#you're not reading too far into it. there isn't really a final decision on what their relationship is. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kekaki-cupcakes · 1 year ago

Note

Hiiii! I loved ur Hermes kid!

Could I ask for a male son of Dionysus x either Leo or nico?

Sorry if I got ya wrong and don’t feel pressured or anything!

Have a lovely day!

When there isn't a lot of info in an ask I kinda have to make the reader a personality so that it isn't too bland too read so sorry to y'all that aren't like this <3

Redecoration---Nico di Angelo x Son of Dionysus

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico had been glaring at the roof of skulls for a solid ten minutes, sort of hoping the hatred in his eyes would just poof them out of existence, when someone finally showed up.

Apparently after an incident in the Aphrodite cabin, people weren’t allowed to just grab a bucket of paint and some new furniture to fuck around and find out, which was why Nico had been sent someone to help him fix the mess that was the Hades cabin.

Apart from the hundred skulls hot glue gunned to the rood, the beds were wooden coffins, the lamps were ancient looking chandeliers, and all of the walls were a dark ugly gray, like there was a serious mold problem. Now that he thought about it, the color might actually be a mold problem.

“Never fear, goth! For I am here!”

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Nico took a deep breath and turned around, obsidian eyes already narrowed with dislike as he took in the taller boy trotting over. He was holding a crate in his arms, filled with color swatches and chunks of fabrics, magazines sticking out of the top.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who needs redecorating, right?” The boy asked, already letting himself into the dim cabin that smelt of rich dark chocolate for some reason. “Yeah… no offense but we have to fix this, even if you're the wrong person.”

Nico felt a sudden need to defend the atrocious carpet and bat shaped door knocker from this boy, who was wearing a maroon shirt picturing a glass of wine. “I was eight.”

“No shame here, everyone makes bad decisions.”

There didn’t seem to be any point arguing with this boy, who had already dumped the box of supplies on one of the coffin bed lids, and was staring around at the dark cabin, hands on his hips.

Nico just followed him inside, shoving his hands into the slightly ripped pockets of his aviator jacket. He peered into the cardboard box, which was promptly tipped out onto the ground. He watched with a frown as the son of Mr D sat on the carpet and began rifling through the empty notebooks and cut up magazines. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, scrapbooking? We can’t just start painting the walls yellow yet, you have to plan this stuff out, goth.” He said, as if it was obvious. Then he smirked. “You don’t like arts and crafts?”

Nico’s frown deepened, but he couldn’t let this mildly infuriating boy with surprisingly cool bracelets upstage him. “I love arts and crafts.”

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and pulled out a leather bound book containing a few stickers and a strip of torn paper where a page had been pulled out. “Are you just gonna stand there in the corner and be grumpy?... That wasn’t sarcasm, you can if you want, I was just checking.”

Nico wasn’t an asshole, of course he was going to help. Still, he had to glare at the boy for that comment. Then he sat down and opened one of the magazines, which was featuring a life sized Barbie Dream House bed frame, fluffy pillows included. He flicked the page over with a grimace.

“So, what kinda vibe are we going for?”

“What?”

“I’m assuming you're sick of Dracula,” he said, waving his arms at the general doom and gloom around them. “So what aesthetic are we replacing it with?”

Nico didn’t want to admit he hadn’t planned this far into the venture, he’d really just been hoping he could repaint the walls, or maybe burn the whole thing down and start over. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Okay, well… I’m assuming you wanna keep it edgy, but seriously? A roof of skulls? You’re not a caveman. Maybe we should go with an Addams family style.” He shivered. “With less spiderwebs and disembodied hands. “

Ah, another gap in his modern education. “What’s an Addams family?”

All Nico got in return was a gaping mouth and wide eyes. “How do you not- okay, I’m making you watch the entire timeline later, but for now we need to pick a color scheme.”

Nico opened his mouth.

“Not black.”

Nico closed his mouth.

“Obviously there’ll be lots of black, but you need another color to fit with it, something dark and scary but colorful.” He pulled out a binder of color swatches, and flipped it open, skimming the pages of baby blues and lavenders. “Maybe dark green, or...”

“Red.” Nico said, peering over at the pages of ruby and scarlet. He pointed to the dark one, which had a little title below, ‘Blood red’. It was a little on brand, but it was better than ‘Crimson Tide’.

“Oooh, nice. If we keep the walls black, and pull up the black carpet, there’ll be floorboards underneath.” He started to ramble, ripping a color swatch out of the binder and gluing it into the leather bound book. He glanced around at the musty cabin.

“We can get a red rug for the middle of the cabin, and definitely new beds, but if we get Drew to refurbish the chandeliers they’ll look great. Oh, and the coffin bed frames could be a bookshelf if we get the mattress out and ask Nyssa to put some shelves in. Do you read? Because otherwise it’s sort of pointless. But so are the skulls on the roof, so…”

“You’re good at this.”

It took Nico a moment to realize what he’d just blurted, and when he did the warmth was already in his cheeks. He’d only been a little caught up in watching the son of Dionysus’s eyes sparkle as he talked, pointing to different parts of the cabin, and somehow ruined it. “I mean, you just sound like you’ve, you know, done this a lot.”

The glimmer in their eye didn’t fade, they only grinned harder. “I have. A lot. It’s fun!”

“I suppose so,” Nico said, his lips twitching, and opened another magazine. He skipped a page on clawfoot bathtubs [There was already a white one with gold trim in the bathroom]. There was a large heart shaped mirror, He ignored that too, and found a simple bedframe, painted black. He held it out gingerly. “What about this one?”

“Yes! Good job.” He said, snipping it out of the magazine quickly, and sticking it next to a picture of a glass chandelier. “If you’ve got a simple bed, we could find a zebra print blanket, they always look good with black and red, as long as you don’t have, like, leopard print.”

“I thought you’d like leopard print?”

“And I thought you’d like skulls on your roof and coffin shaped beds,” he teased, with a smug little smile. Nico rolled his eyes, and picked out a strip of dark red fabric, passing it over.

He shook some glitter from his hands, there seemed to be piles of it in the box. “It’s a little over the top, but it’s not as bad as Jason’s cabin. It’s just rock. Everywhere. And a giant statue of his father.”

“Maybe he can be my next client,” he hummed, wiping glue from his fingers onto the molding carpet beneath them. A few shards of rounded glass were taped to the pages of the scrapbook, shining in the light of the dusty stained chandeliers.

Nico wanted to object. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want the boy in front of him with glitter on his cheekbones and scissors in his hands to be cutting out pictures and teasing someone else. Instead he looked away, feeling something in his chest surge, something like fear. Fear of what, he didn’t know, but he cleared his throat and moved on.

“Don’t you have a sister too?”

The fear surged back forwards and Nico whipped around, his tone sharp. “What?”

“The roman one, I swear I saw her the other day, when Reyna visited to plan something or other.” he said casually, not seeing the pale tinge to Nico’s face. “With the overalls and the bulldog?”

“That’s Frank,” Nico said, his shoulder sinking with relief.

“No, I’m pretty sure it was Hazel, she had those light up sketchers, with the little wheels on the bottom.” He said, somehow with a moon shaped sticker on his nose as he stuck little cut out paper skulls around the four page collage.

“Frank’s the bulldog, he can turn into animals.” Nico had a strange urge to reach out and press the sticker on his nose, so instead he held his hands tightly in his lap.

“Well, is there something Hazel’d like in the cabin when she visits? Does she read?”

Nico sighed, and reached back for the magazine he discarded. He shook it open, cut outs of fluffy teddies falling into his lap. He found the page with the heart shaped bathroom mirror and ripped it out carefully. He could take a few hearts in his cabin if Hazel would like them. “This one.”

“Oh, that one's cute, Nyssa could totally make it.”

“I can ask Leo, he owes me a favor.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I haven't killed him yet.”

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico pressed down the front of his shirt. It was a black Camp Halfblood shirt, which he’d gotten from Piper after the Aphrodite cabin had started making shirts in other colors. Apparently there were only so many outfits you could wear with orange.

Black goes with everything though, so it wasn’t a problem for him.

He made his bed [closed the lid of the coffin] and dragged the last of the furniture not nailed to the ground out onto the little deck all of the cabins had. His decking only had a few pairs of shoes and a pot of dead roses he’d never bothered to keep alive. Maybe he’d have another go.

Drew had taken the chandeliers already, to polish them and whatnot, so he only had to wait for his assigned son of Dionysus to show up, and they could start hunting for zebra print blankets and ripping skulls off the ceiling. What fun.

When he still hadn’t shown up, Nico finished pulling all of the previously made bedding from the coffins and dumping it to the side so that Leo could turn it to a bookshelf [He could read, he just had dyslexia thank you very much], and then set off to the Dionysus cabin. It was easy to find, the only male god on the female side, with trelice’s of ivy decorating the whitewashed walls and a grumpy looking leopard snoozing on the purple swinging chair out the front of the small cabin.

He didn’t really want to knock, but he was sure someone would report him for standing around too menacingly if he just waited. He was saved from indecision when the door opened, revealing a tall sandy haired boy.

“You’re the goth, aren’t you?” Pollux sniffed, his nose red. “We can’t help today, but Butch is free, he can do some heavy lifting, and I’m sure Drew’ll criticize your style if you ask nicely enough.”

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“I mean,” Pollux started, rubbing his eyes, and Nico only then realized he was still wearing his pajamas. They had an elongated cartoon owl sticking out of a doorway on it. “Skulls on the ceiling is a bit much, and everyone think you’re a vamp-”

“I meant with you guys, not my style,” Nico interrupted, his eyes narrowed.”

“Someone, decided to go visit Lou Ellen even though we all know she has a cold, and now I have it-” Pollux was cut off once again, his mockingly loud voice reaching the people inside.

“I’m sorry I was concerned for my friend, she wanted soup!”

“She always wants soup!” Pollulx yelled back, and Nico moved past the older child of Dionysus, slipping off his shoes and letting himself into the cabin.

There was nasally muttering behind him and the door slid shut. Nico peered around, and saw a bundle of fluffy blankets on a couch, only a sneezing head poking out the top. “Why did you get sick?”

“I mean it wasn’t really on purpose,” he mumbled back, wiping his nose with a tissue and sinking back into his cocoon. “I can’t help today, but-”

“I don’t care,” Nico started, and plopped down on the white couch, avoiding a deep red stain that could be alcohol or blood. He couldn’t tell. He also didn’t know how to say he’d rather sleep in the coffin again then have to spend the day with someone else.

He sniffed, falling sideways a little on the couch and squinting at the square tv, which was showing some old cartoon about cavemen. “Mkay, well you should probably go if you don’t wanna get sick.”

Nico thought for a moment, trying not to focus on how much he wanted to scoop up the bundle of blankets in his arms far too skinny for that sort of stuff. “Why don’t we watch ‘an Adam family’?

He got watery wide eyes in return and a toothy grin, “wait really?”

“No. If I was making a joke it’d be funnier than that.”

“Okay, let’s watch it,” he said, hopping off the couch and moving to a box of DVDs with a lot of energy for someone so sick. “And it’s the Addams family, goth. You have to learn the basics of this culture if you’re gonna have coffin bookshelves.”

He fiddled around with the tv and then a grainy black and white intro came on, tinny music over the top. Nico watched as he danced to the theme tune in his blanket burrito, all the way back to the couch, where he landed, coughing and winded. Nico raised an eyebrow. “I could’ve done that, you’re sick.”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” he mumbled, tucking the fluffy socks on his feet up onto the white couch and wiggling with excitement. Nico watched him for a moment, and then turned back to the TV, feeling his lips twitch into a grin.

Duh duh duh duh, click click. Duh duh duh duh, click click.

Their creepy and they're kooky-

»»————-　★　————-««

“Neeks, this mirror is so cute!”

“You’re welcome,” Nico muttered, rubbing his nose and rolling over, pulling the zebra print doona cover further over his head.

He heard Hazel’s wheelie shoes click along the floorboards and she gilded out of the bathroom. When he peered out, her hair was in bunchies and she was pulling a purple hoodie over her head. “It’s so much nicer in here now, but how did you get sick redecorating?”

“Uhm..There was a lot of dust. I might be allergic?”

The door slammed open, the clear chandelier hanging from the roof shaking as Nyssa trudged in, her work boots leaving mud on the fluffy blood red rug. She was holding the glitter covered scrapbook in her gloved hands.

“So, I know I’m supposed to make everything in this, but what am I supposed to do with the polaroid of you kissing Mr D ‘s kid?”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #nico di angelo #nico #nico pjo #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo x you #nico di angelo x son of dionysus #hazel levesque #Pollux pjo #Hades #Hades cabin #death siblings

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yagirlwrites · 11 months ago

Text

(Not) My Baby (4)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N makes a decision with the help of her friends but Rafe isn't going to like it.

A/N: Not me posting this at 1am on a Thursday lmao! Y'all it's finally here! Part 4! I have been in such a massive slump and had huge writers block for many months. Honestly don't know how I wrote this tbh🤣 That being said I'm not super happy about my writing here but I'm posting it because y'all deserve to get it immediately, you've waited long enough! Hope you enjoy this part! Love you all❤️

Series Masterlist

My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️

Happy reading! 🥰

(Not) My Baby (Part 4)

"So what are you gonna do?" Y/N sighed at her friend's question. She knew it was wishful thinking that they might finish breakfast before Stella brought up the issue. To be fair to her, she hadn't mentioned it all night and Y/N managed to actually get some sleep because of it.

But now it was time to face the music and deal with her problem. Fuck.

"What are we talking about?" Lena's voice came from the doorway, the girl looking like she had been through the wringer. The girls at the table almost giggled at her messy appearance, given her usual insistance on being put together at all times.

"Well, hello to you too. Couldn't be bothered sending a text that you'd be home late? Again?" Lena blushed at Stella's words, knowing she was right and she had messed up. Yet again.

Since her and Kelce started dating she had become more and more forgetful of their rule - always let each other know where you're staying the night. They had a few rules in their roomate agreement, this one being the most important one. Hell, she invented the rule herself. And yet, here she was, constantly breaking it.

She knew Stella wasn't really mad, but it still made her feel embarrased. How she let a guy distract her like that so often, she didn't understand.

"Yeah... Sorry." She let out a sheepish smile and Stella rolled her eyes, motioning her to join them at the table.

"While you were getting busy with your man, we have been in a crisis!" Lena's eyes widened, slightly concerned, slightly suspicious.

"Expand." Y/N's head met the table and let out a muffled groan. Lena looked at the girl in confusion.

"What happened??" Stella folded her hands, getting ready for a dramatic retelling. Y/N remained face planted on the table while Stella caught Lena up to the latest drama.

Many 'he did whats' and 'oh my god's' later, interrupted by both Stella's and Lena's laughter at the sandwich incident, Lena was finally in the know about the Rafe situation. And boy was she loving it.

"I fucking knew he was into you! I knew it-"

"Can you please not?" Y/N had gotten up from the table and planted herself on the couch mid-story, not wanting to deal with any of it so early in the morning. Or ever. Preferably she would deal with it never. She just wanted to go back to bed and sleep for several weeks. She was exhausted.

Lena and Stella gave eachother knowing looks but said nothing further about it. Instead they plopped down on the couch either side of her and Y/N knew the ordeal was far from over. They wouldn't let her keep ignoring it. Sometimes she hated having friends who knew her too well.

"So what are you gonna do?" This time it was Lena posing the dreaded question.

"I don't know." It was an honest answer. The only one she had. But she knew her friend would not be satisfied with it.

"Well what do you think?" Y/N closed her eyes, trying to mentally prepare for everything that was about to unfold.

"I don't know...." She sounded tired. And Stella felt a pang of hurt on her friend's behalf.

Lena, however was not going to accept that as an aswer. She was a doer, she always thought three moves ahead and prepared for everything. 'I don't know' was not in her vocabulary. Usually that was someting Y/N loved about her, but at this moment she resented it.

"Well lets figure it out." Lena started. "It is a good opportunity."

"I know that." Y/N begrudgingly admited.

"So what's holding you back?" Y/N looked at Lena as if she was stupid for posing the question. Lena was not bothered.

"Don't say it's cause you don't like him because I know that's not really the reason. You're pragmatic, you know this is a good chance to network. So I'll ask again. What's holding you back?"

While Lena was right about her being pragmatic, she just didn't understand how big of a factor her dislike for Rafe was in her dillema. Whereas Lena couldn't fathom why she'd let something silly like that get in the way of a good opportunity to make connections, she felt sick to her stomach at the thought. The mere idea of being on his arm while he flaunted her was making her flushed with anger. She knew she couldn't explain it to her friends though, so she didn't even try.

"I don't know. I just hate the idea of giving him what he wants and seeing his smug face-"

"You're getting something out of it too." Lena, annoyingly pointed out.

"Not as much as him." At Y/N's words, Lena finally grinned.

"There it is." Lena's words made Y/N look at her in confusion.

"What?"

"What's holding you back. You think its an unfair deal. He's getting more out of it than you are." Lena explained.

Y/N's brow furrowed in thought. Stella was quiet the entire time, knowing not to interrupt the two girls when they're debating something. She learned long ago it was a bad idea. It was best to let them figure it out and not get involved.

Y/N realized Lena was right. She was feeling resentment because she felt like she would be giving him a lot more than she'd be getting in return and it made her real mad.

"Yeah... I guess so." Lena nodded.

"Good."

"Good?" Y/N asked, exasperated.

"Yes, good. Now we know the problem. Now we can solve it." Lena said as if it was the simples thing in the world.

"Oh it's that simple?" Y/N's sarcasm was felt but ignored as Lena continued.

"So what do you want?" Y/N looked at her confused, again.

"What do I want?" She repeated.

"So what do you want that he can give you?" Lena asked again. Y/N frowned.

"Yes. He's getting the better end of the deal. So even the odds." She was explaining it as if it was obvious. Y/N didn't think so.

"I don't want anything from him."

"Don't be stubborn." Lena interrupted. "There's always something you can get from someone. It's just a matter of figuring out what you want."

"I don't want anything from him!" Y/N repeated, a bite in her voice.

"Now you're just being childish."

"Let's not get nasty." Stella finally piped up, seeing that this was not going in the right direction.

"How am I being childish?" Y/N bit out.

"You're letting your feelings cloud your judgement. Stop letting your dislike of him lead the converstation." Lena spoke evenly, making sure not to push Y/N further than she had. They could both be stubborn and they knew it. Lena didn't want to fight. She was just trying to help her friend. The problem was she wasn't always the best at showing it.

"Okay, lets take a step back." Stella interjected. Hands up in what she hoped was a calming gesture.

"I think what Lena is trying to say is that you might be holding yourself back from something that could benefit you because you're letting your feelings for Rafe get in the way of seeing the bigger picture."

"I don't have feelings for Rafe." She quipped back.

