#and I don’t believe in coincidences cause I’ve learned there are none here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myvoicenottheoneyougiveme · 1 year

Text

It doesn’t matter where I go... you’ve already been there.

My life isn’t mine to live and hasn’t been for 14 years... ever since it became your life.

I’ve run out from under collapsing, burning buildings, one after another. Your all-consuming arsonist’s charade has become a fact of life.

I don’t hold my breath anymore for a day when your parasitism could ever be starved out. I just march one foot in front of the other toward whatever shreds of freedom I can still manage.

At the end of the day, you are the coffin. The question of whether that’s final, or not, I don’t yet know the answer to.

But there will, soon enough, be nothing left to resume... the question becomes moot.

Don’t tell me what to do, or preach as you used to about what I should or shouldn’t be doing, while you actively defeat anything in life that even matters.

Just know... your narrative, your desired reflection will always be incomplete. There won’t be any more “next time”s. There won’t be any more rounds. There will be no one left to blame, just as it was when I made good on escaping you for what I thought was the last time. “This” escalation will idle and wither away without the host through which you recast yourself. No more crises. No more great big games in need of a thousand willing hands. No more poor “sad” girl by virtue of the villainy you contrast yourself with.

Your “victory” was not. It won’t be this time either.

But frankly, I don’t care... I didn’t care back then either. ...All that mattered was that it was over. ...Joke’s on me. If someone told me I’d be 34, still living in the shadow of a monster, when I was 24... Or what could I have told myself at 18, to prevent having anything to do with you at all in the first place? If someone could have made me comprehend that “this” would be the result, and that it was all there was to look forward to... spare yourself the trouble, kid. It’s all downhill from here.

....

Like all patterns, they would have just played out somewhere else, but they would have never been the binding “do or die” that our enmeshed lives were. To live and learn wouldn’t have meant nuclear war, all or nothing, complete and total annihilation.

What could I have done, to have never crossed paths with you?

________________________________________________________

Re: the again repeated “As long as he believes it’s real” as though a spoken reply “none of this sticks to me” she said.

I call them “charades” for a reason don’t I?

It was all a farce, for 10 years one after another, to squeeze and bleed all in the name of this and that and everything else on any given day. You wear a different face every day, looking for reactions. ...There’s a Dr. Phil “ITS NOT ABOUT CHU” meme in here somewhere. But damn, that’s all you heard, but it should have been quite plain who I was addressing. The person that made “This” in the first place.

Nothing about what you claim to be “science” or truth seeking or exhibiting a pattern of behavior you’ve actually assigned to me, being a farce matters in the least bit. Notions about intractable patterns in romantic attachments are COMPLETELY BESIDE THE POINT, as well as the pessimism around love, that you’ve ever instilled in me. Let me just paraphrase you for a second here. You show me narcissism again and again, I come to the conclusion based solely on that, that I’m doomed to keep finding that kind of person, and therefore love is pointless. NO NO NO, I WAS JUST ACTING, you say.

But if this is well and truly a matter of your reflection, cause I’ve now struck a nerve, your exes would seem to corroborate this supposedly “made-up” pattern of behavior in you, in both of you. What a coincidence, you being so effective at “pretending” to be so monstrous, cause that’s SO NOT like you. But if this is all a matter of your reflection now, all I have to do is look around and see for myself. The evil you’re doing in my life... my life. Takes a kind of person to author “this”. That’s why “this” has a given name to match. And everything about it, everything, is textbook in that regard.

But you’re just pretending to be evil. Ya, and the costs of that evil to me, personally, are just pretend as well? The immeasurable costs?

Your reflection is damning. But look at you running with that thread.

I am effectively barred from EVERYTHING in life. You do everything in your power to get between me and everything and everyone I encounter. You situate yourself like a parasite and feed on all that you get revolving around you. You are the middle person and you are engorged on all that passes through you--you the integral, indispensable, needed, powerful, person to save us all from one made up crisis after another.

There are no human connections in “this” life. There is only you. Every last person is just “this” by another name. In the same way, there is no me as far as anyone else is concerned. There is only “this”. There is only you. There is only your game and the caricature you sell.

There is nothing to be had with any person that could lie and manipulate for you, gaslighting and playing mind fucking games with my insides. Oh, I’m sorry. I’m mistaken. It’s all for show. It’s all for show. It’s my problem. It’s actually quite indicative of what’s wrong with me? I see. I needn’t concern myself with the very real unraveling of trust and the slow death poisoning of every connection I ever dared to still hold onto, to say nothing of new connections. It’s not real. I see. I see. I’m just overreacting to the kinds of disingenuous maneuvers and outright stabbings from people I’d have ever called my own. Cause, it’s all for show. I’m being gaslit, but it’s all for show. I’m being lied to, but it’s all for show. I’m being violated, but it’s all for show. I’m being harassed, but it’s all for show. I’m being stalked in the most invasive and pervasive way imaginable and made an exhibition out of, but it’s all for show. It’s not real. No no. Not real. It’s all for show. We don’t mean it, except when we do. We don’t mean it, but we never don’t not mean it either. And can’t be bothered with how it affects me. Cause it’s all for show.

So, when is the show over? When does life return to normal? When isn’t it completely pointless to be anything but alone in this life or to reach for anything or hold onto anything or anyone? When am I done being erased from my own life?

When are the games over? It doesn’t matter what you say you’re doing here. It doesn’t matter who you say you are. What you’re doing speaks for itself.

Is “this” final? Is “this” permanent? I’m not waiting another 10 years to find out.

0 notes

andreafmn · 3 years

Text

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3,195

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 3/?

Warnings: brief mention of attempted suicide

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Follow Me!

<- Previous | Next->

Chapter 3

"Time!" Mr. Harris looked up from his watch. "If you catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal."

I looked down at my beaker and saw a horrible concoction of half crystal and half goo. Thanks to Stiles, my last partner of this weird-ass rotation the chemistry teacher had us partake in. Yet even though I didn't get with Stiles that well I was relieved that he was my partner. Isaac had been completely insufferable these last few days and I couldn't handle that.

"Now this part of the experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy. You can eat it." I was bummed that I couldn't eat mine and I guess Lydia noticed.

"Hey, (Y/N), we can share mine. Don't frown." I smiled at her and she returned it.

After Lydia gave me half her rock crystal, Scott just stood up and screamed our names to stop, and everyone else just stared at us. We both turned and gave the boy a weird stare before diverging our attention back to the candy. After clinking our candies against the other, we savored the sweet treat.

Allison's POV

"Derek is outside waiting for (Y/N) and Lydia," Scott said.

"Waiting to kill them?"

"If he thinks one of them is the Kanima, then yes. Especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not Lydia."

"Stiles, she didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened."

"No, it can't be her."

"Well, it's not (Y/N) either."

"Well, it could be her."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" What the hell was his problem?

"Well, we have no idea who she is, and she hasn't really proven to be a good person. And the attacks did start after she first arrived at Beacon Hills."

"You don't know her, I do. Believe me, it's not her. I've known her my whole life. I think I would have noticed her turning into a killing lizard and I don't think I would be here to tell you. So, we can cross her out." We both sighed. "But it doesn't matter because Derek thinks it's one of them. So, either we can convince him that he's wrong or we've got to figure out a way to protect them."

"Well, I don't think he's gonna do anything here. Not at school." Scott stepped in.

"What about after school?" I asked and he sighed. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?"

"By three o'clock?"

"There can be something in the bestiary."

