#yes i am finally bridging these two fandoms

[agir1ukn0w]

bbc ghosts fans watching masters of the air ep 6:

[courtingchaos]

Unclean

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Warnings: Religious themes, menstruation: sex and talk of, fingering, blood in various places, allusions to physical abuse (not reader) it’s period sex!

A/N: Listen, I am an ex-for-almost-20-years-Catholic who grew up around a lot of Southern Baptist, so excuse my (probable) misinterpretation of Leviticus okay? I just think Roy Tillman is a real Old Testament guy. I’ve had this little one shot in the wings for a while and only got the guts to finish it recently. I’m also deeply aware that I am interpreting this character much differently than the fandom at large so like, peace be with you.

18+ NSFW No Minors

Nothing but low lights behind the pulpit and a few along the aisles to let you see the outline of him in the first pew. Leaned forward, still and quiet in the cold dark that seeps into the small wooden church. Outside, the calvary congregates and converses after their Sunday dinner provided by their shepherd and in here, in the small family chapel, it’s just the two of you in the glow of old bulbs. Warm yellow gives the bridge of his nose a highlight and shines off the sun bleached strands in his hair. When your footsteps reach his radius he looks over his shoulder, tense and sharp, but the golden glow reflects off his eyes to give him a softer look than he deserves.

You stop two pews back and he gives you a once over, nervous eyes flitting from your head to your feet and up again before he begins chewing on his bottom lip. “You go home?”

“Yes.”

“Why you still in your dress?”

“It’s still Sunday.”

He laughs through his nose and turns back to the pulpit, thumb rubbing lightly against his reddened lip. “Did you stop at the house?”

You step forward one more length of pew and stop again to watch him fidget with the vape in his hand. “No, Roy wanted to talk to my father so I came back out here.”

Gator hums, a twitch of his lip letting his displeasure show for just a moment. The smack of the metal against his palm is loud in the small space like the yell you know he’d like to let loose would be. Sharp and mean like his demeanor, trying to be like his father but just south of right.

“Did you eat?” You ask while creeping up beside him. The smoke from the pit nearby has snuck in through the gaps in the doorways and mingled with the dry smell of wood and old hay. This chapel has always reminded you of an attic with its exposed beams but the scent of decades old pine makes you the most nostalgic.

“No.”

“Not hungry?”

He looks up at you before he sits back against the bench, takes in your pieces before the whole of you, eyes flitting again from your open coat to the hem of your dress fluttering just below your knee. Vape set aside he reaches out to drag a finger up from your knee and under that hem where you keep some of your secrets. Lines of ink not even your parents have seen, another cut you’ve inflicted like the hundred others while trying to claw your way out of this compound.

Fingers dig into the back of your thigh to hold you in front of him, lets the heat from his palm sink in while he doesn’t answer you.

“What was this morning about?”

He tilts his head in lieu of opening his mouth.

“Roy was on his ‘god honoring woman’ kick again. Did Karen piss him off last night?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t home.” His other hand snakes between your thighs to hold higher up. “She didn’t look upset.” He drops his gaze then to stare at the yellow flowers dotted over the black fabric of your dress, the one your mother bought you as a threat veiled in a peace offering.

“A little too much Leviticus for my taste.”

“Mm.”

Your coat lands on the floor behind you and his fingers inch higher on the inside of your thigh. He seems fixed on the way your dress bunches over his wrist instead of the soft touch behind his ear where you tuck an errant strand of hair finally falling out of its place. Outside there’s a muffled uproar of laughter that makes you cast a sharp look through the foggy windows and Gator takes the opportunity to move his warmth away to pluck at the buttons at the top of your dress.

“Little low cut for church.”

“My mother doesn’t think so.”

“I’ll thank her later.” An actual smile this time as the first button slips through silky cotton, followed by two more before you stop him. The wood creaks under your knee as you shift your weight to it, sliding it up against his hip. Again his hand finds your thigh, up high to find his favorite ink, a simple black line cross that his thumb rubs small circles into.

He hasn’t noticed yet that you tucked your underwear in your coat before you walked all the way out here. Risky since this morning left you with a bloody visit and now you sit unclean under the rafters his family raised. Your dress slides up easily enough, almost up enough to share your secret, and finally he pulls you close. Tugs at you to get you over his lap, your other knee colliding dully with the bench back.

It’s like a switch with him sometimes the way his mood will turn. Sour petulance that makes you roll your eyes will break for roaming hands that map out your body. Sullen quiet suddenly loud with his wants, with his questions, with his panting and moaning. Any place he can have you but more often in places that would bring down his father’s ire if you were found.

Flush against him now he pulls you down to meet the seat of his hips before he pushes your dress up around your waist and pauses mid grope to laugh.

“Does your mother approve of this too?” Fingers move again along the crease of your hip until they reach soft curls. He catches your eye and doesn’t look away as he dips his fingers into your heat, his lip caught between his teeth again, this time with a smirk. He pushes up slow, thick fingers dragging against oversensitive flesh, his palm flat so you can grind against him. Words seem caught in his throat, probably something goading and whispered, something laughed out on a breath. You know he wants to make you blush about how wet you already are and how loud you’re panting but he changes his angle and moves his hand, pulls it back in front of himself and stops to stare at the red staining his fingers.

“Oh.” You don’t pretend to sound surprised. He frowns but doesn’t push you away like you thought he might’ve, instead he seems frozen in place and you don’t miss the blush beginning to trickle down his cheeks. “It’s okay.” You grab his fist hovering between you. “It’s okay.” You repeat and he looks at you then, wide eyes searching for something. Leaned in close you bring his hand up slow, up towards his lips parted around a whispered sound of protest.

“Is-isn’t this breaking a r-rule or something?”

He doesn’t curl his fingers away when you press them to his mouth, a long line of blood from his cupids bow to his chin. With your free hand you fumble with his belt and his pants, keeping his doe eyed gaze glued to yours.

“Your father walks in here without burning.”

Confusion has nestled its way into his features, eyes squinted at you until you wedge your hand in between thick fabric and hot skin. His gaze droops when you pull him free, mouth splitting open with a quiet gasp. You move then, sitting up on your knees to look down on him wanting and blooded, dragging your hands down his long arms along the back the of the pew outstretched to grip the hardwood with white knuckles. Fear, you think at first, from the wild print you’ve left on his face. Anxiousness maybe that he might be found like this, not just compromised but marked now, cut off from the flock finally.

“Gator…” You barely whisper and he’s chasing you upwards. Against the restraints of your hands on his wrists he pulls when your lips don’t descend to meet his.

A choked off whine, “Please.” His hips wiggle between your knees for some kind of friction, anything to get closer. “C’mon, come back.” He pleads through clenched teeth, tacky red turning matte on his full lips. It draws you back in and he smiles when you close the distance with a brush of a kiss, something light that makes him huff before you consume him.

He doesn’t taste like when you bite your cheek or suck on a paper cut. It’s a foreign taste on a familiar tongue, faint passion fruit from his habit and a metallic tinge that makes you groan into him. He feels good. Pinned like a fluttering moth looking for an escape, for a saving grace that he seems to find in your lips and the dip of your tongue. His breath comes in sharp puffs through his nose smushed against your cheek and again you hear him whine when you don’t let him raise his hands.

A shake of his head to break the kiss to get his point across to take a deep breath-

Outside there’s heavy footfalls on the old wooden steps. Both of you freeze like deer, your eyes trained on the heavy door and his boring through your chin, waiting to bolt at the first sign of discovery.

Muffled voices, a click of metal and your heart in your throat when this unsuspecting intruder has a change of pace. A muffled question. A pause. Quiet laughter and parting footsteps.

Your fingers simply drape and Gator takes the opportunity to surge into you. Hands grabbing at your hips to hold you closer, pushing you down on him. He guides himself in with his thumb, a quick brush over that ache of yours amplified through thrill and nature.

You miss him watching your face scrunch up in apprehension. Lips parted like his, pink lipstick smudged with blood, only you hiss out an “easy” that he answers with a shush. Lets his hands run back up under your dress to find his favorite little scar of ink, smearing red along the way. Almost dry now but his fingerprints in your mess between the two of you make him forget his reservations for a few minutes. He forgets the crowd outside and the house ten minutes away. Pushes the expectations away. He instead watches you relax into him, the way your hands unwind from his shirt only to feel them slide up behind his neck to wind back up in his hair. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip before you bite down on a moan when he bucks his hips up gently.

This wet heat, new to him in this taboo, draws him in when you roll your hips in earnest suddenly. You’ve angled him to find that magic spot he’s usually still searching for by this point, your head rolling back on your shoulders to ride your knees raw against the wood. The deep heat of you almost scorches him, a small voice in the back of his thoughts reminding him of hellfire and naked founts.

“Fuck.” Said out loud in the hopes of chasing away a voice tinged with vitriol and a release of the climbing pleasure up his spine. You writhe in his lap and he gropes at your hips, slides long fingers down and under to grab at your thighs. Slick with sweat you slip in his grasp, heavy breaths blown over his locks when you finally reach behind him to hold onto the bench.

The open top of your dress brushes his face enough times he bites at the buttons, finally catching them between his teeth. Through his lashes he watches your face, glued to the peek of teeth behind your lips. The way you glitter in low light and muggy air. The dip of your collar bones when you roll your body into his and he can feel you tighten all around him, core and arms and air.

A not gentle hand suddenly wrapped around his jaw, fingers prodding into his mouth to hang and pull. Wandering lips messily find his own and then trail off over his cheek to end at his ear, your peak whined against him. Pulsing that makes him hold you closer so he can chase after you to find his own end.

He’s been on the precipice since you threw your coat on the ground and all it takes is a few gentle thrusts before he chokes on a groan and suddenly he feels bottomless. No floor, no bonfires, no congregants too close for comfort. Just your face in his neck and the shared messy warmth pressed between you two.

There’s a swing of headlights over the front of the chapel that breaks whatever tandem calm you two have created. Separated wordlessly with barely a glance at the extra mess, Gator quickly readjusts his pants and you snatch your coat on your way to the small ladies room in the foyer. More muffled voices tonight that intrude on your privacy while you scrub smudged lipstick off your face and rebutton your dress, jumping only a little when there’s a knock at the door.

“You fall in?” Your father jokes on the other side.

“Give me a minute!” You snap while trying to slide your underwear back on. A final look before you walk out to make sure the surface of you is presentable, no visible marks or smudges. Out in the entryway your father gestures at you to follow and Roy gives you too long of a look when he waves. You wonder if he can see it all over your face even though you scrubbed the evidence off. Wonder if he can smell it on you two like a predator sniffing out wounded prey.

Can he see your handprints all over his son? Invisible blood that marks him different now. The tang of sin sits all over your tongue and when you run it behind your teeth to savor you catch Gator staring again. Catch him watching your hands twist in your coat pockets and his eyes flit back up to your mouth. You can feel the faded touch of him worrying at your tattoo even across a courtyard.

“Hey Gator?” You holler at him while climbing into your father’s truck. “Don’t forget dinner.” A simple smile for him before you slam the door, a break in the tension and your phone is vibrating seconds later. You wait to look until your home but it still makes you laugh even when you’re starting your laundry.

Thank your mom for me.

[ayufufu]

OnionThief x Rival!MC

Word Count: 4368

Summary:  In which OnionThief and his rival get paired up for a project.  But for the first time, he gets to see what it’s like for them behind the scenes of their bratty know-it-all personality (basically academic burnout).

Author’s Note:  Started sometime in 2020, finished April 5th, 2024.  I present the sassy, probably out-of-character, OnionThief and his little rival.  Trust, it’s been like 3 years since I’ve played this game.  Oh lord am I out of touch with this fandom.  It is buried within me right now.  But hey, finished writing.  I am proud of the beginning half, the ending might not be it though. 

“Eat shit and die.”

“Yes, fuck you.”  These whispers flew past surrounding peers, already used to overhearing this type of bickering between the pair.  It was never truly clear how it began.  They tested each other’s knowledge, butting heads every year since high school.  Y/N and Onionthief simply found each other insufferable, their hostility seemed to intensify when they found out they applied to the same college.  It was as though they were water and oil, never being able to mix well.  The professors chose to pay no mind since both were still excelling.  Their grades were incredibly high, scores screaming in pain at the height they were reaching, extra credit opportunities never wasted.

“You’re all dismissed, please remember to review pages 556 to 590 for next week.”  The class let out dim cheers, the sounds of paper rustling, bags zipping, and peers exchanging words filling the large room.  As Y/N finished packing their last item away, they rushed straight to the door.  Walking to the outside of campus, they made a mental to-do list.  Assignments were beginning to pile up, but Winter break was right there.  Couldn’t stop now.

“Move,” Onion’s voice rang out as he shoved his shoulder into theirs harshly, a scoff coming from them as they’re broken from their thoughts.

“I wasn’t aware the 15 feet of space around me was nonexistent,” Y/N spat.  Their eyes followed his back as he continued his fast pace without a word.  Unbelievable.  Turning to walk the other direction, the sounds of their peers filled their ears.  Silently restarting their to-do list, the sounds became a blur.  The walk to their apartment was a routine, passing the different trees and couples before reaching the bridge.  Rushing across, the sounds of another pair of footsteps flooded their ears.  

“So you’ve resorted to stalking me,” Onion sneered.  Y/N turned around, head flooded with annoyance.

“I live here, you’re aware of that.” “Right.”  He walked over to the bridge pulling a small bottle from his pocket.  Y/N watched curiously as he tipped it over the edge and shook it a bit.  Realizing he was feeding the fish, Y/N walked off, bag bouncing with each step.  The eyes following them were left unnoticed, the sounds of class echoing in their mind all the way to their desk.

“I mentioned at the beginning of the year that there will be one major partner assignment in this class, serving as our midterm final.”  Groans and whispers of cheers filled the room, peers feeling dreadful while others spotted friends across the room.  Y/N sighed, head resting in their arms.  Glad he’s at least sitting somewhere else.  

“Alright, settle down.  These partners will be assigned by your latest test scores.”  Right...  Y/N clicked their pen impatiently, feeling the metal between their fingers, more sounds of displeasure filling the room.  The teacher droned on about the details of the project, explaining how lower scores would be assigned tutors for their projects.

“Let’s start with the highest scores shall we?”  They sat up.

“Y/N and—” Clack.  The sound of the pen hitting the table drew the attention of a few surrounding classmates, but Y/N didn’t even take notice.

“You two don’t need a tutor so you’ll be able to view the project details online. Now for…”  He was their partner.  For once, a teacher decided to pair them up.  They sat through the rest of the class, every word flowing through their ears and out the other.  Nothing was staying put into their mind.  I just had to be paired with such an insufferable… Shaking their head, they heard the professor dismiss them.

“Well, I guess I’m ready to fail this assignment.” And there he is.  They began packing their stuff, shoving the items in the bag messily.

“Same here, you’ll just drag down my grade even if we did try.”

“Right, what was this worth again, 50%?”  Y/N stopped their aggressive packing at this.

“Where did you get that this was 50%?” “Read the details dumbass,” he passed his phone to them.  Their eyes skimmed over the details, the 50 percent and “due in 10 days” standing out from everything else.  The phone was plucked out of their hands as he smirked, tucking it away.  He left the room, Y/N trailing behind.  They couldn’t just skip the assignment, their hard-earned A+ would easily drop in just one month.  Onion tried his best not to notice the footsteps behind him, knowing it was them.  He held back chuckles as he wondered how long they’d follow him.

“Hey shallot-head,” Y/N called.  He hummed in acknowledgment, but he still didn’t change pace or look their way.  Y/N was starting to struggle to keep up the pace, always one step or two behind from walking next to him, not noticing the smirk he was hiding.  They finally huffed before grabbing the back of his shirt to stop him completely.  He halted at the sudden pressure, a smirk forming a look of surprise while Y/N rushed to face him.

“Listen shallot, I can’t afford to skip this assignment.”  He cocked an eyebrow at this.

“The Y/N cannot afford to skip this assignment?  I’m sure you can lose half of your grade, still pass, and I would be able to avoid your ridiculously low IQ.”  Their head felt hot at the sound of his ridiculing.

“I need to pass this assignment.  I can do the work, but you just need to revise some parts to look like it’s yours,”  Y/N pleaded.  He seemed to ponder the options, putting his chin between his fingers.

“No.”  He turned to leave. “Wait– I offer instant miso!”  His head perked up.

“Green onions too, plus I’ll throw in extra tofu.”  He grabbed Y/N’s wrist roughly before beginning to drag them to the apartment in a rush, Y/N struggling once more to keep up, relief washing their body.

“I need to stop here for a moment.”  He approached the bridge again, the same bottle as before in his hand.  Y/N watched him shake the bottle once more, fish crowding the area again.  He turned back to them before nodding and walking to the complex, Y/N tailing after.  Once they called the elevator, awkward silence surrounded them.  For the first time since they began their walk (run) back, tension swallowed them whole, arms and legs aching from arduous journeys across campus and poor posture in class.

Y/N stepped into the elevator first, clicking the third-floor button once Onion stepped in.  They side-eyed him, taking in his tense yet relaxed state.  Y/N willed themselves to relax their stiff body while the elevator doors spread open.

“Do you need anything from your room or are you good to go,” Y/N asked, adjusting the bag on their back.  

“I don’t need anything else.  I bring all my work necessities with me”  They nodded at his response before putting in their pin and unlocking the door.  They walked straight in, putting away their necessities, shoes by the door, and water bottle on the table.

“Right, um, you could set up in the kitchen while I make your miso?”  Onion nodded and began to set his stuff on the chair next to Y/N’s stuff while they began putting a pot of water on the stove.  As Onion began pulling out his laptop and notes, he stared at Y/N’s back while they shuffled around the kitchen grabbing things out of cabinets and drawers.  His brows furrowed in annoyance at the unwanted presence, punching his laptop code in with more pressure.

“Don’t you have a desk?”  Onion sighed at the environment.  

“I do, but it only fits me.  I didn’t plan on having anyone study at my apartment until now.”  The instant miso powder hit the boiling water, the aroma filling the room, the silence of their voices following.  Bubbling water and mouse clicks were the only things heard for a few more minutes, the atmosphere stiff.  Eventually, two bowls of miso, two laptops, two notebooks, and two comp sci students were positioned at the table.  

“So, let’s test the limits of your stupidity.” “...I literally have a higher score than you.”

“Ok, and?” Y/N leaned back in their chair.  They barely even started, the soup still steaming, but their bickering was starting up once more.

“I’m just saying, that B in algorithms seems to say something about you.”  Harshly sighing, Y/N tipped their head back to the ceiling, their eyes tracing the patterns in the material.

“If you don’t pay attention I will chug this miso and leave.”  They snapped their head towards him.  They sat up and positioned their arms to type before realizing they hadn’t even read all of the assignment details yet.  This was going to be a long month.

10 days.

“No dumbass, this is supposed to be–” “No it isn’t, what the hell?”

“Are you denying the truth? “I am denying what is clearly wrong.” “Look at my notes, it’s right!”  Y/N shoved their notes in Onion’s face.  Pushing his glasses further up his nose, his eyes scanned the text.  After a minute or so, he sighed.

“Your notes are wrong.”  Their eyes widened when Onion handed his own notes to them before rereading their notes with a confused expression.  Onion had wanted to work on homework before continuing the project to make sure their (mostly his) grades didn’t drop.  Upon looking at their notes from the day, their professor's words filled their brain again.  They couldn’t stop the disappointment from filling their face, a frown settling on their features.  Since they were so sure they were right, they didn’t think their understanding of the topic was off.  Onionthief observed their down face, an expression he seldom saw.

8 days.

“I couldn’t grab extra tofu last time I went out for groceries.”  Y/N set the bowls down carefully, taking their seat right after.  Onion didn’t budge, opting to continue typing away at his laptop.  At the lack of response, they cocked an eyebrow.  They thought he’d throw a fit, but surprisingly he stayed put.  Y/N sighed before opening up their work yet again, shoulders aching.  Onion stayed true to the deal, opting to revise the parts Y/N laid out for him while continuing his homework from other classes.  At the lack of help and the burden of other classes on their mind, Y/N could feel the shadows of burnout waiting to envelop them.  After this, they were prepared to let their bed swallow them whole.

6 days.

“Hey, this is still wrong.”  Y/N’s head jerked up from the part of the project they were currently typing out.  Onion observed them as they rapidly scrolled to where he was viewing.  It was an entry from the beginning of the project.  A part that affected the rest of the work.  Deeply sighing, the monotone voice in their head began reading again.  Despite rereading it constantly, nothing was sticking.  It was as though the words didn’t exist.  At the lack of response from Y/N after a good few minutes, Onion huffed before highlighting the mistake in the text.

“Oh.”  It was all they could let out at the moment.  Despite the sentence highlighted, the information wasn’t processed in their head.  Their face scrunched up at the hotness filling their head.  The sight made an unfamiliar feeling rise in Onion.  He breathed out harshly before deleting the sentence, correcting it himself.  If it wasn’t for the silence in the kitchen, he doubted he’d ever hear the quiet ‘thanks’ they let out.  He froze at the appreciation, the sound of it unfamiliar from them.  The hell do they mean ‘thanks’?

5 days.