"You know what I meant, Peach." Stella's use of her nickname softened Y/N's features some. She was realizing Rafe was now causing her to fight with her friends. The thought infuriated her. No way.

Y/N sighed and closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. They were right. When it came to Rafe, he always managed to unhinge her and anger would lead her actions. But she was smarter than that. She wouldn't let him get in the way of her friendships. And she wasn't going to let him being a dick be the reason why she misses on a good opportunity. One that could do her a lot of good in the future.

That's when it hit her.

When she opened her eyes her friends were looking at her with bathed breaths, anxious for her next move.

"There is something." Lena smiled.

"But he'll never go for it." Y/N was doubting herself. It was crazy.

"Babe, he's in a position where he can't refuse you. He's got a lot to gain from this but he also has a hell of a lot more to lose if you say no." Lena reasoned.

"She's right. I'm pretty sure you could get a kindey out of him if you wanted to." Stella joked and the girls laughed.

"That's a bit much, Pumpkin." Stella beamed at her friends words.

"All we're saying is, he won't be able to refuse you. He's desperate. He needs you." Lena explained.

"Okay." The girls grinned, Stella jumping up in excitement.

"So what is it?!" Y/N smirked. Oh it was a good one and he was going to hate it so much. The thought made her giddy.

--------

It had been days since the sandwich shop. Since he poured all his shame out to her and asked her to help him. Since he embarrased himself thoroughly and put his fate in her hands.

It has been days of radio silence. He was getting antsier every second, feeling like he might crawl out of his skin in suspence. Truth was, he had no idea what was going to happen. She really didn't like him and she could refuse to help him so easily, leaving him the deep deep hole he dug for himself. She didn't owe him anything. He wasn't great to her in the past and he regreted it. Had regreted it for a long time. He tried making things up with her for months but she was so unreceptive to his efforts, and then she pushed his buttons and he'd lose himself all over again.

And now he was at her mercy. She could embarrass him by telling the whole world about what he had done. Or she could just ignore him, letting him stew in his misery. Leaving him stranded and giving his father the perfect opportuinity to cut him off for good. Disown him even. He was losing his mind.

It has been days and everyone around him could feel his sour mood. He was twitchy, easily irritable, incapable of focusing on anything and constantly fiddling with his phone. Constantly writing and deleting texts, to what they assumed was the same mystery person.

None of his friends knew what the hell was going on with him but none dared ask, knowing it would most likely end with him shutting them out further. He was moodier than usual, which they didn't think possible.

Kelce and Topper knew the only person who could ever affect him like that was his father. Or Y/N. Both in very different ways, of course, but in simmilar intensity.

His friends never knew what it was that him and Y/N had going on, never understood the odd relationship. They knew they'd get punched if they brought it up though, they learned it the hard way.

His father was a whole other story. They both knew, for the most part, how Ward Cameron treated his son. Having grown up with Rafe, they'd seen enough of their fraught dynamic to understand there were serious issues there. Their friend never confided in them fully though, preferring not to talk about his father at all. But every once in a while he'd get that glazed over look in his eyes, the dark cloud around him palpable. They knew then that something had happened involving his father.

This time was different though. He wasn't depressed, he wasn't angry from an argument with his dad. He also wasn't buzzing with nerves and excitement from a row with Y/N. It was unusal and unnerving and the entire appartment was enveloped in the odd energy.

So when Kelce had insisted he needed a night out Topper agreed. Kelce had demanded he needed to unwind and that after football practice he expected his two best friends to take him out for drinks and help him get his head straight. They agreed, Topper knowing Klece's plans had nothing to do with his own well being - and Rafe because Kelce rarely ever expressed that he was having issues, usually the most chill out of the group. It made him feel too guilty to reject him. Even though he'd rather do anything but go out tonight.

But there he was, waiting for Kelce to finish up his practice so they can go to the bar where he fully intended to excuse himself after an hour. The sun was just beginning to set as he fiddled with his phone in his hands, willing it to do something, snap him out of his misery. The orange and pinkish hues enveloped the sky as he heard someone approach him in the parking lot. He was leaning on his car as he looked behind him and nearly dropped his phone in shock.

There she was. She was standing right in front of him, the last rays of sun casting a halo around her. She took his breath away.

For a moment he stood there gaping at her, not quite able to process that she was actually here after days of no contact, after days of him wishing she'd call or text or even email him, give him anyhing to go by.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. He snapped out of his daze and took an unconscious step forward. She eyed him warily. He looked rough. As if he hadn't slept.

A sliver of guilt crossed through her but she quickly crushed that down. This whole situation is his fault and she had every right to take even more time, than just a few days, to get back to him. She reminded herself to keep her head in the game, to not get distracted.

"Hey." She spoke first.

"Hey." He sounded breathy, unsure.

"Can we talk?" He nodded, nervous to what she was there to say. He wasn't sure how she found him but guessed she probably talked to Lena. Lena would know he was waiting for Kelce.

"I've thought about your proposition." He gulped, bracing himself for the worst.

"Yeah?" He wished she would just rip off the band-aid and reject him instead of dragging it out.

"I've realized you'd be getting a lot more out of it than me -"

"What do you want?" He interrupted her, cringing inwardly at the sharp glare he was met with. But he couldn't wait another second.

"For future notice, I want you to not interrupt me again." He almost rolled his eyes, almost.

"Noted. What do you want?" He sounded nervous and she almost smiled. Almost.

She looked to he right, taking her time to apreciate his vehicle, letting him stew for a few more agonizing moments while he waited for her answer.

He looked at her, impatient, ready to jump out of his skin, shake her, fall to his knees, beg her to just say it.

Her eyes met his again and she smiled. It was a beautiful sight, but he quickly realized the smile was one of mischief. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. She glanced back at his car. Then back to him. Then back to the car. Then back to him. She gave him a pointed look, raising her eyebrows.

He looked on in confusion and she rolled her eyes at his ignorance.

"The car." She finally spoke. His heart was hammering in his chest from the suspense.

"Huh?"

She looked back at the car and he followed her eyes finally realizing what it was she was saying.

"No way." He spoke before he could even process his words. She nodded her head.

"Okay." She shrugged, swiflty turned around and started walking away. No look back, no explanation, no chance to barter. Panic rose in his chest.

"Wait!" She stopped in her tracks but didn't bother turning around. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour. This couldn't be what she was asking of him? Surely she wasn't that crazy? Surely she didn't expect him to give her his car.

His car. A black, 1967 Ford Mustang, complete with white stripes. A picture of sleek elegance and power, with the classic leather interior and and an upgraded motor, the rev of which caused goosebumps to rise on his skin every time he turned on the key. His pride and joy. The first thing he ever bought for himself. His father protested, of course he did. He would have preferred a more modern vehicle, something that showed status. Not an old muscle car. But Rafe was adamant and as soon as he turned eighteen and got access to his trust fund, he found Clarence and never looked back.

She was his most trusted companion, which is why it was hitting hard that Y/N wanted to take her from him. Couldn't she have picked anything else?

"You seriously want me to just give you my car?" His voice was incredulous. She turned around and calmly walked back to him, as if she had all the time in the world.

"Of course not. I'm not that cruel. Or crazy." She smirked while he looked at her in confusion. What was she getting at?

"I don't expect you to give it to me. Not forever anyway." He blinked at her, still confused.

"I want free use of your car for... In the name of fairness, let's say I'd get to keep it for as long as this charade lasts." His heart was slowing down some, glad she wasn't insisting on actually taking his car from him.

"So... when was it you told your family we were dating, again?" He gulped, redness on his neck and cheeks visible.

"Three months ago" he almost whispered. Her eye twitched but she forced herself to stay calm. The prick.

"And how long did you tell them we've been together?" He gupled again. This was more and more emabrrassing with every minute.

"Three months." She swallowed down her anger that was rising again at his bullshit.

"So let's say six months backlog... and however long this continues. That's how long I get to keep the car. That sound fair to you?"

He wanted to say no. To argue. To call her crazy and beg her to pick something, anything else. But by the look in her eyes he knew it would be pointless and only serve to further his embarrassement. She was determined. This is what she wants. And he has no choice but to give it to her. He has no fucking choice and she knows it.

"Fine. But-" she interrupts him before he can finish his sentence.

"Gas included." He nearly choked on his saliva at her words. She was pushing him to his limits. She wanted him to pay for her gas too, while she drove his car around flaunting it in his face. The redness on his face was now also from anger. She was enjoying this.

"Fine. Fine!" She smiled.

"But that's it!" He continued. "I agree to this and we have a deal? You'll do it? No second guessing, no going back on it. You'll do it?"

He was looking at her with such desparation it tugged at her heart. This really was important to him.

"Yeah. Yeah I'll do it." She nodded along with her words.

He felt like crying. It was as if a ton of weight was lifted off his shoulders. He was still upset about Clarence. Obviously he was. But mostly he was relieved and happy that he wouldn't have to be embarrassed in front of his family. That she was going to do it. She was going to help him. He wanted to hug her in thanks or yell at her for manipulating him. He wanted to pass out from all the stress - of the situation, of the past few days, of suspence.

"So when's this wedding?" She dreaded asking because if there's anything this situation had taught her is that Rafe always can and will piss her off more than she thought possible. Every single time.

He was nervous again. He sighed and Y/N knew she wasn't going to like the words that came out of his mouth.

"Two weeks." He finally said.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

----

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @r0und3bitch @lovelornanonymity @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @goldenjo @emeloyy @kanib45 @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @hey-sunrisee @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @bookaholics-stuff @zzzina7 @fangirlwithlou @namelesssav @rafesxgold @cmac-writes @malfoytargaryen @alinaharlow @mveggieburger @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @vifuckingp @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @whore-4-drewstarkey @palmwinemami @mew227 @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife

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auberge13 · 4 months ago

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These two moments are taken from the conversations Jon has with each of his parents before joining the Legion of Superheroes. There is one particularly interesting difference between how Lois and Clark each view the decision.

(Lois Lane 2019 issue #4 and Superman 2018 issue #16)

"doesn't leave you much of a choice, does it?" vs. "I am jealous of... the choices in front of you"

Now, if you're like me, this is the kind of thing that makes you very excited about characterization and storytelling so let's get into it.

Clark is a character who never really felt like being good was a choice that needed to be made. He was raised to be good by Ma and Pa and he is so inherently good that he can't imagine being anything else, let alone choosing to be anything else. Meanwhile, Lois intimately understands that being good is a choice that you have to make over and over again, even when it's hard. Doing good the way she does is constantly challenged, particularly by her father. Her choice to do good costs her that relationship with him, and she isn't able to fully reconcile with him before his death, which is explored intimately in this book (read Lois Lane).

As my friend @fae-morrigan put it while we were discussing this, "I feel you could easily read it in a way where Clark is jealous that Jon's been shown he could be Other Than Good and make an informed choice about Being Good. Where Lois knows that choosing to be good often comes at the expense of other good things (in her case, her relationship with her father)"

There's a key moment in the issue after the above screenshot that really showcases this.

(Lois Lane 2019 issue #5)

It's important to acknowledge that there is no part of Clark that would choose not to be Superman. They're the same guy. Clark would do good anyway in whatever capacity he could, he just happens to have a really large capacity. When he says he is jealous of the choices in front of Jon, it is less about doing or not doing good, but rather about how he's going to do it.

(Superman 2024 issue #1)

My friend @ultfreakme explained this really well. "comparing LOSH to college works like that because Jon's going to college (learning to be a hero), but he gets to pick from a million different majors and fuck around for a bit with a support system to fall back on if he fails. Clark went from high school (regular dude) and straight into a job (being a hero) with no ability to like....try something different."

So that's what we can learn about Lois and Clark from this, but what about Jon? The comics do a really cool thing where they break up Jon's complex thoughts about this choice into multiple conversations with different people. With Lois, Jon expresses the sense of obligation he feels. With Damian, he's able to share his hesitance, even telling him that he doesn't think he wants to accept the invitation at first. Finally, with Clark and Imra, he's able to feel his excitement about this new step in his life. It is all very college! I felt all of these things before I left too! But beyond that, this is also a great example of the way Jon will compartmentalize his issues and limit his vulnerability depending on who he's talking to. He has a tendency to minimize his own feelings in order to make other people more comfortable, which you can really see in the different things he's willing to express with each person.

Anyway, I think there's more to be said here and I'd love to hear what other people think about these moments, but I'll call it here. Moral of the story, read Lois Lane 2019 and then create something for the Jon Kent Week Mama's boy prompt- the Jon and Lois in that book are top tier. Also, if you've gotten this far you clearly like this kind of analysis so here's my post about why they aged up Jon. When I posted it Tumblr had put me in jail and turned me into a robot (wow Absolute Power is so immersive!) so it didn't show up in the tag. Sorry for the plug but I'm a little bitter about it lol.

#jon kent #clark kent #lois lane #superman #dc meta #jonology

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blitz0hno · 1 year ago

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Why I'm Voting Inno Mikoto even tho He Definitely Did It

or should I say DID i-*🏏smacked*

TL;DR like many I do not believe a word John says, but I also don't think he has the entire truth. Meanwhile Mikoto's amnesia is near undoubtable. With two unreliable narrators and solid evidence of self-defense, I think we need more before declaring him guilty.

I'm here to be Mikoto's lawyer cuz John ily but you suck at it 😭

Now onto why I'm voting Inno:

Mikoto isn't lying when he says he doesn't remember murdering those people, at least not entirely. The memory is in his subconscious, but he can't even remember the faces of his victims because they were both so out of it.

I believe what we see in MeMe is safe to assume to be his first. The first mannequin smashed onscreen is this one:

That looks like a damn FNAF jumpscare lmao this tells me that his baseball hobby probably saved him from getting jumped at that train station, but it came at a heavy price.

That's where John comes in. To handle the feelings that undoubtedly came with taking a life and having to hide the evidence.

Generally in DID alter's memories fall into one of 3 categories (my observations of myself and other systems):

That event happened. These are all the details. I feel nothing about it.

That event happened and I remember everything I felt like it was seconds ago, but I couldn't tell you specifics

That event happened??

The latter two can safely be assigned to John and Bokukoto. The first one is what we're missing.

I saw someone point out how the train could symbolize that he can never go back (credit urself in the tags if u see this it was a good one) to before he killed.

That brings me to our final scene.

Remember how John split to handle the feelings of that stressor? The feeling of unsafety, pure adrenaline, and righteous anger at the attacker is a horrific thing, but once you experience it you change. In order for an alter to handle the reality of something, it must be accepted somehow. John's way of accepting it is not remembering their faces, only his expressions and actions. That's probably why he's so aggressive; constant fight-or-flight mode.

Mikoto (Bokukoto), like with whatever happened to him in early childhood to cause DID, is unable to accept these realities because doing so would shatter his world (it turns out constant fight-or-flight isn't great for your social life).

So about John's statement that he didn't know any of the victims even though he totally did, at least a little;

John is reading the room and there it is: unsafety, pure adrenaline, and righteous anger at the attacker. That's all he needs to feel to know that it's time to protect Mikoto.

That's not the face and mannerisms of a man who bashes skulls in for kicks. This shit was personal.

I can't tell if it's one or two victims in the second clip here, but I strongly believe they had something to do with his work. His subconscious is really harping on how much his boss got on him and how stressed it made him. Something happened that pushed them over the edge. You don't call your mom after you kill for fun (or maybe you do idk). You call your mom when you know you're fucked.

John initiated the second killing but I don't think he was the only one making a conscious decision. That said, I don't have enough details to condemn Mikoto to another unforgiven verdict.

So, where will we find that info? Well remember RGB Mikoto/Trikoto theory (kudos to whoever coined those too)? Well when I broke down the compartmentalization earlier I hinted that there's a strong chance that SOMEONE remembers every detail, but feels nothing and lays dormant.

Good old green Mikoto, the only one we haven't seen speak yet the one who's given us the most detail so far (via MeMe).

Even if not and Bokukoto remembers more than he's letting on/gets in contact with John, the crime itself isn't unforgivable beyond a shadow of a doubt yet even with multiple victims. His reasons are still cloudy.

Also I like him

#milgram #mikoto milgram #mikoto kayano #mikotoposting #john milgram #TW Flashing #tw blo0d

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bookaddict24-7 · 2 months ago

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REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Every week I will post various reviews I've written so far in 2024. You can check out my Goodreads for more up-to-date reviews HERE. You can friend me on Goodreads here.

Have you read any of these? What were your thoughts?

___

281. Next to You by Hannah Bonam-Young--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I wanted to love this, BUT I'm sure I'll really enjoy book 1 and 3! I did like the love interest, he was a darn sweetheart.

I think what I didn't really care for in this book (and why my rating wasn't as high as I would have liked) was that I couldn't really connect with the MC and her decisions. But a three star isn't a bad rating, it is a "I enjoyed this but it could have gone better for me".

I really liked the mental health rep and how detrimental it can be when it has you in its grip. I think that was one of the things I loved most about this book. I liked that Bonam-Young didn't shy away from this aspect of the MC's life.

But the story itself, while having some very fun and cute moments, felt like it lacked something that would have fully grabbed me. I don't know if the pacing was off, or if the relationship felt a little too surface level--something about it held me back from fully loving it. I don't know if it was that the bus was fixed a little too much behind the scenes or too quickly, or that there was a third act break up.

The love interest was really sweet and I really liked him. I kind of wish we'd had a dual POV story, just to both make things feel more rounded and to get more bus-fixing scenes.

I am definitely going to pick up the other two books because I'm excited by their descriptions. I will say that I'm happy that I read this one first because it's only up from here!

___

282. The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm not a novel-in-verse girly, but I loved the hell out of this audiobook. This book was beautiful. Such a wonderful exploration of a young person learning who he is and who he wants to be.

I highly recommend listening to this as an audiobook because it flowed so well and was just a great experience!

Dean Atta has created a great character with a strong personality and relatability for readers of all ages, especially teens trying to figure out who they are. I connected with the MC over his mixed-raced upbringing and how society might view that part of him. We get to see him experiencing these moments of racism and identity-confusion.

I loved that Atta touched on the confusing feelings teenagers might experience when they are discovering who they are and how even though you're certain of one thing, your mind will always ask you to consider other ideas (like him knowing he is gay, but still contemplating potential romantic feelings for his female best friend.)

Another surprising aspect of this book that I was really enjoying was how the book spans over several years of the MC's life. We get to see him be completely confused about who he is until the last page where he is fully sure and finding that confidence he had always wanted when he was younger.

Overall, I highly recommend this. And if you're not a novel in verse person like me, listen to the audiobook! It's worth it!

___

283. The Girl in Question by Tess Sharpe--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I didn't even know this existed until last month. LOVED. Such a great sequel/finale!

When I saw that THE GIRL IN QUESTION was a sequel to a book I loved last year (or the year before?), I KNEW I wanted to read it. And from the very beginning, I was hooked--even if it took me a second to remember who each character was.