"Oh, you mean the 900-page book written in Archaic Latin that none of us can read? Good luck with that." Seriously Stiles, not helping. At least I was trying.

"Actually, I think there might be someone who can translate," I said thinking about our guidance counselor.

"Uh, I can talk to Derek maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove it's not either of them or... But if anything happens you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean?"

"You can't heal like I do." I stared at him. I wasn't a defenseless baby. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I can protect myself." I took the crossbow out of my bag. He said nothing. "What? Did something else happen?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt. Seriously, if anything goes wrong you call me, okay?! I don't care if your dad finds out. Call or text, scream or yell; whatever, I'll find you as fast as I can." He stared straight into my eyes.

"We have until three."

He turned to leave until my crossbow went off. "Ooh." Scott quickly turned around and caught the arrow.

"Aah. Sorry." Stiles handed me the crossbow. "Sorry. Sensed a trigger on that."

Scott's POV

Currently, Stiles was on Lydia's and (Y/N)'s trail, and I was on the field with Boyd trying to find Derek.

"I wanna talk to Derek."

"Talk to me."

"I don't wanna fight."

"Good. Cause I'm twice the size of you" I looked up to find it true.

"True. Really, really true." He smirked. "But you wanna know what I think? I'm twice as fast." I smirked back and tackled him to the ground. Once we stood up, Derek appeared by our side.

"She failed the test." His face held his iconic scowl, and his arms were crossed.

"Yeah, but that doesn't prove anything. Lydia's different."

"I know. At night she turns into a homicidal walking snake."

"I'm not gonna let you kill her."

"Who said I was gonna do it?" I looked back to the school and realized Erica and Isaac were still back in the building. I tried to run towards it, but Boyd threw me down. "I don't know why you think you have to protect everyone now, Scott. But even so, Lydia has killed people and she's gonna do it again. And next time it's gonna be one of us."

"What if you're wrong? For all we know it could also be (Y/N). She didn't pass either, and how is it a coincidence that the attacks started after she arrived?" For a second I could have sworn there was a sign of desperation and worry in his face. But as quick as I blinked the look was gone.

"Lydia was bitten by an alpha. It's her."

"You saw that thing up close. You know it's not like us."

"But it is! We're all shapeshifters. You don't know what you're dealing with. It happens rarely and it happens for a reason."

"What reason?"

"Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are." He gave me his hand and helped me up. "Even Stiles calls her cold-blooded."

"Well, what if she's immune? What if she has something else inside of her that makes her immune to the bite which is why she didn't get paralyzed."

"No one's immune. We've never seen it or heard of it. It's n... It's never happened." He argued.

"What about Jackson?" He looked away. "That's why you tested him, isn't it? Because you gave him what he wanted, didn't you?"

"Scott..."

"You said the bite either kills you or turns you. You were probably hoping that he would die. But nothing happened, right? You have no idea why do you?"

"No." Derek's jaw clenched and I knew I struck a never, so I pressured on buying more time.

"I have a theory. That she's immune and that somehow, she passed it on to Jackson. You know I'm right."

"No!

"You can NOT do this!"

"Look, I can't let her live! You should've known that."

"I was hoping I could convince you but then, I wasn't counting on it." He looked at me frazzled as to what I meant, I just smirked.

(Y/N)'s POV

Being stuck with Stiles and Lydia in the library is torture, an experiment I did not want to know the result of. Actually, just Stiles. Ever since Chemistry he had been on our trail like a lost puppy. Lydia and I had a project to work with, and he was just in the way. He was acting so weird and fidgety, more than usual.

"Hey, Allison. What are you doing here?" Lydia said looking behind her.

"Oh nothing, just wondering if you wanted to get together for a study group."

"Sure, that would actually maybe let the tension leave this group," I said and as we were leaving, Jackson joined.

"Study group? I'm coming with."

"Great." We left through the back door of the library, lord knows why, and we were walking at top speed.

"If we're doing a study group why don't we just stay in the library?" Lydia said. I was asking myself the same thing but since everyone else had stood up, I just followed.

"Because we're meeting up with somebody else."

"Why don't they just meet us at the library?" I asked.

"Oh, that would have been a great idea! Too late."

"Okay, hold on..." Lydia started saying but Jackson stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"Lydia, shut up and walk." Jerk.

We all got inside of Stile's jeep since he thought it would be faster that way because we were already late. It was an awkward ride to what I learned was Scott's house. No one said much except for the casual groan or scoff coming from Lydia.

"If we're meeting at Scott's house, where's Scott?" Lydia asked.

"Meeting us here. I think. I hope." Stiles said as he led us up to the front steps and into Scott's house.

Once inside he closed every single lock there was on the door. My reaction was involuntary as I stared at the slim boy in front of me as if he was another worldly creature.

"Uh, there's been a few break-ins in the neighborhood." He then put a chair on the doorknob and now Lydia joined in the stare. "And a murder. Yeah, it was bad."

"Lydia, follow me. I need to talk to you for a minute." Jackson spoke up.

"Seriously, what is going on with everyone?" Lydia said exasperated.

"Actually, I've been thinking the same thing. What the hell is going on?" I asked once Jackon and Lydia were out of sight.

"Nothing. Like we said it's just a study group." Stiles answered and I crossed my arms against my chest. Groveling for an answer seemed completely futile in this situation.

Allison's POV

"You know what, (Y/N). Why don't you go into the kitchen and help yourself to anything or go upstairs and lay down? I think Scott will take a while."

"O-kay?" She headed upstairs with an audible sigh and I motioned to Stiles to give me his phone to dial Scott.

"Hey, it's me. You need to get here. Quick." I looked outside and saw Derek and his pack waiting. I looked at the phone after Scott hung up and started dialing my dad's number.

"What are you doing?"

"I think... I think I have to call my dad."

"But if he finds you here, you and Scott..."

"I know." I stared at him. "What are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay, they're here to kill Lydia... Or, or even (Y/N)." We stood in silence and I debated on whether if it would be a good idea to call my father. If I did my relationship with Scott would be completely and truly over and if I didn't there could be a chance I would be down a friend or even a cousin.

"I've got an idea." I looked at a nervous Stiles. "Shoot one of them."

"Are you serious?"

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves. So, let's do it, at least give it a shot, right?" I debated for a moment.

"Okay." I don't think I sounded too confident.

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of them." His reasoning made sense. I looked outside.

"Which one?"

"Um, Derek, preferably in the head."

"Stiles, if Scott can catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, ah, just shoot one of the other three."

"You mean two?"

"I mean three." Quickly he moved the curtains aside and looked outside to check on the pack. "Where's Isaac?" Without being able to think I was attacked and thrown to the ground and so was Stiles. I don't know how but Isaac found a way in.

(Y/N)'s POV

I was laying down on the bed of what I hoped was a guest room, scrolling through my phone when I heard a crash downstairs. I guess Lydia heard it too because when I looked outside the hallway, there she was. We moved slowly and carefully. After, I started to hear snarling and crashing.

"What's happening?" Lydia cried and I half hugged her as reassurance.

"Get back. Someone's trying to break in, okay? Go." Allison appeared from around the corner.

"I can help," I said.

"Stay." We didn't move. "Guys, go!" We both ran back to the room she was with Jackson and closed the door. Yet, Jackson was nowhere in sight.

"Jackson?!" Lydia screamed and we made our way to the bathroom locking the door.

"Who are you calling?" I asked Lydia as she took out her phone.

"Hi, I-I need the police. Th-there's someone trying to break in." She turned off the light and I heard the door outside slam.

