytail is so much shorter.)

Newly-15-year-old Quidditch prodigy Orion Amari was named the Slytherin team’s Captain that year, beating out his yearmate, friend, and likely future Wigtown Wanderer Skye Parkin largely because of his infinitely more mediating, leadership-centric attitude. After hearing that one of Slytherin’s Chasers had gotten injured, abruptly leaving the team short a player right before the upcoming match against Hufflepuff, Carewyn -- having gotten into Quidditch friendlies earlier that year thanks to Penny and having trained with Skye -- came to “court” Orion for a try-out. For a prompt, I was asked what Carewyn and Orion’s initial first impressions were of each other, and I answered thusly --

Carewyn about Orion: ‘So that’s the Slytherin Quidditch Captain? …How is he balancing on his broom like that??’

Orion about Carewyn: ‘Short and round, a Snidget’s build – ginger ponytail, like the Weasley boy’s – tight grip on her broom, slightly tense…a Seeker, perhaps? …No. No, those are a Chaser’s eyes.’

-- so that’s basically what’s going on in Carewyn and Orion’s heads right now in this drawing...not even the tiniest shred of romantic attraction from either party yet.

When Orion asked Carewyn to balance on her broom for him, it actually took her quite a while to get the hang of it. She got very upset and internally berated herself, hating that she looked incompetent, but she was so determined to prove herself that she bit back the small tears of frustration forming in her eyes and stayed on her broom until she finally managed it. Orion then had Carewyn meet him a few more times, balancing on their brooms together each time, and although Carewyn was a little frustrated that Orion kept dodging the issue at hand -- namely, the empty Chaser position -- she could sense that he was testing her, in his own way. And so, after that first meeting, she stopped asking when she could have a tryout and decided to prove herself by getting to know Orion better through their meetings when they would talk and “find their center” (sometimes with random distractions thrown in for spice, like a stray swarm of pixies). At one meeting in particular, Orion asked Carewyn what was helping her balance. The third year Slytherin admitted that she was singing a song in her head, which is something Carewyn often does when she’s working on something, even when she’s older. Orion told her to sing the song aloud so he could hear it, and Carewyn through a light flush closed her eyes and started to sing Carly Simon’s “Anticipation” while they “found balance” together. The Slytherin Quidditch Captain enjoyed it enough that he asked Carewyn to sing whatever song drifted through her head while they were training from that point on, closing his eyes and meditating to the sound of her voice.

Orion could tell that Carewyn Cromwell was a little rough around the edges (still being just 13 and only having dealt with one Cursed Vault at that point, Carey-Bear hadn’t fully gained the trademark cool confidence and composure that she expresses from year 4 onward) -- but besides her untrained talent and her pleasant voice, he immediately noted the younger girl’s intense fire, which, when put toward a goal, could be a valuable asset. And as he got to know her better through their meetings, Orion also noticed that Carewyn quickly caught onto his thought process and actively tried to speak on his terms, something very indicative of strong empathy. It was a trait Orion hadn’t encountered much in anyone else before, certainly not to that extent, and when he followed up with his friends McNully and Skye, he found that sensitivity toward other people’s feelings and attitudes was something they’d seen in Carewyn as well. McNully even guessed that it was the reason why Carewyn so wanted to try out for the Slytherin team, since she’d expressed the feeling that they probably were really shaken about having lost their Chaser right before the match and that she’d like to help them if she could. Finally, on the day Slytherin’s tryouts had been scheduled, Carewyn met Orion at the Quidditch pitch already balancing on her broom -- and upon her merely greeting him with a request to practice with him and the team, rather than directly asking for a tryout, Orion’s mouth spread into a smile and he told her to go fetch some robes from the tent. When she went to go borrow some spare robes, however, she instead found a set of Slytherin-official robes set aside just for her. Turns out Orion didn’t need a tryout -- he’d already selected her as Slytherin’s new Chaser.

In the match against Hufflepuff that year, Orion would go on to show enough trust in Carewyn to let her decide how best to approach the match -- and Carewyn returned that trust by pulling out Orion’s own Inspired Broom-Surfing technique at a critical point during the match. The two Slytherins’ minds had truly met, and when Carewyn ended up leaving the Slytherin team in response to both Skye’s unfounded rumors against Erika Rath and the return of Slytherin’s original Chaser, Orion never completely got over her departure, as much as he understood her reasoning. It was rare that Orion felt like he’d found a kindred spirit as it was, and not having Carewyn as part of his Quidditch family when he saw how much talent she expressed in every friendly she participated in and admired how deeply she cared for others was a great disappointment to him.

Over the years, Orion would every-so-often extend an invitation to Carewn to return to his team, even though her extreme focus on the Cursed Vaults and helping her brother Jacob hindered her from ever accepting. It was only in the Quidditch Cup Final at the very end of Orion’s last year at school that he and Carewyn were able to fly side-by-side on the Slytherin team again -- a match after which Orion finally came to grips with how much his image of Carewyn had changed over the years, from a Snidget-shaped girl with a lot of fire and empathy, as well as a calming singing voice, to a beautiful, confident young woman with more fire than a Fire Crab, a voice like a Phoenix’s...and the soul of an Abraxan, same as his.

#my art #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #hphm #hogwarts mystery #murphy mcnully #skye parkin #art #charlie weasley #jacob cromwell #I see orion as the eldest of the quidditch kids being born in november #hence why he's a 15-year-old fourth year <3 #it was fun to try to draw these two as younger particularly since in the game we really don't get a good sense for how old orion is #thanks to his facial hair #carey's ponytail here really does make her look even more like charlie's twin!! <33

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missfangirll · 4 years ago

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Ad astra per aspera

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Fandom: Guardian Relationship: Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Da Qing/Ye Zun Tags: Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-it, Getting Together Words: 3001 Summary: The revelations keep coming.

Read on AO3

- - -

Da Qing heaved a long-suffering sigh as he bent to pick up his crumpled t-shirt from the floor, throwing a glance at Ye Zun from the corner of his eye. The other was busy sorting the laundry into three large piles and Da Qing couldn’t quite suppress an eye-roll at the sight. Ye Zun had, naturally, never used a washing machine before he moved in, but had spent hours reading the manuals online - because Da Qing didn’t have them anymore, who keeps stuff like this anyway, Ye Zun? - and was now very confident about the correct way to use it, which included the perfect amount of detergent and the fact that certain colours weren’t allowed in the same wash. Da Qing had barely managed to bite back a comment on how that was exactly how his brother dealt with things he didn’t understand, but secretly he was a tiny bit impressed how fast Ye Zun adapted. Still, his obsession with cleaning was… something.

Sighing, he threw the t-shirt onto one of the piles, making Ye Zun startle, then furrow his brow. Indignantly, he grabbed the offending item with two fingers and placed it onto another pile, all the while staring at the cat. Grinning, Da Qing stuck out his tongue, sauntering off to the kitchen to make tea.

Living with Ye Zun had proven to be… interesting, to say the least. Zhao Yunlan and Da Qing were kindred spirits in many things, so naturally they agreed on their take on cleaning, too. Which meant that, before Shen Wei’s merciless cleaning sprees, they had been very happy in their own mess, but now he discovered Ye Zun had more in common with his brother than he admitted. He had Shen Wei’s penchant for a spotless environment, liked the apartment to be neat and tidy, but combined this with an obsessive streak his brother didn’t have (or didn’t show, at least). Ye Zun had a manic aura around him in almost everything he did, and Da Qing teased him relentlessly for it, even though he was secretly glad to have someone clean the fridge and throw out spoiled food when he forgot to do it again.

Additionally, he was a surprisingly good cook, moving about the small apartment kitchen with a graceful ease that always reminded Da Qing of his deadly precision on a battlefield. He couldn’t for the life of him operate a microwave or an electric rice cooker, but showed astounding intuition when it came to actual cooking. (Da Qing had tried to wheedle out of him where he had learned it, but he had stayed stubbornly silent and ignored the cat until he gave up.)

Grinning to himself, Da Qing turned on the kettle, then portioned the tea into the pot, when he felt someone flick the back of his head hard. Startled, he whirled around to complain when he saw the other’s eyes. Sparkling with mischief, they looked even more radiant than usual, and suddenly he had to swallow. Ye Zun smirked, then forced his face into a stern frown, glaring at the cat. His eyes still sparkling, he raised the hand he had been holding behind his back, shoving the object in it into Da Qing’s face. Spluttering, he took a step back, only to see the dirty sock fall down between them. Ye Zun cackled. “That’s for leaving them everywhere,” he said with a wide grin, then turned around to leave for his laundry pile. Da Qing pounced. When he hit the other’s back and threw his arms around his shoulders, Ye Zun stumbled, his arms flailing. After two staggering steps, they both toppled headfirst into the laundry, their fall somewhat cushioned by the clothes.

Laughing, Da Qing pressed his whole weight to the other’s back, trying to immobilise his arms as well, while Ye Zun sputtered indignantly and tried to shake him off. They rolled down from the pile, and even though Ye Zun had lost his dark energy, he still was agile and strong, and thus managed to pin the cat effectively under him, grinning down with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes.

Before he could say anything, however, they were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Startled, they looked at each other, then at the door, then hastily scrambled away from each other to get to their feet and to the door. Upon opening it, a middle-aged woman glared at them, and before they could even manage a greeting, started yelling. “I don’t know what exactly you are doing,” she spat, the emphasis on the last word making it sound suggestive, “but you have to stop doing it on the floor.” She looked knowingly at their dishevelled state and huffed, but before she could continue, Ye Zun interrupted her. “We are not,” he had to clear his throat, “not what you… seem to think.” Sensing that he started to flounder, Da Qing chimed in. “We are roommates,” he clarified, “and we just moved in, so we apologise for disturbing you. It won’t happen again.” He bowed slightly, nudging Ye Zun to do the same. Straightening up again, Da Qing noticed that the woman’s gaze had changed somewhat. “Roommates,” she said slowly and gave Ye Zun a strange look, who nodded hastily, glancing at Da Qing. Before either of them could add anything, the woman nodded to herself, then bowed quickly and left. Da Qing turned to look at Ye Zun, who looked equally confused. Shrugging, he took a step back and closed the door.

Da Qing had almost forgotten the whole incident, until two days later he stepped out of the apartment and stumbled over something in front of the door, barely able to prevent a fall. Cursing loudly, he turned to look at what had caused his almost-accident, when he stilled. On the doormat, there was a huge pile of neatly wrapped gifts in different sizes, some flowers, stuffed teddy bears and chocolates, all of it in various shades of pink. On closer look, he noticed a name tag on one of the larger presents: To the pretty cat-owner with the silver hair. He snorted, first indignantly at the thought of Ye Zun as his owner, then with the mental image of his roommate’s middle-aged fanclub. Giggling, he scooped up the presents and stepped back into the apartment where he dumped them unceremoniously over an unsuspecting Ye Zun who sat on the couch. “What the…?”, he began, but Da Qing just snorted, “From your fanclub,” and turned around to leave for the SID.

After this, they kept finding little gifts and trinkets on their doorstep on a weekly basis, never signed, but always addressed to Ye Zun in various degrees of admiration. Ye Zun never acknowledged them, just took the chocolate to the SID and threw the rest away without a second glance, but after the third week Da Qing began to feel irked. He stubbornly avoided thinking about that fact (and what it meant) and kept teasing Ye Zun with his fanclub, but somehow he felt more uneasy the more gifts they found.

He didn’t want to investigate these feelings further, he decided when he found yet another teddy bear on the threshold, but couldn’t bring himself to tease Ye Zun when he silently handed him the gift. However, Ye Zun didn’t even look at it, but kept his eyes on Da Qing, slightly raising one of his dark eyebrows. “What?” he asked, but the cat just shrugged. Then he added, “Why don’t you keep them?” Ye Zun’s eyebrow climbed even higher. “Why would I?” he asked, sounding incredulous, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I don’t know,” Da Qing tried to explain, “they are gifts from someone who obviously wants to meet you. And it’s probably the neighbor’s daughters who keep sending them, not their mother, so why….” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. “Why don’t I want to meet someone who apparently has no boundaries and likes me because of my looks?” He blinked at Da Qing, who just shrugged again. “Are you serious? I don’t even like them. I probably would keep the gifts if they came from someone I like, I don’t know, you or my brother, but not these creepy women.” He shook his head and got up to discard the teddy bear, not noticing Da Qing’s frozen face. The cat just stared after him open-mouthed.

Someone I like.

Someone like you.

Oh. - - - - - - - -

Thinking back on his previous life in the Rebel camp, Ye Zun found that he’d had some vastly different ideas about living with other people. For once, he had never lived with someone he trusted, except from his brother of course, and found that it improved his life significantly.

Da Qing was, objectively, a lousy roommate: He was undeniably messy, loud, and demanding, also left his dirty laundry everywhere and couldn’t be bothered to clean after himself, at least not without Ye Zun nagging him about it.

Objectively, it should have been a nightmare. It was anything but.

Yes, they had regular fights about dishes and laundry, some of them ending with Ye Zun shouting and throwing things at Da Qing (which had made one neighbor so angry that she had to be bribed with some home-made cupcakes, which in turn just added to Ye Zun’s gift pile the next morning), but he secretly enjoyed their banter. Da Qing gave as good as he got, but he never aimed to hurt, keeping the teasing light and in turn, Ye Zun kept nagging about the state of the apartment and nothing else.

They had reached a mutual understanding of things the other didn’t want to talk about, and kept to these boundaries. Da Qing never mentioned Ye Zun’s powers, while the other avoided the fact that Da Qing sometimes felt abandoned by his master, even though he only admitted to this while drunk. They trusted each other, entrusted each other with their weaknesses and vulnerabilities, and even though he wanted to strangle the cat twice a day, he felt himself get closer, open up to him. It was exciting and frightening at the same time, to let another so close, but he felt safe with Da Qing, safer than he had ever before in his life.

Their truce held until one night of drinking.

It had started rather unremarkable, with Da Qing immersed in the game on the screen and Ye Zun playing on his phone, but then Ye Zun had made a snide comment on Da Qing‘s favored team, which had made the cat first bristle and then declare that when his team lost, he would never drink anything again, but in case of a win Ye Zun had to play a drinking game with him. Ye Zun had known this was a bad idea, but the score was 0:3 and so he had agreed to this proposal. They had won 4:3, of course, and Da Qing had been very smug about this as he handed Ye Zun a glass with a dubious mixed drink.

Some refills and embarrassing stories later Ye Zun felt pleasantly fuzzy and ready for bed, but Da Qing was really out of it. He had been a few glasses ahead when they started and now looked worse for wear. With a slight smile, he tucked the grumbling cat in on the couch and went for the bathroom. He couldn't be bothered to look for his pyjamas, and returned to the bed in just a t-shirt and briefs.

He staggered to a halt in front of the bed, his fuzzy brain too slow to process the sight.

Normally, Da Qing slept in cat form on whatever surface he deemed worthy of his furry butt, and they even had shared the bed before, but Da Qing had never been in human form for it. Now, however, the cat wasn't a cat, and lay sprawled on the bed, face down, arms and legs spread, still almost fully clothed.

Ye Zun‘s treacherous heart skipped a beat. Stomping down on the strange feeling that had begun spreading in his stomach, he contemplated his options. The couch was not that comfortable: Since Zhao Yunlan had moved his giant leather monster to the new house, he and Da Qing had bought a new one, which was great to spend a relaxing evening, but not wide enough to sleep comfortably on. So, the bed… He looked at the other, taking in the almost unnervingly still form. Da Qing had somehow lost his shoes, but still wore his pants and a t-shirt, his hair in a messy halo on the pillow. He had his head slightly turned, so Ye Zun could see his dark lashes fanning his cheek, his mouth slack with sleep. He swallowed hard, looking back to the sofa. If he slept on it, he’d most likely wake up with a sore neck, not to mention his back would kill him in the morning. Plus, they had shared the bed in the past, he tried to convince himself. No big deal.

Exhaling with a deep sigh, he bent down. “Move over,” he muttered, and as Da Qing didn't move, he shoved at his shoulders to get the covers from under him. Draping it over the cat, he crept in as well, facing the room.

He felt Da Qing’s warm breath on his neck, followed the soothing rhythm and was almost asleep himself, when the cat stirred. In a clumsy motion, he put an arm over Ye Zun’s waist and drew him closer, nestling his face in the other’s neck. Wide awake, Ye Zun didn't dare to breathe. His heart fluttered like a hummingbird in his chest, he felt the heat spread from his neck over his whole body, but at the same time his stomach tightened in… in what, panic, shock, distaste? He didn't know, but it made it hard to think straight. Frozen he lay there, unable to breathe or move, his whole body thrumming in sync with his heartbeat, every point of contact burning his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, but at some point he had, because he woke to someone poking his shoulder. Blinking slowly, he took in the sight before him, his brain not fully operative. They had gravitated towards each other in the night, it seemed, because he now had Da Qing’s hand in his, clutching it to his chest, while their noses almost touched. As realisation sunk in, he recoiled with a start, letting go of the other’s hand as if he had burned himself, eyes wide in panic. Da Qing just grinned at him. “Good morning,” he said, showing his teeth in a wide yawn. Without a response, Ye Zun scrambled out of bed and fled to the bathroom, his heart pounding in his ears.