One of the things I immediately liked about this one was the setting. I don't know how many times I've mentioned it in past reviews, but I LOVE survival stories and Sharpe's newest novel is set in the woods! Immediately got me. And then from there, it was twist after twist. The characters were badasses in their attempts to survive and it was constant action. There were no slow moments.

I also liked that the story jumped from perspective to perspective because it made the novel feel more cinematic and rounded. It felt like I could see the whole thing taking form in my head. It especially helped when we started to get more background information about the one MC's past.

The ending was great and was a nice way of ending the story. I will be surprised if there is another one in this series, but I won't be angry with it.

If you love a good YA queer suspense novel, then I really think you should add the first book, THE GIRLS I'VE BEEN, to your TBR!

___

284. Swift & Saddled by Lyla Sage--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Lyla Sage's series is just such a sweet and pure fun time. I like that the series feels like a low-drama, low-stakes type of romance series and I'm 100% here for it.

SWIFT AND SADDLED was no exception to the cute romance factor that I'm really enjoying from this author. We get some fun chemistry between the two MCs and the build up of sexual tension. Loved the idea that she was the perfect fit for him, even though she just stopped by the town for her new job.

The MMC was a sweetheart who is used to putting everyone first, so it was nice seeing him get some character growth throughout the story.

One of the things I really enjoyed about this one too was that the characters had to work for their relationship. It might have been an insta-attraction story, but it took a bit before they both official fell for each other. We got to know them and the way they are together before anything truly sexual happened. Yes, the tension was there but I liked the boundaries set.

If you're looking for a romance that is just an easy and quick read, you might love this one. It's the kind of romance that will make you feel giddy and will keep you hoping that these two characters give in to their mutual attraction.

___

285. The Titan's Bride Vol. 4 by ITKZ--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Oh, loving the reveal of the major storyline that has been hinted since volume 1! I feel like the next volume is going to be more action filled!

There was some mystery in this and of course, some spicy times. But I like that we're getting more insight into the MC and his love interests' relationship and connection. I'm excited to see what comes next as the mystery unfolds because this volume left me on a cliffhanger.

___

286. Earthlings by Sayaka Murata--⭐️⭐️⭐️

What the hell did I just read?

I feel like this book was an interesting and deeply disturbing take on trauma and how it can cause some serious damage. While EARTHLINGS took things to an explosive conclusion, I think it's important to keep note on the traumatic experiences that acted as the base for the destruction of the MC's mental health.

This book is very much not for everyone. Hell, I kind of wish I hadn't read it. Massive trigger warning for readers who can't do books with SA, especially when the survivor is a child and the assault is descriptive. I remember having to pause the audiobook because it was so disturbing and horrific--more than the final acts of the book.

But it wasn't just the traumatic SA of the MC as a child, but it was the verbal and physical abuse from the family, the gaslighting from the sister, the trauma bonding with the cousin that led to an inappropriate relationship, and then the control that was put over the MC even as she gets older.

There is a moment in this book where the MC loses the taste of food in her mouth due to her abuse and the way she gains that sense of taste back was, admittedly, chef's kiss. It was in moments like that where I saw the author's genius. But the rest of the book was a study in "How much can be written to showcase how horrible this MC's childhood was?"

I want to read more by Murata and I probably will, but man, what a hell of a book to start with. EARTHLINGS is a study in trauma and holy hell is it traumatic. Please be incredibly wary before you start reading! Don't go in blind like I did, especially if you have triggers you try to avoid.

___

287. Sloppy Firsts by Megan McCafferty--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This felt like PRINCESS DIARIES if there was an abundance of swearing and sex positivity.

I wasn't sure what to expect from this book, but it wasn't a sassy teen girl who spoke her mind in such a refreshingly honest way. I wish I had read this as a teenager because I think I would have related a lot to this MC.

McCafferty touched on a lot of the things that teen girls might experience--like friends who might not really be friends, feeling left out even though you're still in the crowd, crushes, feeling the pressure from expectations from those around you (especially parental), having people assume they know who you are, and finally starting to accept yourself and who you are.

I was so surprised by the swearing and laughed my butt off at various points. I was so entertained by this book and how it didn't sugarcoat any of the realities of teenhood. This was a lot of fun and while I don't know if I'll be reading the rest of the series, I recommend SLOPPY FIRSTS (especially if you're a fan of the teenhood-ness of PRINCESS DIARIES)!

___

288. Business Casual by B.K. Borison--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

A story without miscommunication and the dreaded third act break up? YES. I was so happy by the time I finished this one! Best one in the series, 100%!

One of my issues that I've had with this series in the past was how the couples ALWAYS had a third act break up, usually led by the miscommunication trope. Every time I picked up one of the earlier books in this series, I did so warily because I knew there would be that break up trope waiting for me. So, of course, I went into BUSINESS CASUAL with that wariness but I was so surprised and I'm so happy that I actually gave this book a shot.

BUSINESS CASUAL was the kind of romance I've been wanting from this series. The couple have great communication, great character growth, a romance that builds up over time, and hilarious moments that had me giggling.

I liked that beyond the romance, there were also complex relationships that the FMC and the MMC had to navigate throughout the book. They each had their own internal battles and I liked that they tackled them alongside their growing romance. The expectations of being a younger sibling and the stresses of being the son of a man who is constantly belittling who you are as a person.

This was just such a breath of fresh air and I enjoyed the heck out of it. I wish I could live in a small town like this one!

___

Happy reading!

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otterlyfoolish · 10 months ago

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Eat Crow

(Zombieman x GN!Reader)

Warnings: Mentioned Human Experimentation, Animal Death, Abandonment, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Swearing, Blood & gore (come on this is ZM), self-harm (ZM does some reckless things), there's probably other things in here that I can't think of right now so if you're particularly sensitive maybe you should just avoid this,

Tags: Pining, borderline romance, strangers to friends, maybe lovers (in the future), Reader is starved for any kind of companionship, Unstoppable force & Immovable object, oneshot, angst, comfort (very barely), open-ended ending, so much build-up for a fucking oneshot, not edited so sorry

Word count: 11k

Summary:

Zombieman had what he thought was a simple case: "Find the source of the toxins in the assigned area."

One of his specialities is investigating contaminated or toxic areas - places that only robots or cyborgs could reach, areas where organic matter struggled to make it out alive. Other heroes would be dispatched to a monster infestation, and he would be sent to the local ghost town. This was fine to him - he would describe himself as more of an investigator than a hero anyways. So, in one way, this task was like no other.

In another way, he's never seen a case as peculiar as this. A product of human experimentation, just like him. He's never really had a case like this before. Curiously, they didn't seem to want to admit it. He can't blame them for their decision either - especially not after he found out some reasons why. And it's not like he could have found out the normal way - after all, what's considered poisonous to a dead man?

So, he couldn't quite complete his investigation - at that point, he couldn't really confirm or deny his suspicions. That is until he saw their touch wilt a crow's life within seconds.

...Well, the crow is already dead. You just have to eat it now.

-----

Ao3 Link here, if you prefer reading there!

A/N: I'm mostly writing this to ward off my impulses for the other idea I have for ZM - I can't start another multi chapter fic on him when I've not even finished the other one I'm writing right now... (TBH if I just dedicated my time writing this into that, I might have been able to finish it... Uhhh I just won't think about that)

I've kept this on the drafts so long, but now I've finally vomited it out (I ran it through a spell checker, not even edited) - I hope that it's coherent because I struggle editing so much, and I don't know if I have it in me to make it more articulate than it is... Uhhh story isn't fluid sorry (>>_>>)

But if I used the wrong pronouns for the Reader (anything that's not they/them) please feel free to point it out since it is supposed to be Gender-Neutral!

---

"QUARANTINED AREA AHEAD"

"TOXIC WASTE NEARBY"

"LEAVE NOW"

The danger signs were littered everywhere.

From the very moment he even came near the location - even miles away, he was warned not to approach. As he got closer, the signs and fences only increased in frequency. Just a few caution signs at first, illustrated by the humble exclamation mark. Then the potentially comedic skull and bones - pirates would be overjoyed at the sight of so many of them. And finally the unnerving biohazard symbol appears. He's never liked the look of it - maybe because he doesn't understand what it was actually supposed to be, or maybe it reminded him too much of Dr. Genus' lab - the same symbols were also hung up everywhere, the scientist liked to be organised after all.

The final hurdle was in sight now - a chain-linked fence with barbed wires that had rust collecting on the bright red sign that hung brazenly on the door.

"DANGER: YOUR LIFE IS AT RISK FROM THIS POINT FORWARD"

He nodded at the final warning as if letting the inanimate object know that he acknowledges the danger, then swung his axe against the metal lock, easily snapping it in half. Time must have also wore the lock down, helping the process of decay because it behaved far too flimsy.

If most people showed me as much concern as these signs did, then I would be out of a job.

He pushes on the door, the hinges on the door creak loudly as if it was doing a drum roll for his demise. As he walks through, he's careful to shut the door behind him and lock it with another one - the one he brought in preparation for this. As he does so, he notices that the key for it must have fallen out on the way over. It was his fault for not repairing the hole in his pocket after tearing it from his last brawl.

No way out now I guess...

He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and rubs the cherry on the back of his hand before he drops it on the floor, crushing it with his black boots. Just as quickly as the cigarette left his mouth, another replaces it, the lighter coming up as if joined together with the cigarette. The nicotine was too addicting, he didn't mind the lethal poison that accompanied the chemical potentially affecting his body.

He's been critiqued on his bad habits by a fellow hero before, the smoke was just flat out unhealthy to have near people, so he should stop.

(He puts it nicer than what was actually said - Tatsumaki had gathered the all of the smoke in the room with her powers and stuffed it back into his lungs, hissing out hostile remarks as she did so. The product of a particularly bad day. Apparently she couldn't find any monsters to kill, and that caused her foul mood. It doesn't help that he was probably the closest thing to a monster she found that day.)

Even so, Zombieman couldn't disagree with the comments made, and though he never stopped smoking, the thought always flashed in his mind for the briefest of moments.

But this time he lit it without any guilt of others. This was a completely isolated area, where the air was already considered toxic to all organic matter. What's the harm of adding a little bit more poison in the air?

He dragged a large cloud of smoke out from his lips as he exhaled, almost like a sigh of relief from the long journey. Almost drearily, his eyes followed the grey mist drift through the air before it quickly dissipated into the atmosphere, the very last remnants of it lingered in one spot before fully turning transparent. His red pupils slowly fixated on that spot as he spotted the building he was headed towards.

...Break over. Back to work.

His arm slung the axe over his shoulder, resting the weight of the metal head in the crook of his neck as he continued his descent to his destination. He walked with calm confidence, not fitting of a man that's entering a toxic waste zone, but that suited him.

The thrill of an investigation was too addicting, he didn't mind about the dangers that had been constantly waved in his direction.

Perhaps the danger even added to the thrill of it.

-----

"Toxic waste land...? Hm." He murmured to himself as the read over the file they sent him. The low clicking of the train wheels was just as faint as his voice as he spoke. Zombieman positioned himself to a quiet corner of the fairly empty train, the folder in front of him messily sprawled out, but in a fairly controlled manner.

He had requested it to be in paper format, call him old-fashioned, but he viewed the information to be more tangible that way. Besides, he often breaks the phone the Hero Association provides him anyways. Once Child Emperor had leaped at the opportunity to make him an 'unbreakable' phone after hearing the staff members talk about how this was the 'fourth one this week', it had a pretty good run, but he still lost it in the end.

...It makes him feel bad to bother the kid for another one, so he'll just do this until Isamu notices and chucks him another. He'll treat it more carefully this time, he didn't realise just how much shitter the one's he gets from the Hero Association is. Isamu really was a genius, but he didn't want to pressure him too much.

He flips through the information provided, it was choppy. The testimonies didn't seem clear, and there wasn't a lot found by HA. Well, a lack of information never stopped him. His red eyes scanned the pages, picking up what he deemed the most vital snippets of data and committed it to memory.

"...Laboratory...", "...Mithridate...", "...Antidote...", "...Pancea...", "Dozens died from poisoning", "...Scientists Evacuate...", "...Local Town Falls Sick From Mysterious Illness...", "...Abandoned Area...", "...No Organic matter found in the vicinity..."

He concluded after reading it, there used to be a remote laboratory out this far that was focusing on creating strong antidotes. But it seemed that they weren't able to control it effectively enough, and apparently some sort of sample hadn't been contained properly had caused many of the scientists to die from poisoning. It seems that even though they tried their best to clean the place and dispose of the source, there was still trace amounts lingering and many workers became sick. The entire building was forced to evacuate - and a few years later, apparently some of the people that had lived nearby had to be admitted to the larger general hospitals. It started happening too frequently without any obvious cause and people started moving away. Satellite scans showed that the grass around this place slowly started dying, and bird avoided migrating near the area all together.

All in all, an typical case for him. He predicts the following days to be somewhat laid back. His only objective was to find what was the source. The implication in that was that he didn't even have to get rid of it, only report back.

There was something bothering him though. Like when you feel your feet shift a little too much - you're nervous but you don't know why. Or when you felt a pair of eyes watching you, but you couldn't place who in the crowd of people would spend so much time on you.

Current suspicion: There was something more to this case.

They could simply send one of their many drones to check out the area, scope out if there's a leak that's causing the increase of toxins detected. But they sent him.

His first thought: They suspected there was a monster there, and wanted him to kill it.

He could do that, they often do when they're worried about a particularly dangerous monsters most heroes couldn't defeat without wearing it down massively. But they didn't say anything in the report - they kept it hidden from him. To feign ignorance of the missing piece of the puzzle before even asking him for assistance.

...But why?

He's never shown hesitation to brutalise monsters. It's written in his fucking Encyclopedia page - something Bang had showed him after his disciple had pointed it out to him, and the old man just had to pass on the message, chuckling at the descriptors. Something something about how gore and death followed him or something along those lines.

...Is it related to Dr. Genus?

He clenches the paper a little too tightly, crumpling the otherwise pristine pages. The Hero Assocication might have had an inkling to his past. He never talked about it much, but did they find out? He wouldn't put it pass them - staying private in this day and age was getting more and more difficult by the day even if it would do both parties good if they stayed in their own lane. If they did know about his days of being an experimental sample, why were they assigning him to this case?

...Was this their way of turning their cheek the other way? By letting him confront his own past alone?

"...Sir?" He hears the train conductor walk over to him, nervously eyeing him up as the scowl on his face grows deeper at the thought of meeting the Doctor again. "This is the last stop." He hears as he snaps out of his thoughts, tilting his head up to look at the lady.

"...Thanks."

"...Are you sure about getting off here? There's nothing for a few dozen miles..."

"I'm sure. Thank you." He said, picking up the axe he had placed on the wooden floorboards, but didn't raise it above his head to rest on his shoulder like usual. Instead, he kept the metal head close to the ground, the blade pointed towards him and never her. He didn't want to alarm the lady.

"No, it's fine... I've not seen someone get off at this stop for perhaps a couple years now... It's nice to see people still come here in this little corner of the world - you know there's a forest a hour or so west from here? Beautiful place, you should check it out." She rambled on, the smile on her face causing the corners of her eyes to wrinkle. "Used to go there when I was young, took this same train out. I'm just a little too old for that now."

He nodded politely at her, taking note of the sun spots speckled on her skin. "...You're still younger than me, so there's no need to talk like that."

Besides, it's a privilege to be able to age. I'm sick of looking at the same damned thing everyday.

"Oh, aren't you a charmer..." She laughed, slowly escorting him down over to the train doors. He trotted after her, his boots made a small sound with each step he took. "Don't forget, the next time this train will be here is at eight tonight. Don't be late or you'll have to spend the night camping." She said, only getting a simple nod from him before the doors closed on her.

...A forest? I guess the toxins or whatever hasn't spread that far yet then...

As he walked away, he raised his axe back up and slammed it back on his shoulder, resting it there. Something of an reminder that he's on duty.

He's grown used to the weight of the axe.

-----

The building is fairly large - almost industrial. He could see it as a speck in the distance, but as he approached, he see that it's size wasn't anything much to be scoffed at. Definitely not at big at the ones he's seen at HA, but still, impressive.

As he approached the laboratory, he could see a... Fully-clad yellow figure running full speed at him.

Like second nature, he pulled out the guns from his sleeves and swung his axe back down to his midsection, his palms tightly gripping the weapons. It couldn't be a civilian - they would be fatally ill at this point from being this close to the site.

His blood-coloured eyes scanned the person (or perhaps monster) sprinting up at him. At closer inspection, he could tell that it was a human wearing a hazmat suit.

...Zombieman slowly retracted his desert eagle back into his trench coat and the axe also returned to its last position. There didn't seem like there was an danger yet, more so someone he needs to interrogate.

...Maybe there's still some people working here without anyone knowing?

They were... waving at him? He raised his thin eyebrow at them, shifting over to a more relaxed stance than before. He waited for them to approach - and as this mysterious figure got closer, he could hear muffled shouting from them as their hand waving in the air got more frantic. He noted that in their other hand, there was a blue gas mask.

He debated snuffing out his cigarette, but kept it in his mouth. It's not like they would be affected judging by the protection they're already wearing.

By the time they were close enough to him so that he could hear their words, it didn't matter since they were huffing out their lungs trying to breath in as much air as they could. Sprinting must have been hard - the hazard suit and heavy boots didn't help do them any favours either.

"...Are you alright?" He asked, staring down at him as they doubled over. The sound of their heavy breathing was clear even through the thick suit.

Regardless of their exhausted state, they sluggishly yanked him down to their level and slapped the spare gas mask onto his face. "...uckING STUPID!"

The impact of the plastic against his face caused him to glare at them with squinted eyes as he took the mask. He didn't bother dodging it - it's not like the action was malicious anyways. The force of which the firm plastic wasn't painful enough for him to make a noise, but he still grunted from the shock of their actions. "...What'd you say?"

They didn't respond, seeming satisfied with the fact he taken the respirator from them already and just crumpled back over on their form. He gave them a moment to gather their breath. "...Don't you know that this is a toxic area...? What the hell are you doing without any equipment...?"

He crouches down to their level, seeing as they were still catching their breath and he couldn't quite hear between their suit and the small distance. "I don't need it. What are you doing here?"

They tilted their head over to him, seeing that he had taken the blue mask off and just hung it around his neck by the strap. "...I live here."

Live? Not work?

"...Then don't you know that this is a toxic area?" He parroted the question back to them, trying to look into their eyes, or face, only to see that the glass they see out of is a reflective surface. Only his red eyes locked on with his own. His

"The inside of my house is safe, when I go out I wear this." There's something about the way in which they said it which made him think that they had rolled their eyes at him as they spoke.

"House?" He brushed off their attitude quickly, he didn't really care about it to begin with anyways, "what house?"