"Stiles! It's here!" Allison screamed. What the hell was IT? Then the door crashed down. Lydia started squirming so I engulfed her in a hug and tried my best to calm her nerves.

"We're gonna be alright." But honestly, I was just as scared. Once silence was the only thing surrounding us, I checked the room. "Okay, I think it's gone. We'll go out slowly."

She nodded and followed me out of the bathroom and later out of the room. We made our way calmly down the hallway and the stairs. That's when I heard the worst screech ever and it was not human. We both ran outside to see what had made such an awful sound and were met by Derek, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Scott, Stiles, and Allison. What the hell were they all doing here, and why were Erica and Isaac limp on the floor?

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"It's Jackson," Scott said. What could that possibly mean?

After everyone had calmed down, Stiles took us back to the school to look for our abandoned cars. As I made my way to my bike, Allison stopped me. Claiming that she was too worried about my safety. Not having the energy to fight, I obliged and got into her car alongside Lydia, who was still a bit shaken from the events.

"I need you to promise that you both won't say anything about what just happened." Allison staged the statement as a request but it was clearly a command.

"I promise not to say anything about what just happened if you could tell me what the HELL just happened," Lydia said, exasperated.

"I'm with Lydia on that one."

"It's kinda complicated." Allison sighed.

"How about you start with why Derek was there?" I spoke. "And Isaac and all of those kids from school?"

"Or where Jackson went or what is wrong with Erica?" She looked down. "Need to come up with a possible lie?"

"Part of the reason I am asking is because Scott and I aren't supposed to be seeing each other, okay?" Seriously? That's your excuse "So it's better if you just keep what you know to yourselves."

"Fine. I'll keep what I know about you and your boyfriend, which is nothing, to myself." Lydia started to get out, but Allison held her back.

"Hey, he's not just my boyfriend, you get that right?"

"Let me go." The strawberry blonde spat.

"Just for one second, please try and remember. "

"Remember what?!" Lydia turned.

"Remember what it feels like. All those times in school when you see him standing in the hall and you cannot breathe until you're with him or those times in class when you can't stop looking at the clock because you know that he is standing right out there, waiting for you. Don't you remember what that's like?"

"No."

"What do you mean no? You've had boyfriends."

"Not like that." She closed the door and left. Allison stared at her until she had reached the door to her house before starting the car back up.

"I know you're lying. This has nothing to do with your relationship with Scott. Maybe like five percent but when you look at the whole picture it's not. So, why don't you actually tell me the truth or I swear I will get out of this car."

"We're moving."

"Doesn't mean I won't jump out."

"What do you want me to say?!"

"The truth. Just tell me why the hell everyone has been acting so weird?"

"You're one to talk." She scoffed.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You! Ever since you've arrived you have pushed everyone away, even though all they have been is nice to you. You're alienating yourself for no reason."

"No reason?! How about the fact that I don't want to grow attached to anyone because I know that once the year ends, I'm gone? It has been like that for almost ten fucking years. Allison, you have only had to move about three times in your life, maybe four. I have been moving every single year since I was eight years old. Don't you think that it doesn't hurt to leave behind people you have grown to love and won't see again, possibly forever?"

"I didn't think..." she sighed.

"Exactly, you didn't think because you don't understand. The last time I grew close to someone, I had to say goodbye and you know what happened?" She shook her head no. "She was bullied into attempting suicide. I did that."

"Are you talking about Josie?" I nodded, roughly wiping away the tears that had spilled. "That wasn't your fault. It was tragic but there was nothing you could have done. You didn't do it."

"I did. She was alone because I left, and I couldn't protect her. She won't even answer my messages. Now, I don't associate myself with people so I don't have to care about what happens to them. That way it doesn't hurt once I leave."

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I didn't know you felt that way. But don't push me away. I will always be a constant in your life. I'm your cousin, I will always be with you." She hugged me and wiped away any other tears left. "I love you but get out."

"Dude, you just ruined the moment."

"No, I mean we're at your house and I have to get home. I love you." She smiled and I got out of the car. Before I could say anything else, she sped off. She knew there was a conversation still lingering and she was trying to avoid it. I just hoped I didn't have to explain myself to anyone else.

I entered the empty house, making sure all the doors were locked, and made my way up the stairs. Opening my bedroom door, Brody jumped off my bed and onto me, slathering my face with kisses.

"Hey, buddy. I missed you too," I laughed. Being near him instantly calmed me and helped me feel more at ease after the night I had.

I changed into my pajamas, too tired to shower, and cuddled with Brody on my bed. Talking about my past always made me tense. I tried my best to stray away from the topic and reveal as little as possible as I could, but it always found a way to be uncovered. As hard as I tried it was the dark cloud that would always follow me around. All I could do was avoid the whole thing as much as I could and hope they didn't bring it up again.

With Brody's warmth next to me, I quickly nodded off to sleep and melted the stress of the day.

<- Previous | Next->

Follow Me!

Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower

172 notes · View notes

whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

this is such a general thing but defiant villain whumpee slowly breaking pls :)

Thank you so much for the ask!! I hope this is slow enough. It's not exactly the traditional whumpee breaking, but I hope it's interesting nonetheless! Feel free to send in another ask if you want something different ^^

CW//Talk of mass destruction, sleep deprivation torture, brief pet whump mention, forced to eat gross food

"It's over."

There was a weariness to the newscaster's voice-- the kind that those in the profession were never meant to display. The sheer essence of bone-deep exhaustion. A body squeezed dry of adrenaline, until fight or flight turned to fatigue.

But, the fight was won.

"For the last three days, we have been running twenty four hour coverage of the battle occurring downtown. The battle began when Villain's forces attempted to overrun an R&D lab, following the occupation of their original headquarters by our city's heroes.

The destruction has been uncountable. But, it's over.

After a final assault at three in the morning, today, the last of Villain's personal guard fled the stronghold, and were taken into captivity. An hour later, the menace themself was captured.

It's over.

What exactly will be done with Villain is unclear, but Leader has assured us that appropriate measures have been prepared for their secure containment.

As for us? At long last, goodnight Metropolis."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"And good morning, sleepyhead."

Villain could not help but wince as light washed over them in a boiling wave-- the warmth of darkness torn away from them-- as the back doors of the truck were swung open.

"You're making the biggest mistake of your life." They snapped back, hoping the venom in their voice reached its recipient, standing at the truck's mouth.

Hero.

Of course, of all people, their welcoming committee had to be fucking Hero. The biggest asshat Metropolis had to offer. The worst, most stupidly noble, stupidly loyal, stupidly-

Their fury reached a boiling point to which enraged thoughts turned incoherent. It did not matter why they hated the idiot standing before them. It mattered only that anger alone made their veins feel as though they were overflowing with magma.

"Am I?" The noble fool cocked their head to the side, mocking and arrogant. "Or are you just upset that you've lost?"

"You think I've lost?" Villain let out a hearty chuckle. "All this effort, and you've caused me a minor setback, at most."

"Well, which one of us in the cage?"

They narrowed their eyes to slits. Hero was right. They were both staring through the bars of a cage, but Villain was very much the one contained. It was a tiny, steel construction. Large enough to stand up in, and take one step in each direction, but such was all.

Loaded into the back of a truck like some kind of zoo animal. They wanted to scream!

But, unlike the heroes, they could hold back.

"Me staying here to amuse you does not equate to defeat, Hero."

"Is that all you're doing? Humoring me?"

"Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?"

"Plenty." They smirked. "For one, sitting in the back of a truck for fourteen hours doesn't exactly seem like something you'd do to humor me."

Fourteen hours...