The project was still unfinished, the amount of work left taunting Y/N as they were left staring at the blank screen yet again.  The homework had already seemed to have drained them, but they refused to call it a night yet.  Their miso bowl was cold, the ingredients settling to the bottom.  Onion had already finished his homework and revised the parts of the project he was given.  Now, he seemed to be collecting data on some fantasy web novel.  Rubbing their temple, Y/N shut their laptop despite having never even opened the project yet.  Their brain was on overdrive, the workload invading their mind and trying to push them to work.  Despite their efforts, Y/N just couldn’t bring themself to even pretend they could work, their gaze burning holes in the back of Onion’s laptop.

“Are you finally done with the project,” Onion blurted out, eyes not leaving his screen.  No answer.  Glancing over the top of his laptop, his eyes were met with Y/N’s drained demeanor.  As his gaze wandered over their face, it soon traveled to the untouched bowl on the side.  Adjusting his glasses, he shut down his laptop after saving his work, the sudden movement making Y/N jump.  He leaned forward, chin resting against the back of his hands.

“Do you need help?” “Why the fuck are you asking like that–” “I’m just asking.” “Yes, but what’s with that pose, you look dramatic.”  Onion’s confused face became deadpan at the comment.  He opened his mouth to let out a snarky remark before Y/N got up abruptly.  He watched as they trudged over to their room, the door shutting softly behind them as a muffled thud was heard.

3 days.

Y/N hasn’t emerged from their room since yesterday, the silence in class left everyone dumbfounded as Onion continued on with his day-to-day classes in silence.  Yet as the day came to an end, he found himself in front of the same door he’s gone to for the past 19 days.  What do I even say?  Why am I here? They didn’t say they’d work on the project today.  His hand raised for the buzzer.  

“Coming…”  Dull. A very dull voice.  “Come on in, miso’s in the pot.  I’ll be in my room laying down, we can just do it tomorrow or something.”

“But that would put us–”

“Behind schedule I know, shut up.  Please.”  He frowned at their small pleading.  I don’t like that they have to plead.  “If you want to you can work on it yourself…”

“But that wasn’t-”

“A part of the deal I know, it’s just a suggestion.  Take it or leave it, miso’s still yours.”

“Oh.. okay then.”  As they left, Onion felt bitter guilt rising in him.  He looked at the miso and sighed before pulling out his laptop and getting to work.  Might as well as payment for the miso.  He swiftly got to work as Y/N stayed silent in their room.

2 days.

Onion finished the last of his typing, the kitchen was oddly silent as there was no miso being cooked and no Y/N to bother him.  Y/N just let Onion in, apologizing for the lack of miso or food, and tried to turn him away, but Onion persisted that it didn’t matter.  They let Onion do what he wanted as they did the same as they did before, retreating back to their room in silence.  Yet Onion completed the project yesterday.  It was a minor error that needed to be corrected, one colon needed to make the code work.  When he found the error, all he could do was chuckle a bit before staring at Y/N’s room.  

“Why can’t I just leave,” Onion whispered to himself as he stared at his laptop in frustration.

“No one said you can’t,” Y/N muttered, walking over to the fridge to get water.

“I know,” Onion spat. “I don’t know shallot, doesn’t seem like it,” Y/N spoke in a flat sing-song tone.

“Could you just, shut up already, damn,” he spat.  Y/N carried no response.  They stood in place, the chill of the open fridge numb to their body as they stared into the light illuminating the numerous food products inside.  “Y/N…?”  They closed the fridge as if on autopilot and made their way back into their room, their heart weighing heavy as an ache formed in their chest, their cheeks damp.  Damn it.

24 hours.

No knock today.  The miso sat on the stove for 3 hours, cold, and untouched.  Y/N waited hours, even after they poured the miso down the drain.  Part of them laughed at themselves for waiting, yet the other part made them ache.  Of course, he got tired of me like everyone else.  The silence of their apartment bothered them, the lights and blinds all dimmed.  They stared at the freshly bought miso packets, the weight of their assignments and lectures missing pushed on their heart and crushed it as their tears fell.

22 hours.

“Oh,” was all Y/N could muster when they received an email from Onion telling them to get on the link to the project presentation.  Not a single “sorry” or “Are you okay” was typed out.  They grabbed their laptop and moved it from their bed to their desk as they prepared for another night in bed alone again.  Their assignments could wait just a bit longer.

21 hours, 3AM.

Three knocks.  

“Hey, sorry I was finishing up the work in the library.”  Oh?  Y/N could smell the bullshit coming from him.

“Oh, it’s fine, don’t worry,” was all they could muster in response.

“Okay, here I’ll make miso.  I don’t smell miso, so I guess it’s safe to assume you haven’t been making any.  I’m sorry for ghosting,” Onion gave a sheepish smile.  What the hell do you mean sorry?  Their chest aches even more at the sight of his small smile.

They talked for a while on the couch about the assignments Y/N had been missing while the TV ran some background noise for them.  Turns out Onion and Y/N were excused from some extra tutoring that other students were given in the class, so it wasn’t too bad.  Y/N still had some work to do, but Onion mentioned how he finished the assignment way before, hence the email to check on the file.  Y/N breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why don’t I make us some miso soup for once,” Onion asked.  Y/N raised a brow at this in mocking offense.

“You, my guest, cooking?  Hell no.”  Onion scoffed.

“Just rest.”

“No I’ll make it–”

“Literally shut the fuck up and go.”

“Fine.”  Y/N pushed themselves off of the couch and semi-stopped over to their bed before plopping on it dramatically.  Onion walked in to make sure they were actually in bed before grabbing an extra blanket that sat on their chair and layering it on them.  Y/N side-eyed his every move the entire time as he did.  Their heart had a warm ache this time while Onion shut the door.

“Where the fuck do they put the pots.”  Now that Onion was tasked with “taking care” of Y/N, he realized he had no idea where anything was.  He sighed before going through each cabinet one by one.  Y/N heard the cabinets opening and closing before smiling softly to themselves.  Wait, what.

The weight lifted from their shoulder.  The heaviness of the world had gone.  They took a deep breath, sinking back into the soft blankets once more.

20 hours, 4AM.

“Damn this is good, what kind of crack did you put,” Y/N enthused.

“Just some extra ingredients I brought,” Onion replied.  Y/N froze.  “I didn’t fucking poison it dumbass.”

“Well how am I supposed to know, hm?”  Y/N spat.

“We’re eating food… from the same pot.”

“Oh yeah huh.”  Y/N hastily resumed their eating as Onion shook his head.  Y/N pondered as they ate.  “Hey… you’ve been acting different lately.  You’re less…”

“Less what?”

“Less annoying,” Y/N deadpanned.

“...thanks?”

“You’re more… enjoyable to be around I guess.”  Onion felt his face go a bit warm, having never heard those from their voice.  He stared down at his bowl as he felt it go to his ears.  “Woah,” he heard Y/N say.  “You’re red as fuck.”

“Yeah, wonder who’s fault that is,” Onion retorted.  Y/N chuckled at that as they stood up to grab more soup.  The TV was all that filled the room as Onion felt his brain restarting.  Rain began to patter against the windows.  “I guess you’re not that annoying too, enjoyable, even…”  Y/N froze up too, almost dropping the soup filled ladle.  They quickly shook their head as they put the bowl back on the table, mimicking what Onion had just done.  Shyness is cute on them…?  Onion was considering things immensely now.

With the change in attitude from his supposed academic rival, his emotions have been askew these past days.  The lack of brattiness left a hole.  Something, such as a shift in the force, had changed his whole routine entirely.

“Fuck off,” Y/N spat.

“Nah.”

“Whore.”

“Eat shit and die,” Onion smirked.

“That’s my fucking line,” Y/N gasped dramatically at their own words being used against them.

“Oh whatever,” Onion chuckled fondly.

19 hours, 5AM.

The two sat in Y/N’s living room now as they chatted and argued about anything they could find.  During Onion’s dramatic listing of every time he’s won against Y/N, he noticed them staring long and hard at their bedroom door.

“Earth to dumbass, what’s up?”

“I should get a start on some of my other assignments.  So close to finishing yet...” Y/N let out a harsh sigh.  “You probably want to head back to yours anyways.”  Onion sat upright at this.  “See, like a fucking dog–”

“No.”  Y/N raised an eyebrow?

“Fuck you mean, no?”  Onion himself didn’t even know what he meant.

“No as in… I’m not going home?”

“Suit yourself.”  Y/N got up and went to their bedroom, leaving Onion dumbfounded on the couch.

No?  What am I even going to do here…  He took a deep breath before walking over to Y/N’s bedroom.  They were already at work on their laptop.

“Hey, I’m gonna go,” Onion muttered.

“Figured, I’ll see you out then.”  Y/N led the way to the door while Onion trudged along behind them with his work bag.  

“Are you actually showing up tomorrow,” Onion snickered.  His face turned to an unreadable expression the second he noticed Y/N look away silently with a stone face as they pondered it.

“Nah, fuck that,” Y/N chuckled dryly.  An idea popped into Onion’s mind.

“Burned out?”

“What?”  Y/N knew what he was talking about of course, but the fact that Onion even questioned it felt out of character for him.  “So what if I am,” Y/N snapped.

“Well… you know that’s not healthy…”  Onion started.

“Yes, but it got everything done so I don’t see why—”

“Because you worried me.”  Y/N’s eyes widened.

“I worried you?”  

“Yes.”  By now the both of them were staring at each other in the entrance to Y/N’s apartment, neither of them moving and the silence filled with their heavy breaths.  Onion stepped forth and held out both of his hands.  Y/N gave a sharp look at him as he gestured towards them, keeping them outstretched.  Y/N hesitantly put their hands in his.

“You can’t just say that…” 

“I can’t?”  They dropped his hands.

“No, it.. It’s confusing for me.”  Onion leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket.

“It’s confusing for me too, you know,” Onion whispers, averting his gaze to the ground.  Perhaps if he stared hard enough, the wall and him would combine as one and he’d be able to leave.  Taking care of his little siblings was one thing, comforting someone his age was another.  There was a reason he resorted to talking to his friends online.

“Hey…”  Y/N stepped forward, their hand twitching.  “What’s on your mind, if you don’t mind my asking?”  A faint smile was painted on his face.  After all this, they’re still so kind.

“I.. don’t mind per say.”  His bag weighed heavily on his shoulder, pulling his heart to the ground in ache.  “I’m just not sure I know how exactly to say,” he sighed.  A gentle finger laced with one of his own as Y/N hooked them together.  Looking up in confusion, they dragged him over to the sofa.  

“Let’s start from the beginning shall we?”

After a couple hours, the two had made up that night, and with help from Y/N’s visitor and a sleepover numerous late assignments were turned in.  Now, it’s been a whole week since that night.

“Hey, you know you don’t have to keep coming over,” Y/N laughed as they stirred the miso in the pot as normal.  This routine came back immediately.  Onion coming over to Y/N’s, the smell of miso soup filling the apartment after settling down for a few minutes.  A chat about interests along with plenty of time for assignments.

“Yeah well, you make my day plenty more interesting, ‘you know,’” Onion mocked.  Feigning offense, the miso soup pot was set in the middle of the counter with a cork mat underneath.  As Onion grabbed himself a portion, Y/N strolled over to the TV and turned it on for background noise.  

“Yeah yeah, oh how I must brighten your oh so, dark, dreadful, drowsy days.”  Laughter filled the apartment, almost drowning out the TV noise.

“...festival lasts for a few days, but, due to fortunate circumstances, will be held during local schools' vacation days.”  The TV listed the dates as the two college students looked at each other.  “Not to mention, the Winter Festival is known for the competitive nature that it brings to it’s attendees with the plethora of games, contests, and more, only here at…”  

“That’s our Winter break dates huh…” Onion smirked. 

Y/N cleared their throat.  “Would you care to join me to this, uh, ‘friendly’ festival?”

“Oh,” Onion leaned forward.  “It’s on.”

[nuwanda24]

Take Me to Church - Merlin

Just realised how perfect Hozier's Take Me to Church fits Merlin:

"A fresh poison each week" - it's meant metaphorically, but we all know how literal that is in the context of Merlin. There's not a single week that goes by without some magical threat or someone trying to poison/otherwise assassinate Arthur

"We were born sick, you heard them say it" - Merlin was born with magic, he's magic incarnate; Arthur on the other hand only got conceived through magic, so they were both "born sick" from Uther's of view

"If I'm a pagan of the good times" - Merlin basically is a God of the Old Religion, a pagan belief that symbolises the "good time" in which magic was free

"My lover's the sunlight" - Arthur is, as is well established in the fandom, extremely sun-coded, not only visualy with his golden hair. He is the crown prince, later king, everybody looks up to him while noone dares to come too close (despite Merlin). He burns with an incredible brightness for his people, for Camelot, but in the end, he burns out, just as every sun will do eventually. Merlin, on the other hand, is the night or moon to Arthur's sun. He keeps in Arthur's shadow, never seeking attention or retribution for all that he has done. He has to work in the dark in order to ensure that Arthur and by extend Camelot can be safe. He hates it (remember his rant in S3E11 "I hate it, to be the most powerful person I know and to have to act like a shadow, to be special and to have to play the fool"), but he willingly and glady sacrifices his own light so that Arthur's can burn brighter.

"To keep the goddess on my side" - I don't remember if this is canon or just something that most of the fanfics I've read agreed on, but the Triple Goddess is presumably responsible for the whole prophecy regarding Emrys and the Once and Future King, and Merlin needs to keep her on his side, in order to fulfill his destiny.

"She demands a sacrifice" - this could either be the Cailleach in S4E1-2 The Darkest Hour who demands a life as sacrifice to close the veil between the world of the living and the dead; or it is about Arthur, who needs to die in order to be able to rise again in Albion's greatest time of need.

The Bridge is: "No masters or kings when the ritual begins / There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin / In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene / Only then, I am human, only then, I am clean". - that part is less concret, but it still reminds me of Arthur's death scene - only Arthur and Merlin are left to witness it, there are no knights, no Gwen, no Camelot, no titles or rank, nothing but the two of them and their love for each other, the bond they share. And I think that in many instances Arthur was the one who kept Merlin in touch with his humanity. Yes, he was also the reason why Merlin crossed boundary after boundary, making him hate himself more and more and making him believe himself to be a monster, but I don't think he's ever felt as human (and as powerless) as the moment he felt Arthur die in his arms.

And then there's the chorus: "I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies" - Merlin worships Arthur, there's nothing he wouldn't do for that man, no matter how much he insults him or how hypocritical his actions might be. Arthur can break any promise, tell any lie (not that he does that very often), Merlin will still be there. And in the end, like Odysseus' dog Argus, he waited and waited on the shores of Avalon for the day that Arthur might finally come back to him.

"I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife" - I mean, that's literally what happens. Merlin tells Arthur about his powers, and you can't tell me that he wouldn't have allowed him (after he'd have forced him to get healed and ensured that Arthur would live) to put any punishment upon him, even death, that he wouldn't have preferred to die by Arthur's knife than to have to live without him.

"Offer me that deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life" - how often does Merlin offer his own life for Arthur's? From the very episode on, he throws himself between his prince and everything and everyone trying to harm him, from knives over curses, to drinking poison and Dorochas. And there were so many instances where he should have died but didn't, suffering (or surviving) a deathless death.

The song just perfectly depicts Merlin's (unhealthy) devotion to his king, and how that feeds on his soul.

[klbwriting]

Adventures In Atlantean-Sitting

Chapter 13

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: violence

Summary: YN goes to save Orm

Notes: Here it is, the end! I hope you enjoyed! Comments/critiques are appreciated

Orm waited until they were halfway to the beach before he started fighting the guards. His hands were bound so he threw his weight into one of soldiers holding him, knocking him to the ground, causing the other to let go of Orm in surprise. Orm jumped back, dodging as another guard tried to grab him. He started to run when a shot passed his head, nearly clipping him. He stopped and turned. Orlan was holding the pulsar, now aimed right for Orm’s head. Orlan’s eyes were narrow, his face reddened.

“The next one will kill you; I don’t care if the council wants you alive,” he said. The guards watched as he approached Orm, grabbing onto his arm roughly. “I have wanted to kill you for years, do not tempt me now, my son is supposed to do the honor.” His voice was low so only Orm could hear but it just confirmed his suspicions. Leo was going to ‘attack’ the convoy taking Orm back to Atlantis and he was meant to be a casualty in the crossfire. He let Orlan guide him back to the others and let the soldiers take hold of him again. The whole delay was only around two minutes, he just hoped that was enough time for YN and Arthur to get ready.

YN noticed the beach was quiet, she and Arthur were seemingly the only ones around. They were currently holed up in lifeguard’s shack, watching for signs of Leo and any men he had brought. Arthur had contacted Mera, Nereus, and Atlanna, they were ready and waiting in the shallows. Arthur was antsy, wanting to get this over with and hopefully get his power back. He didn’t realize what he could do with the power he had until he lost it. Already the council was trying to undo his work in bridging the gap between the surface and the sea and he needed to be reinstated to get back on track. YN just wanted to get Orm back to her cottage and their life together. Finally, she saw Orlan and his guards with Orm, walking him down the beach.

“Hold until Leo shows himself,” YN said, noticing Arthur getting ready to throw open the door. He eyed her.

“I am a king you know,” he grumbled. She rolled her eyes. He hmphed and sat back again, watching.

They had just passed the lifeguard shack when Leo and nearly a dozen Atlanteans emerged from under the boardwalk nearby. They aimed their weapons at Orlan and the guards. YN watched the guards. They seemed genuinely confused, Orlan, however, was probably the worst actor she had ever seen.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice louder than necessary. Leo smirked and became just as bad an actor as his father.

“I have come to take my revenge from the tyrant king for trying to banish us,” Leo said. “Step aside and you will not die today, leave the prisoner with me for execution.” Orlan held up a hand.

“Enough, we do not need to shed blood tod…” he never finished. Leo shot his father in the chest. This was surprising. Arthur, YN, and the rest of those hiding came out of their places, weapons ready, but confused.

“Finally,” Leo said. “Come on, I am going to kill that bastard king, but I was so tired to dancing to that idiot’s tune.” His men all aimed their weapons as the guards, ready to fire.

“Stop!” Arthur yelled. Leo rolled his eyes.

“Why? What could you, a half-breed, possibly say to stop this?” he asked. YN was reminded of a petulant child who needed a nap. Arthur stepped forward, next to Orm. Leo re-aimed at Arthur.

“Whoa, calm down there Terminator, I just want to know why you shot your dad, weren’t you both trying some kind of coup?” he asked. Leo let out an aggravated breath.

“Yes, but that old asshole would have just used the coup to become King of Atlantis. Why just Atlantis?” he asked. “So now, I kill everyone and then I…take over everything. Where Orm tried to be Ocean Master I will become Ocean Master, I will take Atlan’s trident from your cold dead hands, and then after I am ruler of the seas I will come here to the surface, now, fire away.” His men tried to fire but found their weapons useless. “What the hell?” YN held up a device, red light blinking on it.

“O, sorry, those are useless now thanks to my friend here,” she said. She put the device in a pocket and held up another, a tranquilizer gun. She was able to get off two shots, taking out two of Leo’s men before he started hand to hand combat. Orm moved aside, going to a guard who, after a few moments of contemplation, freed him from his restraints. He wasn’t given a weapon, but he didn’t need one. Arthur and Atlanna fought together with their tridents while Mera sent sharpened water with pinpoint accuracy. The Atlantean soldiers who had come with Orlan fought also. All the while YN was dodging, firing tranqualizer darts at any of Leo’s men. She finally was able to sneak up behind Leo, pressing a tack into his neck and holding her Atlantean dagger to his throat.

“Hold!” Leo yelled. He only had a couple fighting soldiers left but everyone froze at his cry. YN glared, looking at him. Nereus darted off, going to get reinforcements from Atlantis. “Going to kill me surface scum?”

“I should, for everything you’ve done, for hurting people in my city, for trying to kill me, for trying to frame Orm. I should kill you, but I don’t think they want me to do that, they need someone to arrest and prosecute,” she said. Leo laughed. “Something funny?”

“Who is going to arrest me? This is clearly an attack that Orm and you planned. I was trying to help my father contain the threat when you killed him, and his men, and then tried to kill me,” he said. Atlanna shook her head.

“I do not think anyone will believe your story Leo,” she said. “We have proof of everything that has happened here.” She motioned to the camera on top of the lifeguard shack. Leo glared, snarling. He moved, surprising YN, knocking her back into the sand and disarming her. He turned, bringing the dagger she had just been holding down, the tip just inches from her chest when a strong hand grabbed his wrist. Orm used all his strength, knowing that Leo had none at the moment, and threw the man to the ground.

“You almost killed her once and I promised that the next time I saw you I would kill you,” Orm said, grabbing the knife himself. He picked Leo to stand, the knife once again at his throat. YN stood, putting her hand to Orm’s shoulder. He took a deep breath. YN wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want him to kill again, cause more pain and bloodshed. “But I don’t think I will.” He pushed Leo towards Arthur, who had him restrained along with the rest of his men. The victors lined the prisoners up on the beach just in time for the council and more soldiers to arrive. By then Orm and YN were safe in the shack, hiding out again.