A knock on the door startled him. He had been staring unseeing at his image in the mirror, when he heard a soft question from outside. “Are you alright?” He inhaled shakily. Not trusting his voice, he just hummed, hoping the other would take it as confirmation and leave. But of course, his obnoxious roommate wouldn’t budge.

“I made you coffee,” he heard, no trace of the teasing tone he had come to expect. Da Qing sounded soft, gentle, almost unsure, and somehow that made his stomach tighten even more.

Closing his eyes, he turned on the faucet to splash his face with cold water, hoping that would help clear his head and maybe also make the cat leave. Unfortunately, neither of these happened, and with a sigh, he turned to open the door.

Da Qing stood in front of it, two mugs in hand, wordlessly offering one to him. Careful not to touch the other’s fingers, he took it and made his way to the couch, not able to hold his gaze. Hesitating for a second, Da Qing turned and made his way over to the couch as well, sitting on the other end. Ye Zun felt his eyes on him when he asked again, “Are you alright?”, but couldn’t meet his gaze, stubbornly staring into his mug. “Hm,” he replied vaguely, trying to find something to say that would make the situation less awkward.

Da Qing sighed. “Are we going to talk about it?” Ye Zun blinked at him. “Talk?”, he managed to press out. The other sighed again. “Look,” he began, and Ye Zun’s heart stuttered and came to a stop. “I don’t know what you think this means,” Da Qing continued, motioning to the bed, “but as far as I’m concerned, it can mean anything, or nothing at all.” He fixed Ye Zun with a look the other couldn’t quite place. There was hope in it, but also defiance, stubbornness, and vulnerability. Ye Zun swallowed. “What.. What does what mean?”, he managed eventually, sounding hoarse. Da Qing closed his eyes in frustration, then bit out, “What do you want, Ye Zun?” Averting his eyes, he couldn’t find an answer to this. Sleeping next to the cat had been equal parts exhilarating and terrifying, he had felt held and confined at the same time, the other’s embrace suffocating, but also safe, his touch burning, but also soothing. It had been the best and worst experience of his life, and he still could feel the other’s touch, his warm breath, and he wanted. But at the same time, he was so afraid of it, of the burning closeness of another’s soul. He didn’t know how to voice any of this, if he even wanted to, and so stayed silent. Da Qing let out a low groan, then forcefully placed the mug on the coffee table. “Okay,” he said with finality, “then it means nothing.” With a look at Ye Zun, who had slumped into the couch, he stood up, changing into cat form, and leaped out of the open window. Ye Zun drew in a shaky breath, his eyes burning, his stomach in a tight knot.

Previous Chapter - - - - - -

Some notes: Maybe you noticed, but I changed the chapter titles. It was supposed to be six chapters, corresponding to the phases of grief: shock, anger, guilt, grief, and hope, chapter 6 being love.. I thought that made sense, since the title is "Through hardship to the stars", so he would have to overcome hardships. But Ye Zun decided he was done grieving in the second chapter and wanted to enjoy life 😁 (Or I discovered I write better fluff than angst, ehem 😁), so the whole thing changed its course a bit... I still keep the general plot idea (did someone mention the Regent?), but it's going to be lighter and happier, I suppose... (Can't promise anything tho, Ye Zun is a moody bitch 😁😁) Until I can come up with some good names, the chapters won't have individual titles. If you want to suggest some, feel free 😁😁

#镇魂 guardian #guardian #zhèn hún #da qing #ye zun #dazun #my writing #guardian fanfic #ad astra per aspera

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fatrainbowmermaidunicorn · 5 years ago

Text

Kindred Spirit (Taehyung X You) (ONESHOT)

A/N: The full version of the Taehyung fanfic, but I changed it a little from the preview I posted. Hope its okay 😘 also, im not sure whats an "er of their marriage" means exactly? But i take it their life after marriage? Ill make an epilogue of that soon! 😘

"Ive been an idol for years Y/N and you have never once come to see me perform? Dont you know people would die for all the free passes and tickets I left for you?!" Her bestfriend grumbles, hands crossed over his chest, his pout over an inch long.

Y/N laughs.

"Thats why I said you should give it to someone else thats actually have time to go watch you,"

"But you are my best friend. BESTFRIEND Y/N. How is is possible you never once saw me perform? And you dont even know any of my bandmates? How is that possible??" Yoongi keeps on grumbling in disbelief.

"Well.. Min Yoongi. I can give you an answer. Because I'm busy with real life okay. You know my appa wants me to take over soon. You know I dont do it on purpose right?" Y/N pouts, hoping if shes cute enough, or looks guilty enough Yoongi would actually forgive her.

"Nope. Your puppy face wont cut it this time,"

Damn.

"You are coming. And if I dont see you cheering your ass off tomorrow night, front row, our friendship is over. Over I say!"

And thats is why Y/N is running and pushing through the excited crowd of boys and girls in the stadium, trying to find her section. She made it! She almost didnt, but almost didnt matter. Shes here now. All dressed in her work clothes, with what is supposed to be called an Army Bomb in her hand, something that her secretary shoved in her bag earlier, saying its a must have for an Army. She dont even know what an Army is!

As the show starts, Y/N jumps to the music, smiling proudly everytime Yoongi make an appearance. She has heard him rapped before, but she never seen him this charismatic. Its as if the man on stage is not even the dorky Yoongi she has known for years. And his band members... wow. All so talented, all so good looking.

As the concert ended, Y/N makes her way backstage, flashing the pass Yoongi gave her and make her way through series of dressing room, trying to find the one where the boys are in.

"Must be this one," she followed the door that has the most sound and lights to find the boys chatting, congratulating each other. "Uh, Yoongi?" Y/N calls out softly, feeling awkward. Is she even supposed to be here?

"Oh you are here. God, cant believe you actually made it!" Yoongi rushed over and gave her a tight hug. "Wait, I'll introduce you to the others, but I need to change my pants first. Wait here, dont move!" Before she could say anything, Yoongi has already ran off.

"Uh.. okay. Ill stay here I guess," she moved herself timidly to a corner and stands awkwardly, hoping no one would notice her. But wishes dont always come true.

"Hey, uh..." a guy, a very handsome guy, who Y/N recognizes as one of Yoongi's band members, but cant be sure who, approached her.

"Uh.. yes? A-am I not supposed to be here? Im sorry. Im just waiting for Y-"

"Oh, no. I just want to ask you. Wheres the bathroom?"

"Huh?" Y/N looks at the guy curiously. Is he for real? He had a three day back to back concert here and today is the third day. And he doesnt know where the bathroom is? And he is asking... her? Y/N laughs before answering. So weird.

"Uh.. I-"

Smack.

"You know very well where the bathroom is you idiot. What are you talking about?" Yoongi who just came back smacked the guy's head.

"Ouchhh, hyunggg," he pouted, rubbing his head.

"Serves you right. Thats the worse and most cringy pick up line ever!"

"Hyunggggg, shut upppp," the guy eyed Y/N shyly and glares at his hyung and turn his attention back on her. "S-sorry. I just wanted to talk to you but I dont want to scare you off," he grins sheepishly.

"Oh, its okay. Im not a stalker. I'm here because Yoongs invited me. I'm Y/N," she hands out her hand for a handshake. "And no, I dont know where the bathroom is," she giggles.

Yoongi rolls his eye and smacks his forehead at the lame attempt of flirting the younger man is doing.

"Hi Y/N. I'm Taehyung," he grips her hand and shakes it. "Kim Taehyung. And I'm the guy you will be having coffee with tonight," he grins.

/////

"Okay, so do you have a boyfriend?"

"No appa, I dont," Y/N sighs, frustrated.

"Then uh.... do you not like men? I mean, Im okay with that sweetheart, as long as you are happy..."

Y/N smile a little. Her appa is the most adorable man ever existed.

"Appa, no!" She giggles.

"Okay, okay. Im just asking. You know I will support you always princess," her appa smile and she can see a small sigh of relieve. "Then what is it sweetheart? Why are you so against this marriage with Hyun Dae?"

"Well, for one, I think arranged marriage is so old school appa," she pouts. "We are not living in the 60s or 20s or whatever year you and eomma are from,"

"How old do you think we are? The 20s?!" Her appa laughs. "Arranged marriage is not so bad you know,"

"Its not bad at all. I actually found the love of my life," her eomma gets up from the couch and link arms with her husband. "Although he is quite annoying at first," she laughs. Y/N's appa leans and kiss the top of her mothers head.

"Its the best decision ever," he smiles.

Y/N roll her eyes. It is well known between their family, friends and community that her parents are as in love as ever. They were from two wealthy family, arranged to be married, and lucky for them, they were each other soulmates.

"Appa, eomma, just because you two are lucky doesnt mean everyone is,"

"But sweetheart, Hyun Dae is everything a man can be. Hes very kind, smart, hes taking over his appa's business, he loves animals, arts, kids. Everything that you like. And plus, you two are quite close too. Why are you so against it?"

Y/N sighs.

"I dont know. Maybe a little part of me wants that traditional love story you know? To fall madly in love with someone and then get married?" She sighs and lays her head on her elbow. Her parents look at each other before her eomma approached her slowly, stroking her hair slowly.

"Sweetheart... are you in love with someone?"

"Well..." Y/N scratched her neck, avoiding their intrusive eyes. Her lips immediately curl into a small smile as an image immediately pops inside her head. Boxy smile, deep voice, always happy, positive outlook on everything. The one guy who made her deeply fall in love.

"Oh my dear, who is it? Why didnt you tell us?" Her eomma smile widely, clapping her hand in excitement.

"Well.. its uh.. because I dont know if he feels the same way..."

"Have you told him yet? Whoever this lucky person is?" Her appa take a step closer to her, smiling. His princess' happiness is everything to him.

"N-no. Not yet. I dont know. Should I?"

"You should sweetheart. Or how else would he know? And he most definitely feels the same way,"

"Do you think so appa?"

"I know so," he smiles. "Who in the world wouldnt fall in love with you sweetheart?"

Y/N smiles. Her parents are the best.

"Then I'll tell him. I'll tell him tomorrow,"

/////

"I like you Taehyung,"

A few moments past without either one saying anything. The air that pricks her skins feels colder. But nothing is colder that Taehyung's stare that is emotionless in front of her right now.

"Uh.. what? I heard you wrong I think," he laughs awkwardly.

"I... like you Taehyung,"

"Well, I like you too. Of course. You are one of my closest friends," Taehyung smiles. Y/N feels her heart suffocating but still puts on a brave face. Maybe he dont understand what she meant. Taehyung can be oblivious sometimes.

"I like you Taehyung," Y/N says it much clearer this time. "I.. love you. I love you Kim Taehyung. Like for real,"

"Listen..," he sighs after a few moment of silence. "I'm really flattered that you uh.. have feelings for me. And I know we have developed some degree of friendship, but... you thats what you are... just a friend," he looks at her with his deep gaze. "Yoongi's hyung friend to be exact,"

"Yoongi's friend?" Y/N looks at him, eyes filled with confusion. "After all this time. Is that all I am to you Tae? Your hyung's friend?"

"You know what I mean Y/N. You know how we met-"

"Yeah, I know how we met Tae.. but I though after all these time and moments we had..."

"That I would think of you as more? That I would fall in love with you?" Taehyung sighs. "I'm sorry if you felt like I lead you on. Thats just me. I'm just friendly. Im this way with everyone. But come on Y/N. Look at the facts. How can I be with you? I'm a worldstar, and you are well... you,"

Y/N felt like Taehyung just stabbed hee heart a million times. What does he mean that shes just.. her? Whats so wrong about being her?

"I enjoy our friendship, our interaction Y/N, but no more than that. And I am sorry to say that I am in a relationship. We havent gone public yet, but we are planning to, by this week,"

"I-in a relationship? With who Tae? A-and you didnt even bother to tell me? After all the time we spent together?" Y/N feels like screaming, but she knows she has no right to do so. All she can do is hold in her tears that can easily burst at any time.

"I think you know her," he smiles. Oblivious to the pain that Y/N is feeling. "Oraia. The new idol,"

"Oraia?" Oh Y/N knows the girl perfectly well. Pretty, fashionable, great at singing, dancing. Any guy would kill to have her. Including Taehyung it seems.

"I-I have to know Tae. W-why her? H-how?" Y/N managed to choked out her question.

"Oraia is the perfect girl for me," Taehyung smile at the thoughts of her, proving how in love he is, making Y/N's heart breaks even more. "An idol, beautiful, talented, shes basically the female version of me. So I'm sorry, but you..." Taehyung stops, trying to find the right word to describe what hes saying. "You and me Y/N... we are just worlds apart,"

"You are not a worldstar when I met you. You are not that like this when I met you," Y/N said softly, holding in tears. "We are not that much different from each other Tae,"

Taehyung gave a sad smile, no, a pity smile, before standing up, ready to leave.

"You can think whatever you want Y/N. But if you ever think we can be together..." he sighs and looks at her and gave her another pity smile. "If only things were different. In another world, maybe we would have been together.Goodbye Y/N,"

/////

Y/N closes her eyes, tears rolling down both her cheeks, already mixed together with the pouring rain as she walks home. Maybe the rain will wash away her feelings for Taehyung. Her stupid feelings for Taehyung. Different world? Taehyung's world is what she wanted to avoid her whole life. Glitz, glamour, fame, riches... Y/N cries out as loud as her heart wanted, thankful no one can hear her in the heavy rain. Shes just not enough for him. Thats the real reason. And she will never be for Kim Taehyung.

Days passed and Y/N has been locked up in her room ever since that disasterous day. Her parents have given up trying to find out what happen and finally left her alone.

And this week is finally the week Y/N dread the most. All the entertainment news, magazines, gossip websites are buzzing with the announcement that has just been made all week.

Y/N looks at the glossy pictures of the scattered tabloids in front of her again. The intimate pictures getting blurry as her eyes gets wetter. Taehyung's voice replayed in her brain like a broken record.

"An idol, beautiful, talented, shes basically the female version of me. So I'm sorry, but you..." Taehyung stops, trying to find the right word to describe what hes saying. "You and me Y/N... we are just worlds apart,"

With a deep breath, she crumples the pages that reflects the beautiful relationship that is Taehyung and Oraia, wipe her eyes and walked downstairs to where her parents are drinking tea, enjoying their evening in their luxurious lounge.

"Oh Y/N. You are finally out. How are you feeling honey? Want to join us sweetheart?" Her mother looked up from the magazine shes reading and smile, her father the same, offering her a seat besides them.

"N-no. Thanks though. And I feel better," she gave a small smile. "Eomma, appa, I have something to tell you guys," she said, heart beating fast.

"What is it honey?"

"Appa, eomma, I have thought it through. I agree to your proposal. I agree with the arranged marriage to Hyun Dae,"

Her parents looks at each other, surprised.

"Sweetheart, are you sure? You dont have to rush into this. You should take your time and think i-"

"No appa. I am sure this time," she gave a smile, hoping it would convince them. "I want to marry Hyun Dae. I think he and I will make a very happy marriage,"

"W-well.." her eomma looks unsure. "Okay.. then,"

"If you are sure sweetheart. Then we will start setting it up," her appa stood up and hugs her. "Just know that we both love you so much and want nothing but your happiness,"

Y/N nods slowly, tears brimming in her eyes, softly she whispers,

"Me too appa, me too..,"

/////

Tupp. Tupp.

Y/N looks over the sliding door that opens up to her huge balcony. What is that sound? Panicking, she grab the first thing she can reach, a hairbrush, and walk slowly to the glass sliding door.

Tupp. Tupp.

The sound continue. Taking a deep breath she bravely slides open the door.

"Ouchhh," she rubs her head. "What the hell?" She looks around to find what hit her. "A pebble?"

"Oh no, did I hit you?" A voice called out. Y/N looks over the balcony.

"Hyun Dae? What are you doing here? Its 2am!"

"I, uh.. I want to talk to you," he grins.

"Theres this thing call a telephone you know? Or a front door? Havent use one of those?" She glares and Hyun Dae laughs.

"Sorry. I just thought this Romeo and Juliet shit is romantic you know?" He laughs and Y/N rolls her eyes. "Can you come down? Lets take a walk in your garden,"

"Come down from here? Like Rapunzel?!"

Hyun Dae laughs. "Oh my god, how are you so adorable? Of course not! Use the front door silly,"

Y/N giggles. "Okay. Be right there,"

A few minutes later, they were strolling in Y/N's family flower garden, inhaling the fresh night air.

"So? What is it you want to talk about that cant wait until daylight?"

"Well," Hyun Dae stop walking and pull her hand, sitting her down on the stone bench. "I just want to do it properly and formally," he smiles and kneels down in front of her, holding her hand.

Y/N looks at him, both nervous and confused.

"Y/N, you dont know how truly happy, grateful, excited, speechless, ecstatic I am that you agreed to marry me. I have been in love with you since forever," he smiles and blush slightly. "And I know this is just an arranged marriage to you, and you dont love me. But right here, right now, I promise you, that I will make you the happiest girl alive, that I will love you despite everything and anything, and everything you wish for princess, is my command,"

Y/N feels her heart beats faster.

"L/N Y/N, will you marry me and make me the luckiest man ever lived?"

Without a doubt, without a single second of hesitation, she nodded.

"Yes, yes, definitely yes,"

/////

"You look distracted. Whats wrong?" Yoongi glance at Taehyung whos just staring blankly at his mirror as they are changing and cleaning up their makeup.

"Uh... nothing hyung," Taehyung quickly pretends to clean up his things.