"Have you considered that I'm simply playing a long game?"

"It'll be the longest game of your life, then. Don't plan on getting out of here anytime soon. Or, y'know, ever. That's kind of the whole point."

"You really think you can hold me forever?"

"Oh, I know so. If you knew what was coming for you, you wouldn't be taking this so lightly."

"Oh, I'm so scared. What are you gonna do, give me a donut and tell me to hug this whole thing out?"

Hero chuckled, at that.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're sure this will work?" Leader cocked a brow, hoping that the teeth marks in their lower lip weren't visible. It was a nervous habit, chewing like that.

"Certain." Scientist had a chipper tone to them-- a student having solved a math problem. "We've been developing this method for months. Trust me, they have no chance."

"None?"

"None. Even better, this technique is more than a simple containment method. It has a progressive weakening effect. Within a few months, they'll be like putty in your hand."

"You know we're talking about Villain here, right?"

"Precisely!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Villain had expected high security.

Of course they had. They'd quite frankly expected something ridiculous. A cell suspended over a pit of lava. Or a shark-infested pool. Or maybe they'd simply contain them through the power of sedatives.

None of the options sounded particularly enjoyable. But, all three sounded better than the room they stood in front of at that moment.

Six guards stood around them, each heavily armed, and not afraid to display this fact. Two stood on either side of them, each holding a chain attached to one of the twin manacles that adorned both their wrists-- they'd expected handcuffs, but two shackles per wrist seemed a little excessive. The two remaining guards stood with one in front and one behind. Their chains were those connected to Villain's feet. One tug, and they'd be face-first on the tile.

The restraints didn't make them want to flee any less. Not when they saw that room. Even chained as they were, they squirmed at the very sight of what stood before them.

It was rather large, though not ostentatiously so. Though, its size was accentuated by the complete lack of furniture lining the walls.

No. There were only two things inside the chamber.

The first stood at the center. A massive, metal ring, perhaps ten feet in height and the same in width. Four cylinders of the same material extended into the circle's center, looking terribly like hungry mouths.

One for each wrist, one for each ankle.

They were going to be splayed out like a bearskin carpet. Not to mention the vulnerability... With their limbs spread in every which direction, everything would be exposed. Their stomach, their back, their head. And they would be without a hope of retaliation.

It was a terrifying thought, but the elaborate restraint was nothing compared to the other thing inside the chamber.

Light.

There must have been a thousand of them. Shimmering, dazzling lights. On the ceiling, on the walls, some even on the floor.

It had not been since Villain's childhood that light had truly affected them. The manifestation of their abilities had coincided with the appearance of their acute sensitivity to the sun. Such was to be expected' a supernatural ability to move through places dark and shadowed, to control the shroud as though it were a thing rather than an absence did not exactly leave one looking forward to the sunrise.

Yet, they were not a vampire. Through gradual acclimation, they had learned to become comfortable with normal levels of light exposure. Spending a few hours under the sun's rays was not a problem, nor was existing within an indoor space, dominated by artificial lamps and LEDs.

But that room...

Villain could not take it. In desperation, they pulled, tugging on the restraints that dangled around them like tails. But, even they were no match for six men.

And, thus, they entered.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Now, I can see you weren't lying!"

The voice startled Villain, sent a jolt through their chest, but it did nothing to raise their head or open their eyes. Not immediately. Lifting their gaze was a task accomplished with a considerable amount of effort, and unveiling their eyes from their lids made their corneas feel to have been pierced by searing blades.

They could hardly see Hero, through the blazing lights.

"You really were trying to humor me. This is hilarious!"

It was with a terribly uncomfortable feeling that they felt fury overtake their fatigue.

"It's only been six days. I can play the long game."

"Is that why you've been hanging around?"

Though they tried, in their manacles, it proved impossible to ball their fists. The metal fit too closely around their fingers, contoured to not allow the slightest shadow of movement.

"Maybe it is, Hero. Maybe it is."

"Maybe." The Hero took a step forth, then another, until they were mere inches from their captive nemesis. "They've really done something here, huh? Ya' can hardly move an inch."

"There's a difference between not being able to and not wanting to."

"Is that so?"

Hero placed a chilled hand on their nemesis' side-- just above their hip, where their range of movement was the most limited by their splayed limbs.

Villain's heart leapt as they felt a tiny spark, jolting through their chest.

Suffering a direct blow from their nemesis was a fate they had only endured a handful of times. Now, there was nothing to protect them from it. Not even the adrenaline of battle.

"They say you're gonna give up, y'know." Hero trailed their hand, up and down Villain's taut skin. "I think they're betting on it, up in HQ. It's only a matter of time. We can all see you're getting weaker. Tired. You aren't great at hiding it."

"What I'm good at is acting."

"You're saying this is all an act? So you won't mind if I do... this?"

That time, the feeling was more of a spark.

Villain's scream echoed throughout the chamber, but there was no one to hear them but the light.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Hey! Get up. Can't you hear me?"

Of course Villain could hear Hero. They'd been hearing their stupid voice every single one of these last...

How many days had it been?

They couldn't remember. Too many.

"There's a difference between hearing and listening."

"I thought this whole breaking you thing would be more fun."

"I'm sorry that I'm not entertaining you."

"Nah, I don't think seeing you strung up like this will ever get old." Like a child, Hero laughed. "Anyways, I brought you some food. It's fish!"

Villain hated fish.

But, struggling would mean opening their eyes. Looking at the light.

And, thus, they ate.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Come on."

A sharp vibration rattled through the restraint frame, and, consequently, to the cores of Villain's bones. But, they did not move.

"I know you can hear me. So get up!"

Hero kicked the frame again, but received the same reaction.

"I thought you were playing the long game. I'm looking for some payoff, here. This new Villain is boring."

Maybe.

Maybe they were boring.

But they didn't have the energy to be anything else. Not anymore.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"What did I tell you?" Scientist smirked. "Like putty in your hand!"

"I still don't understand how you did it." Leader shook their head. "The biggest threat to the city..."

"Oh, it was easy. They've got those weird dark powers, yeah? So they aren't hurt by the light. Not exactly. But, when there's lights on, they can't sleep! Not a wink. You could leave 'em outside and give 'em the keys to your own car, and they still wouldn't be able to escape."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. By the way, who won the betting pool?"

"Engineering department. They said three months, they were the closest. You're saying they haven't slept in three months?"

"Yep! There's not much left of the old Villain anymore, though. So... I mean, now, they can be whatever you want them to be. Do you have any ideas?"

"Hm..." Leader drummed their fingers against the wall. "I have always wanted a bodyguard."

"I thought you always wanted a dog."

"True, true."

"So... why not both?"

"You have a technique for that too?"

"Yep!"

#villain whumpee #pet whumpee #hero whumper #hero villain whump #whump #whumpblr

138 notes · View notes

linsallyworld · 3 years

Note

Hi hope your day is good. Do you can any Lilith headcanons? Or Owl house headcanons in general.

I'm so happy about this ask cause I've noticed I have a lot of owl house headcanons and I haven't had the chance to write them down

So here we go

‌Amity sees in Luz someone she would love to be, cheerful, caring, and just soothing. She believes she always has something new to learn from her and that only adds to her crush.

‌Luz loves the human world but she feels constantly guilty for preferring the boiling isles. It's not just because it's a place where she can learn magic and where she has friends, but mostly because she has people who believe in her. Eda, King, Amity, Gus, Willow, Hooty, and even Lilith would trust their lives in her hands. It's a big responsibility, but it's also a kind of trust she never had at home.