Arthur showed the video to the council, explaining that Orm had been caught, along with the traitor from the surface, however Leo had intervened, and they had disappeared in the fighting. Atlanna also presented the evidence they had found that cleared Orm of the surface attacks. He was still wanted for his escape from the deserter prison and for trying to hurt the heir to the throne, but these attacks were not his. The council seemed satisfied, taking Leo and his men back to Atlantis. Once everything was clear Orm and YN returned to the cottage.

“Do you think we should find a new place to live?” YN asked a few weeks later. She was nervous, wondering if the council would return. Arthur assured her that his power was back in place and that the council thought Orm and her were far away, in Russia, and they were safe. But she still worried. Orm walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind as they looked out the front window. “No, I think we are safe here, in our witch’s house in the woods,” he said, kissing her head. She smiled and leaned to him, taking a deep breath. They were still in hiding, but at least they weren’t alone.

[lizardperson]

attitude problems

[on ao3]

Admiral Cornwell shares a drink with the Emperor. If only that woman wouldn't get under her skin so much...

fandom: star trek discovery characters: katrina cornwell/mirror!philippa georgiou rating: m wc: 659 prompt: day 4 "drop the attitude." for katoberfest 2024 @theadmiralslegion

---

"What's she like?"

A raised eyebrow. "Who?"

Katrina took a sip from her whiskey glass. "The other - me."

"What makes you think I know her?" Philippa gave her that damn smirk again. No, not Philippa - the Emperor. The tyrant from the other universe, who had probably killed more people than the entire Klingon fleet in this whole war combined, and enjoyed it. Not Philippa.

"Just a feeling." That flash of recognition when they first met. The way she looked at her now. There must have been a shared history, and Katrina needed to know what it was.

The Emperor chuckled and watched the whiskey swirl around in her glass before finally answering. "Smart. Cunning. Very ruthless." She looked up. "Not so different from you, actually."

You know nothing about me. "Is she still alive?"

"No. He killed her."

Of course he did. Katrina had never hated someone as much as him. The other Lorca. The imposter. Bastard. Maybe one day she would be able to forgive herself for not seeing it. Not very likely, though.

"What was your relationship?"

"My, so many questions, Admiral." And again that damn smirk. "Almost makes me suspect this is some kind of interrogation, and not just a chat between friends."

"Didn't think you had any," Katrina snorted. "Friends, that is. And I am definitely not one of them."

"Pity. I think we'd make great friends, actually."

"I disagree."

Katrina emptied the rest of her glass and turned towards the window, watching the stars. Of course it wasn't exactly smart to turn her back on that woman, but right now, she just couldn't stand looking at her face anymore.

"You were close. You and Captain Georgiou."

Always that mocking tone. Katrina suppressed a snarky response, and the urge to slap that attitude out of her. She shouldn't even answer the question, the Emperor would only find ways to use it against her eventually. But on the other hand, she wouldn't be able to deny it convincingly anyway.

"Yes."

"Lovers?"

Katrina laughed at that choice of words - she hadn't suspected that to be part of the Emperor's vocabulary. "In a way."

Definitely in a carnal sense, though not romantically. But Katrina had loved her, still did, and missed her every day. If there was such a thing as soulmates - there wasn't, of course - then Philippa would have been it. She never took the time to properly grieve her death, so meeting the Emperor was all the more painful. That woman, who was so much like Philippa - and at the same time very much wasn't. What a cruel twist of irony that the two people Katrina cared most about came haunting her from another universe. At least in this case, she knew it wasn't her Philippa.

The Emperor stepped up behind her, and Katrina was acutely aware of how little space there was left between them now. "I think we should be friends," the Emperor declared and put a hand on Katrina's waist, then slowly slid it down, stopping at her hip. "Intimate friends."

"Sorry, not looking for any currently. And I suggest you remove your hand," Katrina remarked dryly, but made no attempt to bring some distance between them - which she really should. This was entirely too close. Dangerous, in so many ways.

The Emperor leaned in to her ear, standing at almost the same height as Katrina in those ridiculous heels. "Do you ever drop the attitude, Admiral?

"No. Do you?"

The hand wandered further up again. "No."

In an instant, Katrina turned around, grabbed the Emperor by the throat, and pushed her against the bulkhead, glaring at her. Their faces were close, too close, and the Emperor held her gaze, again with that mocking smirk that Katrina despised so much.

Did she hate her? She wanted to.

I miss you.

Katrina bridged those last few inches between their faces and kissed her. This was such a mistake.

She almost felt like Philippa, too.

[hecalledme-jagi]

hi! i'm so upset after picking up mystic messenger again so i wanted to ask if you could do a zen x MC hc, but they're both aware that they are in different dimensions and will never be together... but they see each other in their dreams!!

(Bruh I wrote this a yr ago and completely forgot about it. Sorry Anon ;;;)

Anon, you hurt me so T_T I love the angst, but why!? ＿|￣|○

I am a weak, weak, woman for Zen angst and now I must offer it to you and the rest of this fandom. I must break my heart for this man, AGAIN! For you, Anon, I will dive back into the depths of despair. On that note, I hope you enjoy, or feel sad(??).

Sorry for the delay, but fitting that I write Zen angst on my 6th MysMe Anniversary LOL

Zen and MC in Different Dimensions

- Zen could feel when you missed him. It’s a warm yet heartbreaking feeling that rests in his chest and stings in his eyes.

- You could feel Zen’s thoughts of you. They’re constant and lovely but left you melancholic and lonely.

- He knew when you were thinking of him or talking about him because suddenly everything appeared so much brighter.

- You knew when he longed for you because bright and unhindered smiles always seemed to paint your face.

- Sometimes he swore he could hear your voice and your beautiful laughter when he was going about his day.

- Sometimes his laughter was all you could hear and all you wanted to hear.

- Zen often wondered if you got the same feelings he did. Did your heart feel unbearably warm when he missed you? Did your world light up when he talked about you or thought of you? Did you hear his laughter and his voice throughout the day?

- The answer was yes, a thousand times over, with every ounce of love, joy, and sadness.

- And sadly, he would never know, but he knew one thing for sure, sharing dreams was something you both looked forward to.

- Knowing you could only reach each other in your dreams, made sleep the most treasured thing either of you could ask for.

- In those dreams, he could hold you and offer you the affections he couldn’t in the waking hours of the day. He’s created vast and beautiful worlds in those dreams, hoping each one would make your waking hours a little more bearable.

- He made sure that those dreams encouraged you to live in reality bc that’s where you truly belonged, but deep down he wished that sleep would never end and he could stay with you.

- On the hardest days, when his feelings of loneliness became more than he could take, when his insecurities raged and roared at him, when life got too difficult to bear; all he wanted was to sleep and be where you are.

- To feel your warmth and comfort, support and love.

- He wanted, so desperately, to bridge those distant dimensions for as long as possible, even if it became unhealthy.

- But what good would that do? He would only be dragging you down with him, and he could never do that to you.

- Furthermore, he knew, better than anyone else, that you would want him to continue living and perusing his dreams, the same way he wanted that for you.

- So, sleeping until you wake, would be enough.

- Holding you until morning came.

- Kissing you until daybreak.

- Sweet nothings until sunrise.

- Laughter until first light.

- Loving you, and you loving him, without limit or requisite.

- He would take his fill, searing ever inch of you into his memory. Filling his cup until it overflowed with you, hoping it would bleed into the day that followed. Hoping it would make up for the lack of you in his world.

- Hoping maybe one day that the yearning you shared would somehow turn the two dimensions into one, where he could finally have your scent cling to his clothes and melt into his skin. Where he could have you part of his life, morning, noon, and night. Where sleep wasn’t the only place he could find you. Where loving you beyond a screen and short lived dreams was no longer a wish, but rather something mixed with normalcy.

˚✧₊⁎𝒥𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎⁎⁺˳✧༚

I do not own any characters, all ownership goes to Cheritz. Thanks for reading!

[marimeeko]

Jumping off of @dekacchannn's post about Nana saying the ofa verse is romantic and "dying in the middle of the road" (i am taking this to mean an expression of the middle of the road being like the middle of their journey or something to do more with time; dying before her time)and how that exact phrase is apparently echoed with Katsukis death... and their hypothesis that Bakugou is in fact connected to OFA and will SPIRITUALLY rather than physically come to Izukus aid in the very final battle with Shig...

Katsuki meets All Mights vestige, and I wonder now if All Might is basically going to be the bridge. Like, he takes Katsuki in some way to the OFA verse, to Izuku and Shig.

Symbolically, it kind of echoes the fact that they have always developed around the same idol and that is shared so deeply its spiritual, as is AMs affinity for them.

...depending on how AMs battle with AFO goes, I wonder of it does end with AM dying, mentor-trope style, All Might would finally form fully in the OFA verse. I wonder of he would first materialize to Katsuki since he is currently "with" him (however that works between OFA and katsuki)

What I'm saying is, the fandom is on to katsuki somehow being connected to OFA now and while yes heroes rising is technically Canon, It would still be a little stretchy for that big of a development to have been in a movie only to be literally forgotten by Kats and brought up only at the tail end BUT

I think personally, that the root here is that ALL MIGHT and his legacy, which the boys share, might be the connection?? And like poetically, that really fits the story, because the two have been touted as two halves of All Might for a very long time in the story. The legacy of AM has ALWAYS connected them.

If kats is seeing AM and AM is connected to OFA, then he might literally be the connection. (And not necessarily the connection he made with Izuku in HR that was retconned at the end of the movie by the handy dandy trope of amnesia on Bakugous part)

Also I think I reject the idea that Kats is just seeing an image of AM in his dying moments because then why does he appear literally and exactly the same way as he does in the OFA verse? If that was the vibe that Hori wanted, kats could just be seeing a foggy, otherworldly vision of mortal AM as he would normally see him to differentiate, and like Kats wearing his uniform, would be a comfort of familiarity. But it's All Mights vestige, which Kats has no prior visual context for.

I feel like, therefore, All Mights vestige appearing before him is a force that is acting independently of Katsuki,appearing TO Katsuki, rather than merely a vision constructed by Katsukis subconscious as he, well, passes away(almost).

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged on this by @unexpectedstormy ! I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to respond like it was a chain or make my own post, so I just went for it

1. How many works do you have on A03?

Two. There will be more coming, because Blood Drops on Roses is just arc one of this story, and there's a lot of snippets for Prologue floating around.

Blood Drops on Roses: Linked Universe

BDOR Prologue: The Yiga and The Sheikah

2. What's your total A03 word count?

51,493 words since mid-August, when I finally got an account XD I've been a lurker for YEARS ya'll.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Linked Universe only, so far.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

See above XD I hope to get enough fics out there that I can sort my work like that, but for now it's just those two.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I respond as soon as I can, they are like crack to me. Maybe because I'm new to sharing my work or something, but I would die for each and every one of you that leaves even as much as a <3

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

NONE OF MY FICS ARE FINISHED YET AAAAAAAAAA. Arc 1's ending is going to be pretty angsty though.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hm, I see that this questionnaire is not meant for me. There is a Prologue section "The Trap" that I'll be putting out soon through, its ending is pretty sweet I would say.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet. I am afraid that it's gonna happen, but so far everyone has been so nice, so I hope not D:

9. Do you write smut?

Nah. Don't really read it either. Just not my thing.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I mean unless you count LU as a crossover between all the Link's respective fandoms, no

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Gosh I hope not. How does one steal a fic?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. If I ever get good enough at Spanish, I would like to take a crack at translating my own fic once its all published, but it would probably be laughably terrible. Eh, practice is practice.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet. Hey @needfantasticstories, I think Clippy Wind and Pug Sky need to go on some adventures together, don't you?

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Tbh I don't really ship. I do think Malon/Time and Legend/Ravio are cute though. I'm just not really interested in exploring the romantic side of stories, even in published literature.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Geez I hope that I finish all of Arc 2 at this point. But I may be too early into the game to answer this.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Heck if I know. I had someone say in my comment section that they liked how I characterize people, so we'll go with that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write too much and probably in too much detail. Sometimes it would be better to say "They crossed the bridge and set up camp" but nooooooooooo lets add 7,000 words to this already bloated fic.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Italics. I was about to whip out my decade of Latin for part of this fic, but I decided against it because I'm pretentious but not that pretentious. Also because I still don't understand word order at ALL.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Now that I'm thinking about it, I think I have some fanfic from the dog series of Warrior Cats lurking somewhere that I wrote when I was like 12. Survivors, or something? I should probably go delete it, I'm sure it's trash. I'm scared to even look, it probably hasn't seen the light of day since I wrote it.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Well I've only got one big fic out right now so let's go with BDOR

@needfantasticstories and @somer-writes I'm kicking this your way.

[rayisatadbitcrazy]

XVI The Tower

silly little secret life fic about lizzie dying that I haven't posted to ao3 yet

Fandom: Secret Life SMP

Characters: Ldshadowlady, Dangthatsalongname (Scott smajor)

General tags/warnings: Major character death, canon compliant, angst, trying to kill a man just cause your husband asked you to

Word count: 1424

Lizzie smiled as she hopped down the steps, her space buns grazed the cold stone. The target followed behind her, every few steps she cranes her back to look at Scott.

“Lizzie,” he didn't sound nervous. Good. False sense of security or something, “We've been friends for a long time.”

Oh? “We have.” The rough granite provided a good break of emotionless gray.

Scott took a breath, Lizzie could almost feel the staircase closing in on them as tension cut through the air, “I need you to be honest with me.”

“Yes.” Honestly, she didn't frame it as a question, a warm welcome for Scott to continue speaking. Something short. Something to just show she was listening.

“If I walk in here am I gonna die?”

“If you walk in? Like–do you think it's trapped?” She hadn't actually thought about that. What if it was trapped? She didn't trap it, but that wouldn't stop someone who'd been spending a lot of time in the end from trapping the end portal.

“Maybe.”

“Do you want me to go first?” Jeez, how long is this staircase? It seemed to go on forever, “And I'll show you it's not.”

“Eh, I think I want to go first.”

“You want to go first.” The smile was evident in her voice, although she could be far from happy, “Okay, you go first.”

Finally, they made it to the portal, Lizzie had become quite desensitized to the glow and whispers that came off from the eyes in the frame. It was creepy. But Lizzie loved creepy. And cute things. Cute-creepy! The portal was creepy-creepy, though.

“I can't believe I'm fulfilling all of my dreams by having people come to the end and my slumber party! Why couldn't everyone do this last week?” She sighed as she stepped up the stone brick stairs, a black void filled the middle of the portal, specks of green and blue and purple came out from it.

They nodded at each other, promising to see each other on the other side as they jumped into the slimy substance that transported them to the end.

The purple atmosphere greeted her, her heels clicked as she landed on the obsidian platform. This has proven to be a dangerous place, when she'd been here before to watch the dragon fight.

Scratch that thought. This whole world had proven to Lizzie that it was unforgiving.

She was murdered. That wasn't kind or fair. She didn't deserve any of the crap she got slapped with last week. Today she swore revenge on everyone.

Everyone but Joel. Joel. That's why she's here. To kill Scott for Joel.

Scott was already across the cobblestone bridge that led from the floating stone to the main island. The yellowy endstone was bright in contrast to the almost ashy-purple air, she squinted as she balanced across the two-block wide bridge.

Click. Click. Click.

“Ah, do you remember when we were last here, and the Ender Dragon was here? Wasn't it great?” She reminisced, following Scott up a makeshift staircase that had been mined out for the sake of easy access to the mainland.

Scott held out a hand, helping Lizzie up before she took off running, “Now follow me, just over here!”

Lizzie laughed, leading Scott to the furthest cliff side of the floating island. Honestly, she would've thought Scott smarter than this. Following a red name, to the end, to the void, to the edge overlooking certain death, was kinda stupid.

Oh well, if he wanted to make her job easy she wouldn't complain.

“There's something I need you to see!”

“To be fair, this works for me,” Scott's monotone voice almost echoed here. “because Jimmy's been hunting me down all day. So…”

“Oh yeah, he's never gonna find you here!” She bounced, leaning up and down on her heels as she waited for Scott to catch up. “Nobody is ever going to find you here!”

Scott laughed, his hand shot up to cover his mouth and his eyes crinkled as he closed them, “Why'd you say it like that?”

“Say it like what?”

He looked away, the beginnings of a sentence he'd never finish left his mouth.

“Okay! Follow me!”

This part of the island ended in a point overlooking the vast emptiness of purple. Just purple.

“Oh, this looks like the edge of the world.”

“Yeah it's just down here, “ Lizzie fished an ender-pearl out from her bag, holding it in her hand. “Follow me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, follow me. It's just–is it?” She peered over the edge, pretending to search for something specific. She only found a void.

“I don't think I want to.”

“It is! It's right there!”

Scott is smart. Whatever she thought before was a lie. He walked over, water bucket in hand, “Can I place some water down? To be safe?”

“I was gonna give you an ender-pearl to be safe!” She huffed, holding up the small crystal-like balls. 

“Oh, yeah? That'd be good. Yeah, I'll take that.”

“Just in case. Here's the ender-pearl.” She dropped it down on the edge of the cliff, watching with wide eyes as Scott swiftly went to collect the item.

The moment he turned his back, she grabbed her axe and swung, the metal of her weapon clanked against his diamond shoulder plate, leaving a wicked dent in the blue armor.

“Lizzie!” He gasped, slipping past her.

“Oh.” She looked guiltily at her feet, shifting them slightly. “This has not gone very well.”

“You did three hearts of damage!”

Oh! “Wow! That's quite a lot!” She swooped in and attacked again, this time she didn't hit as hard as she meant to, leaving a scratch on an elbow pad he wore.

She almost hit him off the edge. She saw the fear in his eyes. And oh gods. It was delicious. Fear and tension fed her as her eyes darted all around Scott. Pairs of glowing purple eyes shine from behind him.

If she killed Scott, not only would Lizzie be getting revenge for herself, but she'd be helping Joel. It was a win-win for the only two important people involved.

“That was one heart of damage.”

“Oh…” She looked down, “That's not a lot…”

“No–” Scott tried to begin, but was shoved to the side.

Lizzie screamed, large hands gripped her throat. She met Scott's gaze for a moment before she was thrown backwards. Her elbows scrapped the uneven ground, cutting open the skin that grazed the stone. Her blood stained the ground as she slid across it and off the edge. She tried her best to grip the side, but the creature came for her throat once more.

The enderman banged her against the ground, beating her face into the stone. She wildly gripped for something—anything—ws she got pushed closer and closer over the sudden edge of the island. It grabbed onto her as they fell into the void, forcing its hands around her throat. Tears welled up in her lashes, she clutched the goopy item in her hand, the calming blue-green failed to do anything.

She stared at it in its ugly distorted face, its glowing purple eyes, stunning it for enough time to push it away from her. 

She fell, only being able to attempt to catch her breath as the creature flailed just next to her, more concerned with the fact that the was void eating away at it than how Lizzie glanced at it.

Scott stared down at Lizzie as she fell, watching as the oxygen left her lungs and the void consumed her.

Her hands were the first things to numb in the cold, turning purple. It hurt. It hurt so badly.

This is all a bad dream, she decided. All a bad dream.

She's going to wake up at her sleepover, the whole server surrounding her, Joel holding her hand, cake with candles in the middle of her house.

The tingling pain moved from her fingertips to her bloody elbows, then her shoulders and chest. Her lungs collapsed. She couldn't breathe. The creature had stopped screaming. Maybe it accepted its death.

She couldn't think straight, the lack of oxygen got to her, making her dizzy. She had to force her eyes to stay open.

The ender-pearl! She knew it wouldn't work, but she tried anyway. Throwing it as hard as she could, up at the island.

This was embarrassing. Her whole life was embarrassing.

The last thing she heard was an explosion, muffled by the noise of the wind in her ears. 

[lilyoffandoms]

Crimes & Nightbound Crossover Drabble (Nik x Alex & Trystan x Gabriel)

Thank you @ladylamrian for the brilliant of idea of this writer event! I find it so fortuitous that twice now I have hosted events based on your wonderful idea! Thank you for writing for our little fandom! I am lucky to know you and even luckier to call you a friend. I can’t wait to see what you come up with next 😘

Warnings & A/N: I’ll give this crossover a go just for you 😘 Since you don’t have a finalized CoP MC or Trystan I’ll use my Gabriel and their Trystan.

“Excuse me?” Trystan laughed. “Did you just say you know a guy?” He paused and looked at the detective in surprise, a pleased grin growing on his face with each passing moment. “You? Know a guy? A guy that deals in the supernatural?”

“Yes.” Gabriel frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Trystan chuckled. “I just never thought you’d believe in that sort of thing much less know a guy.”

“I never said I believed in that nonsense. But I know someone that does and he can help us with a new lead on this case.”

“Okay but how do you know someone like that?”

“I got to know him on a case he was called in to consult on when I was still on the force.”

“What case?” Trystan asked with way too much interest. “Was it loose werewolves, rogue vampires, fae messing with the mayor’s son?”

“Vampires.”

“Ha! No way! For real?”

“No, not for real? You know vampires don’t exist, right?”

“Bet your consultant thinks they do,” Trystan smirked.

“That’s his job. Of course he does. But regardless, he’s in New York this week on business. I’ll call him.”

“I can’t wait to meet him. He sounds fascinating,” Trystan leaned across the table as Gabriel made the call.