"Its not nothing. You have been distracted for a few weeks now. I didnt want to say anything because I thought you would snap out of it but its just getting worse,"

"Its really nothing hyung!" Taehyung snaps and plop down on his chair, sighing. Yoongi shrugs and decide to give him some space. "Err.. hyung?"

"Yeah?"

"Why..uh... why doesnt Y/N come over to our shows anymore?" Taehyung finally open up his mouth to ask. Since that first time they met, she has always been around, cheering for them, right at the front row. But after her confession, he didnt see her anymore. Yeah, he felt bad about what he said and he tried calling, texting, video calling.. but nothing. Shes totally ignoring him. He wanted to meet her at her house, or her work place, until he realized he didnt know where to go. In fact, he didnt know anything about her. All the time they hung out, he only always talk about him. His life, his problems. Him. As if its that interesting. He sighs again.

Yoongi side eyed him.

"Is that what disturbing you? Y/N?"

"N-no. Im just curious,"

"Oh, okay then. Then the answer is, I dont want to tell you," Yoongi picks up his stuff and walk off.

Of course. Of course his hyung knows. Yoongi and Y/N are best friends afterall. Taehyung sighs. Well, maybe he deserves this. But still... he doesnt want to admit it to anybody, even himself, but deep down, he miss her. Really miss her.

/////

"Okay guys, lets go. We need to get ready," Namjoom clap his hands as a way to make his members make their way to the dressing room. Its awards season finally, and they need to get ready for their stage. Taehyung makes his way with his hyung to the back of the stage, wishing for all this to be over soon. He really wants to just rest his head.

As he was putting on the final touches he turns to the door and saw Y/N standing there, all dressed in a beautiful gown, fit for an award show. His first thought is, wow, and the second is that his eyes are playing tricks on him. But as Y/N makes her way inside and hugs Yoongi, he knows this is reality. Taehyung smiles. He cant help it. Did Yoongi told her about what he said a few days back and now shes here to see him?

Taehyung walks over the moment he gets the chance to get her alone.

"Hey," Taehyung smiles.

"Um.. hey," Y/N smiles awkwardly.

"So, why are you here? You miss me or something? Or are you stalking me?" He laughs.

"No, I'm actually h-"

"Hey baby, there you are. The crew said you went in first," A handsome guy, and obviously a chaebol makes his way to them, giving Y/N a kiss on the cheek and hugging her waist.

"Hi babe," she smiles. "Yeah, I went in to see Yoongi. Its time you meet my mysterious bestie,"

Taehyung was silenced, eyeing the man up and down. Baby? Cheek kissing? Waist hugging? Who is this guy?

"Oh is this Yoongi?" He smiles and held out a hand. Taehyung took it reluctantly.

"Oh no no. This is Kim Taehyung. Hes uh... Yoongi's band member,"

Yoongi's band member? Thats all he is??

"Oh okay. Hi, I'm Hyun Dae," he smiles and shakes Taehyung's hand before hugging Y/N's waist again. Taehyung felt like pulling off his arm, and he dont know why he felt that way.

"Lets go meet Yoongi," Y/N smiles and bows to him and move over to Yoongi, leaving Taehyung still staring at them. Once Yoongi and Hyun Dae are caught up in a conversation, Taehyung immediatly grab Y/N by the elbow and drag her to the side.

"Ouchh. What the hell Tae?!"

"Are you seriously this petty?" Taehyung scoffs.

"Petty?? What are you even talking about?"

"Fine, I rejected you. So now you are bringing this... this... stuck up someone here for what? To show me that you have moved on? To make me jealous?" Taehyung scoffs again. "As if,"

"What?!" Y/N looks at him in disbelief. "God Taehyung, you are so full of yourself! Hes not stuck up! And I'm not here for you!"

"Yeah right," Taehyung smile sarcastically. "So, hyung told you I asked and the next show you brought a man over? Please Y/N, have some pride,"

"What are you even talking about? Yoongs never talked about you. At all! Im here becaus-"

"Oh Taehyung, you have already met," his manager interrupted the conversation and bows to Y/N as Hyun Dae join her side. "Okay guys, gather round. I think all of you must already know about The Empire. As you know, their company owns and organized all show events in Korea and is one of the biggest in the music industry, among others. The president cant make it, so his daughter is here instead. And she and her fiancee just wants to meet all the artists her tonight to express their gratitude,"

Y/N and Hyun Dae bows and smiles to everyone as Taehyung stands frozen in place, the only thing he can hear is 'fiance'. Y/N is... engaged?

And... shes an heir?

"You and me Y/N... we are just worlds apart,"

Yeah, they are worlds apart. He was right. But the truth is, Taehyung is the one whos way beneath her.

/////

"Lets go, lets go peopleeee," Namjoon clapped his hands a sign for them to get moving. Taehyung and the rest of the members climbed up their black van, still yawning from having to wake up early in the morning. They are off to another country for a month for their variety show shoot. A special content, the management said. Something to do with their new sponsors. Taehyung never really pay attention to all the boring details, all he knows is, he will do what he is asked to do, no question asked.

But as they land and making their way out from their private plane, Taehyung, still half asleep, need to take a double take when he saw Y/N and her fiance at the arrivals, standing atound with the crew, their luggage all around them.

"H-hyung?" He nervously tapped Yoongi's shoulder.

"What?" Yoongi grumbled, still cranky from being awaken from his beauty sleep on the plane.

"Are my eyes playing tricks on me or is that uh... Y/N?" Taehyung really wished he has gone crazy. Thats he is seeing things. That Yoongi will look at him funny and tell him theres no Y/N. And Yoongi did look at him funny, but his answer is totally not what hes expecting.

"Dont you know? Her father's company is our new sponsor for the show and they are here to monitor the shoot,"

Taehyung stopped in his tracks. He dont know why the news startled him. It shouldnt be affecting him at all. Right? Even he dont understand what he is feeling as he looked over to Y/N and Hyun Dae smiling at each other. Anger? Sadness? Happy? He cant be sure. But one thing he knows for sure, its going to be one hell of a month.

/////

"So... you arent going to tell me that you are engaged?" Taehyung jogged lightly, to catch up with Y/N whom he saw is taking a morning walk from his hotel roon window. They have free schedule for the first day and what luck, the first thing he saw this morning is Y/N, alone. Without that stupid chaebol.

"Oh, uh hi Taehyung," Y/N, startled at his presence, give a small smile and a polite bow.

"Hi Y/N," he smile. Honestly, he missed her. Well, they were pretty close before. As friends. Yes, of course as friends and nothing more! Taehyung reminded himself. "But seriously, you are never going to tell me you are engaged?"

"Do I have to?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I'm not even sure if I'm your friend or yoongis friend or whatever, you know? And I dont think you be interested to know anyway," she picked up her pace but Taehyung managed to catch up.

"What do you mean?! Of course I wanna know! And of course we are friends! And you didnt think to tell me that you father own half of Korea's music industry?" He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, you never ask. And I'm not one to go around telling people my family history Tae," she shrugged. "Afterall, why would a worldstar want to know about someone who is from a different world than him, right?"

Okay, he deserved that.

"Okay, Y/N, look," he pull her hand, stopping her from walking. "I am sorry about what I said that day. I dont know what I was thinking. I was startled by your confession. To be honest, the months I spent without seeing you at all, well... I missed you. I miss you, okay?"

Y/N sighed. Why is he doing this to her? Her heart is still recovering. Still trying to erased every love she felt for him.

"We are going to spend a whole month working together. Stuck in a small island. Why dont we be friends again? Hmm?" He made his famous puppy eyes, blinking his eyes rapidly, lips pouting. "Pleaaaase? Taetae is sorrryy,"

Y/N tried to keep a sttaight face but burst out laughing. She can never say no to that face.

"Fine Tae. You know I cant resist that stupid face," she laughs.

"So, friends?" Taehyung held out a hand and Y/N shakes it.

"Of course, friends,"

As he shakes her hand, smiling ear to ear, Taehyung realized, he had never felt this happy, and it scared him.

/////

They might have rekindled their friendship, but Taehyung couldnt get even 10 minutes alone with her without being disturbed by Yoongi or Hyun Dae, and its pissing him off. Worse, he have to watch all the romantic moments between the two love birds, and trust him, Hyun Dae is really not afraid to show his affection, its making him wants to throw up.

Suprising Y/N with flowers on set, setting up a special candle light dinner when the whole crew is eating, suddenly gets on stage in the middle of dinner and sing her a song. And that motherfucker can even play a guitar and he look damn good playing it too. Taehyung swore all the girls there are swooning over him. But what he hates most is all the admiring whispers.

"Y/N is so lucky"

"Hyun Dae is the perfect guy"

"I wish I was Y/N"

Urghhh. Annoying.

It also doesnt help that his relationship with Oraia has gone stale. Yeah, they text everyday, call each other every night. But nothing she says interest him. Taehyung mostly tune out whatever shes saying during their phone calls, eyes focusing on what Y/N is doing. The way she laughs when she talks to someone, her clusmy ways of doing things, her passion while working. All that is more interesting to him than his own girlfriend. His supppsedly perfect, beautiful, girlfriend.

It must be the island. He hasnt seen Oraia for almost a month now, and hes stuck here for all that time. Of course it will put a strain on his relationship. Yes, that must be it.

But as his heart bubbles with jealousy as he watches Y/N and Hyun Dae running around the beach, Hyun Dae catching Y/N by the waist and lift her up to kiss her, Taehyung knows for sure, that it is definitely not it.

/////

Taehyung tossed and turned for hours and after eventually still failing to fall asleep, he decide to take a walk by the beach. The moon is out and the breeze is welcoming. Its a good night to walk and collect his thoughts.

As he walked slowly along the beach, the cool air blowing his hair, he saw a figure sitting alone by the beach, eyes closed, enjoying the midnight breeze. Taehyung immediately smile.

Y/N.

"Hey," he approached her slowly and smile.

"Oh, Tae. Hi," she smiled back. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

"I cant sleep. What about you? Isnt it dangerous for a pretty girl to be alone so late at night?" He smile.

Y/N laughs.

"Its a private island Tae. I think its kinda safe. And you know I usually cant sleep and the sound of the ocean calms me down,"

Taehyung does know that. Back to the days when they use to spend so much time together, they always sit by the beach and talked. Well, usually, he will be the one who do the talking, because all he cares about is himself. And his problems. And Y/N always listen. To all his weird ramblings, his peculiar thoughts that people usually laugh at. Even Oraia sometimes makes fun of him. But Y/N listen to them all. Understand him even. Why didnt he realized that before?

"Well... can I join you?"

"Of course. Have a seat," she patted down the spot besides her and Taehyung makes himself comfortable. They talked and talked, laughter filled up the night air and Taehyung cant seem to care about anything else other than that moment.

"Oh god, my tummy is hurting from laughing so much," Y/N said, still giggling from what Taehyung said. "I forgot how funny and weird you are Taetaeee,"

Taehyung smile and looked at her, staring deeply at her laughing face.

"Its nice,"

"What is?" Y/N who has stopped laughing, asked him, confused.

"Hearing you call me Taetae again," he smile, making Y/N blushed.

"W-well, that is your name,"

"Yeah, yeah. It is," Taehyung smile, still staring at her. "Y/N? Are you happy?"

"Right now? Yeah I am. We have been laughing for hours Tae. Of course Im happy. Whats wrong with you?" Y/N giggles, trying to toned down the awkwardness shes starting to feel.

"No. I mean, are you happy? Like really happy? With Hyun Dae? Does he makes you happy?"

"H-hyun Dae?" Y/N was taken aback from the sudden question. "Uhh, of course I am, hes my fiance, of course he makes me happy Tae,"

"Really? Then why did you stutter?" Taehyung still looks at her, straight into her eyes with his sharp gaze.

"I- I did not stutter! Whats wrong with you Tae? You are being weird. But not normal weird," Y/N starts to dust off the sand off her, preparing to get up. "Its getting late. We should go in,"

Taehyung grab her hands, standing up with her.

"Do you love him? Do you love Hyun Dae?"

"Why are you asking me that Tae? You are being weird!" Y/N tries to shake off his grip but he held on tighter.

"Answer the question Y/N. Do you love him?"

"Hyun Dae is amazing! He cares for me. He loves me. He knows what I like, sweet, romantic, p-"

"But do you love him?"

"I-I," Y/N stuttered. "I dont need to answer that!" Y/N tries to pull her hand again but to no avail.

"You cant answer it because you dont love him. And you cant lie to me," Taehyung smile.

"You are crazy. Let my hand go Tae," Y/N insisted. "It has nothing to do with you!"

"But it does Y/N. It does, because you dont love him. Because you love me," Taehyung state matter of factly. "You always did and you always will Y/N,"

Y/N was speechless, shocked, surprised, that Taehyung would bring it up again. Tears starts to sting her eyes. She has never felt more hummiliated. Is Taehyung making fun of her? Of her feelings? She thought they were friends again. Why is he doing this to her?

"Just let me go!"

"I cant, and I wont,"

"Why?!" Y/N is crying now. She dont understand why Taehyung is being this way. "To hummiliate me even more? To make fun of my feelings for you?"

"What? No!" Taehyung cant believe Y/N would think of him to be that cruel. But maybe he deserved it. "Because I love you Y/N!" Taehyung pull her hands, making her fall into his arms and he immediately cup her face and captured her lips with hers. The kiss has never felt more electricfying. Taehyung felt goosebump all over his body, he hears fireworks went off everywhere. And right at that moment, he knows that hes in love.

But the moment only last for a split second when Y/N, tears already spilled down her cheeks pushed him away hard and slapped him across the face.

"Get away from me Kim Taehyung!"

Was the last word she screamed out before she ran away into the darkness.

/////

Taehyung almost went crazy trying to finish the rest of the shooting. After that fateful night, Y/N took the earliest flight home the next morning, leaving Taehyung with no way to contact her at all. No reply to his texts or his calls and he cant even get away from his stupid schedule to find her at home. He was lost.

Its the very first time in his life that he has seen things so clearly. He is in love with Y/N. And she left him being so lost.

It also doesnt help that after Taehyung told Oraia that he wants to break up, his crazy ex girlfriend bombared his calls, his texts, his friends, even his manager with texts begging to take her back. She even went so far as to include the media, giving sad interviews, crying her eyes out. Taehyung wondered how he didnt notice how crazy Oraia is. Maybe its true what they said, love is blind. But what they had isnt love. It never was. They both know they got together just because they seemed to look perfect for each other. Thats not love, and Oraia is just mad that shes no longer one half of the industry perfect couple.

/////

"Hey Tae?" Yoongi knocks on his hotel room, peeking his head. Theres still a week left of shooting, but Taehyung's heart is no where in it. All he wanted to do is to go back home, find Y/N and begged for her forgiveness until she takes her back. Hes going to convince her that he loves her. He really do. And not because he pity her, or because hes jealous of her relationship with Hyun Dae, but because he just realized it now. That from that moment he asked her where the bathroom is, hes already in love. Y/N has already caught his eyes, and heart from that first night at the concert, but he is too busy chasing his fame and title to realized it.

And now it might be too late.

Taehyung might have already lost the love of his life, forever.

"Yeah hyung?" Yoongi make his way in and sit on Taehyung's bed.

"Did something happen between you and Y/N? Did she going back home early has anything to do with you?"

Taehyung looked at his hyung with tired eyes. No longer bother to pretend or curious why his hyung us asking.

I told her I love her...." Taehyung said, tears stinging his eyes at the memory. "And she thinks I'm just playing her,"

Yoongi sighed.

"Are you?"

Taehyung sits up and hugs a pillow, looking at Yoongi with teary eyes.

"No hyung. Of course not. I really do love her. I love her so much. Im just too stupid to realized it then," he sniffles. "And now, I have to wait until this stupid shoot is over to win her back hyung, because shes not answering my calls or my texts. And I swear hyung, I will do everything to win her back from that Hyun Dae,"

Yoongi sighs again, looking away before looking back at the younger man.

"Tae... Y/N is getting married today. She suddenly said she wants to get married as soon as possible, doesnt matter if its a small wedding. She just wants to get married. Today,"

Taehyung looked at his hyung, eyes widen, not believing what hes hearing.

"I-I have to go hyung," he suddenly gets up.

"Go where Tae? What are you doing?"

Taehyung grabs his bag, not thinking anymore.

"To stop the wedding hyung, to win back the love of my life,"

/////

Y/N looks at her reflection in the mirror. Even with last minute preparations, her mother managed to do everything perfectly. Her dress, her makeup, her hair, her flowers, even her dressing room is perfect. Y/N smile to her reflection. But she knows its only superficial. Its a smile she puts on to convince everyone, to convince herself, that shes making the right decision. The right choice.

That shes happy.

And she know Hyun Dae will make her happy.

He have to.

"Dont marry him,"

Y/N turns around to find Kim Taehyung by the door. His hair a mess, shirt crumpled, eyes bloodshot from crying.

"T-Tae..."

"Dont marry him Y/N," he move closer to her. "Dont do it. Please. Please Y/N,"

"Taehyung, what are you doing here?" Y/N feel tears prickling her eyes. Why is he here. Why now? Why today?

"To tell you I love you Y/N," Taehyung sniffles and take her hand. "T-to tell you to not marry him. Dont marry him Y/N,"

"I-I cant Tae," Y/N shakes her head. "Hyun Dae deserves all the happiness in the world. He treats me so good Tae,"

"Then what about you? You deserve happiness too. Happiness with me Y/N,"

Y/N close her eyes and shakes her head. Why is Taehyung telling her all the things shes dying to hear before? But its all too late now. Too late.