"Why would I tell a stranger where I live?" They snapped back, getting back up on their feet. Zombieman quickly followed suit. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"I'm a Hero. I've been sent here to find the source of the poison in this area." As if on cue, their head tilted at him in disbelief. He goes on to answer further, hoping it would dispel any more of their suspicion. "...You can call me Zombieman."

He could tell even without any facial expressions to help him nothing he said was convincing. "...Alright, 'Hero Zombieman'... If you've been sent here to investigate, then why didn't they send you off with any equipment with you? We both know that this isn't the safest place to be."

A reasonable question, he supposes. He just hopes that the answer he gives them is just as logical in their eyes. "I can't die - hence my name."

"...Can't die?" They repeated slowly, taking a few steps back from him. He could see the distrust in their body language, and he wanted to fill the gap quickly - they probably had a lot of information on this area he didn't. "...Don't lie to me, everything dies."

He nodded at them, trying to indicate that he acknowledges their suspicion then pulled his gun back out. They're not given much time to react to it, as the muzzle was pointed at his temple, his finger on the trigger. "I'll prove it."

Just as he pulled the trigger ever so slightly, he notices in that split second they've close the distance between them instantly. Their hands shooting out to tear the weapon out of his hands-

Only for him to tilt it ever so slightly upwards from its original position in surprise - instead of the bullet going through his skull at a straight line, it was just angled slightly differently, shooting through the top of his skull.

They froze up at the sight - the pink of the bone and the pink of his brains, the smell of blood was thick and metallic. They could smell it even through their suit, and nothing about their protection could block the sight of his hand. Limp. In your grasp.

Zombieman examined at them from the corner of his eyes, feeling that their hands was trembling slightly through the thick gloves they wore. It was from either the sight of his skull being blown open or the fact they thought he was now dead.

...I wanted to close the gap between us, but not physically...

"...Proof enough?" He asks, moving his head to face them. They practically leaped back, even in the chunky boots and protective gear they were wearing, they found themselves a couple feet even further than before.

...Was that too much?

No, I only shot myself. That's nothing.

...Am I too numb to gore compared to the average person?

"...Yeah. Yeah. I believe you." They say, their voice shaking as they watched the hole slowly fill itself back up again. First the grey matter in the brain, then the pink plating of the skull, and finally his pale skin and dark hair. It was as if nothing had ever happened - the only proof that they had was the dark streaks of blood that ran down his temple and the small splatters of flesh that had ended up on them. They did their best to quickly compose themselves."...So... Uhm... Do- do you need anything...?"

He nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt at their reaction. Yeah, it was too much to witness. Next time, he'll just cut his hand off or something. "Could you get me into that laboratory? I want to inspect it to see if I can find anything inside."

"...I can do that, follow me." They agreed, probably still in shock and stiffly placed one foot in front of the other, their hands having the same nature of movement - almost mechanically.

He was quiet for a minute, looking around the building. He wanted to ask more questions about them, but he had a feeling he needed to build back some sort of foundation of trust again if he wanted any good answers. Short, snippy ones aren't bad, but more detail is better this time.

"...What's your name?" He starts off simple.

They slowly moved their head over in his direction, stopping in their tracks. He briefly thinks for a moment that asking for that was too soon, but when he hears your name slowly uttered from your lips the thought is gone. He could sense the uncertainty of his character coming off in waves, but you still chose to tell him.

He nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"...And I don't think I'll be able to forget yours." He could hear you mumble faintly as you took long strides over to the entrance door. "Mr. 'Can't die'..."

...I don't mind if you were able to find a way to change that name of mine.

He didn't correct your words, and accepted his newfound alias. "How come you have access to the lab?"

It took you a while to respond, at first he just thought you didn't hear him or maybe you were busy fiddling with the keypad on the door, but it seems that you were considering telling him or not.

...Zombieman lowered his axe, resting it at his side. He may still be on duty, and it's not even the weapon he used to shoot himself, but it's not like he needed it this very moment. And if it helped soothe your worries even a little, then it will have been worth it.

When you get the door open, you turn back around to face him. He still can't see your eyes, but he could feel yours staring at him - cautiously inspecting him and his intentions before opening the door. "...This is where I live." You answered him.

...Huh, it worked.

He hummed appreciatively through his cigarette, reaching up and holding the door open for you. You paused your movements for a moment and nodded back, "...Thanks."

"No problem." He replied back, then followed after you, shutting the door after himself. When he walks in, he realises that the entrance is double sealed - one door after another to ensure that as little toxic gas leaves or enters. "So, you live in a lab...?" He says, practically repeating already known information in the hopes you'll slip out a little more data for him to piece together.

"Mhm. There's lab equipment everywhere." You say, though not intentional, your tone was pretty dismissive. It makes him wonder if he should play the long game or the short game.

He sticks to the former - besides, if he's really pressed up for time for whatever reasons, he can resort to more... forceful methods.

You open the other door, pressing even more buttons on the security system before beckoning him to follow through, holding the door open for him. "Quick - if you're there for too long, the doors will automatically shut and won't open without a special password."

"Oh." He nodded, the sounds of his boots increasing before the heavy door clicked securely shut. The two of you were now locked in together - he wonders if you're more anxious than him about the situation. One hand hand, he could be locked in with a mad scientist and be subjected to experimentation once again. On the other hand, he was a man that doesn't exactly have any indication of sane mental health paired with the fact he has a fair variety of weapons on his person ready to go any moment.

...They should be more scared than me.

"Do you work here?" He asks, trying to place down the foundations of trust.

"Yeah...?" You say, your thick gloves grabbing the other and pulling them off. "I'm... something of a researcher. Or something along those lines." The way you said it could be viewed as avoidant, or simply distracted - judging by the way your now exposed hands was fiddling with the hazard suit, taking it off and throwing them into a large plastic container off to the side of the door. Presumably to be disinfected and reused. "I've just been told to stay here until the toxins reach an acceptable level. Then I'm free to leave."

He narrowed his eyes at you, taking mental notes on your choice of words and actions. It was entirely unconscious behaviour, akin to second nature - Zombieman was already crafting a mental corkboard of everything he knew about this place and you. You took the final piece off, your large headpiece, finally revealing your face to him.

His eyes fixated on you, his red irises re-examined your figure, taking new mental notes to add to his corkboard. His eyes found their way following a sweat drop that traced the side of your face, a small trail of liquid trailed down your facial features before the head of it became too small to follow anymore. He briefly wondered it that sweat was a shade or two darker than it was supposed to be, but concluded that it was just the lighting of the room. "...Hot in that thing, huh?"

"...Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I'm not really used to it..." You say, not noticing him observing you.

...Not used to the hazmat suit, I don't recognise them from the list of scientists provided, and they're uncertain about their role.

Current thoughts: You've turned out more suspicious than he thought.

-----

Nervously, your eyes kept glancing over to him, drinking in every detail of him that you could with each glance. At first, you thought it was the glass of your suit playing tricks on your vision when you spotted his red eyes, but even when you took your headpiece off and looked over him again, they were still red.

Blood red, to be more specific, especially now that you had a very, very recent reminder of the colour of blood.

His skin was almost porcelain white, but there was something of a grey undertone to it. His hair was a ink black and his getup didn't have a single drop of colour - the only thing you could even perhaps suggest that had a hue was the buckles of his (many) belts strung tightly against his chest. Everything combined, this monochrome sense of fashion contrasted with his striking red eyes and dark eye bags made it incredibly easy for you to focus on his face. Basically a sinkhole of attention.

Zombieman... From that name, you'd expect more decay, but...

...He's handsome. You concluded, as you kept finding your eyes shifting over to him as you showed him about the place. But he's also scary. Why would he shoot himself to prove a point...?

"Are you gonna show me around...?" He asked after what must have been you staring a little too long at him.

"Sorry." You say, turning your head away from him. Despite looking at him so carefully, you couldn't pick up on his mild discomfort. You try to remedy the situation, giving a honest reason to your actions should suffice, right? "...I was just thinking that you're very visually appealing."

The answer seems to shock him, or at the very least, throw him off his feet a little. His eyes widened at your response before he tilting his face slightly to his right clearing his throat into the sleeve of his trench coat. His left hand seemed to tighten his grip around his axe. "...Thank you."

You think that you shouldn't have said that - was he uncomfortable? You don't really have much of a chance to interact with people, and it's leaves you wondering your next move.

...Should I apologise? What did I do wrong? Is there such thing as too honest?

On quick glance back up at him, tells you that if he did feel uncomfortable by you, he's recovered. He's leaning against the plain white walls with his axe by his side. You note the fact he still hasn't raised it back onto his shoulder - whatever the reason for this, it somewhat made you feel more relaxed.

"...Uh, I'll take you around the first floor first...? It's mostly just like laboratory equipment, but it might help you?" You say, trying to gauge his reaction.

He simply nodded, and as you took your first step, so did he. You glanced back to see that he was a step or two closer behind you than before as you walked down the large white hallways.

...I hope that he leaves soon.

Just before you stepped through into another set of doors, there was a few equipment littered on the walls of the lab. Coats, gloves, masks. Though, you've used and ruined most of them at this point.

Please, please, leave.

You watched him place down the gas mask you had given him earlier alongside the other ones lined up on the wall for anyone to take. The others were faulty at this point, the one he put back down was one of the only ones that still functioned at this point.

It's not safe here, even for you.

-----

"...That thing..." You say, gesturing to him, your index finger waved over his face a couple times. "...smells terrible. Do you need it or something?"

He raised one eyebrow at you, wondering if his breath smelt for a moment before realising what you were saying. "...My cigarette?" He asked, taking it out of his mouth, bringing it a little closer to you to confirm your request. Your lips tightened and your eyebrows narrowed at the distance decreasing. So it is. "I suppose that I don't need it."

"Yeah, that... cigarette." You say, slowly rolling the word out on your tongue as you took a step back. "If you don't need it, can you get rid of it? There's vents all over the place, but I'm worried that smell will linger if you keep using it."

"...Sure, do you have an ash tray or something of that kind?" He asked, rubbing the lit part of the cigarette over the back of his hand. The burning sensation felt like it was shorter each time - the initial burn from the very first time he put out his smoke was almost exciting to feel. Now, it feels like pointless rebellion.

You looked at him, blinking. It took you a second to respond to him, trying to think of what would be suitable. Your eyes glanced around the room, landing on the shelf of conical flasks, before the blanket hung up on the wall that's placed there in case of a fire emergency.

...He thinks he likes the way your features scrunched up as you rapidly skimmed through all of the available items. You looked like you were in in deep thought over something rather minor - maybe he likes the way you took him so seriously, or was it the way you were so confident you could find a replacement within the confines of the room within seconds?

It didn't take you too long to find something. "...There's sand bins. Will that do?"

"Mhm." He nodded, and you walked over to the bucket filled with sand - presumably, it was to put out fires, but it could also be repurposed for a more crude use. Your hands wrapped around the bucket's handle, planning to bring it over to him, but he simply just followed after you and smothered the cherry into the sand. There was no chance of it catching fire now.

You nodded at him, then pointed at another table with glass equipment on top, giving a rather detail explanation to him as you picked up different parts - he was barely listening, his mind quickly filing away this odd morsel of information about you as he got back to his actual work.

...Have they never seen a cigarette before?

I mean, public smoking places are less and less common nowadays, but still...

He thought your behaviour was strange, but it'd be rude to point out. He let you continue guiding him around the lab. Besides, if you felt comfortable enough to tell him to stop smoking, then you must be somewhat amicable towards giving him more intel.

-----

The two of you finish the tour of the first floor, and you glanced over to the clock on the wall. "...I'm gonna head off to lunch. You can join if you want." You say, walking away from him and into another room. He peered in - seems like a break room for staff. He debated joining you, or wandering off on his own to investigate.

The former wins as he argues that he could just wander about later. It didn't seem like you were rushing about to get him to leave quickly anyways. If anything, he'd say you enjoyed the company judging by how he often caught you waiting for him to catch up when he spotted something of interest. Or when you stared at him intently when he spoke, taking his questions to heart.

...Or it could be for another reason. Tons of people flocked to Amai Mask for one big reason, Zombieman just... never suspected he'd be on the receiving end of the same kind of attention.

...'Visually appealing.' What is that supposed to mean?

As he enters the break room, he spots you waiting patiently by the microwave. There's a rather large pile of delivery boxes collected in the corner of the room. Perhaps one would feel shame at a 'guest' of sorts seeing the mess, but you didn't seem to care much. Upon noticing him, you opened the microwave door and added another packet of food.

I guess I'm eating too now.

He stands next to you, pretending to also wait for lunch, but in reality he just stared at you from the corner of his eyes. It doesn't take you long to return the action, your pupils also shifting over to his direction.

The two of you share eye contact until you turn away and go back to staring at the packets of food spinning around in the microwave. He lets out something of a cough, then goes to check his phone, (It's not like the could just whip out the files he had brought with him right in front of you anyways), maybe you were on the lists of scientists, and he just doesn't remember you that well.

Your eyes are casted away from your lunch, catching the glimpse of movement in the corner of your eyes. "...Whoa, you have a real nice phone..."

He tilts his head up at you, then turns the screen off before giving his device a quick spin for you to see if you wanted. You nodded at this, as if you were some sort of phone collector inspecting the goods before buying.

"No," he shakes his head, giving it a closer inspection as he spun it despite already giving it a verdict. "It can't even withstand falling off a skyscraper."

"...I don't think that's a good way to measure it." You say, a ghost of a smile on your lips. "Here." You fiddled with your pockets, before pulling out what he thinks is a brick at first as you carelessly held it out to him. "Here's one I found a couple years ago. Under my Dad's desk."

"...Maybe I do have a nice phone." He says, staring down at the device as you let out a small laugh out at him.

The phone was pretty old.

The equipment in the lab also looks quite old, but I don't know enough about it to know if it's actually old, or if it's just old compared to Isamu's hoard of equipment.

It seems like you had enough money to deliver food to yourself, but not enough to fund your research. You probably aren't being paid.

Probably because you aren't a real researcher.

But his conclusion just brings more questions than answers - why would you stay out here if you aren't getting paid well? You've been tasked with staying here until the toxins have subsided, but why would you do that? Money clearly wasn't the reason - maybe it was something more personal. His eyes meandered across the room until it landed.

Maybe it was your Dad.

"...Say, your dad worked here too?" He asks, slowly reaching out to take the phone from you, feigning fake interest in the device in your hands. His cold fingers brushed against your skin making your breath hitch - practically throwing the phone away from yourself.

He caught it before it collided against the surface of the table, but he wasn't even looking at the phone anymore as his eyes shifted over to you, examining your body language quickly to figure out what caused that reaction from you.

You held one hand in the other, your eyes fixated on him, one foot back and holding your breath as if you were waiting for one of you to drop on the floor. The two of you shared a look, the room sinking into a tense quietness. Just as he was about to speak, apologise, anything that felt right to say, you babbled something to dispel the tension.

"O-Oh! Yeah!" You exclaimed, slowly taking your footing back to it's original position. He didn't care so much about the answer anymore after your reaction but still, he listened. "My mother did too. Uh, both of them worked together. H-here."

"Huh..." He nodded, accepting the fact the two of you will skip past that moment. He felt his hand tingle from where your skin touched it - it was almost the same sensation as the one he used to get when pressing the lit part of the cigarette against his skin. Burning, hot. Maybe painful to a normal person but an fleetingly exciting moment to him. "And then you started working here too?"

"...Uh, yeah. Been here for a long time." You say, the words slow to come out. Your eyes drifted away from him and your hand slowly reached back over to the phone he had caught and placed on the table before retracting it back into your pockets. "Actually, I've been here... for a really long time."

He nodded, "how long?"

You didn't answer him at first, only tilted your face over to his direction. You looked... lost. Like you weren't sure what you were doing, or what's even going on. A sense of distant confusion with a vague or faraway goal. "I... don't know."

He frowned. You didn't seem like you were bad-intentioned, but you also seemed like a vital part of this mystery. "How come?"

You pursed your lips, turning away from him again before the microwave went off. The beeps echoed through the silence of the lunch room.

"...Lunch is ready." You say, opening the door of it. "You don't have any allergies do you?"

"No, but even if I did," he made some sort of general motion towards himself. You made a 'Ohh' sound. Some colour returned to your face that he didn't quite realise had left it.

...They don't know? How is that possible?

Also, their parents worked here, and now they do as well. They're most likely staying here not out of choice - are they trapped here? Threatened to stay? Guilt? You couldn't pay most people to stay in such a dangerous area.

"I've just been told to stay here until the toxins reach an acceptable level. Then I'm free to leave."

...What kind of messed up family business is this?

Zombieman could only see the rabbit hole grow deeper the longer he looked in - yet he'll jump head first anyways. He was never much for self preservation.

That same trait comes the thought: if he touches your hand again will it burn the same thrilling way?

-----

After you showed him around the whole lab, he concluded that there was nothing there was still working - and even if there was, it wasn't anything large-scale enough to cause such a large waste area. In fact, the only experiment he saw was you spitting into a test tube and then running it through a machine. Something to do with how it can detect what kinds of chemicals are inside it.

But that machine was clearly broken since he recognised many of the listed items inside to be toxic. You had explained that you had fixed it up after finding it in the storage room, but since that room wasn't well maintained, there was a chance that the toxic air was just stuck inside it now. At least, that's the conclusion you came to, and he didn't see a reason to deny it.

Apart from that, it was mostly you just explaining what each room was and the equipment inside. The tour was over quicker than he thought - but there truly wasn't anything noteworthy. The past researchers had taken all of the papers with them, so he couldn't snoop around to see if there was any information he was missing. It didn't seem like you were trying to hide anything either. You've always seemed like you were honest - perhaps a little apprehensive, but most of that was mostly because, well, he was a stranger in your home.

"That's all... I think I'll get going to bed soon, do you need anything or..."

"No, that's all." He said. "I think I'll get going."

"...At this time?" You ask, seeing him walk out to the door, trying to open it. His hands pressed randomly against the wall's buttons. Quickly, you walked over to him. "Are you going home?"

"I've missed the train, so I can't really go back, but I've been given a recommendation to visit a forest." He says, watching you as you brushed his hands aside to help him open the sealed doors. It burned like before, "I think I'll go check it out," he thinks he wants to feel it again."...Then I'll probably come back with a fresh mind."

"...Seriously?" You asked, pulling the door open for him. "You're gonna spend the nights in the woods?"

"Well, it takes a while to walk over. By the time I get there, it might be sunrise." He says, walking through the first set of doors. Your eyes nervously switched between him and the door, unsure if he was really going to walk back out into the toxic wasteland. "Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow. Or if I find the source of the poison, this will be the last you'll be seeing me."

"...Yeah. That's... fine." You nodded, now trotting over to him, hand hovering over the keypad to let him out. The inner set of doors shut tightly behind you, a slight hissing sound as the air was compressed in the room, ensuring that none of the toxins got in as the vents whirred faster in anticipation. "Here, I'll let you go."

He paused, looking over at you. "Don't you need your hazmat suit?"