“I would temper my expectations if I were you. He’s not,” Gabriel paused and looked at Trystan before deciding to say, “he’s not whatever you’re picturing him to be,” they chuckled at Trystan’s disappointment before cutting off when the call obviously connected.

An hour later a leather clad man walked through the agency doors followed by a woman in similar clothing.

“Nik,” Gabriel said as they stood and shook hands with the man. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too. It’s been awhile.”

“Heard about your escapades down in New Orleans. Glad to see you made it out in one piece.”

“You and me both,” Nik smiled.

“Nik Ryder, this is my partner Trystan Thorne. Thorne, this is Nik, the guy I know,” Gabriel teased the last.

“Pleasure to meet you, Nik,” Trystan said as he shook the offered hand.

“Likewise. This is Alex. My partner. Alex, this is Gabriel. We worked that coven war here together.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Alex,” Gabriel smiled knowingly at Nik. “Can’t believe you agreed to partner with this one.”

“He’s prickly but can’t say I mind. I like a good challenge,” Alex shook Gabriel’s hand enthusiastically. “It’s nice to finally meet you. He’s always spoken highly of you,” she said to Gabriel before turning to Trystan.

“I heard you were in New York playing detective,” she smiled as she offered her hand to Trystan who took it and placed a kiss atop it.

“And I heard you were playing ghost hunter down in New Orleans,” Trystan teased.

“Wait? Do you two know each other?” Nik asked.

“How do you know her?” Gabriel asked at the same time as Nik.

Alex and Trystan turned to face both of them, the same mischievous smile on their faces.

“Alex and I have attended many a boring royal function together,” Trystan shrugged with a smirk.

“You’re royalty?” Gabriel asked.

“She is of a sort,” Nik said beside him. “But I hadn’t realized that involved meeting with kingdoms on this side of the veil.”

“Of course it does,” Alex grinned at Nik.

“Veil?” Gabriel asked.

“Alex is half fae,” Trystan explained.

Gabriel sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose. It was too early in the morning to deal with three believers in the supernatural.

“Let’s just get started,” they groaned.

——————————

All Choices Tag: @storyofmychoices @peonierose @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads

[sylvaridreams]

20 19 questions for writers

<- why did they lie to me about the #? i demand answers.

I was in bed and going to bed and then I saw that I was tagged by ANTA MY FRIEND @antariies so i got out of bed to answer these

tagging: um. well i dont know. teensie. do you write...? you have to do this then. even if you are in bed.

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

39 right now, but I know I've orphaned about that many as well

2. what fandoms do you write for?

right now... all guild wars 2.

previously I've done a lot of metro 2033, half life, jojo's bizarre adventure, digimon, katekyo hitman reborn... and then less of hlvrai, final fantasy vii, and fruits basket... gw2 is all i do for right now. <:)

3. what are your top 5 by kudos?

This is super skewed because I orphaned a tooooon of my more popular stuff but Nuclear Option, two other vrai fics, Lent (<- should be number 1 if we're being honest and true) and a fruits basket thing that i should have probably also orphaned. the overwhelming urge to orphan things to skew the data further. you have to hold me back

4. do you respond to comments?

yes but not in a timely fashion (last round took me. over a year before i replied to anything. pensive.

5. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I dunno about actually angsty.... the fic that makes me cry every time is butterfly bridge; I wrote it after having to put a pet to sleep. if I ever got around to writing more "portal to the metro" the ending would probably also rank up there. due to. the tragedies.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

proooooobably Lent? idk I feel like I get a lot of "fuck yeah that ending ohhh the catharsis" type reactions on Lent.

7. do you get hate on fics?

I have a number of times. sometimes anon but sometimes people put their names to it?

8. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes. sorry. the apologetic kind.

9. do you write crossovers?

not often... usually a crossover is a pretend thing just for me in my Imagination. however. portal to the metro... it was a roleplay between myself and a friend. and then i started writing it in earnest. and then i got tired. then i started writing primarily gw2 stuff. you understand. but someday I'll return to it. and then they'll all be sorry.

10. have you ever had a fic stolen?

um. kind of. when I was 17-18 I plotted out a fic I was working on and shared it with a couple of dear close friends. and then like a couple weeks later a massively popular person in the fandom in question posted my fic: their version. down to every little detail. 🙈 never found out which of my friends shared the planning with them.

11. have you ever co-written a fic before?

yeah, Pluto's Moon -- started 8 years ago, finished almost a year later... I wouldn't bother rereading it at this point but. it was a fun experience. we had fun. I also cowrote several chapters of a Reborn crossover fic with my long distance mmo friend when I was a freshman in high school. I don't think we ever got anywhere with it let alone posted it to FFN or anything-- I was handwriting short chapters between classes lol. I might still have those pages somewhere...

and then I think I would also consider portal to the metro a co-write in many ways. because it came from both of us :)

12. what's your all-time favorite ship?

well. I think Canach/Alba has been too prominent for too long for me not to say it. canon/oc numero uno!!!!!!

13. what's one WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i dont even wanna answer and jinx it nooooo cry2. I yearn to finish everything... i guess maybe I have some weird misc smut fics I don't anticipate finishing. due to the strangeness.

14. what are your writing strengths?

dialogue is my dearest sweetest friend. my sweetie pee

15. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i LIKE it! thumbs ups. am I GOOD at it? thumbs in the other directions

16. first fandom you wrote for?

Kingdom Hearts before I ever touched any of the games. (like 17-18 years ago)

17. favorite fic you've written?

I feel like my most recent is always my favoritest 😭 uhhhhg

The Echo (current project)

Drochshúil (recent work)

18. what are your writing weaknesses?

I have no pacing control. I can't meet goals, OR i'll go full crazy and write 160k in 2 weeks. you have to watch out because that can happen to you too if you just go off your antipsych meds for a while

also filling in the stuff AROUND dialogue. so often i'll be editing a fic and just (sighs) dama (me) you (i) can't just have 8 lines in a row of dialogue. what are these people doing in between talking. and then dama (me) is like alright wise guy why don't you take a crack at it if you're so smart. and i do. but in the moment of writing i'm not super good at figuring out the in betweeeeeeens.

also I feel like ending scenes and such is really hard. also getting characters from point a to point b (locations) without doing a timeskip to "well here we are at point b!"

19. have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone ask to do so with one of my metro fics, to repost on a Russian fanfic site; I wasn't particularly attached to the fic so I told them go ahead. but also I have no idea if it ever happened. heart hands. so maybe. there may have been another but I don't rember.

[bloogers-boogers]

So I've been getting into the sp fandom lately and let me tell u it's a must for me to do a one-shot.. It's gonna be a good attempt

One-shot SP

/CURSE/

(Kinda shipping? (Kyle/Cartman) Kinda trying to replicate the imagination land scene where Kyle dies an other various scenes, Cartman(important for the plot),Cartman and Kenny lore,some Stan against, and death of a main character. Kenny plays a role, also y'know death and resurrection that's he's thing.. right?)

It a pretty damn long One-shot.

It's been a common day in the little mountain town of Colorado called south park, Randy had arranged a parade/party at one of the most popular places in town 'DikinBaus' because of some festive weed special (trying to make it seem out of the ordinary weed when it comes to the same shit with a diffrent label) that Stan Marsh and his three other friends would care less about, well, atleast one. Eric Cartman.

Yes, the little evil master mind of south park.

Bitch was angry and quite bitter about the fact that his old home was no longer his, after being part of creating it's popularity. Though he did deserve it and his jewish friend made it know.

"I don't know why you're so pissed off, Cartman, you we're asking for it when you took advantage of Butters hard work," The latter roll his eyes.

"Whatever, it's Butters," He stated, as if it were obvious.

"Dude, just be grateful you got your old house back," Stan tune in, his tone was a little bit frustrated then it should've, luckily his fat friend payed not much attention to it. He wished he could move back, be close to his friends, have his old life back. But his father was farther than an idiot to just let go of his marijuana dream.

"How am I gonna be grateful about losing my DikinBaus!?," He exclaimed angry. Kenny, their blonde friend snorted, "shut up Kinny!."

"C'mon man, it's not a big deal," He patted the bigger boy's shoulder in hopes he'll just moved on from the subject. But ofcourse, he didn't.

"No! I can't leave it like this with out a fight!, I work hard for that shitty place to reopen, it's not fair!," He clenched he's fist, glaring at the nothing.

Both three boys just looked at each other, in a mutual agreement of not getting involved.

Later that day, Stan was forced to partake in the event host by his father, ofcourse not before arguing and complaining about it being just another waste of the income they made, for then later on his father to complain about how they had no money for more resources. Repeat all the time. Stan just hold the bridge of his nose outta frustration.

No boy his age should be this stress out for his parents doings, in this scenario, his dad.

"Hey Stan, check this out!," Exclaimed excited, Randy. The boy followed him, as he has no other choice but to listen.

"What the fuck is that," Stan questioned a little horrified, confused? He couldn't tell, cause he actually gave two shits. But this looked outta the ordinary of the ordinary. If that even makes sense.

There was a seagull looking mutation with what it seems like a rats feet. For a second there he was worried his father accidentally caught man bear pig's kid.

"It's the Tergrity farms mascot!," He exclaimed even more excited taking out a board outta nowhere, explaining his new strategy.

Oh. So that's that.

"Yeah, bye," said lastly, in a flat tone, no longer caring about the rest before returning outside.

Stan was not gonna get involved, no matter how bizarre and crazy his dad's Karen episodes get, he told himself for the millionth time that same day. He was NOT getting involved.

[...]

"For fuck sake dad! What did you do!?," He shouted confused by the change of event, being tied in a chair was far from the plans he had for this evening.

"Uh.. well, let's say it a TEGRITY strategy," Randy smiled commercially, clearly seems nervous. Clearly fucked up. The latter frowned from that response.

Stan sighed, "okay. What did you do," he asked again, finally had calm himself and processed the situation he's in. No pizza night at Tolkien's tonight he said to himself.

"Well, remember my mascot?,"

He nodded, ofcourse he did, it all happened today.

"Well turns out he's like, related to chutulu."

Stan wanted to grip his nose outta frustration again, so bad, after hearing that, "what?," he asked again. As he couldn't believe that thing was related to.. unfuckin' believable. Actually it was definitely believable.

"Yeah, I don't know how'd it happened but he found out and wanted to massacre me and my farm, can you believe that! I even offered some of my weed," said exhausted while having a pout face as a child being scolded.

"Okay, so how the hell did we end up being tied up?."

"Stan, there's a bunch of cult members in south park," he stated obviously while he rolled his eyes by being questioned this much. But he still bother to answer, "those motherfuckers knew chutulu wanted us so they found us, knocked us and tied us up, as their way of worship. We're pretty much a sacrifice."

"But why me!?," he stated bitterly as he was NOT trying to get involved today.

"Because you are, Stan! I told you about my strategy did I!?."

"I left!?."

They bicker a bit more before Stan decided to speak out for a solution.

"Look, I think, I have a plan. You know Cartman?."

"Your fat friend? What about him?."

"Well, he manipulated chutulu to join he's superheroe team awhile ago. Thing is, if we get Cartman, maybe he can help us."

"Isn't he like, a dick?."

"It's complicated. Let's just find a way outta of these ropes."

"Easy." Randy picked out of his pocket shirt with his mouth some weed and light it up with his feet and a lighter he had in his pants. And burned the ropes. He then untied him.

"You could've done that all this time!?," exclaimed baffled by his father's stupidity once again.

"No time Stan!," he said while he ran into the depths of the woods with the boy following behind.

Yes, they were in the woods. Let's move on.

[...]

Kenny found himself running like a mad man, he did not mean to provoke the dark lord, but he did. He just wanted answers about his curse! Was that too much to ask?

But here he was, regretting kicking one of those big claws of him after being bluntly ignored by chutulu, it seems it was looking for something. He assumed it was Cartman as he couldn't link the others with it. That fat fuck. What did he do!?

He couldn't bare die today as he was not aware how far chutulu would detroy the town by tomorrow. He needs to know why it's here, and ofcourse, his curse! Cause it seemed no one cares besides himself! Fuck!

He dodge one of chutulu lasers that ended destroying a car near by.

He hid in one of the markets from town, as if that's gonna make a difference. Then he saw him. That fat fucker! He was with Kyle and Butters in the meat section. Both seemed to be arguing about something while the blonde hold a riffle nervously watching the two, he'd care less right now about whatever those two were arguing about.

"You son of a bitch!," He slammed cartman into one of the freezer, Cartman looked at him with opened feared eyes, "what did you do!?."

"K-kinny..!?."

"Woah, dude, calm down," said, Kyle, "what's going on?."

" 'What's going on?'," he responded incredulous, "chutulu's out there destroying the town and killing countless souls! That's what going on!."

"Oh," Butters said not being so stoked about it.

"Yeah, we kinda know that, asshole," the brunette said casually loosing his grip.

"Eric thinks that chutulu may be here because of a mission," Butters explained.

"Oh really," the blonde said sarcastically eyeing him, "Cartman why the fuck did you summon chutulu here!? Do you know all the damage you've done."

"Excuse me? I didn't do shit, kinny!," Cartman exclaimed offended, by being accused so surely.

Yeah, he has committed various, and I mean, VARIOUS crimes, but he did NOT do this. Though he must admit to himself that this turn of events could be convenient for him to destroy DikinBaus. As no one in this stupid town does not deserve such a wonderful magnificent place. That HE made. And as such rightly deserves it and rightly could destroy it if he wanted to, right?

"Like I'm gonna believe whatever shit comes from your mouth, fatso," Kenny stated.

"It's true." Kyle spoke up, "what Cartman said.. look, I've been following this asshole since he said he was gonna try to do something about that dumb hotdog place, so, I followed him around-"

"Like and stalker," bluntly added Cartman.

"And-" Kyle continued, ignoring cartman's comment before frowning, "the only thing he's done is shit on Butter's porch and purchasing 200 hotdogs in hopes DikinBaus will run out and shut down. Which is the most ridiculous thing I've ever witnessed–"

"Oh c'mon, Kyel it was brilliant!," Cartman defended his stupidity, "it's easy an effective! I buy all the hotdogs, open my own stand and start a business," finalizing while crossing his arms. Kyle look at him angrily.

Nobody will question where he got the money to pay for all those hotdogs. Most likely in a fraudulent way. Whatever it doesn't matter.

"You ate all the hot dogs, fatass!!."

Cartman frown finding a better comeback, "well..! Atleast I have hot dogs!."

"What?," Kyle responded simply with one eyebrow upward.

"Tsch, whatever. I have a new better plan that I won't be sharing to either of you assholes."

Kenny, snapped. He had enough of this bullshit.

"Guys! Chutulu!?."

"Oh yeah, yeah," Cartman had his arms up. A freaked Kenny is a scary Kenny, "uh, what about him?," he added.

"Really?," he asked again incredulously, not waiting for an answer he continued, "something or someone must have summon the dark lord. We need to find a solution to get him out."

"Dude, that's chutulu. Even if we wanted to do something what can we do about it?," Kyle added skeptical.

"Yeah, it's not like this shitty town deserves to be saved anyways," Butters stated, still a little bitter about having to spend community service cleaning the mess the towns people made just cause he was seen as a sex offender for pinching a girl who he thought had no green on San Patrick's day!

"Well. Cartman?," Kenny asked staring deeply into Cartman's eyes. For some odd reason he felt a connection with the boy. As if his eyes had a glint of something.. he just couldn't recall what it was.

"How would I know?," Cartman asked confused, and kinda annoyed that he hasn't even started his plan B because of an overdramatic Kenny.

"You manipulated chutulu you fat fuck! Do it again," He exclaimed frustrated of the whole thing now looking at the other boys. He's finding all of these unnecessary scenarios being unfold overwhelming. Nobody seems to care, nobody seems to care about chutulu destroying south park, maybe he doesn't care!?

He sigh. Maybe he really doesn't. Maybe all this is an excuse to find out about his curse shield with the idea of being heroic. Screw that. He cared! This town may be fucked up but it was his home! Our home! They must care!

"Okay, I got a plan," Kenny stated finally after a brief silence.

[...]

Cartman found himself frowning angrily standing in the middle of the street, in a kitty costume. He would've rather just picked his coon costume but Kenny stated it'd be more effective and he was definitely trying to mess with him once again, cause he found it hilarious.

Stupid kinny.

The other three boys were hiding behind a dunked car near by him. Not like it'd make a difference. Always put Cartman in the more risky messy situations! Ofcourse he was convinced with a reward if things goes well, not because he's scared of Kenny and he was being a pussy! It was the reward he was promised of!

He heard Kenny snicker a bit, stupid kinny. He finds this amusing didn't he!? Asshole.

He then was faced with the giant dark lord with each step the ground rumble and the buildings breaking and weakening by him.

He gulped. He's done this before, he can do it again. Why is he nervous this time?

Both pair of eyes met. Time for action.

"Miaw Miaw! If it isn't one of my best pals! Miaw miaw!," he then climbed in one of chutulu's feet to his head. My gawd he deserves a reward for this acting. He then pursued on scratching the lord's head as he enjoyed the sensation of the fake claws on his skull, "who's my precious chutulu?," he then added a purr distracting the giant.

The three boys started preparing the trap they had made while upon seeing cartman's manipulation was once again, working. That fucking fatass.

Kyle was trying to knot the rope to one of the polls light but end up falling backwards in the sight of chutulu, who immediately put it's attention on the redhead. Great, just fucking wonderful.

Chutulu immediately turned his attention to Kyle and growled once knowing damn well this was set up.

"Dammit jew!," Cartman shouted making it more obvious that this in fact was, indeed a setup.

'Twack!'

Chutulu looked behind him as he had felt a tiny rock hit his tail.

"Stan?," Kyle said confused. Once Stan and his dad we're visible with some hunting gear on and some guns in there hands.

This was not going as plan. And once again Kenny sigh frustrated. He wasn't sure if the new pair of characters were a good thing or not. He's gonna let it slide this time.

Randy slowly approached chutulu leaving behind Stan, who just cautiously watched.

He then took out a weird mutant goose rat thing from behind his right arm.

Chutulu raised a brow. If that's even possible, but it was. Ofcourse it was.

Chutulu looked down as the mutant thingy went to his side rubbing himself against it's feet. It was heartwarming if it weren't for the situation they were put for and who it was. Then Chutulu did the imaginable, he squashed it.

Stan and Randy looked stoked.

"Well that does it," said Randy.

Both Marshes mouth agape, still looking at chutulu and now dead corpse.

And in splits seconds Kenny put himself in front of the two, standing in front of chutulu embracing his blonde hair exposing his face, he had taken his parka off. Glaring at the monster above. He have had enough.

"What am I?," he asked once more, "answer me now!."

"What's with this one?," Randy side eyed Stan, as he shrugged in response. Confused also.

Chutulu ignored him and approached Randy. Which jolted a bit nervous as he did not figure out what he did to anger the creature. If it wasn't his mascot than what?

He lowered his face to the man and quickly head bunked him to the side, hitting his body through a store window breaking into pieces.

"Dad!!," Exclaimed Stan, rushing in hurry to his father's aid. Noneless a idiot but still his idiot.

"Ow! I'm okay Stan.." the injured man reassured.

In a blink of an eyes the military had showed up and started attacking chutulu, bullets in and out angering the creature, he had put himself on it's feet again trying to block the bullets and attacking the attakers, Cartman still on the dark lord's head completely taken off guard as he was distracted with the dialog was then shot in the back 'ow!' falling off chutulu's head straight to the ground. He had broked his limbs and neck during impact. This anger chutulu even more, as for him kitty Cartman was like a pet.

Kyle and his other two friends had witnessed it. As he shouted, "¡Cartman!," he ran towards him caring less of the chaos around him.

"Fuck, he killed Cartman!," Kenny exclaimed as he approached the now what appears dead boy.

'There's no way'.

"Holy fuck!," said Stan from a far, he was still on his father's side but had witnessed it aswell.

Kyle was next to him analyzing the boy's wounds as he couldn't believe it.

"He's dead.." says Butters while having his mouth slightly agape standing next to Kenny watching the now corpse.

"You bastard.." whispered Kenny, he was staring at his so called best friend, lifeless eyes. It was definitely an odd sight.

"He can't be dead.." Kyle reassured griping into the boy's costume, "he just can't," he frowned.

Stan had already approached the scene as his father seem to had been well standing up not as injured.. or in this scenario dead.

He was also as stoked as the two other boys that were just standing there watching there fat friend laying there. Kyle was the only one on the ground gripping on to Cartman as if he didn't want to let go.

Kyle stared at him for a bit longer than he expected, his body had lost color, his half lidded lifeless eyes staring at him and his hands were cold.. this can't be happening. Cartman can't die. That's not possible!

Kyle with both his fist hit his friend's chest as hard as possible, anger. So much anger!

"Cartman! Can't! Die!," hitting him more times with no intention, it just felt right.

"Woah, dude," Stan put a hand on his best friend's shoulder trying to calm him down he's never seen his friend act this way. And to be honest he never expected to see Cartman this way either. Lifeless.

Kyle smacked Stan's hand off him still in disbelief.

"¡Cartman! Cartman!," he shouted almost in a cry, desperation in his voice," you fat fuck! Wake up!," he again hit as many times as he could, in the dead one's chest.

"Dude, Kyle.. he's gone," Stan said in the most pity voice. As if he could feel what Kyle felt.