"Marry me Y/N. Marry me. And I'll make you the happiest woman in the world. Marry me," Taehyung sobs and kneel down on his knees, begging, hand still holding hers.

Y/N starts to shake, trying to hold in her tears but it rolled out anyway, flooding her face.

"D-dont do this to me Tae. You dont love me. You dont. You dont!"

"I love you Y/N. I love you I love you I love you! I know I realized it too late. And thats my mistake. But I swear to you, that I'll spend forever making it up to you," Taehyung begs desperately. He cant lose her. He cant! "Please. Please, dont marry him Y/N. Please..."

Y/N closes her eyes. Tears rolling down her face, no intention of stopping. She wanted to say yes. God, how she wanted to say yes. How easy it would be. To be with the man he love. The man he had dreamed of. But she cant. Its not fair to Hyun Dae. And its not fair to her. To her heart that Taehyung has broken to pieces.

"Im sorry Taehyung... I cant," Y/N let go of his hand, tears dropping on the floor, wetting her beautiful white dress.

Taehyung felt like his whole world shattered to pieces. Thats it. Just two words. "I cant" and he lost her. He lost the love of his life.

After felt like an eternity, he stood up, face still wet with tears but a smile on his face.

"You look beautiful Y/N," he smile. "You always do.

Y/N sobs hard, her whole body shakes.

"Be happy Y/N. Hes an idiot if he dont take care of you. If he hurt you like I do. Hes an absolute idiot," Taehyung smile and carressed her face softly. "Be happy my princess. And when the time comes, come back to me. I'll always be waiting Y/N, because you are my true love, and we will always find our way back to each other,"

Taehyung placed a long, deep kiss on her forehead, eyes closed as tears flows down, knowing he has lost the love of his life, trying to savor the feel of her in his memories.

"I love you Y/N. And I'll wait for you, forever," he smile one last time as he turns around and walk away, leaving Y/N drenched in her tears.

/////

5 YEARS LATER

"Woohoooo, last concert for this tour guys, good job!" The members high five each other as they make their way into the dressing room backstage. Taehyung laughs and make his way into his own personal room, exhausted from a show well done.

"Hi, do you know where the bathroom is?"

Taehyung stopped in his track at the sound of the voice. A voice so familiar. A voice that haunts his dream for years. A voice that he never forgets.

He looks up, and there she is. Smiling at him.

"Y-Y/N?"

Y/N nods, giggling.

"Y/N?!" Taehyung runs to her and engulf her in a hug. "I am not dreaming am I? A-are you really here?"

Y/N giggles again.

"Its me Tae. Real life me. Im real,"

"W-why? H-how?"

"Well, if Im not mistaken, 5 years ago, someone told me that we will always find our way back to each other. And that he will wait for me, forever. Im just checking if he still keeps his promise," Y/N grins.

Taehyung hugs her tight.

"You dont know how I dream of this day every single day Y/N. How I waited to see you again. To feel you again. To hear your voice again," Taehyung hugs her, not letting go.

"Ive come back Taehyung. Ive come back to you,"

Taehyung cant believe this is happening. Then he remembered something. And although its something hes dreading to ask, he knows he has to know.

"H-Hyun Dae?"

Y/N smile at his nervous state. She has never seen someone so adorable. God, shes just so in love with him.

"We were never married Tae. When you came that day... everything changed. I didnt marry him. I couldnt. Not when I know my heart belongs to you. And Hyun Dae... he knows it too. And he loves me enough to let me find my own happiness,"

"W-what?"

"Im sorry it took so long. But I need to find myself. To really understand my feelings, your feelings... but Im here now, Taehyung... if you still want me..."

Taehyung grins.

"Is that even a question my love?"

Y/N giggles at the way he calls her.

"I love you Y/N. Since that first night we met. I have been yours. Im sorry for hurting you. Im sorry for my mistakes. Im sorry fo-"

"Shhhh," she puts a finger on his lips. "It doesnt matter anymore Tae. All of it doesnt matter anymore," she smile. "Im here now. You are here now. And I, I love you Kim Taehyung,"

Taehyung grins. Such word has never felt so sweet. He felt happiness bubbling inside his chest. And in the first time in 5 years, he really mean it.

"I love you Y/N, my love, my soulmate,"

"I love you Taehyung. You really had me at bathroom," she giggles.

"Oh shut up," Taehyung laughs and lifts her up, wrapping her legs around him. "Just shut up and kiss me. Just kiss me baby,"

And she really did.

#bts #bangtan boys #bangtan seonyeondan #bts fiction #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung scenario #taehyung angst #taehyung fiction #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop scenario #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst

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spn-safeandsound · 5 years ago

Text

03. Hero Gets the Girl

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x03; Dead in the Water

Word Count: 8,106

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: More like ‘Dean in the Water’, am I right? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

Julia's nose practically touched the pages of her bible as she bent over it, reading a passage from First Corinthians. She only picked at the fries on her plate as she silently read her mother's favorite verse over and over. The page was almost worn, as it had been for years, and the verse was highlighted in blue so it stuck out. She had it memorized—it was only four words, after all—but something about seeing the words on the page calmed her down.

Do everything in love.

It was such a simple verse but her mom recited every day—sometimes more than a few times a day, depending on the situation. Naomi loved helping people until the day she died, running the philanthropy department of Petersen Sports Co. until she could no longer keep up. She was as saint like as you could get without actually being a saint but she never preached needlessly at you and she didn't push her beliefs on anyone.

She was Naomi...and Julia missed her so much.

November thirtieth was always hard on Julia, no matter what. Usually she barricaded herself in her room and watched her mom's favorite movie—which, ironically, was Dirty Dancing—and ate chocolate chip cookies but she didn't have the time or proper setting to do that. She was on the road with the Winchester brothers so that was doing a little bit to help her feel better.

Sam sat at her left and watched her carefully, looking at the melancholy expression on her face. "Did you call Beth yet?"

"She called me," she informed him, smiling softly at the thought of her oldest sister. "and she let me talk to Lizzie. She's such a talker these days."

Sam chuckled. "Well, she is Beth's kid."

"Yeah, that's true," Julia agreed; Dean may have thought that she talked too much but she didn't compare to Bethany. Her oldest sister's voice was probably the most recognizable sound to her because of her endless talking. "I called Abby."

"What's she up to?"

"A hunt down in Texas. She said something about a spirit. Levi's in meetings all day but we're gonna talk tonight."

"And your dad?"

Julia sighed heavily, looking down at her bible as her eyes started to sting. "Haven't heard from him."

Sam frowned in sympathy, watching as she practically curled into herself. She went back to reading her bible, her index finger trailing softly over the highlighted verse.

It was then that Dean walked over to them, a pile of newspapers in his hands so he could start looking for their next case. He sat in the stool on Julia's right side and stole a fry from her plate.

"You okay, shortcake?"

"Dean..." Sam gave him a warning look.

Sam knew how depressed Julia got on the last day of November. She didn't need his brother bothering her when the loss of her mom was still so fresh. Still, if anyone could understand her pain, it would be Dean. He was old enough to remember their mother and her death, so they had kindred experiences.

Dean immediately understood the look Sam gave him. He grimaced and softly patted Julia on the shoulder and Sam swore he saw his thumb rub soothing circles into the fabric of her shirt but he could just be imaging things. Either way, that was the closest he had seen Dean comfort a girl in his life.

Julia gave him a soft smile and pushed her plate of fries toward him. Sam watched in slight awe as Dean accepted the fries with a large smile; Julia never shared her fries with anyone. Sam couldn't count the amount of times his hand had been slapped away from her plate because he was trying to steal one—they were her ultimate favorite food.

Dean went to work on looking through the obituaries in the newspapers he collected, circling deaths that seemed suspicious. Sam pulled out his phone and started checking his emails, helplessly hoping that maybe his dad would have sent him one. Julia turned to Revelations and started studying for her New Testament final that she would be taking online.

"Can I get you anything else?" a pretty blonde waitress walked over to them, dropping a flirty smile at Dean.

Dean looked up, pen resting against his lips, and grinned.

Sam cleared his throat. "Just the check, please."

"Okay," the waitress sent Sam a smile and then turned to walk to the register on the other side of the bar.

Dean groaned in displeasure and glared at Sam over Julia's head. "You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while," he gestured toward the waitress, who was dressed for tips. "That is fun."

Sam gave Dean an unimpressed look, making the older brother sigh.

"Here, take a look at this," he slid the newspaper he was looking down the bar to him. "I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week, Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water, nothing."

"Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year," Dean continued. "None of the bodies were found, either."

Julia frowned and pulled the paper over to her, quickly reading through the obituary. "She was the swim team captain at her school?"

"Yep," Dean confirmed. "None of the other bodies were found, either. They had a funeral two days ago."

Sam looked over at him, his eyebrows raised. "A funeral?"

"Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin," Dean shrugged. "For, uh, closure of whatever."

Julia was all for whatever helped people cope with their grief but she didn't really understand why the family just didn't have a memorial for the poor girl. Then again, it certainly wasn't her business.

"Closure," Sam scoffed sourly. "What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them."

Dean turned in his stool to face Sam, sensing his displeasure. Truthfully, he'd picked on up the fact that Sam was irritated they weren't actively trying to find Dad for a few days now. "Something you want to say to me?"

Dean was an upfront guy; he didn't like passive aggressive bullshit.

Sam inhaled deeply. "The trail for Dad—it's getting colder every day."

"Exactly," Dean pointed out. "So, what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Something. Anything."

"You know what, I'm sick of your attitude," Dean's eyes narrowed in irritation as his voice lowered in anger. "You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?"

"Yeah, I know you do, it's just—"

"I'm the one who's been with him every day for the past four years while you've been off to college going to pep rallies," Dean cut Sam off coldly. "We will find Dad but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there, okay?"

Sam rolled his eyes heavily, making Dean bristle. Sensing that their argument was going to stumble out of control—like they sometimes did with brothers who both had the famous Winchester temper—Julia spoke up.

"Please stop, all right?" she looked between them, her eyes wide and sad; Dean and Sam almost immediately melted—her puppy-eyed look was almost lethal compared to Sam's. "Please."

"All right," Sam sighed, giving in. "Lake Manitoc. How far?"

Dean grinned at him and grabbed the check when the waitress delivered it, a phone number at the bottom.

They reached Lake Manitoc within a couple of hours, having already been in Minnesota for a small spirit case that had Julia torching her first corpse. They decided to head to the victim's family first before they went to the police station to question the sheriff about the recent drownings and missing bodies.

The Carlton residence was a basic cabin, right on Lake Manitoc. It was a cute little home with dark green shutters that made Julia smile sadly. The house looked well loved and she felt horrible that the family was going through this kind of grief.

Grief from a family member dying was one thing. When that person died of something that couldn't easily be explained? That was worse—much, much worse.

Dean knocked on the front door of the cabin; a man around his age opened the door, giving them a questioning look.

"Will Carlton?" Dean asked him; the man nodded. "I'm Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamill and junior Agent Fisher. We're with the US Wildlife Service."

Behind his back, Julia gave him an unimpressed look. Did he think he was being slick using the most notable stars of the popular Star Wars franchise? And he had to quit with this junior agent and intern stuff—she wasn't that much younger than him and Sam and she wasn't a kid by any means.

"More questions?" Will sighed.

Julia gave him a sad smile. "Sorry, but it's for our investigation."

Will nodded and walked out onto the porch. He led them closer to the lake, his eyes on the closest dock. There was an older man sitting on it, looking out at the lake with depressed eyes.

"First off, we'd like to give you our condolences," Sam said softly as came to a stop. "We've heard great things about Sophie."

Will gave him a half-hearted smile that spoke volumes with just how sad he was. Julia's heart ached with sympathy.

Sam and Dean started asking him questions, hoping to get a better insight on the circumstances surrounding Sophie's death. They were careful not to offend the man while also trying to get as much information as they could.

"She was about a hundred yards out," Will nodded at the lake, answering Sam's question about where he last saw Sophie. "That's where she was dragged down."

"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean prodded.

"Yeah," Will scoffed and smiled fondly. "She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as she was in her own bathtub."

"So, no splashing? No signs of distress?"

"No, that's what I'm telling you."

"Did you see any shadows in the water?" Sam followed up. "Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?"

"No," Will shook his head. "Again, she was really far out there."

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean spoke up.

"No, never. Why?" Will stiffened, looking paranoid. "Why, what do you think is out there?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we do," Julia assured him kindly. "Thanks for your time, Mr. Carlton."

"What about your father?" Sam asked Will as Julia and Dean started back toward the Impala; they paused to listen to Will's answer. "Can we talk to him?"

Will looked over to the dock; his dad was in the same position, looking down at the dark water below him. "Look, if you don't mind, I mean," he said hesitantly. "he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot."

Sam nodded and gave him a small smile. "We understand. Thanks again."

Julia, Dean, and Sam got into the Impala and drove off. As they headed to the police station to ask the sheriff for more details about the case, it was almost too quiet. It unnerved Julia because usually Dean had some of his music playing and although she wasn't the biggest fan of mullet rock—as Sam put it—she preferred it to silence.

"Why isn't there any snow?" she spoke up, looking out her window. "Shouldn't there be snow?"

She had lived in Chicago all of her life up until she left for college in California and there was usually some snow that fell around this time of year. And Chicago was much more south than Lake Manitoc. Bethany had told her just that morning that they had a few inches of snow already at home.

"Global warming's a bitch," Dean answered.

Julia laughed lightly in agreement before picking up the local newspaper she bought when they got to town. She had been interested in the front headline, which was giving the town's residence more details about the nearby dam that was falling apart. When they arrived at the police station, she had read the whole article and discovered that the government had decided not fund any repairs.

"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" the sheriff, who introduced himself as Jake, asked them as he led them to his office.

"You sure it's accidental?" Sam raised his eyebrows at him. "Will Carlton saw something grab his sister."

"Like what? Here, sit please," Jake gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk; Dean let Julia and Sam sit in them. "There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."

"Yeah," Dean chuckled awkwardly. "Right."

"Will Carlton was traumatized and sometimes the mind plays tricks," Jake went on as he sat in his own seat. "Sill, we dragged that lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

"That's weird, though," Dean commented. "I mean, that's the third missing body this year."

"I know," Jake agreed sadly and a little defensively. "These are my people from my town. These are people I care about."

"I know."

"Anyway," Jake sighed and leaned back in his chair. "All this won't be a problem much longer."

Dean gave him a curious look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the dam, of course."

"It's falling apart," Julia spoke up, knowing that their aliases probably should have known about something that would so drastically affect the town's wildlife; Sam and Dean gave her questioning looks while Jake nodded solemnly.

"And the Feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway," Jake added; Dean and Sam were impressed with Julia's sudden knowledge of the town that saved their asses. "In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either."

Dean gave the sheriff a weak smile and went to speak but wasn't able to. An attractive woman around his age had knocked on the door, getting the man's attention.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" the woman asked sheepishly. "I can come back later."

Jake stood up; Julia and Sam followed his lead. "This is my daughter."

Dean grinned at her. "Pleasure to meet you," he shook her hand. "I'm Dean."

"Andrea Barr," the woman introduced herself. "Hi."

"Hi."

"They're from the Wildlife Service," Jake informed Andrea pointedly. "About the lake."

Andrea's face visibly fell. "Oh."

A little boy with a bored and depressed expression on his face walked into the room after her. Julia gave him a small smile; she loved kids and had always wanted to be a mother but, unfortunately, that wasn't in the cards for her.

"Oh, hey there," Dean spotted the boy too. "What's your name?"

The boy seemed very shy; he hurried away from them to go sit at a table outside of the office. Andrea gave them an apologetic look and followed after him, taking out crayons and some paper to give him.

"His name is Lucas," Jake informed them, watching his grandson with a sad smile.

Julia perked up at the name. She felt like it was a sign from her guardian angel that she happened to be working a case on the anniversary of her mom's death that involved a boy with her father's name. He hadn't contacted her at all today, so she felt like the angels were assuring her that she'd be okay.

"Is he okay?" Sam asked, watching the little boy take the crayons from his mother and start to draw on the construction paper in front of him.

"My grandson's been through a lot. We all have," Jake sighed as he walked toward his office door. "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know."

"Thank you for your help," Julia smiled at the sheriff gratefully as they left his office.

"You know," Dean turned back to Jake and Andrea halfway out of the station, though he was speaking mostly to Andrea. "now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?"

"Lakefront Motel," Andrea informed him. "Go around the corner. It's about two blocks up."

"Two—" Dean scratched his head, acting confused. "Would you mind showing us?"

Andrea chuckled, amused. "You want me to walk you two blocks?"

Dean smiled sheepishly. "Not if it's any trouble."

"I'm headed that way anyway," Andrea turned to her dad. "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three," she kissed her son's head and promised, "We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?"

"Thanks again," Sam told Jake before he and Julia followed Dean and Andrea out of the station.

As they walked through the bustling town square, Julia squinted around. It was pretty much December and it wasn't cold and there was no sign of winter weather. Andrea was wearing a t-shirt and skirt for crying out loud and no one that they passed was wearing any sort of coat. The only sign that it had been fall was the bare trees and dead leaves blowing around in the slight breeze.

"So," Dean cleared his throat to get Andrea's attention. "cute kid."