‌Lilith has panic attacks. She usually doesn't let anyone see it and tries to hide it as best she can.

‌Yet, Eda found her shaking, unable to breathe, and sobbing in a corner of her room one night and she made Lilith promise that whenever she sensed this was coming she would tell her.

‌She slept with her that night and every another night she predicted the same.

‌Eda will never tell anyone. But she is truly terrified of the day they actually find another portal to the human world.

‌Hooty thought he could be friends with Lilith because she looked a lot like him. Since everyone seemed so inflamed around her in her early days at the Owl House. He felt compassion because he knows how it feels like...to be the least preferred one.

‌If King can't sleep with Luz he goes to Eda's bedroom and sleeps at her feet inside the nest.

‌Lilith feels she will never be able to forgive herself. Even though Eda says it's okay. She failed the only person who ever loved her. She doesn't know how she will ever deal with that.

‌Luz has already called Eda mom a few times. The human blushed and the witch ruffled her hair. Later, Luz cried herself to sleep. Eda wished she could scream. It's not fair.

‌Sometimes Lilith wishes Eda had killed her that day. Poetic justice.

‌The Clawthorne sisters have never said they hated each other, not even once and they never will.

‌While still in the Emperor's coven Lilith wore the mask of the superior witch who was to bring the owl lady to the Emperor. She avoided saying Eda's name. Always pushing the thought that this was her little sister far away. It worked most of the time. Most of the time.

‌Amity doesn't handle quiet places well.

‌Luz taught Lilith and Eda how to play Uno. She realized 20 minutes later that it was a mistake. "How is it possible that every single time you have all the 4+ cards of the deck?" "I don't make the rules, Lily." "Yes, you rob them."

Now some soul mate headcanons cause I'm a stupid romantic

There is a song in the boiling isles extremely old that nobody knows where it came from

"To adore someone forever

You must have the courage to be haunted by their ghost

But my fellow be clever

To discover if dead or alive is the person you want the most"

‌From the very first moment a witch begins to have romantic thoughts they are haunted by their soul mates. It's not scary, it's more like a glimpse, a laugh, a smile, the color of their eyes, or a specific word. It can be in their dreams or even in daydreaming, you wouldn't know until the very first moment that same thing happened. It's a deja vu.

‌Amity never understood why the hell she always heard about Azura's books. Even though she had never read them. So she read. When she heard Luz talk about them, she figured it was a coincidence, until that day on the knee, and the way she said "Azura's book club" was in exactly the right tone. She knew right at that moment and felt her face burn completely.

‌Eda thought it was just her curse. But she always heard the same laugh when she made jokes with everyone since she was a teenager and then as an adult with King, Luz, and Lilith. It didn't match anyone, it was more discreet and adorable.

‌She thought for a long time that her soul mate was probably already dead. Well, she knew a lot of people and a lot of laughs but none like that one.

‌But everything changed when they got a portal to the human world. Luz's mother took a while to get used to everything. However one night Eda came to dinner and with a little conversation she made it all disappear. And when Camila first laughed. She finally understood. Not dead just lost in another world.

‌Lilith always had the same song in her head. A melancholy voice that sang about how worth someone was in the end, for all off your worth I would lapse and fall again. For all that it's worth I would have loved you until the end. She doesn't like to think about it. She doesn't believe she deserves anyone who sings such beautiful words.

‌Boscha had the color of the eyes, green and gentle since she can remember. She knew as soon as she saw Willow for the first time.

So this was fun and I'm destroyed by some of them but anyway thank you for the ask and if anyone has some headcanon or prompt for me to write, especially about Lilith but not just about her, I'm always open. It can take a time but here we are.

#the owl house #headcanons #luz noceda #amity blight #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #hooty #willow #boscha #clawthorne sisters #I know a lot of angst here #I know a lot of Lilith here #gonna make another about her later

71 notes · View notes

imlovethomassanders · 3 years

Text

Eyes are the Windows to the Soul(mates) - Chapter 2

You can also read on ao3

Again, thanks to @strongindependentcheesecake for beta reading

This work is complete, and will be updated every day until completion:

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 (FINAL)

Summary: The lucky few who have a soulmate are born with heterochromia, with their left eye being the color of their soulmate’s eyes and their right eye being their own color. Not only was Virgil one of the lucky few to have a soulmate, but he was given four. His left eye changed colors every time he blinked, rotating between his four soulmates’ eye colors. His rotating eye colors caused him to be a bit of an outcast growing up, but when he finally leaves for college, things start to fall into place. This is the journey of five strangers finding each other.

Pairings: DLAMP with background Remile

Warnings: None I believe

Words: 2692

Taglist: @touchstarvedvirgil @lamp-calm-sanders @ninjago2020 @confinesofpersonalknowledge @secret-novelisthost18 @phander-sides @sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet @bookbingingproblem @viana-dascolli @sharktryingtofly @crofters-n-falsehoods @turnedthefreakingfrogsgay @little-kat07

That Saturday morning Virgil started the long drive up to Patton's house. The plan Patton arranged was for Virgil to meet him at his house and that evening meet their other soulmate. Patton had planned Virgil's arrival to coincide with his mom's work hours, so he knew that they'd get a few hours alone.

The more Patton gushed about their other soulmate, the more nervous Virgil felt. Patton refused to give too many details, though, saying he wanted Virgil to learn them himself.

Virgil finally pulled into the driveway and groaned as he stretched his legs, since he refused to stop once during the drive.

Virgil hadn't even knocked on the door before Patton swung it open and pulled Virgil inside.

Virgil was caught off guard by the suddenness of it but quickly relaxed under Patton's grasp and hugged him back tightly. Patton took a shaky breath before separating to look up at Virgil. Virgil gingerly wiped away a tear that fell down Patton's cheek. Patton smiled before going in to kiss Virgil and Virgil leaned down to meet him halfway.

Though the kiss was soft, there was still an underlying sense of urgency. That had been apart so long, after all. Virgil moved his hands to Patton's neck while Patton tried to pull him closer, though they were about as close as they could be.

Once the two finally separated they moved to the couch, Patton's legs thrown over Virgil's lap as he clung to his side, and Virgil had his arm securely around Patton's waist.

Patton had a movie playing on Netflix, but neither of them were really watching.

"How's your summer been?" Patton asked.

"Boring."

"Same here. Well, until recently," Patton beamed, and Virgil couldn't help but smile.

Virgil and Patton were planning to go to a coffee shop near Patton's house to meet their soulmate later in the evening. As the time grew closer and closer to when they needed to leave, Virgil's anxiety grew and grew. Patton could tell Virgil was getting anxious and started to rub circles into Virgil's back, something that never failed to make Virgil melt and basically turn into putty under Patton's hands.

After talking through two Netflix movies, it was time. Patton hopped off the couch and offered his hand to Virgil. Virgil took it and the two were out the door.

With every step Virgil took, his heart rate increased. This was it. Virgil was about to meet another soulmate. They entered the coffee shop and his heart rate grew even faster. They sat down and he felt his breathing start to grow a tad bit shallower.

There were too many people making too much noise. All the movement of the people around him was just too much and he tried to focus just on his and Patton's joined hands, watching as Patton rubbed circles on the back of his hands with his thumb.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone approach their table. Patton let go of his hands to stand up. Virgil took a deep breath and looked over, and the world that was just going too fast suddenly stood still.

He was gorgeous. He was taller than Patton and probably taller than Virgil. His posture was perfect and his dark hair was slicked back without a single strand out of place. He just radiated this sense of sophistication that would have intimidated Virgil had Patton not just thrown his arms around him, causing him to stumble back a little bit.