Your index finger stopped over one of the buttons as you started pressing the password to get out. "...No, it'll be fine. My parents said that I have a higher immunity to this sort of stuff anyways."

"...Okay, if you say so." He nodded, accepting your words. Every rotting bone in his body was screaming that there was something off about the way you said it, but his heart didn't utter a single peep in protest. He wonders if you're hiding the truth from him judging from his physical reaction to your words.

You nodded back at him, your eyes flicking back up at his for one more time before the door opens, a small gust of wind blew his hair back a little as the heavy entrance opened itself - exposing the two of you to the chilly evening air. "...It's nice meeting you." You say, your words as distant as you could muster with your almost wistful expression.

"...You too." He nodded simply, taking a step out, his boots landing on the dirt footing outside. He paused then turned his head back, speaking again as if he couldn't leave without finishing his all of his thoughts. "Real pleasure to meet you."

You blinked at him repeatedly, taken aback. There was... a slight smile on his face? You weren't given a chance to respond back before the doors let out loud 'beeps' rapidly and the doors slammed down.

He turned back around, taking a couple steps forwards as he languidly pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. His eyes casted over the cherry of the cigarette, watching it catch a flame as he took in a deep, slow breath, inhaling as much of the smoke he could. Impatient, he'd usually call himself for trying so hard to get the taste of the poison as quick as he did just moments after lighting it. It's just getting him more hooked on the nictotine (if he could be anymore addicted), it'll kill him faster (if he could die). But this time he won't fault himself even with all the negatives.

Smoking won't help relieve this... feeling, but it won't make it worse either, he supposes.

His boots forcefully move his body forward as he let out a low grumble.

Move. He urges himself. This is ridiculous. I barely know them.

"Wait!" He heard from behind him, and he found his head turning around without his input. "...I have some sort of car in the lab. Do... you want me to drive you to the forest...?" You ask, holding something of a car key attached to the lanyard around your neck, jangling the sliver object.

...Zombieman knows that it's not the first time you smoke you become addicted. It's the second time.

"Yeah, that's be great." He responses, the cigarette practically falling out of his mouth as he spoke, but he barely cared, only catching it in his hands and crushing it in his palm. It burned - but he barely felt it.

He didn't know that infatuation worked in a similar way to chemical addiction.

-----

You drove him over to the forest, his voice quietly murmuring out the directions for you to drive him. He had made some sort of comment on the car being a off-road vehicle, but you didn't fully get what he was trying to say.

The interior of the car was cold, the heater was very slowly warming it's way up. He insisted that it didn't bother him, but even so, you tried cranking that bloody thing up all the way. There's not much fuel in the car to begin with, but you didn't mind using it on him. It's not like you were going to be driving again.

"Keep going straight, try to avoid that rock if you can." He says, his hand motioning towards the obstacle on the ground.

"O-okay..." You nodded, trying your best to keep the car steady. There was practically sweat dripping down your arms from your nervousness. "Like this...?"

"Mhm." He nodded, "do you not drive often?" He asked, noting your anxious features that was crawling it's way up your face.

"No, uh, can- can you tell...?" You say, pressing the accelerator a little harder, making the car go faster.

"Well, we've been either going 20 or quadruple that. You've not really decided on a constant speed to drive at." He said, pointing a finger at the speedometer. "Also, I've been the one controlling the stick shift since you keep putting it in the wrong one."

"...Ah."

"I think you don't even know how to drive, but I don't really mind." He says, leaning his arm out the window as he blew out another cloud of smoke out of the vehicle. "You got the air bags, so you'll be fine even if we crash."

"...Maybe I'm just a really bad driver." You mutter, feeling your face grow hot even in the cold breeze that came in through the window.

"It's not a maybe." He says, turning back to you, "but it doesn't matter. I appreciate your help. I'll teach you how to drive for real after we get to the forest."

You raised an eyebrow at him, "You can drive?"

"...Eh." He makes a non-committal sound until you shot him a questioning glance, making him answer you properly. "...I don't have a valid licence, but I can drive."

"...So you're just as qualified as me?" You laughed, "or perhaps just as unqualified as me?"

"No, I've passed before. It's just that I've not driven in so long I don't know if I pass the current standards." He answers, maybe a little quickly as you chuckle at his explanation, not exactly buying his answer. "I should still be valid to drive."

"What are you, a old man?" You laughed, the car slowing down as your foot released the pedal, your mind too distracted by what he just said to properly process both things at once. "How could your licence just expire?"

"I had a licence before I was used for human experimentation and I've not had the time to try to renew it." He answers causally, taking in another breath of the smoke before breathing it back out. "I think."

You almost completely stopped the car before turning your head back over to him. "...Huh?"

He turns back to you, staring back into your eyes as your face grew pale at his words, unsure of what to say in response to him. "It's not a secret. I just don't talk about it."

"...Oh." You nodded, then took your hands off the wheel and your foot off as well. "...Is that why you can't die?"

"...Yeah." He nodded, then blew out one last cloud of smoke before he rubbed the light out on his skin again. There wasn't a moment of hesitation between his actions and words - he's too used to the pain he inflicts on himself. The slightest pink tinge on his skin from the burn is gone within less than a second.

The car let out a splutter, filling in the silence that took place in the car. Then stopped dead in it's tracks. "...Uh oh." You glanced down at the screen in front of you, trying to see what went wrong. "...I think we're out of fuel."

"...Mhm. Yeah." He agreed, glancing over to you. "It's fine, we're mostly there anyways." He says, nodding his head forward as he indicated towards your destination.

Your eyes casted over to the view in front of you - you didn't even realise until he pointed it out, but the two of you reached the forest he was guiding you to earlier.

It was dark, the bark of the trees was jet black against the faint light that shone down on the trees. You could barely see past them to see their fellow family. You've never seen them before in person - it was much larger than you had expected. The air smelt... clean.

Even so, it doesn't keep your attention for long as you looked back over to the man next to you. His pale skin contrasted strongly against the darkness outside, his red eyes shifted over to you, and you could pick up on the slight tinge of metal from the dried blood from earlier.

He didn't look human. He didn't have the warm undertones of blood running underneath people's skins. His response to pain was too lukewarm. He had no reaction to being in such grave danger. 'Zombieman' fit him.

"...Shall we go?" He offers, clicking open the car door for him to leave. "You can stay if you want."

"...No, I'll join you."

But he was still far, far more human than you were.

-----

The two of you wandered out into the woods. You flicked your flashlight on while he bravely moved forward in the dark, unafraid of any possible dangers that would be lurking in the woods.

"...Are you looking for something in particular?" You asked, your eyes flicking back over to him as you carefully shined down towards the ground to see where you were placing your heavy-duty boots.

"No." He replied back, still moving like a man on a mission. "The train conductor said that I should drop by here if I had time. I have time."

"...Do you think you'll find your source of poison?" You asked, your voice wavering towards the end, almost backpedalling last second in the hopes he didn't hear you.

He tilted his head backwards, glancing back towards you when you asked. "...I think it's from your home. I just don't know how yet."

*...How honest.

Well, I suppose that he doesn't really have anything to be afraid of anything he can't die. There's not much reason for him to lie.

"...I see." You nodded, your palms feeling slightly clammy after his answer.

...I wonder if he opened up about his past in the hopes that I'd also be more honest with him.

He continued to stride ahead, not taking any particular detours, walking in a straight line forward as he dragged his axe across the ground. It was still low to the ground.

...I hope not. Because I think it's working.

Then, you heard a branch snap off in the distance. You froze up instantly, your feet stuck on the dirt as your head swung over in the direction of the noise as you tried to find the source.

Finally, Zombieman stopped walking, standing still as he tilted his head in the same direction as the sound, the two of you almost perfect mirrors of each other.

"...We have company." He says, as he takes a step over to the sound, swinging his axe upwards to lean rest on his shoulder as he began to stroll over. You think you heard the metallic 'click' of his gun as well. "Let's give them a proper hello."

You flicked your head back and forth, from him to off in the distance of where the car was. Even if your vehicle couldn't move and was useless, you'd still rather go and hide in there over wherever the hell he was waddling off to. "C-Can we not...? If I die, I die."

He didn't acknowledge you maybe he didn't hear, only pressing on and got further and further away from even as the flashlight didn't reach that far ahead. You flipped a coin in your head to decide your choice to join him or leave. You mentally cursed yourself. Repeatedly.

...I guess I'm going too...

Even your feet protested against your brain's decision, but you ignored it and willed them to go on.

It didn't take long for him to stop in front of a bush, looking down at the source of the sound. You think that he's already taken care of the problem before you step past the shrub blocking your vision to see what he was looking at.

"...That's a crow...?" You murmured, your eyes fixed on the bird struggling to get off the ground - there was a sense of pure curiosity even at the sight of the animal in pain. "It's... small."

Zombieman barely paid attention to your words - it wasn't that he didn't find them interesting, it's just that he want to focus his efforts on something else right now.

"Mhm, it might be young." He nodded as he stepped out from behind the shrub. The bird started letting out sounds - perhaps to try to warn the man to step back, but he continues forward. "I think the wing is broken." he explains, pointing to the broken branch next to the animal with his axe. "I guess it hit the tree pretty hard and this is the result."

"Oh," you watched him crouch down to the bird, gently picking it up. It squawked louder as he picked it up to inspect it. "...So, do we help it?"

"...I don't know if we can." He replies back, picking it up with both hands, leaning the head of the axe in between his head and his shoulder as if he was taking a phone call with it. "...Have you ever taken care of a bird before?"

"...I've barely even seen a bird before, I'll be honest." You say, the works almost slipping out without you thinking much of it. He flicked his eyes over to you questioningly but didn't verbalise his thoughts. He was still intent on playing the long game.

"I guess we can take it back to the car for now." He says, his fingers clutching onto the torso of the bird firmly as he tried to support it's wing. Do you have any equipment in the car?"

"Maybe...? There's stuff in the back, we could try helping it." You say, nodding along with him as he began to walk back out the woods, you walking in front to guide him out with the only source of light between the two of you. "...Being a hero must be hard work." You mutter under your breath, your eyes flicking back to him practically cradling the animal in his arms as he steadily supported it to prevent it from hurting itself anymore. It's stopped crying at this point. "You even have to tend to the needs of even animals."

"Nothing worth doing is easy." He responses, picking up on your quiet words, his boots unshakeable even as he stepped on multiple uneven tree roots. "...Besides, this isn't my usual work. I investigate dangerous areas or suspects. My information isn't useful without someone to put it to good use. Helping others is inherently heroic. What I do isn't." He says, almost putting himself down as he spoke even if he didn't intent to. His tone was blunt and factual - he wasn't looking for reassurance.

"...Someone has to be the tester. Any important situation needs one." You say, your words sounding almost rehearsed as you spoke. Like you've heard it many times before. "...You fill a role no one else can."

He shifted his attention away from the crow, his head lifted up to look at you as you spoke. You didn't turn your head around though, only faced forward. He couldn't see what kind of expression was on your face.

-----

You opened the car door for him, letting him gently lower the bird onto the passenger seat of the car. The warm air that was somewhat there from the car heater was no longer in the vehicle, now it also reached the temperature of the cold air around you. Neither of you minded, but you still couldn't help the goosebumps crawling up your arms as a strong gust came every so often.

"Go watch it, I'll go check the back of the car." Zombieman said, resting the animal down before he swiftly walked away to open the boot of the car.

"O-Okay..." You nodded, briefly watching him move away from you two before you looked back down to the bird.

It had black ruffled feathers, and bright dark eyes. Eyes that seemed to stare deep into your inner being. It let out another echoing caw as it tried to fly again, getting up on it's feet. You quickly stepped forward, trying to discourage it's escape with your body. You hoped that you didn't actually have to touch it.

It stared up at you, then cried loudly. Clearly something of a battle cry as it then tried to fly - but was only able to hop forward.

You let out a fumbling cry of shock, your eyes seeing it fall off the car in slow motion. You had to catch it- You aren't wearing gloves- You can't touch it-

You have to catch it-

Your body moved on auto-pilot as your hands shot forward to catch it from falling to the dirt floor. Your brain knew, it fucking knew what would happen if you touched it, yet it still commanded it to move forward due to whatever fucking human nature you had left.

It's feathers grazed against the skin of your hands. Your body froze. It was warm. It was warm to touch even in the cold weather cooling the both of you down.

"Good catch," you heard distantly. You felt like you were submerged in a pool of ice water - you struggled to hear whatever was around you. Your eyes were frozen in place. Your body didn't listen to you. "Here, I found a first aid kit in the back."

You didn't process his words. You only watched the lively bird stumble on it's footing as you caught it. It blinked at you with something you'd call indignant anger. It would be right to be angry at you in a moment.

"You can put it down now," Zombieman said, clicking open the clasps on the box and pulled out some bandages. "We need to support it's wing with something strong." He carried on, unravelling the white gauze.

When he saw that you didn't listen to him, he reclarified for you. Maybe you didn't know what to get. "A straight strong stick should do. Go find one."

You still didn't move, and he finally looked up. He stared at you questioningly, not quite understanding the guilt ridden expression on your face until he looked down at your hands.

The black feathered bird was flopped over on your hands, it's eyes closed. It slumped over on it's wings and feet in a strange way. It's beak was open wide, trying to get something out that was never really there.

"...I think..." You say, your head turned over to face him, but he didn't really think you were looking at him. "I think your investigation is over."

...The crow was getting colder.

-----

"...I'm kinda like you." You started, sitting down in the car with dirt in stuck in your fingernails. You insisted on burying the crow before you explained everything. It was a request he easily granted - you had dug into the soft soil with your bare hands and covered the corpse with the same hands that killed it. "I'm... also like this because of human experimentation."

"...Go on." He said, nodding along.

"The lab, I'm sure you already know this, but they wanted to create antidotes. Something that would cure any poison. They obviously experimented on animals, but in the final stages, they wanted to test on a human subject. It was almost to fruition I think. And... My parents brought me in. I grew up in the lab." You sighed. "I wonder if they're even my real parents... What if..." You trailed off, the suspicions had clearly been weighing in your head for a long time. "...Never mind. That doesn't matter anymore. Anyways, one of the vials they gave me apparently wasn't the correct one. I started absorbing the poison in my body, almost like a storage box. No one realised at first."

"...Something happened, huh?" He said, picking up on your choice of words.

"...Yeah, they gave me some particularly strong poison or something to test out how my body would respond to the antidote they prepared. They didn't anticipate that I'd be able to absorb it alongside with the antidote." You let out something of a dry laugh. "That... was the last time I ever touched my mother. They cleared me to leave and I went up to her to say hi. She... collapsed on the ground, convulsing seconds later. After that, no one approached me without hazmat suits again. They quickly stopped working, after something else happened and they fled. My father was the last to go."

"...And that's when he gave you the instruction to stay until the level of toxins were acceptable?" He asked for confirmation. To which you nodded at him.

...Seeing everything fall into place has never felt so unsatisfying to him before.

He gave you a measured nod, his eyes never leaving the sight of your hunched over figure. "...So he sends you money to keep you somewhat alive?"

"...I don't know if he knows if I'm still alive." You shook your head. "Hell, I don't know if he's still alive himself. It's been... years. I only have the bank transactions from him as m only form as contact. I... still don't know if I killed my mother or if she's recovering somewhere."

He let out a quiet curse under his breath, leaning his arm against the window as you continued speaking.

They lived like this for years. Years.

"...I know what that place is, Zombieman." You say, your nails pressing tight against your skin, digging in. "I didn't want to admit it."

"...A prison?" He tried guessing when you didn't speak for a while, only to be met with a humourless laugh.

"Coffin. It's a coffin for me. I was born into a live burial - I'll live and die there." You say, your voice completely monotone. It was like a reporter going about the facts of the day. "The furthest place I've been from here. This... forest. And just by going once, I ruined the place. I can't just... leave. This was already a mistake."

He listened to you, watching the way you clutched yourself for some sort of support. He stayed quiet, examining your features carefully. Nothing on his corkboard prepared him for this - but perhaps his own personal experience of being on the other side could help.

He slowly forms the thoughts in his head - there wasn't much he could remember when he first left the lab he had escaped from, but he tried his best to gather what he could. What would have comforted him best? Well, probably the death of Dr Genus.

It was just a tad too slow - you had began speaking again.

"...When are you going to end me?"

He turned his head over to you, too quickly. "What?"

"You found the source of the poison." You say, leaning over to him from your seat. His breath hitched as you got closer. "You've known for a while, haven't you? So when are you going to do it? In my sleep? With a gun? Or an axe?"

It probably doesn't help, but at the mention of his weapons his eyes find their way over to their positions. "...I'm not going to murder you." He says, but didn't get up. He let you look down at him from where you were - it was probably the little bit of power you still had over him in your eyes. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I made that crow die." You state, your retort coming back far too fast. "You saw me. One touch from me killed it. It was barely even a few seconds."

"...That doesn't warrant the death penalty." He sighs. "Nothing you've done deserves punishment of any kind, it's not your fault. None of it."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression on your face, he struggled to place what you were feeling at the moment despite it being the most vital time for him to be able to. "...I have a question," you say, almost reluctant to interrupt him. "If there was something that could only cause harm, why keep it?"

He doesn't given himself much time to think of his answer, knowing that the longer he took the more insincere he would sound to you. "I know many people who's only speciality is violence." He starts out, leaning a little closer to you as you took a step back from him, giving him more space. "...We call them heroes. Or monsters, depending on their intentions."

"...Are you one of these people?" You ask, your words feeling heavier than he expected for such a short question.

"I'd say so." He responded, his voice flat as he continued speaking. "...But a lot of people suspect me as a monster too. "

"...You're more than that." You said, tilting your head at him with scornful befuddlement. You looked upset, but not at him.

"Aren't you the same?" He mirrored the simple question to you.

There's silence from you, until he hears a small sniffle and you bring up one hand to wipe at your eyes. He's frozen solid for a second until he reaches over to a box of tissues nearby and offered it to you.

"No..." You shook your head. "No thanks, my tears will just melt it... Tried it, trust me..."

"...Yeah, that's what tissues tend to do in liquid long enough." He cracked the dry joke, trying to lighten your mood and still offering the box to you, just slightly further away.

"...No, they're..." You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a shaky sigh as you forced yourself to bite back the tears. "My tears are corrosive. Highly corrosive."

"...Huh." He said, putting the box aside and stood up. "Would you like my coat instead?"

"...Why on Earth would I want that?" You say, the last of the tears running down your face as you stopped wiping it with your hands.

"...It's work clothes, I can get these replaced for basically free. It's cheaper than those tissues." He shrugged, trying to make another attempt to cheer you up seeing that you had stopped at this point. They were more stressed tears than anything, so your crying wouldn't have lasted long anyways.

You blinked at him before letting out a laugh, "no, no... It's okay... I don't want to accidentally hurt you. I'm fine now anyways."