"Thanks," Andrea smiled before leading them across a street.

"Kids are the best, huh?" he laughed.

Andrea gave him a clearly amused look but didn't answer as they walked closer to the motel. They stopped on the sidewalk in front of the building and Andrea turned to Dean with a smirk.

"There it is," she gestured to the motel. "Like I said, two blocks."

Julia laughed lightly, amused at the woman's spunk. She liked that she wasn't falling at Dean's feet like most women would. She was smart and knew that he was trying to get on her good side. "Thanks."

Andrea grinned at her before looking back at Dean. "Must be hard with your sense of direction," she commented, her tone sarcastic. "never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line."

Julia gaped at her, a laugh escaping her throat before she could stop it. Andrea left with a satisfied smirk on her face, calling back to them, "Enjoy your stay!"

Dean was at a loss for words but he did manage to send Julia an annoyed look. Julia controlled her laughter but she was beaming at him, her cheeks red with mirth and her dimple out.

Sam grinned at Dean, just as amused as Julia. "Kids are the best?" he repeated Dean's earlier line. "You don't even like kids."

"I love kids!" Dean defended himself.

"Name three children that you even know," Sam dared him.

"Lizzie," Dean said immediately, naming Julia's five-year-old niece.

"Okay, that's one," Julia commented. "How about two more?"

Dean pressed his lips together and pulled his hands out of his pockets to count on his fingers. He took too long to say another name, since he didn't know any other children, and Sam got bored. He started toward the motel's front off with Julia on his trail.

"I'm thinking!" Dean called after them, scratching his head.

Since Julia was paying for this motel stay—she, Sam, and Dean agreed that she would pay for every-other motel they had to stop at—she splurged for an extra room like usual. When the Winchester were paying, she had to share the bed with Sam but she enjoyed a room to herself, especially since Sam was a giant and took up eighty-five percent of the bed. The only thing was that the rooms had to be connected; Dean was adamant about that, especially since she was in training and he was worried if something would happen.

Dean's concern was sweet but sometimes Julia liked her privacy. Especially since she spent all of her time with two grown men.

She laid on the bed in her room on her stomach, her feet swaying in the air above her as she typed the class discussion that was due that night for her Archaic Latin class. The connecting door to Sam and Dean's room was open and she could hear Sam typing away but other than that, it was pretty quiet other than her quiet humming that helped her concentrate on her work.

She looked up from her laptop as Dean entered her room.

"You saved our asses back there at the station, you know."

She gave him a confused look, having already forgotten what he was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"What you said about the dam," he reminded her. "If you hadn't of said something, I'm pretty sure our cover would have been blown."

"Oh," Julia smiled like she did whenever she received praise and looked back at her screen. "It was just luck. I saw an article about it on the newspaper I picked up at the gas station when we got to town."

"Well, either way," Dean shrugged. "You did good," he sat down at the end of the bed, just behind her computer. "Whatcha doing?"

"Class discussion," her eyes were back on him, unable to focus now.

"Class?"

Julia nodded at the confused look on his face. "It's the last week before finals."

"What class?"

"Classes," she elaborated, sharing her class schedule. "New Testament, Archaic Latin, Aramaic, Islam, and French."

Dean gave her an impressed look. "You're doing all of that online?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed. "I had an internship at Stanford so I was able to do my classes online."

"What about next semester?"

"Already registered and they're all online again," she assured him.

"And then you graduate?"

Julia nodded proudly; she had worked so hard on her education all her life, even skipping a few grades so they she could attend college with Sam. "Double major in religion and linguistics."

"That's great, I'm really proud of you, Julia," Dean said with an impressed smile; Julia beamed at him. "Don't tell Sam but I kinda wished I went to college, too."

Julia gave him a surprised look. She had never heard Dean say anything about his want for higher education, especially since he dropped out of high school. "Really?" she asked. "What would you major in?"

"Mechanical engineering, I think," Dean answered her. "I like making things and working with my hands."

"You're great at that," Julia agreed, knowing that he would had been great at his job if he had gone down that road. "Remember when you built that barbie house for me?"

Dean grinned at the memory, his cheeks slightly flushing. "That's not quite the same, Junior."

"I know that, I'm just saying," Julia rolled her eyes playfully. "You're a genius with that kind of stuff."

Dean smiled, secretly pleased with what she was saying. Sam was the smart brother and he had always been but Dean had some tricks up his sleeve, too. It was nice to have someone acknowledge that side of him. Over the years he had picked up skills and making things was one of his favorites. He had made an EMF device out of a Walkman once, which he was particularly proud of and still used.

"Guys!" Sam called from the other room, breaking Julia and Dean out of their little world. "Come here, I found more information."

Dean got up and walked back into his room, Julia rolling out of bed to follow him. Sam was at the table, his laptop in front of him. He had been on the thing for an hour or so, so she wasn't surprised to see that he had discovered something.

"So, there's the three drowning victims this year," Sam stated, bringing up the information he complied.

"Any before that?" Dean asked quickly.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered, either. If there's something out there, it's picking up its pace."

"Maybe it's picking up the pace because the lake's being drained," Julia spoke up thoughtfully.

"Might be," Sam agreed.

"So, we got a lake monster on a binge, huh," Dean said dryly, going over to sit on his bed.

Sam shook his head in disagreement. "This whole lake monster theory bugs me," he declared. He explained when Julia gave him a questioning look, "Loch Ness, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts. But here? Almost nothing."

"So, whatever's out there, no one's living to talk about it," Julia assumed.

Dean hummed in agreement and walked back over to the table, hovering over Sam to read over his shoulder. "Barr," he muttered, reading the latest drowning victim before Sophie Carlton. "Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?"

"Christopher Barr, the victim in May," Sam took a closer look at the article, scrolling further down the page. There was a picture of Lucas in the middle of the writing, bundled up in a large towel with soaked hair. "Oh, Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband and Lucas' father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating platform when Chris drowned; it was two hours before the kid got rescued."

Julia sighed sadly. "Poor little guy."

"Maybe we have an eyewitness after all," Sam scratched his head.

"No wonder that kid was so freaked out," Dean said quietly, getting Julia and Sam's attention. "Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over."

The knowing, faraway look in Dean's eyes made Julia's heart ache. Dean never talked about his mom or if he saw what actually happened to her. Julia assumed that he did, by his comment. It was hard for her to witness her mom die when she was a teenager and her mom died of something human. She couldn't imagine when Dean went through at four years old, watching his mom die because of a supernatural creature.

He was too young. No kid should have to go through something that traumatic.

Knowing that Andrea was picking up Lucas from her dad around three, Julia, Sam, and Dean headed to the park around the same time. They wanted to see if they could get anything out of Lucas without traumatizing him further and Dean had volunteered to talk to the kid while Sam and Julia spoke with his mom.

The three of them walked through the park, spotting Andrea sitting at a bench just outside of the play area. She was watching Lucas, who didn't seem like he wanted to join in on the rambunctious activities by the jungle gym. He was perfectly content to sit at a bench and color.

"Can we join you?" Julia asked Andrea as they approached the bench she was sitting on.

Andrea looked up, smiling slightly when she saw them there. "I'm here with my son."

"Oh, mind if I say hi?" Dean wondered, walking away toward Lucas before Andrea could agree to his request. Andrea didn't seem all that bothered by it, turning to Julia as she sat next to her.

"You should tell your friend that this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me," she said, amused, as they all watched Dean greet Lucas.

"I don't think that's what this is about," Sam spoke up, watching Dean thoughtfully.

"We heard about your husband," Julia said apologetically; Andrea frowned sadly. "Dean went through something similar as Lucas when he was a kid."

"Really?" Andrea looked relieved that he wasn't just talking to her son to get in her good graces.

Sam nodded. "Our mom," he explained. "I don't remember much but Dean—well, from what I heard, he didn't speak for a long while afterwards."

"I know the feeling," Andrea sighed sadly, glancing back at Lucas and Dean. "Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident."

"I'm sorry," Julia grabbed her hand and squeezed comfortingly as Dean started walking back over. "What are the doctors saying?"

"That's it's some kind of post-traumatic stress."

"That can't be easy," Sam said sympathetically; Dean coming to stand next to him. "for either of you."

"We moved in with my dad," Andrea smiled slightly. "He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went though, what he saw..."

"Kids are strong," Dean said when she trailed off. "You'd be surprised what they can deal with."

"You know, he used to have such life," Andrea smiled back at Lucas as he left his bench; Julia grinned, thinking of her niece who was as crazy as little girls get. "He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now, he just sits there, drawing those pictures and playing with those army men. I just wish—" she abruptly changed the subject as Lucas came up to them. "Hey, sweetie."

Lucas' eyes were on the ground but he held out a picture he drew for Dean. The picture was of a cabin and it was pretty good for kid his age.

"Thanks," Dean looked at with a smile. "Thanks, Lucas."

Lucas just slouched off, going back to his bench to color.

The next morning, Dean and Julia were eating the breakfast he had picked up when Sam walked back into the room. He slammed the door shut behind him and took a seat next to Dean on his bed.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie," he said dryly.

Dean gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"I just drove past the Carlton house," Sam informed them. "There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

Julia stiffened, horrified. "Did he drown?"

"Yep, in the sink."

"What the fuck?" Dean took the last bite of his breakfast sandwich. "So, you were right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else."

"What could it be?" Julia wondered.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source."

"The lake," she stated; it seemed like her assumption the day before was correct. Whatever this thing was, it wanted to get its agenda done before the lake was completely drained.

"You were right, J," Sam commented. "It explains why it's upping the body count. It's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere," Dean added, standing up and crumpling his wrapper. "This is gonna happen again soon."

"And we do know one thing for sure," Sam sighed. "This has got something to do with Bill Carlton."

"It took both of his kids," Julia hummed.

"And I've been asking around," Sam added. "Lucas' dad, Chris? He was Bill Carlton's godson."

Dean sighed and pulled on his boots. "Well, let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

Julia stayed in the car while Dean and Sam questioned Mr. Carlton, and talked to her brother, Levi, since they hadn't gotten to talk the day before. It was a nice conversation but a little awkward since they weren't the closest of siblings.

Levi and Abby were kind of loners growing up and now that Levi was an adult, he was quiet unless he was pitching meetings to the company or selling big item products. Still, Julia loved him and she was glad they got in touch. He was a little worried about her on the road and was more than a little skeptical about Dean and Sam training her as opposed to Abby or their dad but he liked the brothers so it didn't come from a bad place.

After Sam and Dean talked to Mr. Carlton—tried to talk, anyway, since the poor man didn't feel like talking—they discovered that the drawing Lucas gave Dean at the park was actually the cabin the Carltons lived. They went to Andrea's house next so Dean could talk to him and he was presented with another drawing, this time of a yellow two-story house near a church with a little stick-figure boy and a red bike.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died," Dean informed Julia and Sam as they rode around town, searching for the yellow house in the drawing.

Honestly, this case was hitting close to home for all of them—but mostly for Dean and Julia. For Dean, he could see himself in the little boy; his parent died and he stopped speaking out of grief. For Julia, besides the fact that Lucas shared her dad's name, it was he that knew things that other people wouldn't always know.

Julia knew how that felt; all her life she knew of things that would just randomly pop into her head and, of course, she had the bad feelings she got once in a while, like with Dean and Sam. It would scare her in the beginning, to see her family look at her in confusion—like how she stated the day before the news broke about President Clinton that he was going to be on trial—but she never thought of herself as a freak. To her knowledge, her family didn't, either.

"There are cases—" Sam sighed doubtfully. "going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies..."

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" Dean asked; Sam made an uncommitted sound that made him stiffen. "I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please."

"It wouldn't hurt, Sam," Julia spoke up. "You know that sometimes these things happen."

"All right," Sam gave into the pressure Dean and Julia were putting on him. "we got another house to find."

"The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone," Dean grumbled.

Julia hummed and leaned forward, studying the drawing on Sam's lap. "What about the church?"

"True," Sam agreed. "I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

"Ooh, college kids," Dean teased them playfully. "you think you're so smaht, huh?"

Sam laughed and Julia joined in, pushing Dean's shoulder before sitting back in her seat.

They drove around the town, looking for the churches in the area. They had already looked at four of them when they came across a white church, almost identical to the drawing Lucas gave Dean. Right across the street happened to be a yellow two-story.

Dean and Sam nodded at each other before the three of them walked up to the house and knocked on the door. An old woman answered the door, looking at them in confusion. She let them in without a word—and introduced herself as Helen Sweeney—so apparently they passed her silent test. Or she was just a sweet lady who didn't think any harm would come to her in a small town like Manitoc Lake.

"We're sorry to bother, ma'am, but does a little boy live here, by chance?" Dean asked her politely. "He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle."

"No, sir," Mrs. Sweeney said sadly. "Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now," she glanced at an old picture of an adolescent boy sitting on the nearest table. "The police never—I never had any idea of what happened. He just disappeared."

Julia pressed her lips together sadly and looked around Mrs. Sweeney's home. It looked like a shrine to her lost son. There were a bunch of pictures, toys, balls, and even some small green army men just like the ones they saw Lucas playing with.

"Losing him," Mrs. Sweeney shook her head slowly. "you know, it's...it's worse than dying."

Dean and Sam gave each other a pointed look—that was the exact phrase that Bill Carlton had used when talking about his recently-deceased children.

"Mrs. Sweeney," Julia gave her a gentle smile, keeping her voice soft. "Did Peter disappear from the house?"

Mrs. Sweeney shook her head. "He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school but he never showed up."

Julia gave her a sympathetic smile and helped her sit down before offering to get her a glass of water. As she disappeared into the kitchen, Mrs. Sweeney allowed Sam and Dean to look around.

Dean spotted a picture of Peter and another little boy in a mirror hung on the way. He studied it and then turned it over to read the writing on the back.

"Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen-seventy," he muttered.

With the realization that the whole situation with Peter Sweeney going missing and being somehow connected to Bill Carlton, the three of them left shortly after Julia came back into the room with a glass of water for Mrs. Sweeney.

Sam, Julia, and Dean theorized that Bill must have killed Peter when he was a little boy and was now going after Bill Carlton. First, he killed Bill's children so that he would know the pain his mother went through when he went missing and then he'd take Bill for himself. As they raced to Bill Carlton's house, they knew Peter had gotten his revenge.

Bill had gone out onto the lake with his small motorized boat and in the middle of it; the boat flipped over on a very small wave that came out of nowhere and Bill plunged into the lake. He didn't resurface.

Julia, Dean, and Sam were led into the police station by Jake for questioning about Bill's death. It was suspicious to the sheriff that they just so happened to be at Bill's cabin at the same time as his boat flipped over.

Andrea and Lucas were waiting for Jake with a bucket of fried chicken when they walked into the building. She looked up in surprise when she saw them trailing behind her father.

"Sam, Dean, Julia," she furrowed her eyebrows and stood up. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"So, now you're on a first-name basis?" Jake asked her. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you dinner."

"Sorry, sweetheart," Jake apologized. "I don't really have the time."

Andrea glanced at Julia, Dean, and Sam before looking back at her father. "I heard about Bill Carlton," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

"Right now, we don't know what the truth is but I think it might be better if you and Lucas went home," Jake advised.

Lucas looked absolutely panicked at the thought of leaving the station. He jumped out of his chair and ran to Dean. He whimpered as he frantically clutched Dean's arm, tugging at him.

"Lucas, hey, what is it?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Lucas?" Andrea asked uncertainly.

"Lucas, it's okay," Dean comforted the little boy, making Julia's heart ache and melt at the sight—he was damn good with kids. "It's okay, Lucas. It's okay."

Andrea pulled Lucas away from Dean and Lucas let go with a reluctant and stricken face. Andrea silently led him out of the station, giving her dad as hesitant look as they went. Lucas looked back at Dean with fear the whole time he walked away.

Uncomfortable, Jake slipped off his jacket and threw it onto the chair at the front desk. He walked into his office and the others followed him, knowing that they were going to be questioned now.

"Okay, just so I'm clear," Jake sighed heavily, sinking into his chair. "you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the water and you never see him again?

Dean glanced at Julia and Sam before looking back at him. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

"And I'm supposed to believe this even though I've already sonar-swept the entire lake?" Jake asked skeptically. "And what you're describing is impossible? And the fact that you're not really Wildlife Service?"

Julia's face fell in surprise. It wouldn't be far out to think that Dean and Sam felt the same way.

"That's right," Jake observed their expressions. "I checked. The department's never heard of you three."

Dean hastily started to make an excuse. "See, now, we can explain that."

"Enough," Jake snapped. "The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here."

Julia pressed her lips together; she really didn't like this guy.

"I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as a material witness to Bill's Carlton's disappearance," Jake listed, pointing a finger in their faces. "Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get in your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

Sam spoke up before Dean's temper and Julia's indignance got them into more trouble. "Door number two sounds good."

"That's the one I'd pick," Jake nodded harshly.

Julia, Sam, and Dean quickly took their leave, making a quick pit stop back at the motel to grab their things and check out. Dean was quiet as they loaded up the Impala and got some gas and when they pulled up to a red light that would lead them out of town and toward Milwaukee, he didn't move when the light turned green.

"Green," Sam drawled, getting Dean's attention.

"What?"

"The light's green."

Dean waited a few seconds before pressing the gas. He turned right, pulling onto the road that would bring them back into town.

"Uh, the interstate's the other way," Sam pointed out flatly.