"No he's bullshittin' he's fucking bullshitting, Stan!," He said almost as he's trying to believe it himself, he felt himself shake, his eyes felt watery.

A big thump caught their attention leaving the other boy kneeled to the other not leaving his side. He could now care less about that fucking dark lord and this stupid chaotic town!

"You fat fuck...!" he whispered more to himself as he closed his eyes and clenched his fist.

He may hate Cartman, and may have countless times told him that's he's better off being dead. But he really didn't mean it. If Randy can be alive, if Garrison can be alive, if man bear pig can be alive.. then why can't him? It's only fair. Two of those people he mentioned are assholes in there own fucked up way, but have done countless crimes and gotten away of being a dick atleast man bear pig is a wild satanic creature it makes sense if he kills thousands of lives. But those two other bastards are here! Free, alive.. So can Cartman!

"Cartman..?," he said choked as he felt steaming tears fall down his cheeks as he watched his fat friend laying down breathless, no bicker response. No insults. Nothing but flat silence from his part. His death even seems painful, not the typical peaceful dead look, just plain painful.

[...]

As the day ended things went back to normal as per usual, well almost.

Kenny never thought he'd find himself sitting in a funeral of one of his best friends. It was always the way around. For some reason it felt wrong. That he was supposed to be in that box and not his friend.

His mother crying on the side of the casket while some of the south park parents tried to comfort her, but failed. As she was never that close to them anyways. Besides, deep inside she knew no one would fully understand what she feels as she knows her son wasn't the best of person's. And that probably there were people from this town who'd want this or asked for this. But she? She saw the evil in him and had gotten tired of his stupid schemes but that was still her little boy and she will always be his mother. And that won't ever change, so the pain will always remain there. And everyone else was an hypocrite in her eyes.

The four boys remain silent, listening to the ceremony behold them. Yes four boys, as for now that Cartman would no longer partake in their group they added Butters in his place.

"So, do I like have to act like an asshole now?," Butters asked grabbing their attention.

"Uh no?," Stan answered.

"Well if I'm gonna take Eric's place I think I should like try to act like him, like when you guys once choose Clyde because he was the second fat boy of our class..?"

"No Butters, you don't have to act like Cartman," Stan stated now a little annoyed, this wasn't the place or time to discuss something like this when their friend hasn't still been buried. It kinda stings.. this feels fresh. It is fresh. Who knew this fat fuck would affect him?

"Are you sure?."

"For fuck sake Butters, shut up!," Kyle exclaimed angrily, receiving a couple of odd stares from some of the other people there. He cared less to be honest. He clenched his fist as he wanted so bad to punch his face and beat him up. As he'd normally just do with Cartman. Cartman..

Cartman, Cartman, Cartman..

He looked down to his feet avoiding his friends gaze.

[...]

Two days have pass, and honestly this Butters thing just wasn't working. Stan wondered if he truly would prefer having Cartman back than having to witness a whimp like Butters attempt to be a douchebag loser. Don't get him wrong, Butters can be a douchbag but he can't get into Cartman's level. Even if he tries to be. Maybe that's what Butters doing wrong? He's attempting to be someone he's not when he can easily be himself as a douche. But still, not Cartman.

For much of Stan's surprise, south park still hasn't changed a bit after his friend's passing. It's still chaotic, and bizarre. And as hard to admit it even feels longer and even torturous. New characters appear here and there, some were dicks, others were plain awful, some just bland boring ass people. He couldn't believe it, he's actually starting to miss him, as these other characters just feel forced to continue continuity when it's just full filling!

It's just two days. Two fucking days. He's been longer than that with out seeing his fat friend and he's okay with it, even thankful, and yet knowing he won't ever be seeing him because he's dead just changes things.

Let's not even talk about Kyle. Out of the the three. Yes, he's not counting Butters. Fuck Butters!

Kyle has been the most affected. Ofcourse he also has to witness the cringey attempts of their idiotic blonde friend, trying to become his new "arch-rival" as that comes in the packaging of being Eric Cartman. Including being a selfish, manipulative piece of shit. Anyways, point is, to be Eric Cartman you must also hate Kyle Brofloski. And Butters just doesn't have it in him to fully hate on someone or just give him the time of day Cartman would normally do daily, actually obsessively to Kyle.

So here he was, on one of the seats of the school buss behind Kenny and Butters, hearing Butters trying to bicker Kyle. It really feels surreal.

"So, Kayl."

"It's 'Kahl', if you're trying to mimic Cartman atleast do it right," he responded back with an added eye roll at the end.

"Well, geezz.. I mean Ay! Shut up you dumb jew! I'll do and say what I want, whenever I want!."

Well, now that's actually better. Stan actually had to repressed a laugh cause he actually found that funny.

"Wow, Butts you're getting better," complimented Kenny.

Butters beamed and stared at Kyle, who silently watch another kid entering the bus. He really did not bothered putting his attention on the blonde.

"C'mon Kyle, you must admit that was pretty good," He tune in, trying to get Kyle to loosen up.

"Yeah.. I suppose," Kyle then looked up at Butters while the other just looked back nervously. Kyle sigh, "can you fight?" he then added with a glint of mischief while the other two boys stared at Kyle, confused for the sudden change in demeanor. Butters looked a little uncertain on what to answer.

As he should, this is Kyle we're talking about.

"O-ofcourse I do!," In fact, Butters does know how to fight, just not Kyle, never Kyle.

"Great, meet me up after school in the playground," said finalized while standing up to get off the bus.

"Ah geez.." Stan heard Butters whispered before getting off the bus to join his friend.

He didn't know what Kyle had planned, but he sure wants to find out.

[...]

"Oh geez! I don't think I can be Cartman no more!," exclaimed Butters with a couple of bruises in his face, tired, "Kyle was beating me up like a butcher to its meat selection!."

"Well that is Cartman's job to deal with y'know," Stan added. He figured this must be a way for Kyle to get rid of Butters. So he followed along.

"Yeah dude, if you're gonna be Cartman. You must know that you have to become Kyle's personal punching bag," Kenny tune in, actually enjoying the laugh. He knew we were all messing with him. Cause in fact, it seems Stan was not the only one bothered by Scotch.

"Oh Jesus!."

"Man, actually I do believe you can become Cartman, even better. As you seem to be more capable of taking Kyle's moods," yeah, we can be assholes sometimes. Stan smiled a bit.

"Oh boy.." he was not liking what he was hearing. Before adding anything further Kyle approached the group, tuning in with a happy humming.

"Hey there guys," he then glared at Butters, "Butters."

"AHHHHHH!!!," He scream while dashing out of there before adding, "Screw you guys I'm going home!."

"Well, that does it," Kyle shrugged.

"Guess no one can deal with you more than a day," Kenny added.

"I guess so."

"So now what?," Stan questioned. Everything just went silent.

Normally Cartman would suggest some stupid shit, we'd shit on first before following through with it. But even the substitute bailed on us, so we must figure it out on our own.

"Board games..?," Ken then added.

"Nah, done that yesterday," Kyle replied, tapping his foot on the ground, kinda impatient, kinda bored.

"What about basketball," Stan suggested. Once again the three boys remain silent. The wind whistling in their ears as they thought harder and the space between them felt thicker as they become smaller. And smaller, and smaller..

"Who wants to try summoning Cartman with a ouija?," Kenny added plainly, while pursuing on leaving the area to his place, with the certainly the others would followed.

In fact, not only did they follow, they were eager for it.

[...]

-In Hell-

"Dammit! no barbecue at sight in the most hottest place between three worlds!," Cartman exclaimed baffled.

He's been a hell citizen for two days now, and it has sucked. He isn't even allowed to go in the cool clubs cause he was a minor and would be forever be one for eternity! He did enjoy the public torture that was embrace there but besides that, nothing too outta the ordinary he could see up in south park.

He sigh, not knowing what to do, with out his friends to annoy, death feels empty. Boring as fuck! He wants to get outta here!

When he approached a counter were there were two men talking about some country song while drinking martinis, he decided to sit next to them. They immediately stayed quiet as his presence disturb them. 'Dumb bitches' he thought.

"So... how can we get out?," he asked.

"Excuse me?,"

"Yeah, like how do we get out from hell."

"Oh, why the hell do you want to get out?."

"Because it's boring as fuck, i want to live!."

"Well, he is young, George," one of the men side eyed his companion. The other nodded in agreement.

"Well there's no way, young boy," one of the men answered, I'll call him number two. Pftt, number two, get it? Hahaha! He repressed a laugh and continued trying to get more information outta the two grown men.

"Okay, but like there must be atleast someone who COULD know a way outta here, right?," he digged.

"Hmm.." number one begin thinking, pftt.. number one, "actually I believe there is."

Getting the boy's attention, he leaned forward as if it'd help him hear them any better. They were both drunk as fuck. For what it appears. Their talk was all gibberish, but 'anything to get out of here' he said to himself.

"You should look for the 'dark red soul'."

"The 'dark red soul'..?," he murmured.

"Yup, he lives in the coast side, just follow the direction signs and go to the yellow hotel. And just ask for him, someone must know where exactly he lives at, he's quite a party goat," number two explained chugging the bit of martini he had left.

So that, he did, he followed the directions signs that lead him to hotel 'jak n off' it was yellow, that's all he cared about. This asshole better know how to get out or he'll make sure he'll make himself a new bowl of chili.

[...]

"Oh, looking for red man?."

"Sure? Is that dark red soul?," he asked not very sure if it's the same guy he was told of.

"Yeah, that's his party animal name. Follow me."

'Tch, lame.' But he did follow. This tall freckle man took him to a long dark alleyway, he was feeling skeptical at first but then remembered he couldn't die if he was already dead. It's like respawn. Sigh. He remembered when he first came here, he fell in some spikes down a lava-fall (waterfall) he also remembered how painful it was but how quick he repawn back. So all is new.

The man enter a dark room and turn on the lights.

"Yeesh!!," some rookie exclaimed angrily as he was caught in a very peculiar position with a lady friend. Both naked.

"The fuck man!?," the red head turned his gaze down looking at the chubby boy.

His eyes widen as the latter.

"Dad..?" his mouth slightly agape. He couldn't fucking believe it. Out of all things. Out of all people. It was him.

Back then he would've dreamt of finding his dad, feeling complete and happy. But once he knew about what the town hid from him what HE hid from him, he just became bitter with the idea of ever having a father figure in the picture. He figured it would've weakened him and it was for the best to had never encountered or meet him. Cause he hates feeling weak. Cause he isn't.

They both looked at each other for a long brief silent second.

The other two people that were in the room left them, well more like the other dude stole his companion.

"Uh.. 'dark red soul'..?" he added, uncertain what to say. The boy felt his legs wobble and his lip twitch. While the older man had his left eye twitch instead.

"Yeah.." Jack answered quietly.

They were both put in a very awkward situation.

"..Eric huh?.." He then added when he received no answer. He wasn't use to having someone who didn't listen to him. Noneless a son who doesn't. Scott was always so eager to answer him even with the most smallest things. Man, he really missed his boy.

"You know my name?," the boy answered too quickly than he expected. He cough nervously, "ofcourse you do, I'm Eric Cartman," he boost his ego. More like a cover up of his insecurities at the moment.

Jack lighten up a bit at the comment. Indeed he knew about the trouble maker he was, well the trouble in general, everyone in south park knew. The son of a single crackhead whore mother, a whore he slept with.

"I see you're quite a confident one," he said cheeky before nudging the boy.

Cartman jolted by that action. Skepticism was basically like his middle name. That type of gesture is uncalled for and unnecessarily. And it made him feel uneasy for some reason.

"Yeah..right," he decided to ignore the remark, "okay so.. I heard you know how to get me back to south park?."

"Oh, so that's why you're here?," then he realized that the only reason the boy is presented here was because of the inevitable, he died in the upper world.

Maybe it's his instincts, or just maybe because he's been so lonely. He feels this sudden sickening attachment towards the boy. As messed up as it sounds, considering he did ground him into chilly. But in his defense he didn't know. He didn't know he was his father. Would've that made a difference? That he couldn't know. But that made him soften just a bit. That would keep him fooled just for now.

"Yeah, I want to get back home," Cartman stated, as the tense moment had started to drift off coming to a lighter ambient.

"Oh, well I suppose I could help you with that," he lied. He saw Eric's eyes sparkle a bit, as in hope. It remind them so much like Scott's..

"Sweet!," he exclaimed excited. Finally, this literally hell will be over soon.

[...]

"So you're saying you own that hotel?," Cartman asked. As his father explained most of his living down in hell and his ropes in it.

They headed to a taco stand and Jack gesture him to take a seat in one of the chairs while he order.

"Pretty much. Cool huh?," he responded a little proud of his accomplishments.

"Yeah.. so.. 'jak n off'?," Cartman asked while he saw the waiter place their beverages in the counter.

"Haha yeah.. I thought it'd be funny. No one seems to care," he added with a chuckle, taking a sip of his soda.

"Ha.. I- when I was in the upper world me and my friend kinny started a business reopening a old hot dog restaurant and we named it 'DikinBaus' haha.. just to mess around with people," he admitted, strangely still feeling uneasy and nauseous.

"Ha! 'DiknBaus'? I love it!," Jack laughed a bit whipping a fake tear out of his right eye, "I guess we share a certain humor, Eric."

"Yeah.." he look down at his hands. It felt odd talking to his dad. He wasn't sure if it was good but he knew it wasn't unpleasant.

"So you also have a business?," Jack asked interested. His boy does resemble him in ways he won't deny that, though his slut of a mother's features were surely there, all over his face to be in fact.

Scott never seem interest in taking big steps on trying to climb to the top leagues or have big ideal dreams. He seemed okay with living in the low peaceful life and well, following his favorite bands gushing over there new songs as a fellow follower than a leader.

"Well. Turns out they took it away from me when it became one of the most popular places in town! Can you believe that?," he complained, finally letting loose the awkward tension he felt, to vent his anger and displeasure, "and what's worse is that my mom followed through with it and didn't care that we had a lifetime successful business with a cool looking house!."

"That sounds awful, your mom's a bitch," Jack admitted. He can already tell Eric can have a bright future as a business man if he we're to try harder.

The boy jolted. It anger him when anyone talks bad about his mom, maybe Jack can be an exception being his dad and all?.. but it still pinch his heart and left a sour feeling in the tip of his tongue. Yes, his mom's a bitch, but only he can say it. He really doesn't know how to respond to his dad about it.

"Right.." he then continued sipping his soda, "so, how did you manage to create one of the most popular hotels in hell?," ignoring further his mother's mentioned.

"Well, when I was down here I was very popular among the other people that had also previously died. I stood out in a way."

The food had already been served. And Cartman picked one of the bean tacos and starting munching it, he felt his father's stare on him and he felt conscious of how he was eating 'Do I have something?'.

"Really? What made you so different?," oblivious to the other stares he was getting from the other customers.

"My death," He bluntly admitted, making Cartman almost choke on his food. 'Fuck'

"Oh," he flatly stated.

"Yeah, it was a hit back then. Everyone was talking about it, and people glorified me for it. As they say it was one the most radical deaths they've had ever heard happening," Jack explained, smiling by the memory, he found himself oddly proud of it. As it had benefited him in so much, and honestly he liked the attention on him, "As to expected I was very popular and was given many opportunities, like talk shows and lots and lots of 'money'," said emphasizing the last word.

Cartman stared at him for brief seconds, "money?," hint of greed in his words. Jack smiled by that, and nodded. He sure was his son.

"So.. how did you die?," he finally asked that anxious question he's been wanting to know.

"So like, I was kinda forced to help my annoying friends out to bring back chutulu to the underground, even though I didn't want to and wanted to just use chutulu to destroy 'DikinBaus' as because no one deserves such a wonderful place I made, and I was shot by the military by accident while I was on top of chutulu's head, falling straight to the ground," Cartman answered casually, squeezing some ketchup on his plate mimicking the blood he imagine leaving, sparing the costume details and the manipulation tactic he use too.

"Wow, I guess us Tenenorman just have it in us on dying radically and cool," Jack laughed excited with a fist in the air.

The name used took Cartman off guard. He was a Cartman after all! But it really warmed his heart to be complimented that much and it felt nice, being included for once. So he let it slide just this once.

"Yeah, I guess it is!," He exclaimed more confident and puffed his chest out, proud.

Jack gave him a warm smile and Cartman returned it back.

[...]

Jack had went on asking for some books he claimed as 'solutions' for Cartman's problem, while the boy decided to sit back and rethink his choices of the chilly incident and how different it would've been if they had just told him the truth.

Then, he felt a odd buzzing sound inside of his ear. He started smaking his left side with his palm.

"Cartman!," he.. 'was that Stan?', "Dude can you hear us? Are you there?."

'Holy shit, it is the hippie!'

"Stan?."

"Fatass?," another familiar voice chimed in.

"Aye! I Ain't fat you stupid jew!."

"Holy shit, Cartman dude!," Stan exclaimed a little too excited then he wanted to be. Cartman flinched by the intense noise in his ears, it was bothering him.

"Ow! Aye you damn hippie! Lower your voice will yah! My head hurts just hearing you guys!."

On the other side Kyle couldn't hold a smile. The other boys just laughed by being able to still annoy Cartman even being in a whole different life.

"So how's it going over there, Eric," Kenny asked.

"Yeah, you haven't lost ten thousand pounds over there by not eating junk food all day?," Kyle added, knowing well Cartman would answer back by the remark he leaned forward to the magic ball that was centered in the middle of the ouija.

"In the matter of fact, you dumb jew, I'm eating pretty well," The boy answered with puffed cheek and airs of superiority, "But things are going pretty well, it's boring as fuck though I was trying to find a way outta here," he then added. Not even questioning how they even managed to connect with him.

"And how's that going, Cartman?," Stan asked curiously. He really wanted to know if there was way.

Cartman took a few seconds to rehear his friend's question. He considered it a bit. After all, he was starting to find hell quite less boring now that he found his dad. He was not going to admit that to them though.

"Uh- well, I'm still on it. Not much luck though," he lied.

"Dammit Cartman, you fat fuck you really can't do shit with out us can you," Kyle then added, smirking slightly.

"Aye!."

The three boys started howling of laughter.

"Eric?."

Eric jolted in shock by the sudden voice behind him, reappearing to his vision. He reposition himself.

"Everything alright?," Jack answered a little concerned of his son behavior just now. He had just returned with some books at his hold while he witnessed Eric seemingly talking to himself.

It was nothing new to him that his son was mentally fucked up, so he has decided to shrug it off.

"Yeah, everything's alright."

'Who's that, fat boy?,' Stan asked.

"No one.." Cartman answered in a whisper.

"C'mon, Eric. Let's go to my place and discuss about your situation," Jack added with a nod gesturing to follow him.

Eric then pursued on following behind him.

[...]

"I guess we lost connection with Cartman," Kenny stated. As they no longer could hear their fat friend.

"How long will it take for us to be able to contact him again?," Kyle asked a little eager. He was finally being able to enjoy the presence of Cartman again, and honestly it was hard to admit he did miss it.

"Probably tomorrow," the blonde shrugged laying down on his bed, "maybe we should try asking the goths if they know how to bring a person back from the depths of hell."

"That sounds like a good idea," Stan chimed in.

The three were now determined on bringing Cartman back.

On the other side, Cartman found himself admiring his father's pent house. It had one of the most amazing views of hell. He stared at the window for a brief long period while seeing every store, house, streets, even the small from afar hell citizens.

And don't get him started on his gaming room! There was also a personal gym 'meh' who gives a damn about exercise. He continued looking through the home. Big kitchen, bathroom, room.

Wow, literal heaven.

There was a box full of condoms on one of the kitchen counters which his dad immediately hid when he found the boy inspecting the area.

He followed behind him with his arms cross on his back, he liked how much Eric was admiring his success with those big innocent looking eyes, though he knew deep inside that image, he was a little devil just like his mother. Both innocent looking yet easy to sugarcoat someone into giving them what they want, making them devilish.

He remembered venting with pride to his son Scott about being a Denver bronco and the games his won, all the attention he received because of it looking for praise from him, but received none but a small nod while he presided on listening to music. Maybe because he was a teen and no longer interested in hearing about their parents accomplishments and tales.

But Eric, oh small little Eric found everything he did amusing and exciting! He enjoyed that.

"Okay, uh.. Jack?," the boy spoke, uncertain what to call him.

"You can call me dad," The redhead added too quickly, he 'tsch' silently.

It went silent again. Jack figured it'll be a matter of time for things to settle down and fix on it's own.

Cartman had his mouth slightly agape staring at his father trying to pick on any slight hint of bluff in him. But found none. 'No one wanted to be his dad' no one dare tried to be.

Jack was starting to feel a little uncomfortable 'maybe it was too soon?' Before the boy spoke up.

"O-okay, dad," he said with a flat line as his mouth.

That word just felt so cursed coming out of his mouth.

Jack beamed.

[...]

A whole week has passed and the boys were no longer able to contact Cartman. Kyle began to worry if something must have happened to his idiotic friend while in search of an exit from hell.

They had failed miserably to summon Cartman back. Tried the various forms the goths have told them to do. But nothing worked. And now they had lost the only connection they had towards him, Cartman was just too much to bring back he supposed.

Stan had suggested that it may be because he was too fat to fit in any of the portals made. He found that funny cause it was most likely to happen.