Virgil's breath hitched as he looked behind the glasses to see that next to his deep blue eye was Virgil's own gray, which faded into dark brown once their eyes met.

"Virgil! This is Logan! He's our soulmate!" Patton exclaimed as he ushered Logan into a seat between them.

"Hi..."

"Salutations."

"Patton glanced between the two, smile growing even larger.

"So you actually lived here your whole life, too!?" Patton exclaimed. Logan nodded.

"Up until recently. I live out of state now, near my university. I'm just here to visit my parents this month."

"So we could've met a long time ago," Patton said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"We could have, yes."

Seeing Patton's troubled expression caused Virgil to jump in.

"So what are you majoring in?" Virgil asked. Patton was holding one of Virgil's hands under the table and was back to rubbing circles in the back of his hand.

"Chemical engineering."

"Damn."

"Patton told me you're majoring in art like he is?" Logan asked as he went to sip his coffee.

"I am," Virgil nodded. "But I'm stuck in a dorm cause I'm only there on scholarship."

"From what I've heard, this university doesn't offer many art scholarships. You must be quite good," Logan said. Virgil felt heat rise quickly onto his face.

"So how'd you meet Patton?" Virgil asked quickly, wanting the attention off of him.

"He literally ran into me."

Virgil snorted.

"That sounds like Patton."

Patton just shrugged.

"He offered me his hand to help me up, and that's when I saw his eyes," Patton continued.

"He was so surprised, he accidently let go of my hand, causing him to fall again."

Patton grinned sheepishly as Virgil laughed.

"He then pulled me onto the ground to hug me. I first pushed myself off of him and tried to walk away, but he grabbed my hand to explain we were soulmates."

"We actually came and talked in here," Patton said. "That's why I decided to bring you here to meet him, too."

Virgil smiled.

After a couple more hours, Virgil noticed Logan repeatedly glancing at his watch. His leg started to shake lightly and he'd regularly run his hand through his hair.

"You okay, Logan?" Virgil asked.

Logan hesitated for a moment before sighing.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must go now. I'll call you in the morning, okay?"

He got up and started putting on his jacket.

Patton frowned and followed.

"Hold on, please," Patton said once they walked out the door. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything is fine," Logan assured. He went to walk away, causing Patton to reach for his arm but quickly pulling his hand back when he saw Logan flinch away. Logan sighed.

"This situation has been a tad bit overwhelming, that's all."

Patton's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

Logan sighed again, this time more agitated.

"I just met my first soulmate a couple days ago, and now I'm already meeting another one. I do not exactly know what to make of all this."

Patton said nothing.

"I'm not sure what I expected. For us to immediately fall in love? For everything to work perfectly at the very beginning? I don't know what I expected, but those things didn't happen. "I am not the best at this whole 'emotion and romance' thing. You both seem like wonderful people and I'm sorry to disappoint, but I need some time to get adjusted to this whole soulmate and relationship idea."

Patton nodded. "O-of course. We'll see you soon, yeah?"

Logan nodded before walking away.

Patton took a shaky breath before grabbing Virgil's hand and quickly walking back towards his house.

Patton didn't say anything but by how often he wiped his eyes and his sniffling, it was obvious he was trying to keep from crying.

"I just don't understand!" Patton finally cried out once they got home. "We connected so easily. I don't know what went wrong."

"Patton."

"I mean, I get if he's nervous but why did he not connect with us?"

"Patton."

"We basically fell in love almost as soon as we met!"

"Did we, though?"

Patton froze.

"What?" he squeaked out.

'Can you say with one hundred percent certainty that the first time we said we loved each other that we truly did?"

"Of course! We-"

Virgil gently grabbed Patton's face.

"Really? Can you say we truly loved each other back then like we do now?"

"I-I-"

"We were more in love with the attention we received than each other. We barely knew each other."

Patton was quiet.

"I can say for sure that now I am crazy in love with you," Virgil said as he lifted Patton's chin so he could look into his eyes. "But we were young and lonely and desperate for anything, so we went way too quickly."

Patton took a shaky breath and nodded.

"You're right. Let's make sure we do it right with Logan this time."

Virgil leaned down to kiss him. He felt Patton take another shaky breath, and he knew tears were falling down Patton's face. He separated just to wipe the tears away before kissing him again.

Patton wrapped his arms around Virgil's chest and pulled him as close as he could, whimpering slightly as their bodies pushed against each other. Virgil moved his hands to Patton's hair, feeling Patton melt under him.

Eventually Patton pulled away, hair mussed up and pupils dark.

"I love you," Patton whispered. "So much."

Patton reconnected their lips and Virgil couldn't help push Patton against the wall, earning a surprised squeak from Patton that turned into a moan as Virgil bit his bottom lip.

"I love you, too," Virgil replied against Patton's lips in that husky voice that never failed to send shivers down Patton's spine.

Virgil's hands found their way around Patton's waist. Their kiss grew from fast and desperate to slow and gentle. Tears were falling down Patton's face again and at this point Virgil's arms were the only thing keeping him standing.

"I love you," Patton said softly between gentle kisses. "I love you I love you I love you."

"I love you, too," Virgil whispered back. "Let's sit you down, yeah?"

In one swift motion, Patton's legs were around Virgil's waist as he walked them back to the couch. He sat down with Patton straddling his lap, Patton immediately burying his head into the crook of Virgil's neck.

Patton took a shaky breath.

"Everything will be fine. Logan will be fine. We will be fine," Patton said, voice tired yet adamant.

Virgil couldn't see Patton's face, but he knew that Patton's eyes were bright with a passionate determination. Those eyes that let Virgil know everything was going to be okay.

The next day Logan did call. He apologized if he upset Virgil or Patton, and they responded with assurances that everything was okay.

Patton asked if he still wanted to go to the museum he mentioned a few days ago, and they could hear Logan's excitement over the phone.

Logan was busy with his parents that day, but they agreed that tomorrow they'd meet back at that cafe for lunch before going to the museum.

Patton was basically shaking with excitement after they hung up.

When tomorrow finally arrived, Virgil made him and Patton leave early due to his anxiety about being late. That combined with Logan's insistence on not being late to anything meant they met around thirty minutes earlier than scheduled - not that they minded.

"Heya, Logan!" Patton smiled as he sat down.

"Hello," Logan said as he put down his phone. "How are you two doing?"

During lunch, Logan was making a clear effort to get to know them, but he was still very clearly tense and uncertain of what he should do. This attitude continued as they climbed into Logan's car. Patton was trying to show Logan he could relax and everything would be okay, but Patton was growing desperate as time went on.

All that tension was gone once they walked inside the museum.

Logan quickly led them through and talked almost the whole time. Virgil and Patton could barely get a word in. He rambled about astronomy and physics and quantum theory and all these other things Patton and Virgil could barely understand. They rarely needed to read anything, as Logan would explain everything in greater detail than the plaques in front of them held.

While Patton and Virgil barely understood a word he said, they loved every second. His eyes had finally lit up and he seemed to relax. This was the Logan they wanted to know.

They stayed until closing. Logan drove Patton and Virgil back to Patton's house, and Patton invited Logan in. Logan hesitated, but agreed.

Logan sat on the couch with Virgil while Patton went off to go make tea.

"That was really fun," Virgil said as he shrugged off his hoodie.

"Yes," Logan nodded. "It was very enjoyable. Much more so than I expected," he admitted as he ducked his head. Virgil smiled.