"I know," Dean didn't seem to care.

Julia was glad that they were going back. They may have thought that only Bill Carlton and his family were connected to this but Lucas was so scared when his grandfather told him and his mom to leave the station. He had practically anchored himself to Dean before Andrea got him to let go. He was terrified and with all the correct signs he'd given them before, why wouldn't they believe him now?

"Dean, I think this job is over," Sam tried to get Dean to act rationally.

Dean shook his head firmly. "I'm not so sure."

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed," Sam pointed out. "The spirit should be at rest."

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done?" Dean asked him. "You know, what if we've missing something? What if more people get hurt?"

Sam gave him a weird look. "Why would you think that?"

Dean pressed his lips together and Julia spoke up in his defense. "Sam, Lucas looked really scared..."

Sam glanced back at her and, when she subtly nodded in Dean's direction, he looked back at his brother with wide eyes. "That's what this is about?"

"I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay," Dean declared firmly.

"Who are you?" Sam scoffed in amusement. "and what have you done with my brother?"

Dean glared at him. "Shut up."

"Dean, just admit you like kids," Julia rolled her eyes playfully.

"You shut up, too."

It was a good thing that Dean was so stubborn about going back to check on Lucas because, when they got to the Barr residence, Andrea was being drowned by Peter's spirit in the bathtub. Julia and Sam pulled her to safety while Dean held Lucas back from harm but it was still scary for the both of them.

It was when Dean discovered that Jake had been friends with Peter Sweeney and Bill Carlton that Lucas ran out of their house and pointed to a patch of dirt out by the lake. When Sam and Dean dug up Peter's red bicycle, Jake had arrived and threatened them with a gun.

It went quickly after that; Dean had confronted Jake about helping Bill Carlton kill Peter Sweeney and Jake admitted that it was an accident and they left the body go in the lake. Lucas was lured into the lake by Peter and Jake surrendered to the spirit in order to save his grandson.

Despite losing Jake, they were able to save Lucas and Andrea.

Dean was melancholy all morning the day after, still sulking about the fact that Jake had been killed by Peter. Julia was sad to see him so down on himself when he was the main person who kept Lucas and Andrea safe—he believed in Lucas and he made sure they stayed in town to protect them.

Sam noticed the same thing as Julia. "Look," he sighed as he slung his and Julia's bags into the trunk. "we're not gonna save everybody."

Dean nodded. "I know."

"Turn that frown upside-down, Bean," Julia used her childhood nickname for him and reached up, playfully poking his chin. The corners of his lips lifted even though he swatted her hand away from his face. "You guys saved Andrea and Lucas. That's what matters."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..."

"Sam, Dean, Julia!" Andrea called as she and Lucas ran up to them.

"Hey," Dean grinned at her.

"We're glad we caught you," Andrea declared. "We just, uh, we made you lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches for himself."

"That's super sweet of you, Lucas," Julia gave him a sweet smile.

Lucas smiled sheepishly and looked up at his mom. "Can I give it to them now?"

Julia's eyes widened when she heard Lucas speak and let out a small huff of relief. She could tell by the look in Andrea's eyes that she was so relieved to see her son back to his old self.

"Of course," Andrea kissed his head.

"Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car," Dean gestured the kid over to the Impala.

When they were out of hearing range, Sam turned to Andrea. "How are you holding up?"

"It's gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?" Andrea smiled sadly.

Sam sighed apologetically. "Andrea, I'm sorry."

Andrea shook her head. "You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me and he loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold onto that."

Julia grinned at her. "You're very wise, you know? You remind me of my mom."

Sam gave his best friend a sad smile and wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulder. Andrea gave her a grateful look and Julia was surprised when she pulled both her and Sam into a hug. If it had been a different life, she could really see herself being friends with Andrea.

The three of them walked over to the Impala, where Dean was sitting in the backseat so he was down at Lucas' level.

"All right," they overheard him say to Lucas. "if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase. So, I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!" Lucas exclaimed.

"That's right!" Dean grinned and held up his hand for a high-five. "Up high."

Lucas slapped his hand against Dean's. It was all very cute.

"You take care of your mom, okay?" Dean told Lucas seriously.

Lucas nodded. "All right."

Dean stood up when he noticed that Julia, Sam, and Andrea were watching them. Surprisingly, Andrea pulled Dean into a short kiss to show her thanks that had Sam and Julia raising their eyebrows at each other in amusement.

"Thank you," Andrea whispered as she pulled away from him.

Dean stared at her for a second before awkwardly scratching his head. "Sam, Jules, move your asses," he told Sam and Julia as he walked around to the driver's side. "We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

He was being dramatic since it was ten in the morning but Sam and Julia indulged him. It was clear that he was feeling uncharacteristically awkward from the kiss Andrea gave him and it was all kinds of endearing.

Julia gave Andrea and Lucas a final smile. "You two be safe."

What was left of the Barr family agreed as she slipped into the backseat. They waved as Dean drove off, his music blasting loudly.

"Hero gets the girl," Julia sighed, leaning her chin on the front seat. "and the other two get ham sandwiches and bananas."

Sam chuckled while Dean rolled his eyes in amusement.

"I'll eat your sandwiches if you don't shut up."

"Touch them and die, bitch."

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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thatboomerkid · 5 years ago

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RIFT

RIFT is an obscure Discipline -- rare in the extreme, born of anguish & remorse, sharpened through tear-streaked centuries of nightly struggle against the most obscene appetites -- that allows practitioners of its weird, flagellant art-form to coalesce their Beast into a quasi-living, sentient Umbral Realm bound eternally to their shadow: a sprawling, labyrinthine nightmare-dimension.

Through this monstrous realm, the Damned may walk.

And in this place, other things -- ancient things, titanic, hungry and inhuman -- soar corpse-pale skies lit by rotting, pulsating black stars, and dive through creaking forests of twisted-iron atrocity rising from endless oceans of blood.

Rift is an updated Discipline designed for use with Vampire: the Masquerade 20th Anniversary Edition, inspired by content from A World of Darkness (First Edition, 1992).

Brought to you absolutely free to enjoy, to test & to share – as always – by the fine folks of my Patreon.

If you enjoy this content and would like to see more dark, modern horror game-material by the author, the Bloodlines & Black Magic Kickstarter is going on right now.

Hugest of thanks to John Miętus for his invaluable editing-assistance and development during the creation of this fan-content.

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HISTORY

In the long black centuries between the rise of the Baali from their cursed organ-pit and the ascendance of House Tremere to majestic undeath, it is known that Saulot performed innumerable private pilgrimages to far-flung, moonlit realms in an eternal, fruitless search for the enlightened state whispered of as Golconda.

Some occult scholars claim that, in desperation, the Antediluvian sat silently for several decades at the feet of Shinbutsu-shūgō masters, wreathed in holy incense, the toll of tsurigane and a coil of unending thirst: contemplating the infinite sins of his undying lineage, reflecting upon his Heaven-ordained duty to his Progenitor and seeking to divest himself of all worldly attachment.

If so, it is possible that his incalculable and fathomless meditations produced the first echo of what would come to be known in later millennia as Rift.

Whether this is truth or mere fabrication, students of esoteric history trace the first known demonstrations of the Rift Discipline to a nomadic brood of Malkavians calling themselves ‘Gaki’ -- or ‘Hungry Ghosts’ -- who hunted the Silk Road during the 8th century. These wandering, blood-drenched emperors of jade & dust claim to have been taught the technique by a wandering Far-Eastern mystic who bore a shining third eye upon his brow & spoke in koan-like riddles about the Ten-Thousand Hells awaiting the Children of Caine.

The Gaki Bloodline

Rumors persist that a true bloodline of Malkavians -- or Malkavian Antitribu -- eventually emerged from among the far-wandering Gaki coteries, and that the eerie bloodline persists into the modern nights; a minority of Gehenna researchers claim that a cabal of such creatures were active in Tokyo as recently as the 1970s, drifting silently through the long, smog-shrouded neon shadows of that vast metropolis in search of fresh-spilt blood.

If there is any truth to these claims, those of the Gaki Bloodline suffer the full Derangement weakness of their parent clan; in addition, their perceptions are twisted by their hunger: when a Gaki is down to a number of Blood Points lower than her Humanity or Path rating, her world fades into a sinister & ghostly sea of potential victims, immediate physical threats, drifting fog and the whispers of the kumonosu. During this time, she is unable to focus on any other input -- such as traffic lights, the distant sound of gunfire or whether she’s standing in an apartment, on the street or in a fetish-club -- unless she expends a point of Willpower to shake off the unreal cloak of her hallucinations for the remainder of the scene.

The Gaki possess the Bloodline Disciplines of Auspex, Obfuscate and Rift.

Elder members of the Bloodline are known to have traded extensively in ancient nights with far-voyaging Gangrel of the Silk Road, and often possess some combination of Animalism (for use in controlling the Beast), Fortitude (for use in surviving botched Courage rolls when evoking Rift) and Protean (for general use in traveling the winding paths of the world in safety).

Since that time, the Discipline has vanished and resurfaced repeatedly, passed from master to apprentice; in these Final Nights, it is as likely to be practiced by a Nosferatu neonate dwelling in the gutters beneath a methadone clinic as it is to be wielded by a salon of elder Toreador Antitrubu who make an art of their own grandiose self-destruction.

The technique is very quietly forbidden within the Camarilla, as a pair of recurring themes amongst those who practice the art-form are a fondness for Diablerie and a penchant for experimentation in Dark Thaumaturgy ... although knowledge of the art is also -- somewhat surprisingly -- kept in secret among several coteries of particularly puritanical Josian devil-hunters.

REQUIREMENTS

Rift may only be taught by another, more-experienced master of the art-form. It cannot be learned from demons, spirits or other non-Kindred tutors. It cannot be gained at Character Creation nor selected as a Caitiff Discipline or Additional Discipline (pg. 494) unless explicitly approved by the Storyteller.

Once a Kindred has a greater number of dots in Rift than she possesses in any other Discipline, she may thereafter instruct herself in the Discipline through meditation; after this time, she no longer requires a tutor.

A Kindred may only possess a total score in Rift equal to one half the total number of points of Humanity she has lost since her Embrace.

Thus, a Kindred may not gain her first dot of Rift until she has lost at least 2 points of Humanity. If she wishes to gain a second dot in Rift, she must have lost at least 4 points in Humanity.

An elder who wishes to gain her sixth dot in Rift must, therefore, have lost at least 12 points in Humanity over her long, blood-splattered unlife.

In addition, upon gaining her first dot in Rift, the practitioner of this art gains the Nightmares Flaw (pg 485). She gains no bonus points of any kind for accepting this Flaw. If she already possesses Nightmares, the novice practitioner of Rift must instead select another Mental Flaw -- such as Deep Sleeper or Lunacy -- as deemed appropriate by the Storyteller, representative of her new reality: each time she slumbers, she is pulled deep into her own Rift to experience the most grotesque of tortures at the hands of her Beast ... and all its victims.

Note that proficiency in Rift is in no way dependent upon a vampire’s current Humanity total: a vampire with a Humanity of 10 could freely learn & utilize five full dots worth of Rift, so long as she had lost at least 10 points of Humanity at some point in her past.

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PHILOSOPHY

Rift is, fundamentally, about grief & regret.

It is about falling into the Abyss. It is about witnessing yourself lose the grand, shadow-draped chess-match against your own ravening Beast in a slow, ugly war of attrition. It is about shame, sorrow & self-reproach. It is about confronting your own subconscious desire to be punished for your sins, watering this garden with blood, and allowing the tangled forest of self-hatred to grow wild, dark & unchecked. It is about accepting one’s own damnation and the personal hell that comes with it, facing-down your worst fear wrought in a storm of ash & flame, and dying -- torn into a thousand screaming fragments -- over and over and over again.

It is about what awaits you in the dark, whether at the end of another blood-slick night of terror or at the final, jagged end of a squandered immortality.

On the surface, of course, Rift is about bridging the world of flesh to the nightmare realm, dancing along the weirding way between them with a twist of will & blood, flaunting the crude, limited physics of this concrete universe.

And, up to a point, it is that as well.

For these reasons, tutoring a potential student in Rift is prohibitively difficult.

For one, it is near-impossible for an instructor to gauge how much torment their would-be apprentice has already endured. Has this supplicant to the power you wield already begun to feel her soul & sanity crumble, crawling her way back up with broken fingers from the awful precipice of the gaping, blood-slick pit?

Or is she a mere pretender to such evil?

If she has not yet begun to grow her own Rift & populate the personal hell that she will soon steal-into like a thief, how do you tell an apprentice “go now, and commit atrocities, that you might regret them later?”

How do you remind her that the Beast is ever hungry, that it feasts with cold delight in the deep blackness upon those who would seek to dance around it?

Most Kindred simply do not possess the temperament to master Rift, and it is all but unknown among those who walk a Path of Enlightenment.

SYSTEM

Much like Obfuscate, Rift requires no expenditure of Vitae to activate its power. It requires concentration and cannot be used in Frenzy.

In addition, it is -- in theory -- quite a subtle power, with few obvious effects visible to the outside observer.

Any use of Rift automatically causes all mundane and electronic recording equipment within line of sight of the practitioner to glitch-out for a split-second; a video-camera cannot capture an image of hell by training on the Damned, instead recording only a few frames of static & distortion.

However, a practitioner of the Discipline must always first attempt a Courage roll whenever she channels the nightmare of her own private damnation; attempting this roll does not require an action, and the Difficulty of this roll is always equal to 4 + the level of the Discipline power to be activated.

DECLARING INTENT

Whenever a Damned chooses to activate any ability of the Rift discipline, she must specify exactly what level of the Discipline she intends to use. She cannot, for example, activate Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge and then -- once within her Rift -- decide to activate Dance of Unstable Nightmares unless she immediately attempts an additional Courage roll.

If this roll is unsuccessful, one of the following three things occurs:

the ability fails, as the Damned -- at the last moment -- draws back in terror from the eternity of suffering she has built for herself, brick by blazing & razor-wreathed brick.

the Damned may expend a point of Willpower, forcing open the gateway between worlds through sheer desperation.

the roll is a Botch, which has special rules noted below.

If the practitioner chooses to force the power of her Rift upon the unsuspecting world in this way, the effects of her Discipline are Obscene, as noted below.

A practitioner of Rift may always choose to voluntarily fail her Courage roll (no roll required), expend her Willpower and unleash her Rift in a wave of Obscenity, if she so desires.

If the Courage roll is Botched, the practitioner is consumed in a wave of horror & nightmare-flame emanating from the Rift bound to her. This deals a number of levels of Aggravated damage equal to the level of the Discipline power to be activated.

This damage may be soaked as normal (via Fortitude).

This damage is additionally reduced by one level for each religious item or icon the Damned carries; these items are destroyed utterly when the raw power of her unleashed Rift tears through her: silver crosses are deformed into unrecognizable twists of tarnish & rust, wooden prayer-beads blaze for a single moment with unholy fire before being reduced to greasy ash, and earrings emblazoned with the Sacred Heart shatter into splinters of smoking ruin with a bitter scream and a waft of brimstone.

The Damned may carry a total number of such items or icons equal to her Humanity score. These items must be worn or carried for at least 24 hours before they may be sacrificed in this way.

Note that religious items carried by the practitioner of Rift must match the faith (if any) of the Damned: atheist Kindred cannot benefit from them at all, and most creatures cannot gain the benefits of both a Star of David and a Holy Rosary at the same time.

Members of the Gaki Bloodline, famously, were the exception to that rule: true Universal Polytheists, they adorned themselves with sacred items from every culture they encountered, practicing as many good-luck & purification rituals as they could learn in an eternal mania to ward-off evil.

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LEVEL ONE:

Echo of Hells: Upon activating this technique, the practitioner of Rift chooses any one creature who likewise suffers the hunger of an undying Beast; she may communicate silently with that individual for the remainder of the scene.

This creature must be within line-of-sight to the Damned for contact to be established (but see below).

All attempts to communicate with this creature are automatically successful unless the other Damned chooses to block such contact; a Howl of the Devil-Tiger Kuei-jin who speaks only Early Middle Japanese may choose to ignore the alien whispers of a Western undead channeling the screams of her Rift, but their communication otherwise surpasses all language barriers.

If the Damned chooses to communicate with a fellow practitioner of the Rift Discipline who is known intimately to her, this communication may be performed over any distance; she must know the name, face, scent, touch and taste of her partner before communication may be joined in this way.

This technique, at the Storyteller’s discretion, may be used to communicate with creatures including ghouls, as they are subject to Frenzy, as well as Black Spiral Dancers, Nephandi, Formori and Risen but it cannot -- for the most part -- otherwise be used to communicate with mortals.

Obscene: If this technique is unleashed as Obscene, all creatures within ten feet of the chosen target hear a cacophony of discordant & hideous whispers emanating from the target for as long as your communication lasts.

Unlike more potent gifts of this Discipline, mere exposure to this technique is not enough to harm flesh.

LEVEL TWO:

Unveil Damnation: By use of this technique, the practitioner of Rift may draw another into her shadow-realm of eternal agony, if only for a moment, forcing her target to bear witness to the vampire’s private hell ... and to endure, for the space of a mortal heartbeat, its myriad torments.

This is a fully-immersive psychic onslaught: the victim cannot avoid this experience by averting her eyes, nor by covering her ears and screaming, although many creatures will instinctively attempt to do so.