"Mhm." He nodded, watching you sit back down on your seat. "...You know, I have a really, really smart colleague. He might be able to help you leave if you want."

"...Really?"

"He's the smartest person I know. And I've been kicking around for a while." He states a chuckle on his lips as he spoke. The only other person he could think of being close to Child Emperor was Dr Genus. There wasn't a chance in hell he'd let him anywhere near you.

"...Do you think he'd be willing to help?" You ask, the lilt of your voice going up a little higher, a sense of hopefulness leaking into your tone. "Or wait, would he be safe? I don't want to hurt him by accident..."

He nodded at your concerns as you spoke. "I've seen him analyse venomous monsters during the heat of battle and create antibodies on the fly. I think there's a strong chance."

"...Wow, he sounds really smart. Is he a hero like you?"

"Yes," he nodded, something you'd describe as pride adorned his features. "He's more of a hero than me, though. I could learn a lot from him."

"...I think you're far more of one than you think you are."

He's silent, staring back into your eyes. It takes the both of you a moment before either speaks. His voice breaks the silence gently, his words slow and purposeful as he spoke.

"...I think we should get going soon. We need to catch that train."

#zombieman #zombieman x reader #one punch man #opm x reader #OtterlyFoolishWritings #someone who can't die + someone that kills everyone they touch = love story #or at least a potentially funny dynamic imo #tbh i feel like I could write a (short) multi-chapter fic off this idea but I Probably Won't because I have issues with Time Management #other running thoughts are that I wanted to write more about MC's past #I feel like they could be very fun to write and then delve into with ZM as he gets to work sniffing shit out #But I wanted to keep the “”vibe“” of mystery even if you knew all the plot twists from the summary before hand #x reader

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shallowseeker · 2 months ago

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I think it is being right so often that devastates Dean the most, if you think about it.

It makes being wrong hurt so, so, so much more. (No one's going to be right all the time, after all!)

Like Cas's being brought back by God provided fuel for Cas's sense of hubris, Dean's consistent ability to read people, identify their motivations, and make judgment calls is what grounds him.

It's when he makes a wrong move that triggers every one of his downward spirals. In season 9, he says, on making decisions that "He's so sick of making the wrong one."

DEAN: Hell, maybe I still don't. But, uh... I know I took a piece of you in the process, and for that...[DEAN struggles to say the right thing. He finally just vents] Somebody changed the playbook, man, you know? It's like what -- what -- what's right is wrong and what's wrong is more wrong, and... I just know that when... When we rode together... [He pauses, looking for the right words.]

(9x12)

Dean's life has rendered making wrong decisions incredibly painful. Almost intolerable. (Especially since so many of his decisions have been so high-stakes!)

///

Then in later seasons... it gets worse.

First, there was "choking in the fight against AU Michael" in s14

(14x09)

And then s14-15 hits even harder. It's a painful, emotionally devastating setup that results in Dean trusting Chuck and going whole-hog on the whole "God says so" thing.

It's the opposite of everything Dean's ever stood for:

(14x20)

///

Then he spins straight into denial, oscillating between that and anger.

(15x01)

///

And when Belphegor arrives, he pitches into bargaining, too, experiences multiple phases of grief simultaneously. (It's in the script only, but a close reading shows that the next few episodes underline that THIS is the deal with keeping Bel around.)

(15x01)

///

This gives Dean perhaps his heaviest dose of Nihilism yet, effectively rendering him as s4 Cas, "I don't know if you passed or failed here," with Dean saying, "He doesn't know what's God, what isn't."

In Golden Times, Dean is described as "fatalistic."

(15x05)

(15x06)

Yeah. I'm always thinking of s15 Dean being so untethered that he reads very as a parallel with early seasons Cas!

I can't find the line in the scripts, but I know one of them in s15 references Dean feeling like his "life work is a hoax."

///

Dean and Cas have spent large parts of their respective lives being either Right or Righteous(TM), especially considering Castiel's incredibly long military history.

Yet in season 10, Cas says this:

CASTIEL: Yes, well, um… Before, I was very self-assured. I was convinced I was on this righteous path. Now I realize that there is no righteous path. It’s just people trying to do their best in a world where it’s far too easy to do your worst.

(10x04)

It's about trying to reconcile your own righteousness with the world, with where you are going to centralize the locus of your morality (i.e. family) in a world whose food chain spirals down so hard that following it will drive you mad if you're not careful!

The theme of righteousness becomes a poughkeepsie word as early as 4x07:

SAM: I just… I mean, I thought they’d be righteous. DEAN: Well, they are righteous, I mean, that’s kinda the problem. Of course there’s nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he’s on a holy mission.

That is where Dean fins himself in s15, I think. Grappling with what he will choose.

We see how he's grappling with it in s15, but he by no means really recovers in s15 (this is why we need ONE more season):

DEAN: Trust me, uh, bigger doesn't always equal better. Besides, who's gonna look out after the little guy? God certainly isn't.

LEE: You don't, Dean? I am you. I'm just you that woke up and saw that the world was broken. DEAN: Then you fix it. You don't walk away. You fight for it.

The funny thing is that Lee echoes a of "I am you's" that AU Michael does. Like characters before him Cain ("you're like me, Dean") and (Crowley "see what what I see, feel what I feel") and Chuck ("the ultimate killer"), Lee is trying to pigeon-hole Dean into being who he thinks he is, something nihilistic and inhumane.

LEE: Ohh. All right. I'll be damned. Why do you care so much, Dean? DEAN: Because someone has to.

(15x07)

Dean fights back against these roles. He fights for his own heart, for his sense of CARING about the little guy.

Maybe it's not about being righteous but letting go of the idea of righteousness.

#dean stuff #dean cassandra #here's to being right #spn 15x05 #spn 15x01 #spn 15x06 #cas and dean parallels #the weight of making decisions #spn 9x12

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tanenigiri · 1 year ago

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*punches through wall* OUR DINING TABLE

(Thoughts and ramblings on episodes 8 and 9 under the cut. Some manga comparisons but I don't think any of them constitute as plot spoilers since there's one episode left, but if you plan on reading the manga and don't want the differences from the show to be spoiled, fair warning.)

The corresponding chapter of Episode 8 in the manga is actually where we find out all about Minoru's backstory. We see a good chunk of it here in the flashback in the cafe, when he and Tane first cross paths with Yutaka. But most of the other things we've seen about Minoru's past up to this point in the show - that scene with Nao where Tane spills a drink on her, that flashback scene with young Tane which looks like it just happened right after their mom's funeral, and the general sense of Minoru bearing the weight of being a second parent to Tane - all of that comes to head in this chapter of the manga. I know I've said it repeatedly over my previous posts, but I really have to say it again because it deserves the praise - Minoru's plot arc was handled so, so well in this show, and I genuinely think all the decisions they made to spread and flesh it out was to its benefit.

There were already a lot of other posts last week that pointed it out but I still wanna highlight it - the silence that pervades this episode was really effective in conveying the conflict Yutaka and Minoru were facing. Giving them all this space to think about it could be dragging for some, but I found it quite necessary for what they were dealing with. This show has always used the quiet moments effectively and I think this episode isn't an exception.

I also wanted to highlight how that whole idea of "things being the same" is important to both Yutaka and Minoru. Before the events of Episode 1, Yutaka was living a very monotonous routine, down to the meals he was feeding himself. And Minoru's life has been nothing but one massive change after the other, so I don't blame him in wanting to find something that he could keep from changing. But, of course, both of them know that what happened between them isn't static, and that the change is something they either have to accept or have to let go of.

Gotta dedicate a bullet point to Ohata, who finally got her one manga-canonical scene in this episode (Hozumi-kun you're so easy to read!), but really her character has quickly become my favorite addition to the series. She's a much-needed confidant for Yutaka in the same way the dad (and his manager at the ramen shop) is for Minoru, and these past two episodes also bring up the fact that she was having relationship troubles with her boyfriend. I guess I can point out how her own issues seemed a little too convenient in terms of giving the right advice to Yutaka to move the plot along, but I honestly don't mind it - partly because I think those conversations also serve to show how far Yutaka's come in terms of breaking out of his shell and partly because I always cheer whenever her character shows up haha. (And can we talk about how she's constantly the best-dressed character of the show? Like I know she doesn't really have much competition but still?? Did you guys see her hair in that last scene???)

Speaking of which, I'm so glad they added that last scene with Yutaka joining his officemates for drinks. This was only mentioned in the manga, but I think this is as big of a deal as the confession in terms of Yutaka's growth. This is the same character who, in Episode 1 (which was only a few months prior to this), was known by the office as someone who would turn down any invite, and the manga even goes further with this in that they wouldn't invite him at all because they know that he would just reject them. Not to mention that the literal first thing we find out about Yutaka is how he doesn't share meals with anyone! Seeing him in the bar with his coworkers is absolutely massive in terms of how much Yutaka has changed, and while Ohata is right in teasing him that it's because of a special someone, I do think it's a testament to how much progress Yutaka has made over the course of the show both because of Minoru and because of his personal growth.

And since I mentioned it, I'm pretty happy with how they translated that playground confession scene into the show. In particular I enjoyed how generally awkward it was because it was very in-character, and I think giving the scene a more laid back vibe instead of a serious one was a really good decision. That whole "you're very important to me" spiel destroyed me though.

It's only recently I realized that the whole "BL male lead running to other BL male lead" is an actual trope that's seen in almost every series and I find that so funny. I've only watched a few before this and they do all have running involved.

Screaming at Mr. Ueda literally dragging his son out of the house and telling him to get it together before the New Year rings in. We don't really get a lot of scenes between the two of them so I'm glad we got this.

Tane-kun takes a bit of a backseat in these two episodes as the plot shifts to Yutaka and Minoru's relationship (the same thing happens in the manga), but the scenes he does get are still really good. In particular I like that once he realizes that Minoru and Yutaka are "fighting," all Tane says is that Minoru should apologize because, for him, Yutaka would always understand and accept their apology.

Ok so I'm of two minds about that scene with Yuuki (Yutaka's adoptive brother), which I was pretty surprised to see as it wasn't in the manga. On one hand, I'm glad that we do get some sort of closure for this, and that at the end of the day, Yutaka does have an adoptive family that cares for him. But on the other hand, I really don't think that the apology was anywhere close to undoing the damage that Yutaka's had to bear all these years? Like, I get that it's a misunderstanding on both ends and that proper communication would've solved it (and this is, in fact, the takeaway Yutaka needed for his confession to Minoru), but I'm not a fan of the implication that just because Yuuki was apparently not that much of a jerk to Yutaka as we thought that he's forgiven for his clearly traumatizing actions? I don't think they're gonna address this further in next week's episode (though I'd love to be wrong), but I dunno - it's not the note I would've liked that plot point to be left on. Sure, put some forgiveness in there, but I guess I wanted either party to acknowledge that while Yutaka could start mending his relationship with his adoptive family, there's still a lot of damage that they need to process? I know that's a pretty big ask for what is essentially a minor plot point, but eh. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it (and on the show in general).

The preview gave me a glimpse of the one other scene in the manga that's in my Top 3 (up there with Yutaka's cartoonified backstory and Minoru taking care of a sick Yutaka) and I am soooo ready to break down because of it. For manga readers who want to know which one: It's the scene without Minoru.

Love this show so much. I don't want it to end and I'm both anticipating and dreading the finale next week.

#our dining table #bokura no shokutaku

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mizusswordtip · 5 months ago

Text

Down The Rabbit Hole ⚝ Killian Jones x Reader (7)

find the story on wattpad

summary: Alice's plan to overthrow the Queen of Hearts is thwarted by a dashing pirate with a hook. Years later, after the curse is broken, they reunite once again.

masterlist

wc: 1,901

Wonderland: Past

I stand up, overwhelmed with emotion but mostly anger. Anger that Cora would wipe my memories away from me like they belonged to her. Angry that it took this long for me to return, knowing the suffering that was taking place while I've been gone.

I turn slowly, facing the White Queen's armor when I realize I've already come to a decision. I'm going to kill The Queen of Hearts.

Killians point of view

"The Jabberwocky?" I ask with an incredulous laugh. "For one woman?" Cora shoots me an amused smile before approaching me.

"That's just a small part of my plan my dear, I have a far more lethal weapon to deal with Alice." She says, giving me a pointed look.

I don't know why but a feeling of dread fills me. "And what would that be?" I ask, trying to sound blase.

"Why love of course."

Storybrooke: Present

Jefferson shoves Emma into a room with shelves filled with identical hats.

"I don't know what you think you're doing but if you hurt my friend, I swear I'll make you regret it." She spits out.

"Hurt her? I'm saving her life." Jefferson replies back, walking towards her, causing her to back away.

"How do you figure that?" She asks, trying to mask the fear in her voice.

"Don't play stupid. We both know what happens when people try to leave Storybrooke." He says, still approaching her.

"What are you talking about?" She asks, genuinely confused.

"The curse."

"What curse?" Emma asks him, still confused.

"The one keeping us all trapped. All except you." He answers slowly, as though he's talking to a child.

Realization dawns on her. "Have you been reading Henry's book?" She asks quietly.

"Henry? You mean the Queen's father?" He asks, confused himself now.

"Henry, the mayor's adopted kid." She answers, exasperated.

"Oh, Henry. Your Henry. And his book of stories, the ones you choose to ignore." He says with a malicious grin. "Maybe if you knew what I know, you wouldn't." He says matter of factly.

"Why have you been spying on me?" She asks, changing the subject to something far less... crazy.

"Because for the last 28 years, I've been stuck in this house. Day after day. Always the same." He says, staring off in space, remembering. "Until one night, you and your little yellow bug roll into town and the clock ticks and then things start to change." He says, coming out of his dissociation, pointing the gun he has at her halfheartedly. "You see, I know what you refuse to acknowledge Emma. You're special. You brought something precious to Storybrooke. Magic." He whispers reverently.

Emma gives him a look of pity. "You're insane." She says in response to his long monologue.

Jefferson laughs a humorless laugh, tears forming in his eyes. "Why? Because I speak the truth?"

"Because you're talking about magic." She responds with pleading eyes, trying to get him to understand, knowing it will never work.

"I'm talking about what I've seen. Perhaps you're the one that's mad." He replies, walking over to where she stands on the other side of the table.

"Really?"

"What's crazier than seeing and not believing? Because that's exactly what you've been doing since you got to our little hamlet. Open your eyes...look around...wake up. Isn't it about time?" He shoots back, getting into her personal space with a threatening look.

"What do you want?" She finally asks.

"I want you to get it to work." A tear falls down his cheek before pushing her down in the chair before a hat.

Wonderland: Past

The White Queens armor fits me like a glove and I'm shocked at how light it feels but I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, considering it was made for someone who's not a soldier. With the Vorpal sword in hand and a shield, I go to start my trek up the path where Jefferson had gone but the ground suddenly shakes.

Not so far off in the distance, I hear a great roar, a roar that makes me think of a memory from my previous time in Wonderland. The memory of that dragon creature chasing me... I believe Jefferson had referred it as the Jabberwocky.

Ice fills my veins as I see it, flying over the horizon, right towards me. I take a deep breath and remember something my father taught me. The key to any weapon is focus. I hold my sword, ready to do the impossible and kill this creature.

Storybrooke: Present

Jefferson brings Emma a piece of cloth for the hat. "Make one like that." He orders, pointing to the finished hat.

"You want me to make a hat? You don't have enough?" She asks sarcastically.

"Well, none of them work, do they? Or else you wouldn't be here." Jefferson leans over the table and stares at her. "Now make a hat and get it to work." He sits down, prepared to wait, just like he had for 28 years.

"I don't-"

"You have magic. You can do it." He interrupts encouragingly. Emma looks around, realization dawning on her as she puts the pieces together.

"The hats, the tea... you're psychotic behavior. You think you're the Mad Hatter." She says, disbelief written on her face.

"My name's Jefferson." He says, unamused.

"Okay, you've clearly glommed onto my kid Henry's thing." She puts down the cloth and scissors. "They're just stories. The Mad Hatter is in Alice in Wonderland. A book. A book I actually read!" She says, trying to get through to him.

"Stories." He breathes out with a humorless smile. "Stories? What's a story?" He asks rhetorically. "When you were in high school, did you learn about the Civil War?"

"Yeah, of course."

"How? Did you read about it, perchance, in a book?" He asks rhetorically once again. "How is that any less real than any other book?"

"History books are based on history." She says slowly, exasperated with the whole situation at this point.

"And story books are based on what? Imagination? Where does that come from? It has to come from somewhere."He explains, but continues talking, not giving her a chance to respond. "You know what the issue is with this world? Everyone wants a magical solution to their problem, but no one is willing to believe in magic." He points the gun at her. "Now get it to work."

"Here's the thing Jefferson." She says, slapping her hands down on the table. "This is it. This is the real world."

"A real world." He clarifies before standing with both hands on the table, getting close to her. "How arrogant are you to think yours is the only one? There are infinite more. You have to open your mind. They touch one another, pressing in a long line of lands, each just as real as the last. All have their own rules. Some have magic, some don't. And some need magic." He rants, voice filled with conviction. He stands and points the scissors at her threateningly. "Like this one. And that's where you come in. You and your friend are not leaving here until you make my hat. Until you get it to work." He places them down in front of her.

"And then what?" She asks knowingly.

"And then I go home."

Wonderland: Past

The Jabberwocky lands, causing the ground to shake and begins to clamber towards me at a speed I wasn't prepared for. I try to think of as many as six impossible things before breakfast. My fathers voice rings in my ears once more and I nod to myself in reassurance.

"Six impossible things. Count them Alice." I say to myself as I approach the beast, my heart beating rapidly. I ignore it, knowing that if I focus too much on my fear, I may as well die. The Jabberwocky is now only a yard away from me and let's out another ferocious roar.

"One, There's a talking rabbit who can tell time." I say, my voice a little shaky but I continue walking. I am now only feet away from the Jabberwocky, which for some reason, hasn't attacked me yet.

"Two, There's a potion that can make you shrink." My voice comes out a little more steady this time but my confidence quickly vanishes when the beast speaks.

"So, my old foe, we meet on the battlefield once again." His voice a deep baritone which I can feel it's vibrations in my chest. It flicks it's serpent like tongue out at me.

"We've never fought." I say, brows furrowed.

"Not you, insignificant girl." He snaps at me with another flicker of his tongue. Anger flares inside of me at his insult. "My ancient enemy, the Vorpal one." He explains, leaning his head down menacingly.

"That's enough chatter." I say before bringing the sword down on his tongue. It lands with a plop at my feet as he cries out in pain, knocking me down with a flick of his tail.

I lay on the ground, fear replaced with adrenaline. "Three, there's a cat who can disappear." The Jabberwocky goes to step on me but I roll out of the way just in time.

"Four, Alice." I say as I get back to my feet, facing the Jabberwocky again. "I lived in Wonderland for a year." I say louder and then begin to swing the sword, attempting to strike the beast.