He sigh.

The boys decided to just start looking for a new replacement. As they had already gripped on the idea on the other boy's return being less possible.

So here he was. Being the one chosen to pick the new Eric Cartman.

"So why again do I have to pick him?," he asked with a frown expression, having cupped his cheek with the palm of his hand.

"Because, the new Cartman has to be able to keep up with you," Stan stated the obvious.

Kyle raised a brow by that, "What's that supposed to mean?."

"It means, that if he were to be put in a stupid situation where he pissed you off enough to riled you up, then he must be able to budge through with it."

"Doubt it," He said bored. He wasn't interested in finding a new Cartman, he wanted his Cartman back. Their Cartman back.

"Okay, kid. You got the rules?," Stan questioned, eyeing a brunette chubby boy. His name was Tobias. The boy tilted his head not as sure.

"So.. I just can't fight back?," he asked displeased, wrinkling his nose. 'Kinda like cartman' Kyle thought.

"No. You fight back in a sketchy scheme to bite back at Kyle," Kenny explained balancing a pencil with his mouth, "you just let Kyle beat you up."

"But- that's not fair! How can I just let this dude just beat me up?."

Kyle was just standing next to him eyeing the boy. Already annoyed by this interaction. A good start he supposed.

"Dude, it's Kyle you just-" Stan gripped the bridge of his nose to calm himself down, "look, you be an ass, then Kyle beats you up for it. Get it? That's how their dynamic works."

Still not reassured by the answer the boy looked at Kyle in a stance for a fight.

Kyle then did a stance, about to prepare punching the kid. But before even giving him a throw, the boy flinched and cover himself up with his arms.

"Damn, what a pussy," Stan said.

"Ay! I ain't no pussy!," he shouted, his fist were clenched, and his cheeks were red with embarrassment, frowning his face.

"Go on," Kenny tune in, finally fully focusing on the boy, an eye brow raised.

"W-well.. you guys are a bunch of assholes! Fuck you guys!."

"Okay, okay," the blonde boy raised his hands, grinning from ear to ear, "and what am I?," he closed his eyes putting a hand in one of his ears waiting for the correct answer.

"A poor piece of shit!," the boy in question exclaimed, "you're a stupid hippie. That only -" he points at Stan. And continued bashing on all three of us.

Stan and Kenny were grinning widely while Kyle felt a little sting is his chest.

They found their Cartman.

[...]

Cartman on the other hand had been laying down on the living room couch, with a very thin blanket as the environment he was in was already quite warm. Atleast for what his father had explained to him. The weather is only based on just two season changes. Summer and 'winter'. Summer is burning hell, winter it's freezing hell as if it were wanting to snow in literal hell, but it never does. Ofcourse, they were in summer when he had arrived, and it'll be like that for the next eight months.

The TV was on and it was kinda late at night for what he supposed called 'hell hour'. Their night time.

His eyelids were half lifted, tired. He won't deny the first few days spending time with his dad we're great, with the exception of the crappy so called 'food' he made, it was just too.. let's say bland 'healthy'. Unlike his mom's amazing cooking nothing could compare. But he had adapted to it very quickly as Jack had promised him to go out for some yummy foods as a 'treat'. He supposed he could endure the torture for a couple more days as long as he was still able to play with all his video games.

But the more the clock ticks the more bored he gets, the more un-patience he gets. Jack also wasn't always home compared to his mother. He had work, and had explained to him this is how he owns such nice things and keeps things in check under 'their' rooftop. He was barely home, and not only that he'd come back with lady friends and takes them to bed with him, claiming they were there for business. What he's not aware of, is that he's already very familiar with the so called 'business' before. His mother has finally mellow down on it but this prick doesn't seem on ending it anytime soon as some college freshman.

He had guessed his former wife had ended up in heaven as she is no longer in the picture and the man never mentions her. Taking this as a opportunity to sleep around with as many women he could get, just like with his mother. He frown by the thought.

He sigh, as he knows better than to knock on the grown man's door. He knew he had taken a lady friend with him inside, he didn't even bother glancing at him before taking her inside. So he layyed there. In that silent room, all by himself hearing the TV noises slowly being blocked by his brain.

He missed south park.

He missed his friends, and his bitch of a mom.

He closed his eyes. And then he jolted back up.

'That's it!' He exclaimed to himself.

He went through all the pages of the books Jack had brought, claiming they could 'help' which he never bother bringing up again cause he was distracting Eric with other cool more interesting stuff than returning him back to South park. For Eric's surprise they were a bunch of cooking recipes 'nothing of actual use!', he frown angrily. 'That motherfucker!' Literally.

He quietly tip toe to another shelf and started going through each individual book but found nothing. He was getting desperate as he was wondering how could Jack keep that information from him when it was literally the whole reason he found him for.

Then, when he was about to give up a green book had ended up smacking his head 'ow!', it had fell from above the shelf. But there was something special about that book that made him peek inside. There was code written in the back part of the book. He wondered where to use it for but was immediately answered as he look at the front cover. It was the best hint.

He slowly open the front door to sneak out and successfully do so. He ran trough each hall way of that huge building and had entered the elevator tapping a button for the ground floor.

He waited patiently, and had entered the shallow hallway. The book was titled 'room fith'.

He open the room and for his luck, it was opened. Everything was empty, a plain green painted room. He stood there confused thinking in 'what' he had calculated wrong.

Before 'snap!' The ground open immediately letting him fall straight into some cushions. The fall didn't feel so deep. But the whole secrecy makes it all skeptical, as if there's something to hide.

He looked around the small room, it was adorned with many satanic symbols, candles, glasses with sand and there were plenty of papers spread in the floors like rituals. He examine each one and approach the table that had many finished and unfinished work. Building plans, maps from areas of hell he hasn't heard of. He figured this was all work of his father as he can recall his writing from the small notes he had left him in the counter before heading for work explaining how to use certain things of the kitchen and wishing him a 'have a nice hell day' before adding 'you're not allowed to go outside'. Kinda controlling not gonna lie.

He flipped through plans and saw many other rituals of summoning. Who knows, he may be able to summon Kyle here? He snorted of the thought of pissing his friend off by bringing him to hell.

But then stop his tracks when he looked under the table to find a small safe, his eyes widen at the revelation 'this is it! This is were he's supposed to add the code.'

"What're you doing there champ?."

He jolted scared turning into the opposite direction.

Jack was smirking slightly while having his arms cross.

"Guess you're enjoying the tour huh," he approached slowly stopping three steps away from Eric.

The boy gulped felling this huge uneasy felling between them, sweating uncontrollably. He felt small for the first time in his whole life, looking at the older man's eyes.

Before being knocked out.

[...]

He opened his eyes and felt his arms tied to a wooden surface unable to move, he notice once adjusting his vision that he was in fact tied up in a chair. He freaked out, this feels oddly familiar.

He then turned his gaze upwards looking straight ahead. Seeing his father sitting down in a couch from that same room, arms were cross around his chest, man spreading but his gaze was straight towards him. He gulped once more. 'He really looks like Scott right now'.

Jack immediately lightened up once he saw Eric awake, he then proceeded to speak.

"Oh, Eric you're awake!," he beamed, forcing a cheerful tone. He didn't want the boy to realize how disappointed he was for catching him trying to escape, "look, Eric, I'm not gonna hurt you," he tried justifying his actions while he stood up.

"You knock me out and tied me into a chair you crazy bitch!."

"BECAUSE someone decided to bash in a forbidden area," Jack defended, he disliked the naming but bit his tongue.

"Cause you lied to me of helping me get out! Those books you brought were all cooking recipes!."

"Well, yes, they will be of help once you're older, champ! I didn't lie," the red head continued explaining while searching through his drawer, "Eric I want you to know that I'm just doing this for the best for you."

The boy remained silent which gave Tenorman the opportunity to continue reasoning.

"I want you to be able to accomplish your goals, I want you to become successful and I want you to be able to follow my steps in hell."

"What? Fuck that! I don't want to be a business man!."

"Eric, I see so much potential in you and have no plans on letting you waste it like your brother."

Eric froze by the mentioned of Scott.

"Unless you'd prefer ending up living in a old dusty hotdog like your mother lead you too?," Jack said with a blank face showing a couple of prints that had many, and I meant many incidents involving Cartman, "When you first approached me, that same night I made a huge search and found so much information on you, Eric, so, so much. You're quite a special boy," he added with a little hum.

"Scott has lost all his marbles, and as hard it is to admit it. I don't see him giving a good name for the Tenormans."

"Fuck the Tenormans! I'm no Tenorman!."

"But you are, Eric," there was a glint of greed in those eyes, something that made Eric's skin scrawled, "in fact, you're more of a Tenorman than a Cartman," he took out a scrapbook from the left side of his drawer.

He flipped through it and stopped in one, deciding to show the boy what was in it.

It was a old newspaper with a young man, probably in his mid-thirties he had ginger looking features but it looked like him, a way older version of him. He had a smirk on while being dragged by cops in the picture, his features resemble pure chaotic vibes. You just knew by seeing a glance of this man, he was trouble.

The article had titled 'psycho man rigged presidential election'. Eric gulped again.

"That's your great grandfather," he then picked up another of his prints, "you know who also tried rigging a presidential election?," Jack added smirking while showing a picture of Cartman and the head of Disney along of millions of election votes.

He then showed him another article, he so called great grandfather was standing next to three other boys picking on one in peculiar, he supposed a friend. He seemed jewish as he had a star of david necklace on him. This article had nothing too chaotic on it, they just use those four teens as an example of 'what not to be'.

Then his dad showed him a picture of his three friends and himself. One where he was in fact, taunting his jewish friend.

He sigh.

"Okay? That means nothing! I want to get back home!."

"That's the thing, Eric, you're not," Jack said, calming placing delicately the scrap on top of the drawer, "I'm protecting you, by the evil of yourself, the evil of your great grandfather's soul on you and the evil of your mother's influence," he pointed, sitting back down comfortably in the couch.

"I'll actually put of good use of your skill and potentials, someone like you Eric should always waste their potential in something actually beneficial than to just fuck around with," Jack lit up a cigar while he continued his rant, "that's what your great grandfather did wrong, and that's what you're doing wrong. Putting your motives and desires into unbeneficial things, un important things. And for what? Just for a three second laugh before being dragged away to jail or to a 'pyscho ward'?," he denied with his head looking at his expensive shoes, smiling after emphasizing his last sentence.

"You mother fucker.." Eric murmured finally realized what the ginger meant, Jack smirked in understanding, "Scott.. he didn't just go crazy because of what I did, he was already going crazy before I enter his life I just pushed him forward to actually snap!," the boy exclaimed scared.

"Ding ding ding!," Jack nodded happily, "see, you're very smart."

Cartman really wanted to go, run away and hide himself under the warm covers of his bed, under his mother's care far away from this crazy bitch!

Jack had left claiming he'd get him some food.

There he was just sitting there afraid, he really prayed for a miracle, just one more miracle in literal hell!

He closed his eyes tight trying to imagine himself being just trapped in a really bad nightmare.

The boy found the switch in personalities amusing, as it were so sudden and unexpected. In a blink of an eye the man that was seen as a caring cool father turned into a crazy psychotic lunatic! He really started missing his mom.

He felt himself uncomfortable felling the ropes being sunken in his flesh, hurting him and he felt having cramps in his calves, it hurted like hell and he couldn't do anything about it. He began crying outta desperation.

Then, he felt a buzz in his ears once more 'guys?'

His eyes lit up.

"Is there someone there?," he asked sniffing his snot back inside as it was running down his mouth.

"Cartman?."

"Kyle?," the brunette boy smile, 'there was still hope after all!'

"Kahl! You gotta help me! Kahl!," the boy cried with no shame. It isn't unusual for him to seek help from his ginger friend when he had fucked up and needed help solving it, "I can't! I'm all tied up and I-I-! Bwaaahh!!!," he cried louder.

"Okay, Cartman calm down!," his friend responded, "what happened? Is everything okay?."

"No! Nothings okay you stupid fuck!," the chubby boy eyes were all puffed up and red, while he felt his throat dry up, "this fucker lied to me! He lieeed!"

"Who lied to you?," he didn't hear Kyle ask as he cut him off continuing explaining his current situation.

"I need help! I'm tied up in 'jak n off' hotel in room five the ground floor! I'm at the bottom!," He cried once again, between breaths he hold back tears, he was freaking out. He was scared, and he was alone.

Then snapped back nervously when he heard a door open from behind him.

"Hey, Eric. I got you some grilled cheese sandwiches in hopes for you to cheer up a bit, my little future super star," said Jack beaming mimicking his mother's tone, it had sent shivers down the boy's spine, "I don't want you gaining too much weight though, or you'll be seen as a piggy for the rest of your life. And no one, likes, pigs."

"Cartman? Are you still there? Cartman!?," he heard his friend's voice.

He remained silent not trying to reveal his last only solution outta this mess, blocking also Tenorman's hurtful words.

"Why Eric! Look at you, you look like a mess," Jack put the sandwiches aside while running to his drawer and taking out a box of tissues and wipes. He then approached the boy and started wiping his face. Cleaning all remaining leftover tears and the snot that had started to dry up in his mouth.

[...]

"Dude, how the hell are we gonna go find Cartman if he's in hell," Stan exclaimed confused about his best friend's claims.

"The only solution is one of us dying," Kyle said with a frown, determinant on finding cartman.

"Dude!?," the latter responded with a brow raised and his arms raised in 'wtf', "dude I don't want to die! There's so much I want to do" looking at the ground thinking about the thousands of board games he hasn't played yet.

"Yeah, me neither!," exclaimed, Tobias.

Kenny remained silent staring at the red head.

"No one has to die, but me," Kyle spoke, he lowered his gaze. He knew it was risky, "I'm offering myself to do it," but it was worth the shot.

"Kyle that's the most crazy shit I've ever heard you say!."

"It's the only way! Nothing else has worked!."

"No, I'll do it."

The three boys turned their head towards Kenny. He had a frown and he seemed to not fear losing anything. Cause he wouldn't.

Kenny had already tried getting back into hell, dying various times to see if he could find Cartman but for some reason he hasn't been able to get a hold of the underground world. Waking back to life the next day. As in some sorta temporary limbo.

"That's okay, Kenny," Kyle reassured with a smile," I know you have your siblings to care of.. and well, I know Ike would have my mom and dad to take care of him, just in case I don't come back."

"Kyle, I'll do it. Eric is my best friend after all," Kyle's words was heartwarming but he wasn't gonna risk losing another friend.

Kyle frown reconsidering it. He then proceeded to nod.

They had left the Marsh residence as they wanted to be as far as possible from any witnesses, they went inside the weed 'garden'.

They found a solid ground far away from the farm. Atleast enough for a bullet to not be able to hear from a distance.

They got into a circle and Kenny stood in middle of the three.

He took the gun out, and pulled the trigger with not even a second thought. But there was nothing, just a small click everytime he pulled the trigger.

"What the fuck?," the blond asked confused looking up at Kyle.

"Sorry, Kenny I couldn't let you do that," his friend stated before pulling out a gun out of his jacket and pointed at his head 'that crazy son of a bitch' Kenny thought eyes wide open in panic, "here goes nothing," 'BANG' was all he heard before hearing the other two boys scream.

"Kyle no!," Stan shouted with his hands gripped into his head staring at his now dead friend, his face covered in Kyle's blood, "Jesus christ!!."

"Holy fuck," the brunette boy said horrified, "you guys are crazy! I no longer want to be part of this stupid group!," he screamed horrified before dashing away no longer looking back.

[...]

"¡AHHH!," Kyle found himself screaming while falling straight into what it seems to be lava. He looked upwards meeting with a pair of people staring at him. Is he really in hell right now? Fuck, he needed to start behaving once he's back in south park. He got up and managed to get out of the pit with ease.

He looked around, people forming circles partying here and there. There was lights everywhere even though it was pretty much lit already. Stores, buildings even food stands. 'No wonder that fat fuck didn't complain about being hungry' he thought to himself. Hell didn't seem bad at all! Well with the exception of the public torture displayed in front of him, he didn't seemed to mind it as much as he felt he should. What the literal hell?

He went to what appeared to be a big wooden cartel for new hell residents with the instructions on how to get back in their feet and their new purposes and do's, 'fuck that', he went where there was a map with all the locations needed to know. Also, pamphlets. He picked one and opened it. He recall Cartman mentioning a hotel called 'jak n off' and pursued following the directions given.

He then stood in front of a yellow building.

Okay, first instruction checked. Now, room fifth of the ground floor. But he stopped before doing any further action. He recalled his friend claiming there was someone with him 'what if they're still there?' He thought before considering a different approach.

Meanwhile...

"Holy shit, Kenny! What do we do!?," Stan said in panic, gesturing the other boy's dead body.

"Okay, Stan. Just listen carefully," the blonde had his right hand as a 'stop' gesturing to calm down.

He saw his friend breathing heavily, closing his eyes trying to regulate his heartbeat and breathing.

'he's just a crazy as Cartman!' That realization made the boy's eyes widen, "Holy shit," He spoke, now gripping into Kenny shoulders while the other boy flinched by the sudden action, "that was just as crazy level as Cartman!," he exclaimed his concerns.

Kenny loosen up from the grip before picking Kyle's body from head to shoulder. He gesture with his head for the other boy to help him with the other half.

Stan hesitated a bit but followed through.

"Fuck."

[...]

"Hmhm hmm!," Jack nodded repeatedly when he had finished re-dressing his off spring. He had bought him a little business suite the other day but had found this time appropriate to give.

The boy had refused and complained when the man attempted to take his clothes off but then failed immediately from his strength. 'Something beneficial from being a Denver bronco' he thought. He proceeded to submit.

Once back tied in the chair, his father turned him around being front of a large mirror.

'Ofcourse he was handsome' but he did not like being force to do things against his own will.

"Eric Tenorman," the man spoke with pride, "doesn't that just sound right?."

Eric gulped. He hated that name.

"Look at you, looking like a professional business man already!," he beamed again, "I'll be right back I'm gonna go fetch some wine."

"When are you planning to untie me!?," the boy wince when he saw a spider slowly going down on him.

A laugh as it were a joke was made, "oh, Eric," he then walked out.

None long after he had heard a loud 'thump' from behind him, he looked instead in the mirror and his eyes widen of excitement.

"Kahal!"

"Cartman?," the boy asked while standing up, he had fallen down from the cushions, ass straight to the ground, "Holy shit, dude! You alright?," he asked approaching him, he proceeded to untie the boy.

Kyle looked around a bit and proceeded to look at the boy that was stretching his back. He heard some cracking and popping.

'He looked like shit'

"We have to get outta here!," Cartman said before dragging Kyle from hand to hand outta the dark room. He was grateful he manage to see how his father summoned a door. But he stopped returning to the safe and grabbing the book and papers that were in there, once again gripping onto Kyle's hands dragging him out.

Once they were safe. They had ran out of the building, running towards the entrance of hell through the amount of new people that had arrived, and found themselves hidden behind 'Sussie's Buttocks' club.

Cartman sigh and Kyle just watched him with a frown brow.

With out further warning Cartman hugged the boy tight leaving Kyle speechless tensing his shoulders and his hands were up in the air unable to figure out if to correspond or just let the boy finish. He decided the second option.

"Thank you, Kyle! You came! I can't believe it!."

The boy loosen up the tension he had felt on his shoulders and just kept silent, letting his arch rival embrace him with his warmth. He could feel Cartman's rapid heart beat.

"Just so you know, I'm just here cause I couldn't stand your replacement," he said finally getting out of the boy's grip.

"Ay! You guys replace me already!?," Cartman protested angry while pouting.

The ginger smirked. With out realizing he felt himself hugging the boy tight. 'Fuck, he actually missed him', he buried his head under Cartman's shoulders as he felt him tense.

Kyle then let go, gazing at Cartman who had his eyes widen and the most heated red cheeks, mouth agape 'he looked gay' he thought. The boy then proceeded to lean towards him causing Cartman to panic as he weakly slapped him backwards snapping him out to his senses.

"Okay so who are we hiding from?," the red head spoke while he dust off the dirt on his jacket.

"Jack Tenorman."

Kyle's attention back to Cartman, in shock, "your dad?."

He nodded before vomiting. Everthing was all so overwhelming. Everthing his father revealed, his great grandfather and how home sick he felt, how much he missed his friends and mom. His insides twisted as he felt shivers all over him.

He made sure to point at Kyle's seamlessly new shoes though

"Ow gross, dude!."

[...]

Kenny found himself desperately wanting to go to hell but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't. As if there were something blocking him by going.

He sigh, legs crossed next to Kyle's rotten body, flies piling up around him. He and Stan had hid themselves in Randy's shed. They weren't certain if to burry him or not so they toss him in there while both took turns checking outside for any future witnesses which they failed miserably because Stan's dad had went for a quick smoke hidding from Sharon, and looked at them, glancing at both boys before looking at Kyle 'ohhh' he murmured, both brows were raised before closing the door slowly, leaving.

Kenny then took out the ouija board and place it in the ground. Might aswell try to contact Kyle.

"Any luck?," Stan asked wincing from the smell that was coming out of his best friend.

"No," Kenny tried cutting some more blood out of his wrist, carefully not making the wound any deeper. They needed a living mortal's blood to be able to contact the dead.