ON THE TEN-THOUSAND HELLS

It is known that each Rift opens upon a different realm of perfect suffering, each uniquely tailored by the Beast of the Damned to accentuate the fear, shame, violence, frustration, guilt, trauma and horror they have endured ... and perpetuated, returned onto them a thousand-fold.

Before a player may gain any levels in the Rift Discipline, she must be able to describe to her Storyteller the basic nature of her particular damnation: one might be a breathtakingly beautiful rain-drenched forest, with a different victim of the Damned crucified upon each tree, through which she is chased in nightmare by the flaming corpses of all those she has Diablerized; another Rift might open into an endless, boiling desert of black sand, pillars of salt, coils of rusted razor-wire and pits of jagged glass shards, watched-over eternally by seven hateful, cataract bio-luminescent spheres roiling across the bruise-colored sky in a chorus of screams.

A Storyteller should work closely with her player to help detail this realm, drawing from the character’s misdeeds, phobias and failures.

This ability functions identically to the Level 2 Presence ability Dread Gaze (see page 194) with the following adjustments:

The Damned rolls Perception + Awareness to determine her success with this ability rather than Charisma + Intimidation.

This is not a Presence ability and is thus not subject to defenses such as Pavis of Foul Presence (pg. 236).

The victim of this technique may immediately attempt a Perception + Empathy roll (Difficulty equal to the practitioner’s current Willpower). If this roll is successful, she gains deep insight into the Nature, Demeanor, psychology and morality of the Rift-practitioner; at Storyteller discretion, this may give the victim an advantage against the Damned in later scenes or allow her to predict the Rift-practitioner’s next move.

Obscene: If this technique is unleashed as Obscene, all creatures within ten feet of the intended target bear witness to the same flash of utter horror ... and are thus subject to the effect of the ability (although the Difficulty to terrify these additional targets is doubled from its base; the Damned rolls Perception + Awareness separately for each target). Each target, as normal, may attempt a Perception + Empathy roll to analyze the tormented inner psyche of the Rift-practitioner.

In addition, the initial target of this ability suffers one level of lethal damage from exposure to such horror; the Difficulty to soak this damage is equal to 2 + the level of the Discipline used (see below).

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LEVEL THREE:

Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge: By use of this technique, the Damned may depart the world and physically enter her own Rift, vanishing as she steps backwards into her own shadow.

The Damned is invisible & intangible while hidden within her Rift, but she may be observed as an eerie, discolored silhouette in empty space by any outside observer scanning the area with Auspex or a similar supernatural perception ability.

She may only carry clothing, keepsakes, one-handed weapons and other small personal items with her when she steps into her Rift in this way; she may not carry other creatures with her, nor anything that requires more than one hand to hold. Any object too large, heavy or bulky to be carried across (subject to Storyteller discretion) is simply dropped at her feet in the world of the living when the Damned steps into her own Rift in this way.

Experienced practitioners of Rift can often instinctively guess what objects are too large to be carried across in this way, and are rarely surprised at being stripped of their held possessions when evoking this technique.

The Damned may choose to leave items within the realm of her private hell and retrieve them later.

At the conclusion of each turn spent in her personal hell, the Damned must succeed at a Courage roll with a Difficulty equal to her Conscience. Upon failing this roll, she returns to the night-lit world of the living. She may always choose to return of her own volition before failing this roll. Returning from her private hell does not require an action.

The Damned is always aware of what occurs directly on the other side of the veil between worlds -- in the space she previously occupied -- and may gaze out of her personal hell to observe the world beyond without any roll.

The Damned always returns to the living world in the same spot from which she departed, stepping back into the space she previously occupied.

Obscene: If this technique is unleashed as Obscene, the depths of the practitioner’s personal hell are briefly visible for all to see as the Damned steps backwards; all creatures who witness the Damned vanish are subject to the Obscene version of the Level 2 Rift ability Unveil Damnation, as above. In addition, the Damned leaves residue from her private hell on all surfaces with which she was in-contact when this technique is activated, potentially marking the floor upon which she stood with foul rain-water, drifts of ashen rust or tiny shards of gore-caked bone, glass and ceramic tile.

The practitioner of Rift may choose a single target within her line of sight when she uses this Unveil Damnation ability to be the initial or “intended” target of the ability. She must stare directly at that single target when this technique is activated.

LEVEL FOUR:

Dance of Unstable Nightmares: When the Damned exits her Rift, she may choose to reappear in any place in the living world that she can see clearly.

Thus, she might return to the world standing atop a building visible from her previous location, but not on the other side of a locked door.

Obscene: As Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge, above, except that the Damned additionally brings residue from her private hell with her when she exits that hideous realm, marking her passage in two places.

LEVEL FIVE:

Call-Forth the Majestic Nightmare: When the Damned enters her Rift, an entity from deep within her Rift is pulled into the night-lit world of the living; this creature immediately occupies the space vacated by the Rift-practitioner.

This entity is the true Beast of the Damned made manifest in flesh. Its specific appearance is left to the player and her Storyteller to decide, although it is always visually identifiable as -- at least in some way -- similar to the Damned who summoned it up from her personal Wheel of Punishment. It also bears an uncanny resemblance to any creature diablerized by the Rift-practitioner.

The entity possesses statistics identical to the Damned, with the following differences:

The entity is always in Frenzy and has a Humanity of 0. If the entity ever leaves Frenzy, it immediately vanishes.

The entity gains all the benefits of Black Metamorphosis (pg 189), Horrid Form (pg. 242), The Form of the Cobra (pg. 210) or a similar physical enhancement effect (such as the Fractura ability of Striga), as chosen by the Storyteller.

The entity is not bound in any way to creatures who hold a Blood Bond over the Damned, nor is it subject to similar emotional restraint or control (as adjudicated by the Storyteller).

The entity will preferentially target anything it sees as a threat to the Damned that created it, and will always attempt to murder anything that attacks it.

Once its safety is secured, the entity turns its abhorrent attentions to the living world. The entity hates the practitioner of Rift who called it forth and seeks to cripple & disfigure all that the Damned holds dear, targeting allies & friends of the Damned if it is able (although it does not attempt to destroy them outright).

In any instance, the entity revels in utter destruction.

When the practitioner of Rift returns to the world, the entity vanishes.

Any blood consumed by the entity is wasted when it vanishes.

Obscene: As Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge, above, except that the nightmare entity constantly drips (or sheds) matter from the depths of the practitioner’s private hell, leaving a trail of horror as it rampages.

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Cross the Nightmare Bridge: When the Damned chooses to enter her own Rift, as per the Level 3 technique of this Discipline, she may remain within that nightmare realm for an indefinite period of time (no Courage roll required). She must slumber, as normal, when sunlight falls on the living world beyond, and her thirst grows nightly: there is no blood to drink within the confines of her hell.

If the Damned falls into torpor while beyond the borders of her Rift, she falls backwards out of her own shadow and returns physically to the living world.

She is otherwise free to explore the boundless realm of her eternal damnation as she pleases.

Obscene: As Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge, above.

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DEVELOPER’S NOTE:

Unlike the majority of Disciplines, Rift allows access to two distinct Level 5 powers. Access to these two different abilities is treated identically to Elder Disciplines such as Karmic Sight and Mirror Reflexes (pg. 140-141).

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image from here

LEVEL SIX:

Distend & Evacuate the Nightmare Hoard: By use of this technique, the Damned may deposit any inanimate object held in-hand into her Rift; the object seemingly vanishes, like a card disappearing in a display of slight-of-hand. Only an object that might be transported via Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge may be relocated into the depths of a private hell in this way.

The Damned may likewise draw-forth any object deposited into her private hell.

Obscene: If this technique is unleashed as Obscene, the item enters or exits the Rift in a wave of unhealthy matter from the depths of nightmare, dripping bits of a private hell into the waking world. An item drawn from the Rift in an Obscene way radiates palpable, toxic waves of this energy, and deals 1 level of Lethal damage to any creature (except the Damned) touching it within the next minute. The Difficulty to soak this damage is equal to 2 + the level of the Discipline used (see below).

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Sinister Winds of Unstable Nightmare: By use of this technique, the Damned may choose to deposit any waking-world object held within her private hell in a location she can see. Targeting a particularly specific location with the object -- such as ‘the small space between my opponent’s glasses and his eyes’ -- when the object emerges requires a Perception + Occult roll, Difficulty 7.

Obscene: As Distend & Evacuate the Nightmare Hoard, above.

LEVEL SEVEN:

Covetous Eyes of the Nightmare Thief: By use of this technique, the Damned may deposit any unattended inanimate object within her line of sight into her Rift. Only an object that might be transported via Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge may be relocated into the depths of a private hell in this way.

Obscene: As Distend & Evacuate the Nightmare Hoard, above.

Doorway Out of Hell: By use of this technique, the Damned may establish a permanent physical exit from her Rift into the living world, usable only by her. This portal requires only a moment to establish: the Damned must touch an open, bounded doorway or archway of any kind -- such as a torii gate or a closet door in the home of her ghoul -- and expend a permanent Willpower. The Damned may always choose to exit her Rift through this doorway, rather than returning to the world at the spot she entered her private hell, or at a point in space within line of sight (as per Dance of Unstable Nightmares).

This doorway may not be used to enter the Rift.

The Damned may posses a total number of doorways out of her Rift equal to her Humanity or Path rating. The Damned may dismiss any doorway she has created at any time, from any location, without effort.

Obscene: If this technique is enacted as Obscene, the enchanted doorway leaks hideous drifts of matter & energy from the depths of the practitioner’s personal hell; this miasma marks the area around the doorway, twisting the local environment into something eerie, nightmarish and haunted. Any living creature that dwells within the area surrounding the doorway must succeed at a Willpower roll (Difficulty 7) at the end of each 24 hour period or gain a temporary Derangement; these Derangements stack. All Derangements gained in this way fade when the mortal spends at least 24 hours outside of the environment surrounding the doorway. If this Willpower roll is botched, the Derangement is permanent.

LEVEL EIGHT:

Pull of Nightmare: By use of this technique, the Damned can forcibly draw an unwilling creature into her Rift as she enters; the Damned must first touch the target, requiring a Dexterity + Athletics or Brawl roll if this action is performed in combat. A creature touched by the practitioner when she steps into her own nightmare realm may oppose this pull with a Willpower roll (Difficulty 7); her successes are opposed by the practitioner’s Manipulation + Brawl roll (Difficulty equal to the target’s Humanity or Path rating + 2).

A creature pulled into the practitioner’s Rift in this way is immediately exposed to the effects of a targeted Unveil Damnation; she can attempt to push herself out of the Rift (Willpower roll, Difficulty 6) at the end of each round spent within the nightmare realm. The Difficulty of this Willpower roll decreases by one at the end of each round. If the victim botches a Willpower roll of this type, she gains a permanent Derangement.

The victim is otherwise trapped in a hostile alien environment, alone with the Rift-practitioner. The victim is not aware of what occurs on the other side of the veil between worlds and cannot gaze out of hell to observe the world beyond.

If the Damned chooses to exit her private hell, the victim is immediately shunted back the world of the living. The Damned may choose to deposit the victim in any legal location for her to exit the Rift: she might dump the victim through a Doorway Out of Hell or in any location visible from her current position.

The Damned may choose to exit the Rift in a different location, and she may choose to send her victim back early at any time as a free action.

Obscene: As Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge, above.

Fling Wide the Embrace of Hell: By use of this technique, the Damned may allow a willing entity access to her private hell. She must expend a point of Willpower while touching her ally; the two may then enter her Rift together. A creature pulled into the practitioner’s Rift in this way is immediately exposed to the effects of a targeted Unveil Damnation.

The Damned may choose, when she returns to the living world, to leave her ally behind -- within the Rift -- for any length of time, although the nightmare realm does not contain the necessary resources to sustain life: it lacks potable water and edible food, among other amenities.

A living creature held in the Rift must succeed at a Willpower roll (Difficulty 7) at the end of each 24 hour period or gain a temporary Derangement; these Derangements stack. All Derangements gained in this way fade when the mortal spends at least 24 hours outside of the Rift. If this Willpower roll is botched, the Derangement is instead permanent.

A creature brought into the Rift can only be subsequently removed from the Rift by the Damned who brought her in; the visitor must be touching the Damned when the Rift-practitioner exits back to the living world.

The Damned may have a total number of visitors dwelling within her Rift equal to her Humanity or Path rating.

Obscene: As Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge, above.

image from here

LEVEL NINE:

Imprison Within Eternal Nightmare: Whenever the Damned successfully draws a target into her private hell via Pull of Nightmare, the effect is permanent: the victim does not automatically exit the nightmare-realm when the Damned returns to the world of the living, nor does she receive any additional Willpower rolls to push herself free.

The victim may only exit the Rift when the Damned chooses to release her.

Rumors persist, of course, of powerful rescue-parties successfully invading the Rift of a Methuselah, but these tales are likely just that: mere legend.

The Damned may have a total number of prisoners caught within her Rift equal to her Humanity or Path rating.

Obscene: As Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge, above.

Manifest the Atrocity-Leviathan: The Rift of a true ancient is vast, containing multitudinous continents of horrors, hung like pulsating iridescent tumors in an ever-shifting constellation of depravity, sadism and self-hatred, laced-through with vast coils of razor-wire & city-sized shards of ichor-drenched obsidian.

Things -- unholy and undying things, born under no sane stars, armored and adorned with horrid & fleshy scribbles of frothing-mad blasphemies -- begin to breed in the shadowed places beneath that kaleidoscope of rotting, rust-caked punishment-houses. By means of this technique, such a monstrosity may be briefly loosed upon the living world.

This ability functions identically to Call Forth the Majestic Nightmare except that the entity summoned-up, rather than possessing statistics identical to the Damned, is something more terrible still.

It is left to the Storyteller’s discretion as to what terror of flesh or spirit could possibly prove more dangerous than an insane 4th-Generation vampire backed into a corner, but the Storyteller is advised to use her most wicked imagination in crafting such a cataclysm ... and not to shy away from true cosmic horror.

Obscene: As Step Upon the Nightmare Bridge, above.

Rift is an updated Discipline designed for use with Vampire: the Masquerade 20th Anniversary Edition, inspired by content from A World of Darkness (First Edition, 1992).

Brought to you absolutely free to enjoy, to test & to share – as always – by the fine folks of my Patreon.

If you enjoy this content and would like to see more dark, modern horror game-material by the author, the Bloodlines & Black Magic Kickstarter is going on right now.

Hugest of thanks to John Miętus for his invaluable editing-assistance and development during the creation of this fan-content.

#vampire the masquerade #discipline #urban #modern #horror #bloodlines and black magic #old world of darkness #v20

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fantasychica37 · 5 years ago

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More reasons for a Steven Universe and Undertale crossover

- Pearl and Toriel cook together and Pearl finds food she likes to eat - monster food, which doesn’t require digestion - and she and Amethyst like to do the same activity for once, and you can even turn things like engine oil into monster food and Amethyst can finally introduce Steven to the joys of eating garbage!

- Frisk & Steven just open up embassies in the same building to save time; disgruntled humans can’t tell the difference between the magical beings from underground and the magical beings from outer space anyway (despite the detailed explanation in the automated phone answering service directory)

- Frisk and Onion like to hang out together and communicate nonverbally (Onion is also best friends with many other nonverbal monsters for this reason, and there’s speculation that he’s actually a monster, not a human)

- Steven accidentally fuses with someone but that someone is a monster so he accidentally absorbs their soul and freaks out for a second before letting them go and when Alphys finds out that he can just absorb monster souls and fuse with humans she is speechless

- Sardonyx is a guest on Mettaton’s show and ends up stealing the show and they battle it out and the episode is incredibly popular and they become best friends and never collaborate again

- Flowey, who is very old and cynical and has seen it all, figures out Rose Quartz was Pink Diamond halfway through the story being told to him

- Asgore and Toriel teach the Diamonds how to be good rulers and how to recover from the loss of a child

- Chara watches Connie from inside Frisk and learns even more than from Undyne what it is to be a knight, not a crazed killer

- The Diamond Authority and the (now ceremonial) Kingdom of Monsters work together for the first time to issue an apology for prior unethical experimentation on the dead and an official plea for everyone to stop propagating a meme that combines images of Alphys and the Amalgamates with the popular memetic phrase “so this is what Homeworld thinks of fusion”

- Peridot and Alphys. Enough said.

- Monsters and gems bond over comparing their magical attacks

- Steven convinces Pearl to put a dimensional box inside her pearl to “see what happens” (nothing)

- Garnet pulls Frisk aside and talks with them and Chara to make sure they’re okay because she’s the only one who knows (future vision) and she can understand what it’s like to share a body

- Flowey/Asriel helps talk Spinel down

- Fluorite, who is basically a grandma to the Off-Colors already, gains... a lot of new grandchildren in the Amalgamates

- Flowey hears about Lars coming back to life and gets really mad

- The only people not allowed to know that Frisk and Flowey could rewind time (because Frisk told the Gems everything and it was nice to have a kindred spirit in Steven) are the Diamonds - and Peridot

- The kids eat “butts pie on the butt ship”

- Homeworld is stocked with monster food for Steven and any other humans who may be accompanying him (doesn’t spoil, turns into energy instantly!)