"Hey, why can't you trust atoms?" Patton asked as he came in with mugs of tea.

"What?"

"Why, Pat?" Virgil asked.

"Because they make up everything!" Patton beamed. Virgil smirked as he brought his tea to his lips while Logan just stared.

"...What?"

"You'll get used to the jokes soon enough," Virgil promised.

After talking again for a couple more hours (this time the talking was much more balanced between the three of them), Patton offered to make dinner and was pleasantly surprised when Logan agreed to stay.

"And that's how I kept a cat in my room for a month without my mom knowing," Patton grinned.

"But you told me you were allergic to cats," Logan said incredulously. He and Virgil were sitting at the table while Patton cooked.

"I am," Patton said. "I just took a love of Advil."

"So what happened to the cat?" Virgil asked.

"She lives with my neighbor now."

"Wow."

Time passed far too quickly. Not long after dinner, Logan said he had to head home.

"Virgil's still in town for a few more days," Patton said as they stood in the front door. "Do you think you'd like to get together again?"

"I... I would like that very much," Logan said. "I enjoyed myself immensely tonight. I would like to apologize for my behavior yester-"

"Oh, hush," Patton interrupted. "You have nothing to apologize for. We know meeting your soulmate for the first time is overwhelming."

"We like a lot already, Logan," Virgil said. "Patton and I want to go at whatever pace you feel comfortable with."

Logan couldn't help the blush growing on his face. "I believe I can see myself growing quite fond of you two as well."

Patton beamed.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Logan said.

"Text me that you get home safe," Patton said.

"I will. Goodnight, Patton. Goodnight, Virgil," Logan replied before walking towards his car.

"G'night, Logan," Virgil said at the same time Patton called out "Goodnight!"

Virgil extended his stay by another week, but he did eventually have to go home.

Over that week, Virgil swore he was falling in love again. Logan was incredible.

He remembered feeling this excited giddiness for Patton, when everything was so new. The uncertainty of it all had been terrifying and yet so endearing at the same time. Virgil was ready to go on that journey with Logan - the wanting to know everything about this person, the wanting to grow to trust this person, and the wanting to have this person in your life.

That journey had been almost horrifying with Patton. They claimed they loved each other after only a couple of weeks. The two were so inexperienced they felt they had to say it out of necessity - that they had to because the universe told them so.

Now, two years later, Virgil knew he really did love Patton, and Virgil was ready to go along this journey right with Logan. Not going too fast, letting everything fall into place naturally.

Logan was smart, and he knew he was smart and was certain about nearly everything. He was blunt when speaking and never tried to hide his true opinions.

Virgil loved it.

While Virgil loved Patton dearly, he was always so optimistic and cheerful. And while that was by no means a bad thing, having a figure that was so sure and grounded soothed something inside Virgil that Patton's optimism couldn't.

They were two extremes that provided a balance Virgil hadn't been aware he needed.

It was perfect. Logan was perfect. Patton was perfect.

They were perfect.

92 notes · View notes

biaswreckingfics · 4 years

Text

No Limits: Part 8

Author: biaswreckingfics

Genre: Mafia AU - Warnings? Everything that goes on in a mafia AU

Word Count: 4.2k

Previous Chapter

Sehun's POV

Sehun could feel it the moment somebody had started following him. He didn't know how, but he assumed it was because of his prior training. He was already on edge thanks to his suicidal mission to help EXO, and he definitely did not need another person following him. He barely managed to get rid of the Baem member that had been following him.

Was it a coincidence that just minutes after he drops off his note to EXO someone had started following him? Could it be a member of EXO? Or did the Baem send more than one person to watch him?

He glances behind him to see who it was that was setting off his alarms. He saw workers, families, kids... and a girl running full force toward him. It couldn't be her though, could it? Why would a girl be following him, and why would she make it that obvious?

Still, the closer you got to him, the more his hackles raised. Something wasn't right.

He ducks around the next corner, which thankfully leads him to a nearly empty street, and comes to a stop. He readies himself for you to come around the corner, and it wasn't long until you did.

You came around the corner so fast, if he hadn't been prepared, you would've both been on the ground. Instead, you run directly into him and then step back with wide eyes. You clearly hadn't been expecting him.

He takes advantage of your disorientation and quickly wraps his hand around your throat. Surprise swept through your face before confusion and fear followed. It took only a couple of seconds for you to reach for his hand and attempt to pull him off of you.

"Who are you?" Sehun growls out.

He could tell you were trying to answer him or maybe trying to breathe because you looked like a gaping fish. A part of him felt bad for doing this, but he needed to find out who you were and fast. There was no time for games.

You were stronger than you looked, and his hand on you started to loosen, so he quickly throws you up against the brick wall next to him and brings his other hand up to your throat.

"Why are you following me?"

The fear on your face grows as your hands claw desperately at his. Sehun pushed away the guilt and worry he was beginning to feel and focuses on your hand reaching for his. There was something... oddly familiar about them...

His hold loosens minutely, as he stares at them, almost mesmerized. That annoying alarm in his head begins going off, just like it did when he remembered those numbers and the P.O. box... Something wasn't right...

"Sehun..."

You gasp out his name and startle him for a second. He looks back at your eyes, and he can tell you're beginning to lose consciousness. The fight your hands held was dimming, and your actions were slowing. His eyes are unwillingly drawn back to your hands, and suddenly he's transported to a different time and space.

He was standing at a sink... terrified thoughts about losing someone ran through his head... His hands were covered in blood that wasn't his... Someone was gently washing that blood away from his hands... He was feeling whatever had happened was all his fault, and he was barely holding on to his cool.

The memory became even more vivid as he could hear the worried voices of his brothers behind him, murmuring about Jongin. He remembered staring at the hands that washed the blood from his, and with a jolt, he realizes that those exact hands were weakly grabbing at his right now.

He slams back into the present and looks up at your face wildly. It was you. You were the one washing the blood from his hands in that memory... He knew you.

He let's go of you in shock and then dazedly watches as you drop to the ground like a doll. You immediately begin drawing in deep breaths and coughing as the air passes through your slightly damaged throat but even as you struggle to catch your breath, you attempt to stand back up.

Sehun drops down to your level and pushes down on your shoulders gently. "Don't try to stand up yet. You need a minute to recuperate."

You slowly nod as your rub your hands along your sore neck. You cautiously meet his gaze and search his face in confusion. Sehun avoids your scrutiny and glances down at his hands on your shoulder. With a shiver, he removes his touch from you and stares at his hands. He had just tried to kill you with them. He shouldn't be touching you in an attempt to comfort you with them.

Once you're able to breathe normally, you attempt to say his name, but he quickly shakes his head. It sounded like your throat was full of rocks, and it sounded very painful.

A wave of sadness overcomes him at the sound. He did this to you. He caused someone, that clearly cared for him, pain.

"It's me..." You cough out, even though Sehun tries to get you to stop. "It's Y/N."

The name sounds vaguely familiar, and while everything in him told him he could trust you, he still couldn't remember who you were.

It all clicked a moment later when he recalled the memory he had just had. Something had happened to Jongin... a member of EXO... and in those thoughts, he referred to EXO as his brothers... A moment later, your name ran through his head, and it dawned on him that you were the leader's sister.

"Y/N..." He quietly says, testing the name out like it's a new word.

What did all this mean? Why was he with EXO? Why was the leader's sister washing blood from his hands? Why did he care about something happening to Jongin?

Unless...

No... It was too far-fetched, wasn't it? Then again, with everything he was beginning to remember and what he had overheard the Baem leaders talking about... Maybe it wasn't...