"Five." I quickly put my shield up when the Jabberwocky breathes purple lightning at me. Sparks fly but the shield does its job and all I can feel is the static in the air. The lightning stops. "I can overthrow the Queen of Hearts." I say frantically, going in for another swing and missing.

I brace myself. "Six." I pause. "I can slay the Jabberwocky." I whisper under my breath, feeling more confident than I ever have in my life. With my newfound bravery I swing my sword assuredly, managing to slice it's cheek, giving me the distraction I need to run underneath him. He attempts to bite me but I avoid his teeth that are the size of my head and push forward.

I reach the ruins of the White Queens castle and begin to climb, something I had got quite good at. Growing up my mother would always chastise me for climbing up the multiple stories of our home while my father would simply laugh. I push that thought aside, too painful to think about.

The Jabberwocky begins to bring it's claws down on me but I swiftly jump to the next ledge, narrowly avoiding being killed. I take a breath of relief but I don't linger in one spot before hoisting myself up to the top of the castle, barely avoiding the next strike of lightning he breaths at me.

The Jabberwocky perches on the top of the already crumbling building and looses his balance when the wall crumbles under his feet. I stab my sword directly into his eye, causing him to duck his head defensively and lets out a roar of pain.

In that moment I don't think, I just act on instinct, jumping on the back of his neck. He begins to swing his head around wildly, attempting to fling me off but I hold on tightly. He swings his head upwards and I let go, flying up in the air, heart beating wildly as I bring the sword over my head.

"Off with your head!" I shout before coming down and severing the Jabberwocky's head from it's neck and I land in a heap on roof of the castle. I lay on my back and allow myself to grin madly.

Storybrooke: Present

"I can't make it work, what you're asking me is impossible!" Emma says, slamming the hat down on the table and standing.

"No! It has to be. If it's not, I'm never going home. I'll be cursed to live in this house forever." He shouts back frantically, inspecting the hat.

"What is so cursed about your life? Look at this place! It's beautiful. Doesn't seem cursed to me!" Emma shouts, finally snapping at how ridiculous this all is. She doesn't have time to placate a mad man, she needs to get Mary Margaret to the police station in time.

"It's cursed because, like everyone else here, what I love has been ripped from me." Jefferson explains, tears forming in his eyes as he walks over to the telescope. "Take a look." Emma walks over to the telescope and is unnerved when she sees a little girl having dinner with her family. She looks up at Jefferson, concern contorting her features, but not for him.

"Her name is Grace, here it's Paige. But it's Grace. My Grace." He pauses. "Do you have any idea what it's like to watch her, day in and day out? Happy, with a new family, with a new father." Emma looks disturbed, realizing that he believes he's the little girls father. "That's not all, look over here." He adjusts the telescope to somewhere else in town. Emma leans down, expecting to see someone else's home but all she can see is the hospital.

"That's the hospital." She says, voice laced with confusion.

"That's where Regina is keeping her, Alice. She's like my daughter..." He trails off, lost in though.

"Alice?" Emma asks, a sympathetic look on her face. Despite the circumstances, she can't help but feel bad for him.

"She's real, and you can see for yourself. Go to the hospital psych ward, she'll be there." He says confidently before his voice turns somber as a single tear trails down his face. "She has been for 28 years."

Wonderland: Present

I stand next to the Jabberwocky's head and kick it lightly. Just to be sure. When it doesn't move I let out a satisfied huff and turn to walk back to the path.

Right as I enter the path I stop dead in my tracks at the sight before me. Standing about ten feet ahead of me is Hook and Jefferson. Hook is standing behind Jefferson, holding his hook to his neck as Jefferson looks at me with a proud expression at the sight of me wearing the armor.

"That was an impressive show lass." Hook says without a hint of sarcasm. I raise my sword once more, my expression now cold.

"Let him go." I demand softly. He looks at me with a bittersweet smile.

"You're a tough one aren't you?" He looks down for a moment, clearly conflicted. "But I'm afraid that's why you must leave Wonderland." He tells me before taking something out of his pocket and throwing it between us. Before my eyes, the ground changes and begins to swirl. My hair flutters around my face. "This portal will return you back to your land."

"No!" Jefferson shouts and my gaze meets his. Tears form in my eyes and I smile a sad smile at him.

"What do you want?" I ask Hook without taking my gaze off Jefferson's.

"It's not what I want love, it's what Cora wants." He tells me, voice filled with sympathy. "She wants you gone. If you jump into that portal, your friend will live."

"You can't Alice!" Jefferson shouts, panicked. "Let me die." His voice barely a whisper over the sound of the whirling portal.

"No." I whisper back, tears streaming down my cheeks steadily.

"Please, just... tell Grace that I never gave up on trying to find her." He pleads.

"Jefferson." I sob out. He looks at me and nods tearfully. "Do you know why a raven is like a writing desk?" I ask, forcing myself to smile through the tears. He simply looks at me, eyes widening slightly. "Because it can produce a few notes."

"You remember." He breathes out.

I fall forward, feeling myself being transported back when the last word I hear is Jefferson's scream.

"No!"

#killian jones #killian jones fic #killian jones smut #killian jones ouat #killian jones imagine #killian jones x oc #killian jones x reader #once upon a time #ouat #captain hook

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ladygenius · 2 years ago

Text

Crimson Nights & Predators | Part III

Content: in their fairytale surrounding finally, Spencer tells y/n what’s bothering him about the evening

Wordcount: 1300

Category: fluffiest confession fluff🫶🏼

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, bullying, verbal abuse

“By the way”, she clearly had to urge the rest of the mysterious booze down her throat, “Obviously, I’ve been planning to share this exquisite finding with my favorite bookworm anyway”, she darted her eyes back up at him.

“Mr. Braggy and his wingman just offered the first opportunity for a little getaway. Whoops.”

She rolled her eyes before facing one of the huge shelves, clearly with a plan in mind. “Alright. This devil’s stuff better made me forget about my vertigo. Hey, what do you think, Spence? Bet I’m gonna find, say, at least an original Twain or Whitman up there.”

Bravely, she climbed the first few steps of the ladder, a little wobbly on her heels maybe but still as gracefully as ever. That was until she leaned over a little too far and just as she reached for a particularly fancy-looking book the wheel mechanism of the ladder set in, catching y/n off guard.

This time, it really was her frightened squeaking as she clung to the shelf and Spencer reacted just in time to stop the ladder before she would have eventually flopped to the ground - ungracefully.

After a moment of shock that lasted longer than it would have with sober brain cells, they both burst out into ringing laughter.

So while Spencer was holding onto the ladder from the start this time as a safety measure, y/n continued her quest for the most ancient-looking copies. He urged himself to look in every direction but ahead of him – y/n’s legs centimeters away from his face - nervous at the sight of their soft skin and perfect shape, he desperately tried to find something to talk about. But it was her voice that made the decision for him.

“Spence.. Can I ask you a question?" his face instinctively tilted upwards, only to shyly dart down again, realizing he didn't want her to think he was trying to get a glimpse up the skirt of her alluring dress. "Do you think I’m being kind of a bitch to Andersson?” The question alone set off an alarm inside him.

“I mean, it’s actually kinda mean… running away from someone like a kid on a playground. But you know, I’ve told him like a gazillion times that I have no interest in going out with him.”

Spencer’s thoughts immediately catapulted him back to the bar. The two men’s degrading comments about y/n and Andersson’s plan to take advantage of her potentially intoxicated self once the evening had come to an end. And yet, here she was feeling sorry for him. It made his heart ache. But fortunately, from where she was standing, she couldn’t see the honest pain plastered on his face.

"Spence, did I say something wrong?" "Oh.. no, y/n. Not at all" She descended carefully, Spencer steadying her with a gentle hand on her back.

"You know.." she hesitated, suddenly their difference in height making her seem so vulnerable and timid again. "I didn't want you to think of me this way but I feared somehow this was reminding you of how you were treated once.. you know, back in high school. I don't want you to think of me as that kind of woman.. you know, leading guys on only to prank them in some demeaning way for everyone to see."

"What, woah, y/n. This isn't even in the slightest comparable. I mean it. Hey, look at me. I would never think of you like that, Okay?" He was incapable of even beginning to explain how far his genuine thoughts about her varied from her assumption.

She nodded doubtfully, her gaze resting on his hand on her shoulder which he immediately pulled back upon noticing.

"It's just.. I feel like you're somehow - angry about something? I don't know. Maybe I'm just reading into it too much but I was afraid we weren't okay.. Cause we are, right?" Her orbs studied him and widened hopefully, as his heart was melting once again at how well she knew him.

"No. You're right.. obviously", he sighed, y/n's chest puffing out anxiously, her brows frowning. "I just can't keep a secret from you, can I?" His timid smile clearly made y/n already feel a little more at ease. "It's those jerks." "What? Andersson and his idiotic wingman? How could simple creatures like them cause brilliant Dr. Reid any trouble?"

"I. I just can't stand how they're treating you.. you know." Y/n seemed baffled for a second. "Oh.. well, yeah, I mean, they're obvious douches and it's annoying Andersson won't ever accept a simple no. But other than staring and asking me to dance he really hasn't done anything I could blame him for. It's sweet of you, though, that you're being different. You actually sense how I'm feeling, you know. You always can."

Her hands settled on the hem of his jacket, where they had already rested earlier this evening, causing nothing but blissful feelings inside him. But now it felt all wrong.

Her eyes searched for his. But he couldn't face her, it hurt too much. Just like he had thought - sooner or later, the fairytale was bound to end.

"Please don't defend them". His lips uttered barely inaudible. "Those pricks sure as hell don't deserve that." Slightly startled by the unlike-him choice of words and the stern sound of his voice, y/n sensed that she must be clueless about the situation.

"What happened, Spence"? She softly tilted up his chin to reveal his hazel eyes meeting hers all blurry.

"They said things about you.. earlier. I overheard them. Disgusting stuff you don't deserve. No one does. I don't even wanna repeat it.. I just can't stand the thought of you being talked about this way y/n. And yet you're the one to worry about treating them fairly. They're nowhere good enough for you anyway. And I know, neither am I, but I would never treat you like that." This last part slipped out unintentionally. And y/n noticed.

It’s over, he thought to himself standing here almost crying, she must think him to be completely embarrassing.

But she just stepped even closer to Spencer, hesitating briefly before decidedly taking his hands inside her own. Finally.

"I know you never would.. That's why I love you." That, too, slipped out somewhat suddenly but not quite as unintentionally. She sensed how loaded this topic was for Spencer, how much she meant to him. She has been suspecting this for a while now, but she was always just too scared to take the leap. And now she couldn't help it. In this perfect location with his protectiveness about her.

His eyes fixated on her own for almost an eternity. Both barely blinked. Whatever happened, it wouldn't be half bad, y/n thought. After all, he finally knew. God, how he deserved to know he was loved like that.

"But.. y/n. Why would you ever, I mean. You're so much more than I am-"

"You are everything to me, Spencer. It doesn't get much bigger than that, I guess. I mean, of course, if you insisted, I could go with the whole universe too.. but the point is, you've always been more than enough because you're you-"

And suddenly it was he who cut y/n short unexpectedly. His lips met hers with the most delicate urgency imaginable. Finally, he could pull her closer without their bodies colliding meaning mere accidental contact.

Her hands around his neck tangled into his soft curls and it still felt like once they let go of each other - it might all be over again. The Fairytale a silly fantasy and reality ready to separate them cruelly.

But as they opened their eyes, everything remained the same. "I love you too, y/n."

Except for the fact that everything was different now.

Spencer's eyes were still blurry from overwhelm, but this time for a better reason as he stared deeply into hers. He cleared his throat, "By the way.. did you end up finding any good first prints up there?" Y/n let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Honest to God.. I don't remember anymore."

~~~~~~~~

What are you doing? Catch up: Part I | Part II

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radiokathryn-if · 1 year ago

Note

how would the RO’s be in a red string of Fate AU? (cut to Nate desperately trying to cut the string off his finger bc he’s engaged lmao)

So the Red String Of Fate is one if my favourite AUs because if the origins of the myth!

In the ancient Chinese myth (and please correct me if I'm wrong!) the string is actually wrapped around the ankle rather than the pinky finger like in Korean and Japanese folklore! That the string connects you to the fate you're destined to have and with the people you belong with to achieve that fate.

My favourite “take” on this story is how it applies to all kinds of people, and even multiple people! I think that because of my understanding as a person who is not only pan(sexual) and open to polyamory but also demi(romantic) with a unique perspective through my best friend in to an aroace mindset that the thout of soulmates being strictly romantic and forever only one person is a bit bizzare──humans are people people, not person people... if that makes any sense.

I love exploring different 'avenues' of what connection means to people and how to push conventional boundaries as to what fate and destiny could be. That you have thousands of strings and they are woven together to create your tapestry of Fate (and this is where my favourite mythology comes in──greek mythology!) that is ever changing because the threads fray when you lose a connection or they gray out when someone dies, not fraying because even though they're gone they're still important to you, that the brighter strands are the people who mean the most to you.

I adore it──the introspection into human connection. (I love reading through aroace and poly story's for that exact reason!)

But back to your question! In the classic sense of the Red String Of Fate AU where it's Romantic Soulmates:

You're right, Nate absolutely detests his string──the whole concept of soulmates really. What really gets him is that he hates the feeling of no control, that there's no choice to be made that his string doesn't lead to the one he asks to marry him. He learnt a long time ago how to ignore his string, how to ignore the tug when you leave his side, how to ignore the tingles on the tips of his fingers when you're closer, how to ignore you... it's sad more than anything else──that his need for control, his vision of life, deprives you of a soulmate connection too.

As stated before, Eva truly is a romantic at her core and the thought that she has a soulmate is something she dreams of. Life, however, isn't a dream world and she also believes in agency and making decisions for herself. Though if there's anything Eva regrets it's saying yes to Nate when he proposed to her. Young naivety can only go so far as an excuse when she long for the tiny ounces of warmth you bring her when you cross paths. She keeps it a secret, but the hope that you'll snap her out of the predicament she's in keeps her heart pumping and her fingers tingling!

Mica is a little bit of a different story, considering your connection to each other already. In terms of the Original Universe, Mica might be the closest thing MC has to a soulmate that universe has, platonically or romantically. Mica loves you. Full stop. The fact that fate says you're destined to be in each others life is just the cherry on top for them. It's always been easy to be in their presence, and they will never push romance on you──if you get there, that's where fate has taken you!

The concept of 'soulmates' is... strange to Detective Han, to say the least. They don't... not believe in it but they aren't particularly bothered to chase it either. I think when they finally actually realise what the tugging and the warmth and the tingling means is when they'll get a bit... tense around MC. They don't know how to navigate this and they'll eventually be ready to try──all they ask if for your patience and with time comes their love tenfold. (As fate would have it, it turns out.)

José likes the sentiment of having a Fated One, but putting it in their real world makes them a bit apprehensive. They don't like the thought of not having autonomy and while there's comfort in knowing there's someone out there just for them (and for them to give their heart to in return) the discomfort of not knowing can be a little much. They don't like the weight of expectations. It's difficult, when they make the choice to leave your side before your connection could really bloom─and it was certainly a tough decision─but they must believe that you'll come together when you're supposed to... they're just not sure if they actually do.

Ji Han grew up listening to the stories of these myths from his mother. It's something he yearns for silently. He wants you so much he'd do anything to keep you in his heart. But he's a gentleman first and lets you take the reigns──to go at your pace. In this world he might believe he can have his love at first sight, and if he has his way the sight of his love would be his last, to bless him for his next life to be with you once again.

With Fauve fate is... subjective. In this world she tends to wear gloves. She doesn't like the way she feels when she sees her string while she's... entertaining others. It's not necessarily that Fauve hates the idea of soulmates, it's just that she can't fathom that she'd ever get to meet hers. When she was younger she used to fantasize about her fated one, and her hopes for who they were always came crushing down when it never was who she thought, in the end. Upon meeting MC she may not even realise she just met her fated one until it's too late and after the decisions she's made surrounding you freezes her heart at the thought you wouldn't want her anymore. Dilemmas, dilemmas.

For Jackson, I've chosen to believe Fate gave him a second chance string. That his first red string led him to his daughter, Cilly, and the second will lead him to you. The problem, however, is that that first experience with Fate has left Jackson both weary and jaded to the idea. That while yes, it gave him his most precious thing, the live of his child, it also left him with a shattered heart and scars on his soul. Fortunately, he's not completely closed off, like Nate is, but like Detective Han he needs time to build up trust and let his walls down──for himself!

??? adores his string and the person on the other end of it. Growing up in the way they did left them alone most of the time, betrayed by their family and sent away. They hold out their hopes of love even when their body is cold from being so far away from you and worships the feeling of warmth as the two of you get closer once again.

Bonus! The Poly Routes

Jauve (Ji Han/Fauve)──They balance each other out very well here. Ji Han allows Fauve to accept and acknowledge her feelings towards Fate sooner than she would on her own──coming to terms with it more healthily and giving her more perspectives on how to goes about her choices around her fated ones than she does on her own. And Fauve makes sure Ji Han takes his time to properly love, to savour the feeling with time and introspection and creating connection before blindly jumping into it. They let's each other believe in more ways to love people, to bask in those feelings and to become better people than they thought they were capable of.

Eva&???──for ???, there's that sort of hurt in his chest at just how much they get to breathe when with MC and Eva. ??? never really thought they'd get to even have one soulmate let alone two! The build up of emotion they feel... is like it could burst out if their chest──explode their very being at any second. So they bask in the feeling of you, fingers digging a little too deep into their hold on your connection. For both of them it's all about second chances. It feels like fate has decreed to spare them more suffering and gifted them something so wholely special. Eva especially thanks whichever god's bound her to two beings, the scars and hurt from Nate seem to just melt away when you're around and she can finally relax her heart once again...

#peoplechangepeople🧡

#this might be a bit long... whoops #also sorry for the rant! this is just my favourite myth/trope/au to talk about and think about in ALL the ways!#also most these turned out to be so tragic... wtf me #radio kathryn if #all ros #c: nate nicks #c: eva vidal #c: mica hollens #c: detective han #c: josé danger #c: ji han #c: fauve #c: jackson lewis #c: ???#poly: jauve #poly: evijah

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skepticalfrogcat · 10 months ago

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This fic is Part 2 to this fic, which I do recommend reading first but it isn't REALLY necessary. Just be prepared to be a little confused about a couple of minor details if you don't feel like reading a whole other oneshot first.

(This is dedicated to @lovehugsandcandy who gave me the motivation to write this, this is a gift for both of us)

Relationship: Finch Parnassus (MC) x Aerin Valleros

Warnings: Nothing major, except some very minor and very brief violence and the fact that this fic doesn't have a particularly happy ending.

Word Count: 4,297

Summary: Following Finch's discussion with Nia, he makes a difficult decision with some painful consequences.