- Sans and Spinel are BFFs

- Frisk gets attacked by a monster (because of course they still have random encounters occasionally) and tells them that to take their soul they need to do a cool fusion dance first

- Garnet unfuses just so Ruby and Undyne can go off and beat up bad guys together because Sapphire feels like a third wheel with them (Ruby comes back later crying because of how much she missed Sapphire)

- Sans and Amethyst rub off on each other, and Pearl and Papyrus declare in unison that this is the worst day of their lives

- Sans poofs and sells Amethyst and then Amethyst reforms and robs the buyer (Pearl and Papyrus go back and pay for damages later)

And, of course, the two best reasons:

- Flowey consents to be covered in human spit. Or, rather, human-gem hybrid spit. And Diamond essence.

- When Chara sees Asriel alive, in front of them, and smiling, they decide that they could do about anything and come out of hiding inside Frisk. And Frisk is freed as Pearl was from their terrible secret. And finally, they get to put their family back together, just like Steven did.

#undertale #steven universe #crossover #save asriel

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pr0sciutt0 · 6 years ago

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Could I please get some fluffy Bruno reassuring his plus size fem s/o that she’s beautiful after an unsuccessful clothes shopping trip that’s made her feel very self conscious about herself. Thank you angel! ❤️

afab reader fem pronouns! warning for negative body image stuff! <3 bruno soft.... this one hit me hard dfnkvjfkbngf

"I can come in and help," your boyfriend's voice says, from just outside the changing room, as you struggle with the third zip of the day. It's hardly something that you're not used to, but still . . . you can't help but swallow back the tears and the lump in the back of your throat as you say;

"No, it's alright, Bruno. It's not going to do up."

"Are you sure, amore? You know, zippers are my speciality--"

"I'm sure," you say, hoping the tears clogging up your throat aren't too obvious to him. You know that they will be, of course - Bruno can read you like an open book - but you don't think you could bear looking into those gorgeous sapphire-blue eyes and seeing pity in them. "It's . . . You won't be around to help me every day. If I can't get in and out of it on my own, it doesn't fit."

You succeed, the dress pooling around your ankles. It hurts more that Bruno had been the one to choose this dress, that look in his eyes as if you were the most beautiful girl in the world when he handed it to you. You hate disappointing him!

You step out of the changing room with the dress hung neatly back on its hanger, and Bruno sees your red-rimmed eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks and the stoop of your shoulders but doesn't say anything except a soft whisper of your name as he places his hand on the small of your back and guides you out of the fitting rooms. You hand the dress to the attendant with a shake of your head, and she - the kind of girl who's probably never had to worry about something not fitting her in her life - gives you a smile that you can't help but read as mocking.

(It's not, coincidentally; it's her customer service smile, and she's been on her feet for seven hours straight, and she can't wait to get home and take off her heels and collapse onto her bed. But when you're in as low a place as you are right now, it's hard not to feel jealousy constricting everything you do - especially when she gives Bruno a smile too, and he smiles back, and that poisonous little voice in your head whispers that she would be a far more fitting lover for a man such as him than you will ever be.)

You hold it together until you get to the car, and then the dam breaks, and Bruno is ushering you into your seat and murmuring soft, sweet things to you, and reaching across to do up your seatbelt as you gulp back noisy tears.

"It's alright," he's murmuring, his voice soft. "We can go to a different shop, amore - it was probably just the cut that didn't fit right, you know none of these places use proper standard sizing - ah! We could get something custom-made for you, hmm? I know the most wonderful little tailor--"

"D-don't," you choke out. "I'm not worth it."

Bruno is sitting beside you now, preparing to engage the car, but your words make him pause and turn to you with a stern face. You feel disgusting - your face reddened from the sobbing, your eyes running, all red and puffy and disgusting. You don't know how Bruno can look at you and feel anything less than revulsion. Heaven knows sometimes you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and all you can think about is how disgusting you are. How your hips curve and your arms bulge in sleeves and how round your face is. How your thighs rub together when you walk.

Bruno is so elegant in everything he does. His movements are always so fluid and precise, his face always perfectly set, his hair impeccably silky as it falls over his forehead. In another life, he could easily have been a model - even now, he wears his clothes like the most fashionable catwalk model in the whole of Milan Fashion Week. And you are simply . . . you. Oh, you never feel as though you're worthy of Bruno Buccellati even when he's kissing you.

"P-please can we go home?" You manage to choke out. You'd planned to get some light lunch and then resume your shopping; you were supposed to be looking for a dress that would match Bruno's brand new custom-tailored suit for a fancy party that Giorno was throwing. But after the third shop and six dresses that looked awful on you, two that fit in only the loosest sense of the word, and three that were nowhere near fitting, you had simply lost any energy to carry on embarrassing yourself in front of svelte lovely shop assistants and full-length mirrors.

He looks at you, his face turning impossibly soft. One hand scoops up your chin, a thumb wiping away one of the hot, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. You try in vain to jerk your head away, hating knowing that Bruno must be looking at you and seeing all of those imperfections that haunt you every day, but Bruno's grip is strong. You don't deserve him.

"Of course we can," he says, very soft. "And when we get there, will you let me talk to you?"

Panic rears in your stomach like a wild horse. Oh, it's been coming for some time, hasn't it? You ought to have known that somebody like bruno could never want to stay with you. You're moments away, you think, from Bruno ending it altogether. And though you know he will be kind and he will not tell you the truth, you will know that it's because he knows you are not worthy of him. Surely he sees photographs of you two together sometimes and he wonders where he could have gone so wrong in his life?

It's been nice, up until now, even if it was merely a fluke that meant that for a year Bruno Buccellati has been by your side and kissed you like you're the most beautiful girl in the world.

When Bruno brings the car to a stop outside your modest little home and he comes around to your side of the car to proffer you his hand to allow you to get out of the car elegantly, you don't even try and give him a watery smile. Your heart feels like it is shattering into a hundred tiny little pieces.

He leads you to the front door, your teeth digging into your bottom lip. You won't burst into tears again, you promise yourself. You won't make this embarrassing for Bruno. Any more embarrassing, at least, than it must have been for him to go to fancy mafia parties with somebody like you on his arm.

And when he leads you to a chair at the dining table and takes one next to you, his stance pleading as he leans his elbows on the table and brings his face closer to yours, you can't bear the tension, and the words come spilling out of your mouth before Bruno can say anything himself.

"It's alright," you say, "I'll pack--"

Bruno's face twists in confusion.

"I don't--"

"It's okay," you repeat, though it feels anything other than okay. Oh no. You promised yourself you wouldn't cry, but hot tears are already springing into your eyes and your voice is already cracking. "I w-won't make a scene. I understand. You're you, and I'm just . . . not good enough for you. I'm just--"

Bruno clasps your hands suddenly, and he's pressing his forehead against yours.

"The love of my life," he says, and you look into the blue eyes with a trembling lip. "You're just the love of my life."

"You don't have to lie to me," you whisper.

"I'm not," he says, and his voice is firm. You've never heard Bruno plead. He brings one of your hands up to his mouth and drops a feather-light kiss on it, not breaking the eye contact he and you are holding.

"I've never felt as connected to somebody as I feel to you, amore," he admits, and his voice is breaking a little now. "Not just in the physical sense - though, believe me when I say that I'm extremely connected to you in that way - but I feel like we are kindred spirits. You understand me. You're there for me, and lovely and kind and sweet and perfect--"

"But I'm disgusting," you say, your stomach rolling over itself in waves of nausea at yourself. "How can you bear to even look at me?"

"Looking at you is a pleasure," he says, emphasising every word with a squeeze of your hands. "Every part of you is beautiful."

"We couldn't even find a dress that looked nice on me today--"

His eyes sparkle.

"I thought you looked beautiful in everything. Though I have to admit I prefer you in nothing at all."

You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, and before you know it, Bruno has dropped to his knees in front of you and is looking up at you like you're some beautiful Goddess who he is lucky to worship at the feet of.

"I don't know how to make you believe that you're beautiful to me," he breathes, "but you are. The way your eyes crinkle when you smile. The way your lips curve just so, the way your hair looks against your shoulders, the way your hips feel in my hands - oh, amore, I wouldn't trade you for the world."

"I'm sorry," you say, voice small. "For always being so needy."

"Oh," Bruno says, "I'm more than happy to shower you in the compliments you deserve, tesoro. Now. About this dress. Shall we have a good look in your wardrobe together? Will you have a little fashion show for me, hmm? And we can order a new colour of something you already like instead, si?"

Bruno gently tugs on your hands, and you rise at the same time as he does. One of his arms cradles you and pulls you into a kiss, and under Bruno's gentle gaze you allow your eyes to flutter closed and to let yourself feel safe instead of disgusting. To let that feeling of Bruno telling you how beautiful you are suffuse your body with a warm glow. When he kisses you, his mouth is soft but hungry, and when he pulls away there's clear adoration in his gaze that makes you feel like perhaps he was telling the truth.

"Si," you breathe, and Bruno smiles.

#sfw #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #body image for ts #bruno buccellati #hazbuccellati

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john1513kjv-blog · 6 years ago

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My Testimony: How Jesus saved my life (multiple times)

I was born and raised in a religious family (notably Catholic). Growing up I went to mass every Sunday, believing in God, Jesus, and the Virgin Mary (not really as much); or so I thought I did. In my middle school and high school years, I was like everyone else. I thought that everything was fine and that there was nothing wrong with the things I did (like lying, stealing things behind my parents’ back, cussing, saying rude things behind my parents’ back when they told me things I didn’t like.)

Though I didn’t realize somewhere down the line; things were about to change for me and my family. 2011 was the year that my grandma died and it affected everyone in my family, including my mom. Life hasn’t been the same for her. Once a happy soul eager to have people around, now is always suspicious of others, not wanting to go out or visit anyone, claiming people are out to get her. I didn’t understand much of what was happening. I just simply thought my mom was crazy. But at the same time, I wondered why God let this happen? Again, I didn’t thought much of it, I simply did more things things that were considering wrong in God’s eyes (like lying to my mom that my aunt called me and cursed my mom when I only called a local gamestop store to get a game I wanted, looking up porn due to a dare from a so-called “friend” and looking up fetish art)

In high school I dated this japanese-american guy who was an atheist, he was the one who proposed to me. At the time, I didn’t know much about what love was. It wasn’t until my parents found and got angry, not for the fact he was an atheist, but for the fact that I was texting him many times in class and it raised the price on the phone bill. My dad furiously told me to end the relationship immediately. I was really upset about it, yet I did as I was told. It hurt my now ex boyfriend and I was mad at what my parent’s said to me. So what I did was told him to just pretend to be friends but to keep the relationship a secret. It worked for only a month until my now ex told me that what I was doing was wrong to lie to my parent’s behind their backs. I didn’t understand at first until he wanted to end our relationship. Without question, I did what he told me and again I was upset. Little did I know that Jesus was doing me a favor. Had he not intervene, I would have ended up a homeless teen mom.

After breaking ties with the Catholic Church (due to my mom’s irrational, mental instability), my dad sought help elsewhere. We went to this Christian Church that supposedly teaches from the Bible but something about it was missing. My dad told me that he felt that there was something wrong in that church. Was it due to the fact it held church services on Sunday instead of the seventh day (Saturday) as the Bible said? Again, I didin’t think much of it. I went to this “revival”, not because I wanted to look for Christ, but for worldly pleasures.

Come 2014, and my dad was searching something on the TV (something to watch or perhaps something related to the Bible). That wasn’t until He found a channel called “El Evangelio Eterno” (in English: The Everlasting Gospel). Namely this Pastor (who’s the head pastor of this ministry) was preaching something that none of us has ever heard, the three angels’ message.

REVELATION 14:6-12

6 And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people, 7 Saying with a loud voice, Fear God, and give glory to him; for the hour of his judgment is come: and worship him that made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of waters. 8 And there followed another angel, saying, Babylon is fallen, is fallen, that great city, because she made all nations drink of the wine of the wrath of her fornication. 9 And the third angel followed them, saying with a loud voice, If any man worship the beast and his image, and receive his mark in his forehead, or in his hand, 10 The same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of his indignation; and he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb: 11 And the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever: and they have no rest day nor night, who worship the beast and his image, and whosoever receiveth the mark of his name. 12 Here is the patience of the saints: here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus.

From then on, my dad wanted to know more of what they were preaching and that’s when they announced that they were opening a church a few miles away to where we live.The first one who went there was my dad. I didn’t pay that much attention to my dad when he watched the channel nor what they were saying or teaching. But one day (it was a Saturday), out of curiousity, I asked my dad if I wanted to come with him and he said yes. From there I always went with him to church, but at the same time, I was missing something. I learned about all the prophecies of the end times, that Jesus was coming real soon, about God’s real day of rest (Saturday), learned about the health reform that God can heal us, not just spiritually, but also from our physical illnesses too. I learned all these things, yet something was still missing. In September 2, 2017, our pastor preached to us (in a sermon of the end times) that Donald Trump signed the executive order to make Sunday, National Day of Prayer as a response to for the victims of hurricane Harvey.

At that moment, I was scared. I felt my heart racing. I thought to myself, “If I don’t get baptized soon, I might get left behind and receive the mark of the beast”. So I was one of the few people that got baptized that day, and that’s when I gave my life to Jesus. I studied more of God’s word, made a YouTube Channel to teach end-time prophecies, used my old social media accounts to spread the gospel (or so I thought I did) and I let go some of the things that I used to like (like stealing, secular music, looking up things that were not centered around God, video games [mostly because I was addicted to them and were the main reason I lied to my mom to get me a game]) and I thought I was saved. 2 years went by, I gave gospel tracts (but only at the front door because I was a little bit shy on what to say), and made posters that show the pagan origins of every holiday celebrated (except for thanksgiving).

Every Sabbath became dull, and everytime a sermon on end time prophecy is preached, I always listen yet feel the conviction of the Holy Spirit and I end up crying because I felt like I haven’t done much for the Lord. Everyday I always had a nagging feeling inside that something was wrong. It was until then I started developing a small legalistic mindset (meaning that if I didn’t do enough of what I was taught, I wasn’t gonna make it. Let me tell you, it affected my character greatly. I tried confronting people (including my old church friends) that what they were believing in was wrong and I used Scripture to convince them that they were wrong (instead of using it in a correct and humble manner) and they would fight back and I couldn’t be able to respond either because I didn’t know much of something or I didn’t want to risk embarassing myself. I became self righteous, but in the inside (I was good at masking my character) I started watching conspiracy videos and things involving the New World Order and the Illuminati and thought that God wanted me to tell people about it. I only told a few people about it, little by little, with a little bit of bible prophecy, yet I was still scared.

Overtime, I was interested in learning a little bit about the health reform that I signed up to be a medical missionary, so I can learn how God can heal people physically and spiritually (like how Jesus preached and healed people as well). I remember signing up and was super exciting about it. It was very interesting to learn at first, but just like church, it became very dull. Along with my legalistic mindset, I developed some minor depression, anxieties, which didn’t help that I suffer from a mild case of ADHD (a mental disorder I had since birth).

These things filled my soul with even more but I didn’t want to admit it. Come May 24, 2019, I went to this church retreat center in the mountain, where they were going to do seminars on the art of apologetics. The third day, I was there and I got up early to attend church service in the main audience hall. I didn’t remember much about what the pastor was preaching but I remember hearing something along the lines of the pastor saying, “God has given us all this light to share to the world” “What exactly are we doing with that light?” The sermon hit me hard that day and my anxieties rised up again and I felt extreme fear inside, that God didn’t want me anymore because I didn’t do enough. After the service ended, a sister from the service stopped me as I was leaving. She told me, “What is wrong? Why were you crying?” I told her my problems and I mentioned to her that I haven’t brought a soul to Christ for 2 years and felt like I wasn’t good enough. She responded kindly with: “Everyone in the church feels like that, including myself. That’s why we come to learn how to do these things. God knows your heart, and knows that you want to serve Him, but you just have to be patient and He will let you know when it’s the right time to do it. You don’t have to do everything at once because God didn’t call you to do any of that. The reason is that you’re not completely ready yet and He is still teaching you His word. He won’t let you carry more than you can handle. Just keep your eyes on Him and you’ll be fine.” I listened to her and thanked her.

The last thing I remember I ran to my cabin and I went down on my knees crying with all my heart, “Thank you God, Thank Jesus, Thank you for saving me, for sending me this sister to comfort me. If it wasn’t for you, I would have called it quits. Forgive me Lord, for losing sight of why I am here. Forgive me for having this legalistic mindset, for being decieved to think that works saved me when you did it all for me through the sacrifice of your only Begotten Son. If I have to wait 5, 10, or even 20 years for me to be where you want me to be Lord, I’ll wait. All I ask is to never let you go and to never lose sight of you.” After that, I felt like the weight of my chest was lifted off. I understood God’s grace and mercy on someone like me. A 23-year-old woman with ADHD, a quirky sense of humor, artistic talent, yet always tries her best to love others. Jesus saved my life many times in my past, even now. All because He loved me enough to die for not only for me but for you who’s reading this.

That’s right, He loves you also. He loves you enough that He died so that you and I could be free from your sins and reconnect with God. All it takes to turn away from your sinful lifestyle (whether it be drugs, prostitution, masturbation, homosexuality, theft, hatred, alcoholism, addiction of any kind), and learn to live for Jesus. <3

JOHN 3:16-20

16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. 17 For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.

18 He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. 19 And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.

20 For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither* cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. 21 But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God.

#my testimony #testimony #how jesus saved my life #christianity #god is real #god is love #god is good

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