"Do you think he went to heaven?."

"Nah, man. You really think one of us will end up there after the amount of shit we've down?," he had went to heaven before but it was a one time thing, after he started simply caring less about his deaths he became bolder and is no longer admitted into heaven.

Besides he recalled Kyle unintentionally killing a bunch of Canadians that was enough reason to be sent to hell.

"Good point."

Cartman and Kyle found themselves looking through rituals and plans, they inspected the book while Kyle flipped through pages then stopped pointing at one.

"Here 'lay the one and only chosen one for the path to open, a bright light as blindfold being turned to one'," then continued reading the next paragraph, " 'the second gripped to life, will become sacrifice to give light as they are two'."

"What's that supposed to mean?."

"As they are two.." Kyle reread trying to add sense to what was written, brows knitted together, "that's it," He said looking at the drawings of two men one represented death, the other life. While life was seen switching places with death.

He flipped through the rest of the pages reading new paragraphs and prophecies.

'Misplace the two bounded souls and fear it's wrath between worlds, as they are one'

'Life and death which are shown to be bounded by a soul'

'Death is life, life is death, a curse forming in between them as the new bounded soul is created'

He flipped through the next page and eyes widen. It was a drawing of Kenny and Cartman. 'Holy shit'

"Did you find anything?," Cartman asked while laying down on his stomach, making paper airplanes with the loose pages that were spread on the floor as he had gotten bored.

"Well, there you are my special little boy."

Both boys gasped turning around while they got up, Kyle having gripped the book on his chest. He walked backwards placing an arm on Cartman backing away slowly shielding him

'Cartman was our way out' he told himself, justifying his actions as if it were the first time he found himself protecting the fat fuck. Which it wasn't.

Jack stood there with his arms crossed behind his back, grinning eyeing the book then looking back at Kyle.

"I see you brought a friend to play, Eric," he took a pistol out from the inside of his suite pocket.

Both dashed outta there running through the multiple people that were all formed in circles. Hearing Tenorman shout from a far 'Ay! come back here!'

'Like father like son'.

Kyle panted hardly while trying to grasp some air, Cartman was knocked out cold on the floor. Hopefully they were far enough from Tenorman.

A buzzing feeling in his ear caught his attention, he held it because of the intense pain it did as if that were gonna stop it. Blood trailing down his cheek he looked at the hand he had held himself with 'my ear is bleeding'.

"Kyle?," the boy in question jolted.

"Kenny!?"

"Dude finally! We were worried sick for you!."

"Is he there? Kyle? Are you there!? You crazy piece of shit! Jesus christ!," Stan chimed in," are you alright? Did you find Cartman?."

"Yeah, he's right here," he looked at the boy that was now trying to stand up. He offered a hand while the boy reached out and was pull up to his feet again. He looked tired, uncharacteristically tired. It gave Kyle an uneasy feeling as he remembered what he had read 'Misplace the two bounded souls and fear it's wrath between worlds, as they are one' he assumed Cartman may be 'life'.

"Okay cool, have you guys find a way out?."

"Is that the hippie?," Cartman asked finally paying attention to the buzzy feeling of his own ears.

"Yeah.." Kyle whispered more to himself than to anyone else, "Kenny?"

"Yeah? I'm here dude."

"Look this is gonna sound crazy but,"

'Bang'

"¡AAH!," Kyle looked at Cartman who had screamed in horror, then looked at his now wounded chest half lifted eyes before feeling his legs weakened.

'Fuck' was the only thing that came out before knocking out on the floor.

'Kyle!?'

'Kyle!?'

'Kyle!'

The boy slowly felt himself waking up by the sound of Stan's voice rumbling in his ears. He grunted, feeling sharp pains in his chest were he was previously shot, but managed to stand up.

He looked at his hands an feet, then his chest. It seemed to have healed as if it never happened 'had he dreamt it?' He looked around and found himself in the entrance of hell once more. Cartman was no longer at sight.

"Fuck," he frown 'this was being dragged too much', "Kenny, are you there?."

"Yeah man, what happened? We lost you for like an hour!."

"An hour? Holy shit.. okay, Kenny. I'm not crazy but I think you're 'death'."

"What."

"Yeah. I have a satanic looking book on me that has you drawn in here stating that you're bound into a soul."

"W-what?.."

"Yeah.. as crazy as it sounds but you're bonded. Not only are you bounded but to Cartman of all people."

"What!?," he heard both friends shout in unison.

"Look I don't know much for sure, but that's what I've gotten from what's written here. It says we need both of you to be able to get out."

"But how? I'm not allowed in hell."

"What?," he found himself confused by that comment but shrugged it off, "look 'the chosen soul must be into one of understanding to open a door through life and death' i- I honestly got lost by that point," Kyle admitted nodding to himself.

" 'The chosen soul must be into one of understanding to open a door through life and death..'," Kenny found himself repeating the words. He frowned.

Cartman and him were bounded.. but how? But why? Life and death. If he was death that makes Cartman life. Which having him in the underworld makes it not possible to be 'life'.

Death.. death is life. Which would makes sense if he were to die and revive.

Would that mean switching places with Cartman? As he found himself in life and he in death. All this is messing up his mind.

Would that mean what's been blocking him from both heaven and hell and keeping him in a sorta limbo state is because he's slowly becoming life? And Cartman..

'fuck'

"Kenny?," Stan's voice snapped him back.

"We need to find a way to bring Cartman back and quick!."

The chubby boy felt his body weakened while he was carried by his father. He had taken him to the rooftop of the building he owned while gripping tight with steel chains his wrists and legs into some torture table he had put there.

Half lifted eyes stared to the ground. He felt like shit.

His father stood there with clasped hands eyeing him everywhere as he was some golden trophy, as he were just waiting for something. But he couldn't grasp what it was.

"Did I ever mentioned you that Liane was part of a cult?," spoke Jack.

Cartman just kept silent as he began coughing badly.

The grown man walked towards him taking out a tissue from his pocket cleaning some of the trail blood he had cough out 'the fuck!?'

"When I first met your mother it wasn't at some stupid party your town folks had told you about. I met her in a cult meeting. I was young and was told they will be free booze," He reveal while fixing the boys now untied tie, "we felt attraction immediately and bonded over the fact that we were both there for booze, laugh it off and things just lead to an other," continued while shrugging.

Cartman found himself feeling his muscles spasm.

"I'm the good guy Eric! I would've never asked for this to have happen to you if I knew," he then place his hand onto his chest as an innocent demeanor, "your mother is to blame."

"The thing is, unlike me, Liane ended up getting too into the cult meeting and had unintentionally set herself up with two other soon to be parents, she had dragged me in, unaware of what would happened. She found it silly and fun and I found it a little creepy but followed through cause I was just too wasted to care about the odd rituals the other members were putting us in 'everthing for a piece of that' I kept telling myself."

The boy cut him off he began to have various seizures that lasted for up to three seconds before repeating itself, he felt his mouth grasping for air and being choked by his own saliva. His fingers twitched and his feet curled.

"And then, months after, you were born," unfazed the man wiped the saliva off his cheeks, "ofcourse by the time you were born I had no longer any contact with Liane and that so called meeting became a fuzzy memory for me."

"But, Eric," he approached the boy, face to face, "this, it's life changing," the boy heard while still trying to grasp for air, his vision long gone as it became blurry.

"Imagine, a Tenorman being able to switch in between worlds! Being able to use this curse and becoming one of the most powerful beings on both worlds," He ranted for himself, with every word being said his eyes dilated. Malicious, greed, selfishness surfacing, "not being able to die! HaHA! We'd be unstoppable!."

'Bang'

Tenorman fell into the floor.

Kyle then reloaded his shotgun while two other boys stood next to him.

"Stan help me with Cartman!," Kenny order running towards the almost unconscious boy. Stan nodded following.

They had manage to summon Satan while being in the upper world. Luckily Satan owed Stan a favor and it was just all convenient.

They managed to release Cartman by pressing a button that was place under the table with the label 'release' on it.

Kenny held the boy who convulsions worsened.

"Eric can you hear me?."

"K-kinny? Dammit kinny! Get out my death sequence," the boy complained even though his eyes looked elsewhere.

"You're not gonna die fat boy! You're already in hell."

"Oh, right," His body stiffened trying his best to take control but failed miserably once more, "how's it going?."

The comment made the blonde boy cracked a smile, "look Eric," he gently caress cartman's hair.

'That's gay' he heard the boy remark but ignored it.

"It'll be hard to believe this.. but I die," Kenny revealed, "like all the time," he sigh, feeling the glances of his other two friends on him.

"I know."

Kenny's eyes widen, "no, like I mean it, I die all the time!."

"I know," his chubby friend frown feeling stupid by hearing his best friend seemingly finding it hard for him to remember the obvious. And because of the condition he's in 'duh' he didn't feel like arguing, "I can tell you death by death, each and single one with detail and date."

Kenny was left with his mouth opened, speechless, he couldn't believe it. 'Is he really telling the truth or is he fucking with me?' All this time he's been looking for someone atleast one person that could remember. And he was there all along infront of him, someone he least expected.

"And you didn't bother on telling me!?," Kenny said angry, he felt his eyes water.

Cartman twitch in his arms, "nobody seemed to mentioned anything, and you never asked. I figured it may have been a bad dream or not as important cause nobody seem to believe me the few times I did mention it, they all looked at me weird as it I we're delusional," the boy admitted.

Now that he thought about it. The times he has admitted to someone about his curse, Cartman was never present. Which meant he had never given the opportunity to answer him. And when he mentioned it he was either dead or not around to tell.

Like if it were intentional for both boys to not be able to share this moment until now.

"You know what's messed up?," cartman's voice snapped him back, he had a weak smile plastered, "I began to be so use to it, it was easy to use your deaths. Like the time you were in the death bed or the time I had convinced everyone it would be best to disconnect you to have your psp, or being able to better my vision stealing one of your eyes, I knew you'd come back, you always did."

Kenny's eyes sparked in amusement 'he really did remember'.

"But the first few times.. kinny they were horrifying, I still feel uneasy but it isn't as before," his body twitch some more while he complained about the pain in his arms and legs, "I remember the rats eating your flesh, I remember trying to shoo them away cause you still weren't dead."

Kenny watched his friend with such warmth as if it were a cute tale he was retelling.

"The time Kyle killed you with a chainsaw," 'I what?' They heard their ginger friend asked confused but ignored it, "being killed by a bull, eaten by some pterodactyl, by oral sex, squished, run over," the boy shaked, the pain decreasing the more closer he got to kenny. On the other hand kenny was feeling immense warmth in his chest, like literal fire. 'Hell, It's really burning!'

Kenny remembered always being close in a certain way with Cartman, they even were once trapped together by his soul because the stupid idiot had eaten his ashes.

He glance down at Cartman who had let his head fall into his lap, smiling. 'This was kinda gay' he thought.

He felt the boy latching on to him, and he won't deny he felt the sudden urge to do the same which he unintentionally did. The burning sensation in his chest increased the pain, becoming unbearable 'fuuuuuck!'

On the other hand Cartman never felt more peaceful in Kenny's arms, he felt like he was in the clouds and couldn't recall why the sensation just felt like he was falling but there was no fear of an impact just comfort with in the clouds and sky.

Stan and Kyle didn't bare interrupt the two boys as they knew it was needed to get out and Kenny knew how to do it but they couldn't help feeling a little discomfort as this felt intimate and private. Atleast for Stan it wasn't displeasing just disturbing while with Kyle it was the opposite. He found the boys sudden closeness displeasing he just didn't know why.

Sudden the back door sling open reveling Jack. Kyle prepared his gun and pointed at him making him stop in his tracks.

"You guys don't know what're you're doing! Fuck, ¡no!," He exclaimed once he saw Kenny holding on to Cartman and vice-versa. He knew there was no longer takes back as their ritual bound was already in the stages of ending.

The two boys burst into flames seemingly showing no response to it. Atleast from Cartman's part, internally for Kenny it was a pain in the ass but he didn't show it. Sweat begin to pop up in his skin and his nails digged up in Cartman's suit, wincing his eyes shut.

Their silloette formed a door which proceeded to opened.

"Dude! I think it's the portal!," Stan exclaimed getting near it, while Kyle shot Tenorman in the head once more before following Stan. Not after glancing at Kenny and Cartman before jumping through the portal.

Cartman then layyed down flat finally letting go of Kenny. The blonde watched him while he started twisting in pain 'this is it' he then looked at Cartman, suddenly understanding before proceeding to enter the portal, finally vanishing.

Kenny sigh as he turned into ashes finally dying.

[...]

"Morning dudes," Kenny salute, beaming. He was in a good mood after all.

"Sup Kenny," Stan greeted.

"Hey Kenny," Kyle added.

"Cartman hasn't arrived yet?."

"That fat fuck probably forgot to turn his alarm on," the red head spoke with a yawn.

"Or, he did set an alarm but ignored it," Stan added.

"Either sound possible."

Not long after Cartman got on the bus greeting them.

"Hey dipshits!," he proceeded to take a seat next to Kenny who grinned at him, "so how you guys dealing after the hell incident?," he asked.

Stan and Kyle just raised a brow confused.

"What're you talking about, fatass?," Kyle then added while frowning not wanting to deal with Cartman's shit again this early in the morning.

"Yeah, dude, you alright?," Stan chimed in.

Kenny stared at Cartman still beaming while he saw the bigger boy's face turned in disbelief.

"Dude! I literally died a horrible death not long ago! Remember? Hell!? Kyle you literally went to save me!," he screamed.

"Did he also came in a shining armor?," Stan teased while both best friends, then, howl in laughter.

Cartman pouted bitterly. Kenny put a hand on his shoulder understanding well enough the feeling. The boy glance at him.

"Welcome to the club," he smiled.

Cartman looked up at the two boys infront of him that still found themselves laughing then looked at Kenny, smiling back.

"This sucks ass."

They both chuckled.

[...]

Kyle found himself approaching Cartman while they were entering the school entrance.

"Hey, fatass."

"What up," the fat boy answered while he took out his phone.

"About me saving you did I also bring a sword?," he bite his upper lip before bursting into laughter.

"Ha ha very funny Kahal," the boy said bitterly, "actually not only did you showed up in a shining armor, a sword, but you also kissed me on the lips as I was the damsel in distress." honestly was not the best combat but it was the first thing that came into spot. He wasn't planning to let Kyle have the last word after feeling still bitter about the red head not recalling the previous events.

Kyle was left baffled by that. For some reason Cartman's stupidity was beyond compression but the mystical accusation left him speechless.

Cartman had already proceeded on leaving to class but Kyle just stood there blank hearing a small noise in his ears that kinda sounded like 'hootie and the blowfish'.

In class Kenny had both his hands clenched, excited. He never felt more happy knowing someone does remember! Not only that, but the bound ritual just made their bound strengthen, as he watched Cartman knowing the other boy felt the same. He knew the feelings were true cause he felt it, they both felt each other when their soul united once more 'as gay as that sounds'. Cartman looked back at him sharing that same beaming felling before returning to bother Wendy interrupting her speech with slurs an unwanted opinions.

He always felt alone knowing no one remember him dying, an as much as he had his moments despising Cartman there was now this warmth comforting feeling that someone other than him knew, even if it were a bigot like Cartman. It's not like he could complain much after all, they will be forever bounded by a soul so there's no preventing being connected to one an other.

But he'd care less, he wasn't alone no more.

He smiled once again, he's been feeling all giggly all morning, he just couldn't help it. He was happy and today was just a nice super fantastic day.

School had ended as the bell rang.

The four boys walked with each other discussing what they'll do this evening as a squad.

"What about boar-"

"Stan, I swear to God if you say 'board games' once more I'll kill myself," Cartman interrupted by grunting.

Stan frowned.

"No offense dude, but Cartman's right. We've been playing boards games three times in a row for weeks," Kyle chimed in.

Kenny nodded. He knew Stan had developed a new obsession with board games when he moved to the farm and starting hanging out with Tolkien, which we didn't seem to mind much, but it had gotten boring being repeated multiple times everytime they hang out.

"What about cards?," the blonde suggested.

"Same shit," Cartman rolled his eyes with that.

Is that 'hootie and the blowfish' they began hearing in the background?

"Does anyone hear that?," Stan asked looking around.

"No," Kyle quickly stated.

"Anyways, what about basketball?," Cartman suggested while putting his attention on the others, his hands gripped on to his waist.

"You know what? That doesn't sound like a bad idea Cartman," Stan agreed while turning his focus onto Kyle who seemed kinda spaced out.

"Hm?," the boy said before barfing on Cartman.

'BLEEEEARGH!'

"Ah! Gross dude! Wtf Kahl!?," he wince disgusted wiping off the barf from his jacket, "disgusting!," he kept complaining.

"Sorry!."

"Woah dude," Stan exclaimed.

"I think breakfast didn't do me too well," the boy explained while rubbing his stomach, nauseous.

"Fuck you! You're so fucking disgusting!," Cartman kept rambling angry while walking off, seemingly going home, "ew! Screw you guys I'm going home."

"Sorry, Cartman!," Kyle apologized once more before returning his attention to the others, "so is basketball still on the list?."

"Hell yeah."

Cartman not long after joined the other three with a new jacket staying farther away from Kyle claiming that he didn't want the ginger to barf on him again which the boy rolled his eyes from and Stan calling him out a 'pussy' while continuing playing the game.

It was a nice evening with the four boys peacefully enjoying their company as everthing had turned back to normal.

[1-sasha-stuff-1]

In Another World - MHA x Reader

A/N: This is my fist fanfic I've ever written so I apologize if it's cringy and all that. I just wanted to write some of this for fun, I know that there might be some words that shouldn't go where they are supposed to be but I'm just testing the ropes. Hope you enjoy and all. This fic is posted on Quotev under the username:

InsertName (InsertName89437)

And on Wattpad under the unsername:

What- (@Someone__random)

Key:

Y/n - your name

b/n - brothers name

s/n - sisters name 

| | | | |

POV: Y/n

Location: Minnesota, USA

Date: ##, ##, ####

Earth - 2097

______________________________________________________________________

Everything happened so fast, one moment I was walking on the sidewalk to school until I ended up in a hospital bed fighting for my life, literally. I got here due to an incident that will forever change my life. 

It started off when I was getting ready for school at 6 am. Yes, 6 am because I have three other siblings and two of them; my older brother and younger sister; love to take up to almost an eternity in the bathroom. 

Having the strength I needed, I got up and made my bed, went to a show and other bathroom business, went back to my room and got dressed. My outfit for today was black leggings, white Airwalks with white low socks, a tight gray shirt, an oversized brown hoodie, my red glasses, the ring that had my name engraved in it, and finally, I did my hair into a ponytail. 

I then went back to my room to grab my forest green backpack that has whatever I needed for school and other random stuff. 

Walking into the kitchen, I ate some breakfast and went on my way after saying my ‘goodbyes’ and ‘I love you’s’ to my parents. 

My siblings were still in bed due to the fact that I decided to walk to school instead of taking the usual bus that came to pick us up at around 7:25. 

The walk to school is usually around 30 minutes. So, I pulled out my phone with an anime YMHA themed case and checked the time; 7:00.

“I should get there in about 30 minutes.” I noted myself as I went onto Spotify and played Hamilton's musical playlist, popping in my ear buds as I walked my way out of the neighborhood and began my trek towards school. 

My parents think that having an All Might themed, and an Eraser head themed phone case was weird, and that I should’ve bought a book or something at Barnes and Nobles. But it’s whatever, I guess. 

It’s not like I’m obsessed with that anime only though, I also like Demon slayer, Tokyo revengers, and Attack on titan. The fandoms are okay, except for Mha’s fandom. It makes me want to bleach out my eyes and pour holy water on them. Other than that, I actually like it.

At least I’m not like any other typical (your ethnicity) 15-year-old girl who likes to be out on the streets doing who knows what. 

As I looked around, I noticed that I’m just under the bridge. Not even at the half point yet, and so to save some time later on I ran across the road after looking both ways to get to the other side and continue on my way.

“Why does the school system request we bring textbooks home?” I complained while walking. 

I finally made it to the fairgrounds, and it was already 7:30.

“Shit I’m goanna be late!” I said as I sped past the fairgrounds and by the time, I finally made it to the crosswalk that separated me and the school it was already 7:50.

“Dammit, only 5 minutes before the first bell.” I thought as I waited for the cross guard to say I could cross.

“Can’t these cars go any faster?!”  I say in my mind as I check the time; 7:55. I only have 5 minutes before I’m officially late for school. And I really don’t want my parents yelling at me for that.

As if a god heard my prayers, the cross guard let me cross the street.

I started speed-walking across the street until something decided to body slam me hard while taking all my breath away. And guess what, it was a Ram truck that rammed into me. 

“Too much ram not enough dodge” I thought as my body flew across the street a couple of meters.

I finally landed with a thud and felt pain and only pain throughout my entire body. It feels like I’m there but I’m not there at the same time.

As I lay on the road like roadkill, I began to hear a lot of commotion at the same time. I hear what sounds like doors slamming, people shouting and a lot of gasps here and there.

Was this the way I was going to die? On the road? I mean, at least give me some time to make my will and shit. 

I then felt myself being shaken by someone, telling me something inaudible.

What felt like forever to me but only 5 minutes to the people around me, blue and red flashes of light were seen and sirens were heard. 