~~~

In the days that followed, Finch found himself with a lot to think about. He thought he did a rather good job of hiding it, and of course he tried not to think of the particularly difficult things much at all. But every so often - perhaps as Mal cracked a joke over a round at the tavern, or Kade went on about some new book he'd read - Finch would catch Nia giving him very pensive looks. He wished she wouldn't. Not only because it felt at times like her hazel eyes were boring into the back of his head, but also because his worst fear was that someone would notice and ask him why.

He wasn't prepared to divulge any of the secrets of the night Nia had visited him, and - thank the Gods - Nia didn't seem to be either. As far as he knew, she had kept her promise to him. He hadn't expected anything different, she was probably the last person he'd expect to ever break a promise. He'd kept his promise to her, too. Most of what he'd been thinking about lately, aside from other, less shareable thoughts, had been what he was going to do next.

It was nearly impossible to decide. At least out of all of the hard things he'd done while he and his friends were searching for the onyx shards, he hadn't had to make very many decisions himself. The quest probably would've gone much worse if he had. In this situation, though, it did seem like the best choice to rip off the bandage. He'd deliberated on it for a while, but at the moment it really just seemed like letting his thoughts and feelings lie would only be torturous for him. He had to go, or else he'd never be able to move forward. He'd just be haunted by all the ‘what if's and ‘if only's. He just had to get closure.

But he needed to prepare first. If he'd learned anything from - well, from everything, it would be that it was always best to enter a situation knowing as much as you could about what you were getting into. He knew he'd have to ask someone about visiting. However, he also wanted to keep the reasons behind his visit close to his chest. Those two things combined had led to what he'd hoped was a fairly unsuspicious conversation with a soldier who was often stationed nearby the cells.

He'd made some small talk first, mostly about other goings on in the kingdom, because he knew that approaching immediately with the question he wanted to ask would set off alarms. But when he'd started to feel like he'd been there long enough, he had finally gotten to his point.

~~~

“What are the protections like, when someone goes down to visit a prisoner?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in a way he hoped read as casual. “I just know that some of my friends might've been going, and I think it's about time I go for a visit myself. What should I expect?”

“I'm sure we could arrange that for you. We take minimal risks while allowing visitors to the prisoners,” the guard responded. “All visitors are accompanied by a varying number of guards determined by both importance, and how dangerous the prisoner they're visiting is. We don't even let visitors enter the cells most of the time, save for certain circumstances. I'm assuming you're speaking of paying a visit to the traitor prince, meaning you'd likely be given three guards, and you would not be allowed into the cell.”

Finch nodded along, cataloging all of that new information into his brain. He couldn't help thinking that deciding how many guards to give someone based on how important they were was a bit unsavory. It was like ranking people by how much it would matter if they died. Hearing Aerin referred to as the ‘traitor prince’ also put a bad taste in his mouth, even though he knew it was objectively true.

“Along with that, we also ensure that none of our prisoners are in possession of weapons, and we don't allow any visitors to bring weapons into the cells in order to prevent injury.” The guard seemed very pleased with herself as she bragged about the security measures of the prison.

“I don't usually carry my weapons on me anyway, but you wouldn't have to worry about me hurting anyone,” he laughed, finding the idea a bit absurd.

“Oh, no, we're confident that someone like you won't engage in any violent behavior,” the guard clarified. She fiddled with the key ring around her belt as she spoke. “We wouldn't allow you to carry any weapons because we want to make sure he won't hurt you. But you don't have to worry about that, since you won't have to go into the cell.”

Suddenly, any ounce of humor left the situation. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Aerin might try to hurt him while he was there. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Now that he was thinking about it, it seemed like an oversight on his part. But the fact that his mind hadn't even registered the idea of it brought back that all-too-familiar shame.

“That sounds reasonable,” he smiled politely, putting on a pleasant facade even when he wanted nothing more than to shake the guard in front of him and tell her she knew nothing about Aerin. “I'll let you know when I decide to go, then. I haven't settled on a time yet.”

“Alright. Have a nice afternoon, Hero of Whitetower. I'll be looking forward to your return.”

~~~

That conversation had happened three days ago, but Finch hadn't gone back to meet with that soldier. Something about the whole procedure of it hadn't felt right to him. It was much more strict than he'd anticipated, although he supposed it made sense when it came to visiting a prison cell. Still, he knew that having so many guards with him would prevent him from having the conversation he wanted to have. He couldn't be accompanied.

Now, he was leaving his room in the dead of night to go do something he absolutely shouldn't have been doing. He shut his door carefully behind him, not wanting to alert anyone of what he was doing. The only reason he was going at night was because he knew there wouldn't be quite so many people wandering the halls of the castle. He didn't want to have to explain his way past dozens of guards. If he went at night, he'd only have to sneak his way past a few of them. He'd even dressed himself in dark colors to make it easier to merge with the shadows.

The journey to the dungeon was rather short, and he didn't run into any obstacles aside from a few sleep deprived guards taking the night shift as he got close to the entrance. It seemed as though the majority of the prisoners they had in the cells weren't considered particularly ‘high-value’, so they weren't as concerned about guarding them. There was only a single guard stationed by one of the cells in the long block. It wasn't difficult to determine who that cell belonged to.

Before his conscience (and arguably his common sense) could get a hold of him, he began inching his way further into the hall. Finch silently thanked Mal for sharing his wisdom as he neared the guard, still unnoticed. Then, like a snake lashing out for a bite, he caught the guard in a chokehold and placed a hand firmly over their mouth so they couldn't call out and alert the other guards. He applied even pressure until he felt the guard slump in his arms. As he placed the guard's limp body on the ground, it caught up to him that he was doing all of this just to see Aerin on his own terms. That was a troublesome thought to have. But before he could dwell on it, a quiet voice interrupted him.

“Who's there?” Finch's heart jumped into his throat. He would've known that voice anywhere. Memories crashed into his brain like a brick wall. Memories of the Deadwood, and drakna, and sitting by a lake. Of a wicked sword, and a killing blow, and a near escape. But, most prominently, of dark hair, and bright, curious eyes, and lips on his that he so desperately wanted to forget.

“I know someone's there, I heard you,” Aerin continued after what must've been at least a minute of silence.

After a moment more, Finch responded. “You weren't supposed to.”

Another stretch of silence followed. He imagined Aerin was going through something very similar to what he just had. Or perhaps he simply hoped so. “...Finch?”

Finally, Finch stepped in front of the door, looking in through the small, barred window. He pulled back the hood he'd been concealing his face with. “I wasn't going to come,” he admitted into the darkness. He couldn't see Aerin through the shadows of the cell. That made it easier, in a way. “But I was told that I should.”

“So that's it, then?” Aerin questioned, as if he was expecting more. Maybe he had the right to. “You chose to come here in the dead of night, completely unaccompanied by guards, just because someone told you to? That doesn't sound like something you would do.”

“I guess neither of us have really been acting like ourselves, then,” Finch pointed out. He heard Aerin laugh, and had to close his eyes in order to process the swell of overlapping emotions that came with it.

“You sound really sure about that. Sure that you know what it means for me to be ‘acting like myself’, I mean.” That reminder was a harsh blow. There was the Aerin he'd met in the Deadwood and the Aerin who had killed his brother in cold blood and kidnapped Nia, and Finch didn't know which Aerin was the real one. It very well could've been this one. It probably was. “Still, I don't believe someone telling you to is the only reason why you came here.”

“And what makes you think you know me well enough to decide that for me?”

“Because if I were out there and you were in here, I know why I'd be coming to see you,” Aerin answered matter-of-factly. “Now, are you going to stay out there, or are you going to come in so we can actually talk?”

That gave Finch pause. He glanced to his left, at the still unconscious guard. They had a key ring on their belt, much like the other guard Finch had spoken to. He could only assume Aerin knew the keys were there. But Finch hadn't planned on entering the cell at all, his plan had always been to stay on the other side of the door, to get it over with quickly. He wasn't as sure of that now. It was a risk, he knew that; Nia probably hadn't actually entered the cell, no matter how many times she'd visited. He'd been so sure that Aerin wouldn't hurt him, but how could he be? It wasn't as though Aerin had never done anything unexpected in the past.

But Aerin was right: how were they ever supposed to have a real conversation if they couldn't even see each other? Finch had thought the separation would help things stay impersonal, but that hadn't worked. It still felt personal, it just also felt wrong.

He grabbed the key ring.

He had to try a couple before he found the one that worked, but when he heard the click of the lock opening, he froze. He'd just unlocked the cell door of one of the most valuable prisoners in the dungeon. And now, he was going to go into that cell with him. He closed the door behind him as he stepped inside, as if that would matter. He couldn't lock it again from the inside.

“If you're worried about the lock, don't be,” he heard Aerin say from the other side of the cell. The sound of chain links clinking together followed, and Finch assumed that meant Aerin was shackled to something. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. “I wouldn't leave now, even if I could.”

Finch turned and took a couple more careful steps into the room. As he came closer, and his eyes adjusted to the dark, Aerin's face became clearer. He looked just as Finch remembered him. Not as he first remembered him, though, no; as he'd looked when they'd last seen each other. Aerin's skin still had that pallid gray tone, and if Finch looked closely he could see the dark black veins creeping across it. His eyes were still clouded with black, too, and they were narrowed as though he was putting Finch through exactly the same examination. He didn't look quite as regal as he had the last time Finch had seen him, though. Maybe because he was in much simpler clothes, or because he was chained to the floor by his ankle. Probably both. He was sitting on a wooden slab that had been attached to the wall like a bench, which only looked marginally more comfortable than the stone floor.

“You haven't changed much, have you,” Aerin noted, a smirk crossing his face.

“Neither have you.” Finch stood a few feet away from him, not because he was afraid of Aerin per se, but because he was afraid of what getting closer would do to him.

“You're allowed to get comfortable, you know. I'm not going to bite you,” Aerin shifted the way he was sitting, leaving enough room on the wooden seat for Finch to sit down beside him. Finch remained standing. “Alright then, if you're dedicating yourself to that, I can't stop you.” He paused, glancing away for a moment, before looking back up at Finch. “Who told you to come?”

“Nia did. She said she's been coming, and she thought it would be best if I did too,” Finch explained, feeling like that was enough information for the time being. Nia's words still rattled around in his head, though: He has been asking about you. Finch wasn't going to mention that. It would've only made things more complicated.

Aerin rolled his eyes. “Of course she did. Probably another effort to ‘purify’ me. I have no idea why she thought sending you would work, though.” His eyes narrowed. “But the real question is, why did you listen to her? When she told you to visit me.”

“I believed her, I thought it was a good idea,” Finch shrugged, averting his eyes. He was lying through his teeth, of course, but that was neither here nor there.

“Come on.” Aerin didn't seem amused by that answer. He stood up and stepped as close to Finch as he could, which was still decently far away, but it was close enough for him to press his thumb against the side of Finch's chin until his gaze was directed back towards him. Finch gently pushed his hand away. “You were nowhere near that into the Light the last time I saw you, and the last time I saw you, you were actively wielding a massive Light sword. Do you remember that?” He asked, an unmistakable teasing tone in his voice.

“Yes, I do remember that. And I'm sure you remember why I was doing it.”

“I do. So give me the real reason.” Now that Aerin was standing, they were eye level with each other, and Finch found himself unable to look away. Even with that darkness in them, his eyes still held something that could capture Finch's attention in an instant. “And I'll know if you're lying.”

Finch sensed a running theme of people being able to read him like a book, or at least claiming they could. He floundered for something to say. “I can't tell you,” he landed on, knowing that was probably the worst thing he could've said.

“Great,” Aerin sighed, dragging an exasperated hand over his face. “Why?”

“It would be… counterproductive,” Finch attempted to explain.

Aerin's brow furrowed. “What, so telling me why you decided to come would ruin whatever plan you have for how this should go?”

Finch clenched his hands into fists, then stretched his fingers all the way out. “I know it's confusing, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“Ironic choice of words given that you'd probably refuse to trust me, if I asked you to,” Aerin crossed his arms.

“I have a good reason for not trusting you,” Finch reminded him.

“Which is why I'm not asking you to trust me, I'm just asking you to be honest with me. It isn't like I have anyone to reveal your dark secrets to anyway.” Aerin gestured around himself, to the dark empty cell.

Finch looked at the ceiling, then at the ground. After Aerin had betrayed them, Finch had lost all of the faith he had that any of their relationship had been real. Well… almost all of it. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just another case of manipulation. If he told Aerin why he'd really visited, would that information just be used against him? It could easily be the basis to accuse him of treason, of an allegiance to the traitor. And whether or not he was actually charged, his reputation would certainly be tarnished.

When he looked at Aerin, though, even he had a hard time believing that. He would understand, wouldn't he? They'd be done with this night, go their separate ways, never have to worry about each other again. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Telling Aerin that might make it easier. He just had to be clear about what he needed.

“Fine.” Finch took a deep breath. He needed a moment to think of the best way to word what he was about to say. “I haven't been sleeping lately. And I realized that the reason why that's been happening is because I have a lot of unresolved feelings… about you. But I don't want to, and- and I know that I have to get over all of that. So I came here to see you, and I'm hoping that maybe in doing all of this, I can finally get some closure. Then we won't ever have to see each other again.”

As he'd been speaking, Aerin had gotten closer to him. But, wait, that wasn't possible. No, he’d been the one to move in. Unconsciously, sure, but he'd still done it. The fact that he hadn't even noticed was arguably worse. But Aerin didn't look like he found it humorous, as a part of Finch had expected. He didn't look angry either, or upset, or happy, or even all that surprised. He just looked confused.

“I told you not to lie,” Aerin warned, a slight edge to his voice that Finch couldn't identify.

“Aerin, this has been tearing me up for weeks. If I was lying, someone should've told me.”

“Gods, Finch, you stubborn bastard,” Aerin hissed through gritted teeth. “Of course you let that lie for so long. Why didn't you come sooner?” He reached out and took hold of the front of Finch's shirt, pulling him in closer. Finch could see Aerin searching his eyes for something more, some sort of explanation. “What is it that you're so afraid of?”

Finch didn't respond for a moment, simply keeping his eyes locked on Aerin's as he allowed the words to dig into him. He remembered that speaking with Aerin had always made him feel a bit like he was being studied. He supposed he probably was, in a way. That remained true. Now, though, it was the last straw. He felt something snap inside of him, probably his last thread of sense. He placed his hand on the back of Aerin’s neck and, against all better judgment, he kissed Aerin Valleros.

Everything about it was wrong. He shouldn't have been here, he shouldn't have felt this way, he shouldn't have done this. But then the hand holding his shirt was being used to turn him around until he felt his back hit the wall, and suddenly it was all right. More right than anything had been in weeks, maybe more than anything had been ever.

Finch's hand wove up into Aerin's hair, savoring the feeling of it. He'd missed that more than he could've imagined. One of Aerin’s hands pressed flat against his chest, and the other one wandered upwards to brace itself at the side of his neck just below his jaw. It was then that he noticed how cold Aerin's hands were. His face was colder than it should've been too, come to think of it. That realization snapped Finch out of whatever stupor he'd been in.

“Wait, wait,” he muttered, turning his head away from Aerin.

“What?” Aerin wore a puzzled expression on his face.

“I… I shouldn't be doing this.” Finch stepped to the side and then back into the center of the room. He began pacing back and forth in a line. “Oh Gods, what have I done? I knew I shouldn't have come, why did I ever…” He trailed off into a groan of frustration. He'd just made a massively irreparable mistake. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as if that would make the whole situation go away.

“Finch, it isn't that bad,” Aerin tried to convince him. He sounded like he believed it, too, which Finch could only imagine for himself. “At least I'd hope you didn't think it was.”

“It wasn't bad, it-” Finch took a deep breath in. “It wasn't bad, but this is bad. As in, no one can know I did that. No one should know I was even here, really.”

“So that was your closure, then?” Aerin's words had a bite to them that Finch wished didn't cut as deep as it did. He sounded hurt, and it caused a stab of guilt in Finch's chest that he then felt even more guilty for having in the first place.

“No, actually, believe it or not this is the exact opposite of what I wanted to happen here.”

“Well that isn't my fault, is it.” He heard Aerin sit back down behind him.

“No, I'm not blaming you, I just…” Finch closed his eyes. “I have to leave.”

The unfinished final half of his sentence hung between them, unspoken but still well understood. I have to leave, and I'm not going to come back.

A heavy silence found a home in the room for a moment. “Okay, fine. If that's what you want.”

Finch could hear Aerin's disappointment, and it killed him. Because he didn't want to leave, but he had to or else he'd ruin himself. He'd probably lose his friends, his brother, his dignity, almost everything he'd ever cared about. Did he really think that all of that was worth it, just for one person? That was probably what scared him the most: the fact that he knew deep down that the answer was yes. So he had to leave now.

He took a few steps toward the cell door and placed his hand on it, lingering there. “Goodbye, Aerin,” he muttered into the darkness.

“Goodbye, Finch,” the darkness responded.

Finch pulled the cell door open again and stepped back out into the hall, closing it behind him as quietly as he could. He was sure the guards were still at their posts, and now wasn't the time to be found. He locked it tightly again, and returned the key ring to the still unconscious guard on the ground, who he was sure would wake up very soon. It was time for him to go. He spared one last glance at the cell door before he departed again.

He made quick work of getting back up to his room, especially now that he knew what would be in his path. Shutting the door behind him was a bit comforting, more than he'd expected it to be at least. He supposed he'd grown sort of used to being there. Not to mention that now he was alone, which meant he had a chance to work through all of this before anyone else saw him.

He hadn't stopped feeling guilty, even after he'd gotten back into bed. He didn't intend to tell his friends, but he couldn't help thinking about how disappointed they'd be if they knew. Especially Nia, who had advised that he go in the first place. And she'd inevitably end up visiting Aerin again, wouldn’t she? Would she be able to tell something had happened? All of the uncertainty gave him a headache. He was exhausted. He didn't know how he could possibly be expected to cope with the seemingly constant stressors being thrown his way, but he was still going to try.

Right now, though, he just needed some sleep. He needed to forget about Aerin, and Nia, and everyone else. He wished he didn't have to, and that everything was easy, but it wasn't. Nothing had been even remotely easy since Kade had gotten trapped in the Shadow Realm, and now things would probably never be that simple again, no matter how much he begged the Gods for respite. His choices were either to keep moving forward, or change his name and run off to live in the mountains. He just had to keep being resilient. Either way, though, he'd be much more capable in the morning. He had to be. Whether he wanted to or not.

#just know that EVENTUALLY things do work out for them i swear #it just. isnt right now #but maybe ill write them some happiness at some point #blades of light and shadow #blades of light and shadow choices #choices #choices blades #playchoices #choices blades of light and shadow #playchoices blades of light and shadow #blades 2 #playchoices blades #aerin valleros #finch parnassus #aerin x mc

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