It all sounded very faint to my ears, but I could still hear it.   

I felt myself being lifted up from the ground and onto something softer. That's when I noticed that it was a stretcher and that the ambulance had come. I felt being transported into an ambulance and as the doors closed shut, the paramedics/medics surrounded me and started doing something. 

They started asking things or talking but it was hard to hear, and so I closed my eyes and lost consciousness. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I finally woke up.

Sitting up straight I look around to see the room dark. “So, it was night.” I thought to myself as I noticed some type of plastic bracelet on my ankle.

“So, I am in a hospital.” I say to myself. My body still hurts like hell though, and only now do I notice that I have an oxygen mask on.

I look down to my arms and see PICC lines intact and connected to a blood bag.

“So, I am dying…” I thought as I looked around once again. I find a balcony this time, and so I pull out the lines and take the mask off and head my way towards the balcony.

Opening the screen door and closing it behind me, I notice a rocking chair, making my way towards the chair and I finally sit down. 

Looking up at the sky, I begin to just talk to the stars and the moon as if it were my family. 

“I remember having a rocking chair at home, it was blue and white. Dad and I would always sit outside late at night like this. Enjoying our own company.”.

Silence, so I continue to talk more.

“Oi mom, do you remember that one time I burnt the beans? Huh, I always seemed to blame you for it…I’m sorry….”.

“Hey b/n, s/n, b/n. Sorry for being a prick to you guys. I really do love you guys…I’m just bad at showing it.”

Tears flowed down my face. I’m goanna miss them all. Mom, Dad...b/n, s/n, b/n... 

I start to feel my eyes closing shut, and so with my last breath I say:

“.... I’ll be sure that I’ll say ‘hi’ to grandpa for you guys………”.  

As I said those last words, my eyes finally closed shut from the world I used to live in, now falling into oblivion.  

“I can finally rest properly now.”

E̸͕͑̌̊́̎̾͘͝͝r̷̛̍̓̄̽̀̓̓̒͘ͅR̶̨̞̥̘̞͙̠͔͗̎̑̋ọ̸͔̪̅̓̍̇̈́̄̔̍R̷̛̗̻̆̽̾̑̈́̈̉͒͘͝ ̸̡̞̳̱̯̦̖̂͐̓ ̴̺̥̌̍̽̋͋́̾̀̾̋̇ ̸̢̧̭̤̯̥̙͍̰̟̟̹̈́̅̎͊̀̏͐̀͝͠ ̷̡͎̻͔̙̙̞͚̬̈́̈́͗̌́͒̋̐̅ ̵̧̧̗͕̩̣̤͔̟̀́̏̅ ̸̧̢̪̗̞̫̺͚̲͓̞͕̯͛̅̂͒͑́̓̂̓̔͋͜͠ ̴̝̺̽̽̎̎̄͂̿̇̏̃̈́̊̃̚̕͝ ̶̘̥͉̼͛̑̽̈̾͌̈́̒͜ ̵̢̢̨̛͎̳̪̠̞̙̩͉̯͑̈́͒͗͜ͅ ̵̩̹̰̠͉̤͓̗̝́͋̔͗͑̃̅̓̾̆͘̚̚ ̵̨̯̭̬̩̺̣̭̽͠ ̶̨̧̮̖̗̫̟͙̮̰͂͂̑̔̕͘ ̸̲̲͉͍̲̩̻̲̝̯͕̬̈̍͌̔̕ ̸̢̡̢̝͓̘̳͚̟̻̬̰̼͐͊̿͒̑͗͗̑̑̃̑͗͌͝͝ ̴̜̘͈͖͔͉̹̲͌̉͛̇͌̑͜ ̵̬́͒̒͒̂̽͘ͅ ̶̢̤̩̬̿̊̇̉͋̄͛͂̾͆͝͝͝ ̸̨̢̡̭̗̠͕̺̼̬͎͕̮͚̓͌̊̄ͅͅ ̶̫̗̠̗̩͌͌ ̶̱̗̐̂͋ ̵̹̙̣͖̩̘͈̻̤͉͖̒̓̀́̈́͑͒̅͜͠ͅġ̷̛͍̖̝͋́͐̈́͗̐͋͐̏̀̓͝Ļ̸̞͙̘̥̼̥̹̩̫̬̣̻̿̈̿͋̊͂̅̓̓̆͊̓́̿͛̊͜͝ͅi̴̧̛̙̦̇̅̀̈́͜T̶̨͎̹̮̮̀͐̈́̇̊̂̔͛̚͠͝ç̶͇͙̓͒͌̾̏͂͗̽̈́̈́̈́̀͘͝͝H̵̤̬̲̭̪̝͉̺̳̦͈̼̖̺̹̳̱̎͊́̆̃͠ ̴̤͎̇͑̒͒̍̐̇̋̓͗͛͘͘̚͜ ̸̧̯̱͖̟͊̃̒̌̂̇́͋̐̀̍͆͋͌͝ ̶͕̱̦̥͈̣̳͇̮̦̠̭̙͇̦̐̋̿̈͐͒̕̚͝ ̶̫̳̮̝̻̄̄̔̈́͐̋̆͜͜͝͝͠ ̴̛̥̩̼̩̝͕̥͕͈͎̹̍̓̌̎͒̅͊̕̕͝ ̵͍͖̥̮͍͓̱̠͒̅̾̀̂͗̌̀́ ̴̨̛͈̭̲͍̘̮̘͉̪͉̖̰̦͓̈̏̑̑̍͗̏̾́̓̉̈́͆̋̚͝ ̵̢̤̗̱̀͐̿̏͘̚ ̶̢͚̯��̯͇̘̳̞̳̲̯̩͖̪̋̔̔̌̏͂̆̈́͘͜͠ͅ ̷̡̛̦̟̼͙͔͓̰̒̉͆̀̉̚ͅ ̸̨̧̘̳͉̫̳̥̹̩͊̈́́̅̂́͐̕͝ ̴̫̐͒̓̂̾̀̅̄͐̕͝͝͝ ̵͈͇̻̗͇̖̗̐ ̸̨̨̹͙̩̱͇͕̟͚̘̟̱̋͋͜͠ ̴̧̨̡̥̹̦͚̙͇͙̮̱͉́͊̊̇͛́͒̆̒͆̍́̎͊̽̀ͅ ̸̨͖̪͚̼̥̀͝ ̴̠̤̻͒̀̓̃̈́̌̇̋̾́͗̋̽̌̽͜͝ ̸̡��̨̟̱͉̩̰̰̜̦̳̖̮͈̉̌͒̎͊̌͊̏̏̿͗̄̀́̇ ̶̛̪͔͕͇̆́̾͆̈̄́̂ ̴̡̡̛͎̳̝͚̻̗͉͓̼̩͕̜̝̘̽̈̀̒̍̆͆́̒͋͋̕̚̚̚͝ͅ ̴̨̛̪̬̇̀̀̐̓́͗̌̚ ̷̨̺̞̙͓̣̺̲͑̎̿̉̍̇̑̇̔̓̈̕͜͝ ̷͓͓̖͌̉̔̅̄̐͊͋̄̎͂͗ ̶̨̧̦̩̳͚̹̖͉̣̱̰͕̱̻̯̀̀͋͛͒́͋̋̀͝

I open my eyes.

Wait, didn't I just die? All I see is white. Just white.

Looking around in confusion I thought, “Is this really what happens after death?”. I don’t see anything but white, and it makes me sick. 

I now look at myself, I’m still wearing the same clothing I died with. And I still have the things that I died with, which included my backpack, phone, and earbuds. 

I finally look down to my hands, specifically my middle finger on my left hand. There layed a silver ring that has my name engraved in it. It was a gift from my dad. I ran my other fingers from my right hand along it and felt tears consuming up in my eyes, ready to go down like a raging river. I wipe the tears away before they could fall, no use in crying now.

Looking up, I let out a loud gasp as I saw a figure standing right in front of me. It was about average height, and it didn’t have any physical appearance other than the shape of a regular human.

“Are you Jasmin?” they asked. I was stunted, but nodded slightly as it then continued to speak.

“Do you wish for another chance?”. 

“...What do you mean by another chance?" suspicion started to seep into my mind as I asked that question to them. 

“Another chance at life, in another world.” they simply said as if it were so obvious. 

I was bewildered, another life in another world. They seemed to sense my hesitation because they spoke again.

“I know it sounds too good to be true, but I offer this to those who didn’t get to live their life to the fullest. So, I’ll ask you again, Jasmin. Would you like another chance?” 

Giving it some thought, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. Infact, I think this is the perfect chance at where I want to live again.

“Can I keep my memories and choose which world I want to live in, along with the timeline?” asking them while having an idea of what I want. 

They seemed to think about it for a second and slightly nodded their head. And so that was the moment where I went full on anime mode on it.

“Alright. I would like to live in the MHA world and grow up during the time where all the characters like Midoriya and all the other characters are growing up. And that should be around the year ####. I’d also like to have a hero worthy quirk as well so that I can become a hero or something. I’d also want to be able to live in Japan, anywhere that works as long as I’m close to UA. And I’d like to keep my normal appearance but other than that, I’m done.”. I end that with a serious face while looking at them. They began to speak back to me in response, “I don’t think you know how this works-”, before they could even finish, I gave them a dead serious look.

“Man, I’m dead. At least let me live in a place where I choose.” I said as they finally gave in., they began to put their hands together and all sorts of colorful lights surrounded them. After a minute or two, they finally opened up their hands and revealed a black and yellow pill in their hands.

“Once you swallow this pill, you can’t go ba-” before they could even finish their sentence, I already snatched that pill and swallowed it whole. Nothing happened for a hot minute, but I started to feel off. My vision started to get blurry and black spots started to cloud my eyesight and soon enough I was in the void again.

______________________________________________________________________

POV: Y/n

Date: (Your birth date, minus the year)

Location - Tokyo, Japan

Earth - 2376

______________________________________________________________________

As the effect took place, it finally began to fade away. I opened my eyes to be greeted by adults surrounding me. One of them was holding me up, a woman. And beside her was a man. I looked around at the other adults and realized they were doctors. So, I was in a hospital after all.

“I think we’ll call you, y/n. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” the woman said while the man smiled happily along with her. The doctors around us were congratulating as they got some paperwork out. At that moment I realized that one of the doctor's faces had not two, but three eyes. And that’s when I realized that I was where I wished to be.

In the Mha-world.

| | | | Well, I'll be posting more and keeping you all up to date, see ya!

[heavensbeehall]

"Mockingjay", Chapter 5

Part 1: The Ashes

Chapter 5: Katniss gets prepped! Katniss takes the Preps to lunch and Posy is the cutest. Gale tries to make up with Katniss after defending Coin's ultimatum the previous night. Katniss is still angry. Gale stands by what he said. They are sent to Beetee in Special Defense. Beetee is watching hummingbirds. Gale thinks of a way to snare them. Beetee has made a new bow for Katniss, which is very cool. But Katniss can't say the line "People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice" because it's dumb. And then our old friend Haymitch Abernathy shows up.

Thoughts:

I didn't queue anything for today. I am behind on my reading. It feels oddly like I didn't do my homework.

But she has been the quickest to determine that I have an agenda of my own and am therefore not to be trusted. She has been the first to publicly brand me as a threat.

In this respect, Coin is a bit smarter than Snow, maybe? I don't think he thinks much of women, especially teenage girls, and thought he had her "under control." A lot of what Katniss has to do in this book (going where Coin wants, faking her simulation in training, and most crucially saying yes to the new Hunger Games) is about lulling Coin into that false sense of complacency.

She told me she had several mice at home as pets. The thought repulsed me at the time, since we consider mice vermin, unless cooked. But perhaps Octavia liked thembecause they were small, soft, and squeaky. Like her.

Another comparison between the Preps and animals.

But it's Posy, Gale's five-year-old sister, who helps the most. She scoots along the bench to Octavia and touches her skin with a tentative finger. "You're green.Are you sick?" "It's a fashion thing, Posy. Like wearing lipstick," I say. "It's meant to be pretty," whispers Octavia, and I can see the tears threatening to spill over her lashes. Posy considers this and says matter-of-factly, "I think you'd be pretty in any color."

No real thoughts just love for Posy Hawthorne. She's a star.

"I mean you put her in a bad position. Making her give Peeta and the others immunity when we don't even know what sort of damage they might cause," Gale had said.

Gale, babe, you've fallen in with a bad crowd. (And I know it's because he's excited to finally be part of an army that will take on the Capitol, but I want to sit him down, like on a bad sitcom "special episode" and say "Is Alma Coin pressuring you in any way, Gale? If Alma Coin jumped off a bridge would you do it too?")

In preparation for the Quell, I saw a tape where Beetee, who was still a boy, connected two wires that electrocuted a pack of kids who were hunting him. The convulsing bodies, the grotesque expressions. Beetee, in the moments that led up to his victory in those long-ago Hunger Games, watched the others die. Not his fault. Only self-defense. We were all acting only in self-defense…

Ugh I want to know more about how all the victors won, does that make me an awful person? Also, why does fandom not blame Beetee for what happens later like it does Gale?

But I don't know what to tell him about the aftermath of killing a person. About how they never leave you.

I don't know why but this made me think of the book Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe. It's about the Irish Republican Army in general. But there was a bit about the disconnect between the Irish people who lived in Belfast and heard the bombs and the American Irish Diaspora, who often sent or paid for the weapons. It's a lot easier to say they should keep on fighting if you don't have to do the killing. Anyway, I recommend the book.

[the-kcm-muggleborn]

Kind For You

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

O/C: Sebastian Sallow x Edwart Thompson x Ominis Gaunt ✨️platonic✨️ (My OC)

Warnings: Swearing like quite a lot

Word count: 1k>

Chapter 2

Part 7

“This was getting uncomfortable.” Sebastian thought. Usually, the three of the boys would talk a lot during potions. Especially with Edwart's tutoring Ominis a bit. This time, nothing. Edwart was silent.

He hasn't been like this since his first day.

Edwart as usual finished all his assigned potions already so he started working on his other school work as Ominis was struggling with his unfinished potion. Sebastian could occasionally notice Edwart looking at Ominis as if considering if he should help him or not. Sebastian got quite the bollock from Ominis in the Undercroft that day. But apparently, he didn't even get the worst of it. Edwart was fuming but he kept his guard. As Sebastian thought he finally started opening up he closed off and stopped speaking entirely. So Sebastian thought it was time to speak with Ominis and convince him to hide his Slytherin pride for five minutes and apologise. Edwart deserves an apology after everything he has confessed to Sebastian.

“Ominis.” Sebastian started wasting no time with his friend. “I know you are angry with me and you have every reason to be. I don't blame you...”

Class finished and Edwart grabbed his things and left as quickly as he could.

Ominis signed. “But..?”

“But.” Sebastian continued. “You have to apologise to Edwart. I don't care if he did something wrong or not. If he angered you too or not. Whatever you've said to him you have to take it back and apologise mate.”

Ominis exhaled deeply and tilted his head to the side. Rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes, I am aware I acted quite sharply with him. I tried apologising but he's avoiding me. I will try again soon.”

“Alright. Good.” Sebastian patted him on the shoulder and got up to leave.

“I was wondering.” Ominis suddenly “Did you ever find out what was in that letter he got?”

“Why the sudden interest?” Sebastian asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I know you two have been talking…”

If Edwart's sleeping schedule was bad before it was almost nonexistent now. “I have two hours before my next class. I should get some work done in the library.” Edwart was just given the Room of Requirement by Professor Weasley and as much as he was using it for brewing potions and growing his plants. He didn't feel comfortable with the artificial air there, he was feeling stuffed. That's why today he wanted to study in the library.

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As he finally felt himself getting comfortable behind one of the desks in the corner, he felt himself drift asleep. After a while, he was woken up by careful but heavy steps that woke him up from his moment of peace.

“I- I’m sorry” Ominis's quiet voice spoke. “Did I wake you?”

Edwart thought for a moment. “No. I couldn’t sleep either way. What do you want?”

“I want to apologise,” Ominis said, tilting his head to the side as Edwart stood to his feet.

“Of course you do,” Edwart scoffed bitterly. “Not interested,” he said flatly as he began to gather his things to leave.

“Please.” Ominis stopped him. “I have to fix this. I acted awfully towards you.”

Edwart took an extremely deep breath as he understood Ominis’s pleading. “Sebastian told you, didn't he? Fuck. What are both of your endgames here? To gain my trust and to spill my secrets? To use and hurt me?” Edwart felt tears sting in the corners of his eyes from tiredness and frustration. He was grateful Ominis couldn't see him like this. Edwart took the bridge of his nose with his fingers and let out a shaky breath.

Ominis decided to try something Edwart certainly didn't expect. Gently Ominis put his hand on Edwart’s shoulder as he spoke in a collected voice.

“I made a mistake Edwart. I was frustrated with Sebastian and I took it out on you, that shouldn't have happened. There was no need for threats that night which I apologise for. Sebastian and I aren't playing any games with you. We just want to understand you better. It seems your past is a big piece of who you are. I know it's not easy when people speak about it behind your back. I had experienced it first hand.” Ominis finished still holding his hand on Edwart's shoulder. Edwart sniffled, holding back his tears with every left strength he had.

“I accept your apology.” Edwart finally spoke as Ominis retracted his hand. Edwart already missed that unfamiliar warmth on his shoulder. “I apologise for being so emotional. I am overprotective of my past for a reason. I've done things you see. Things that still haunt me at night. Things I am deeply ashamed of.”

“I think most of us experienced something similar. You are not alone in this.” Ominis tried comforting.

“Of course. I didn't come here to press.” Ominis replied with a shy smile.

“Could we leave it at that? Please.” Edwart said tiredly.

“I know. Thank you for your apology. It meant a lot.” Edwart took a bit of a pause. “I was wondering, why were you so angry at Sebastian?”

“Ah, that! He’s just been pestering me with a favour that’s been getting on my nerves lately. Don’t worry about it."

“I was hoping to see you.” Professor Fig spoke with a smile

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“You're back! Oh, it's good to see you.”

“And you. This trip to the Ministry took too long. Minister Spavin talked more than he listened. Ranted on and on about rouge dragons, and wouldn’t listen to a word about goblins. Speaking of which.” Edwart interrupted.

“Listen, Professor. So much happened while you were away…”

Edwart went on explaining what he was up to the past weeks not missing a single thing.

“Why am I not surprised? You’ve done well. How are you doing by the way? Sleeping any better?” Fig asked with concern in his voice.

“Unfortunately not. I uh- got into trouble and Mrs. Robinson sent me an owl talking about revoking my privileges in the summer.” Edwart answered a bit sheepishly.

“Ugh. That nasty woman. I'll try to sort it out for you, but…” Professor Fig held the bridge of his nose as he exhaled.

“But there's a chance it won't do anything. I'm aware. Don't worry about it. Shall we head to the map chamber?” Edwart answered with a smile.

After Edwart was finished with his classes, he said his goodbyes to Sebastian and Ominis as he told them he'll be spending a day with Professor Fig off the school grounds. "Ah! I have to change." Edwart thought. "I'm not going to complete some sort of challenging trial in my school robes." As he threw on an old jumper, he noticed a colourful scarf peaking from his luggage. "Mother's scarf..." he thought as he picked it up with a small smile. Then he took his broom and flew forward San Bakar’s Tower.

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When Edwart landed, Professor Fig was already waiting.

“That's a fine broom you've got there. How's flying going so far?”

“Not too bad. Seems I’ve gotten the hang of it.”

As Professor Fig and Edwart tried to silently eliminate the hostile goblins but it didn't go as well as planned when one goblin noticed Edwart and decided to attack which started a small explosive battle. When it was quiet again Professor Fig asked in a concerned voice. “Are you alright?”

“I'm okay. I just got burned a little.” Edwart winced and took a swig of Wiggenweld. Both headed forward to the tower door. Finally, they found Professor Rackhams’ Portree, where he gave them directions regarding the first trial.

“This is where I must leave you, I'm afraid. I'll try to research about Goblins. Be careful. I'll meet you back at the map chamber.”

“Of course, Professor.”With that, Edwart turned around to look for the whispers of the ancient magic as Professor Fig disappeared.

It took quite some time to finish the first trial. There was a lot of jumping, climbing, and summoning. When Edwart won against the last guardian, he felt the exhaustion in his bones.

But finally, he made it to the pensive where he studiously watched the memories before returning to the map chamber to meet the Second Professor. Professor Rookwood and to find out he was already preparing a second trial for Edwart.

“I think I have an idea.” Edwart spoke to Professor Fig “Saw Sirona Ryan talking to a friendly goblin in Three Broomsticks. She is trustworthy, I think I should try there first.”

“That's a good idea. I'll keep on researching And I'll let you know if I find anything. Of course, don't neglect your studies. And be careful.”

“Yes, Professor,” Edwart answered with a smile. "See you soon."

<Part 6

MASTERLIST

- - - - - - - - - Author's notes- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Aaaand we are oficially DONE with Chapter 2. Ah Ominis apologising, Edwart cracking under all the pressure and Sebby being a wingman to bring his friends together. And TELL ME, you didn't want to see Eddie in something other than his yellow school robes! I certainly wanted to see that! But don't worry! Chapter 3 is already on the stove cooking for your hungry souls:)