Had the Baem been lying to him all this time?

Was he actually a member of their rival group? Was he a member of EXO?

He's brought back to the present by your panicked voice as you speak his name over and over again. He looks down at you as you get into a kneeling position across from him, almost like you're about to plead with him.

"Where have you been, Sehun?"

He watches your reaction closely as he responds. "I've been with the Baem..."

You close your eyes as a look of pain crosses your face, but then you open them again and meet his gaze. "Have they hurt you? Are you okay?"

He meets your questions with a look of confusion. He wouldn't even know how to begin to describe his thoughts to you.

"But if the Baem have you, how are you outside and alone right now?" You ask him in clear confusion as you look over his body for what he would assume were marks or wounds.

"I'm not alone... There are others here."

Panic washes over your face as you look over your shoulder and at the surrounding area. You quickly get up to your feet, pulling Sehun up with you. "We've got to go."

"I can't," he says as he stops you from pulling him back around the corner.

You stop and turn around to face him with an incredulous look. "What do you mean you can't?"

You stare at him like he's lost his damn mind... and he has.

"What are you talking about? You have to come home! To EXO. To Chanyeol. He's a fucking wreck without you, Sehun. He needs you to come back. We all do."

He can hear the sincerity in your words, and he knows you're telling him the truth, but he was so goddamned confused by everything. He didn't know what way was up or down at this point.

"When was the last time you saw me?" He curiously asks.

You meet his stare, and he can see the denial in your eyes. You knew something was seriously wrong here, but you didn't want to believe what you're brain was telling you. That Sehun had forgotten all about you and EXO.

"At the warehouse, remember? You were saving me... The Baem had kidnapped me..." Acceptance begins growing on your features as you quietly finish. "But you don't remember, do you?"

Sehun slowly shakes his head, and you gradually look down at the ground in devastation. The want to comfort you rises, but he makes no moves. He feels like he should apologize for not remembering, but he wasn't sure it would do any good.

Before either of you can say another word, he hears it... the call signal.

The Baem were coming.

He quickly grabs your arm and pulls you further down the block. You almost drag behind him at the suddenness, but your feet quickly catch up.

"Where are we going?"

"You need to hide." He responds, pulling up short when he notices an alley to his right.

He spots a couple of metal dumpsters and pushes you toward them, but you spin back around and immediately question him.

"Why am I hiding?"

"The Baem are here. They're signaling for me right now. You need to hide." He quickly tells you as he points towards the dumpsters.

Thankfully, you immediately get the hint and sprint to hide behind one of the giant metal bins. Once Sehun makes sure he can't see you, he walks back out of the alley and heads toward the whistling that's grown exponentially louder.

He tries to calm his racing heart and puts a causal mask back over his face. His thoughts, on the other hand, were frantic. Not only did he hope and pray that you stayed hidden, but now he had to not freak out because of the two things he had just learned.

He was not a Baem member, and he sure as hell didn't belong with them.

Y/N's POV

You stayed hidden behind the giant garbage bin as your thoughts tripped over themselves. What in the actual fuck was going on?

You steady your breathing and try to listen for any sounds, but the alley was like a wind tunnel. Noise traveled in from both entrances, and cars masked the sounds the pedestrians made.

Your throat fucking hurt and your body wanted to slump against the brick wall behind you in exhaustion but the alley walls were coated in a multitude of substances, none of which you wanted to touch, and the garbage bin was no better.

You drop down into a crouch and run your fingers through your hair as your mind still tries to process the situation. Sehun had no freaking clue who you were. There was absolutely zero recollection toward you or any of the words you had said to him. On top of that, he tried to fucking kill you. Even more, he was working with the Baem?!

What were they telling him? How were they able to keep this charade up? ... How were you going to get him back?

But... he couldn't be all the way gone... He knew enough to hide you from the Baem and to send EXO important information on them... and there was a small spark behind his eyes when you mentioned EXO and Chanyeol but maybe that was an illusion due to the lightheadedness you felt after being fucking strangled.

There was a way to get him back. You just had to figure out how.

After a few more minutes, you stand back up and cautiously make your way back down the alley. Once you emerge back onto the sidewalk, you suddenly feel like you're in a liminal space, like you had just walked out of a movie theater after being transported to another world.

After getting to the end of the block, you can no longer keep up the slow, cautious pace, and the need to get back to Minseok was almost unbearable, so you break out in a run. The looks the other people walking on the sidewalk threw at you didn't phase you one bit.

As soon as the car was in sight, you spot Minseok pacing frantically next to it while shouting orders at two of his men who waited next to it. It's only a couple of seconds later when one of his men notices you coming up the block and points you out to him.

Minseok spins around to look at you, and his blazing eyes cause you to slow down your pace. Oh... he was pissed, and you were about to be in so much trouble for just abandoning the vehicle and taking off by yourself.

He immediately begins walking towards you, shouting, "What the fuck were you thinking?!"

People around you look over curiously, and Minseok snaps his head toward them.

"Can I help you?!"

You quickly reach him and grab his arm before he can draw more attention to the two of you.

"You can be pissed at me all you want, but we need to get back to the house. Now."

"Jesus Christ, what happened to your voice?" He immediately questions, concern taking over the anger he once felt.

He searches your face for an answer before his eyes make their way down to your neck. He pauses as he looks at it, and then his hand slowly goes up like he wants to touch it to get a better look, but decides against it. You close your eyes and figure out exactly what he was seeing. Sehun must've left marks...

"What the hell happened?" He lowly asks.

"I don't know if you'd believe me if I told you..."

"Your neck is turning fucking purple, so you better tell me something."

You sigh and bring your hand up to rub your sore neck. You could only imagine the reaction your brother was going to have.

"I saw Sehun."

Minseok's eyes widen into saucers, and he starts throwing a million questions at you. Where? With who? Why wasn't he with you? It was all too much.

You throw your hands up in front of you in a stop motion and snap Minseok's name to get him to stop talking. Once he quiets down, you fill him in on everything that happened and what you suspected was happening. Minseok looked like he wanted to interrupt you multiple times, but he managed to hold everything in.

One of his men steps up to the two of you and gestures toward the vehicle with his head. "I don't think you should be having this conversation on the street."

In the excitement and shock of what happened, both you and Minseok had forgotten all of the rules in place to keep EXO safe and you guiltily look around to take in your surroundings before the two of you head back to the vehicles with his men following closely behind.

As you get into the car, you can't help but ask the one question on your mind. "Do you believe me?"

Minseok sighs and crumples back into the driver seat, then reaches his hand into his pant pocket and pulls out a slip of paper. He hands it over to you and turns his head to see your reaction, while saying, "I do."

You unfold the slip of paper and take in the string of numbers before you. 1248-94.

"What is it?"

"That," Minseok says while turning the car on and shifting the gear into drive, "is Sehun's emergency code."

The two of you speed home as you discuss what all of this was supposed to mean. Sehun had no memory of you or apparently who he was, but he could remember random numbers? He was working with the Baem, but he also hid you from them? You pondered and theorized the entire ride home until Minseok killed the engine in the driveway of the compound.

The two of you get out and spot Jongin and Baekhyun a little farther up ahead. You ignore the pang you feel in your heart as you see Baekhyun. Those feelings would have to wait. There were more important things going on.

"I thought all you had to do was check a box?" Jongin jokes. "Did you guys get lost on the way home?"

Neither you nor Minseok laughs as you approach the duo, and Baekhyun shakes his head before looking away.

"You know, it doesn't hurt to laugh or smile. In fact, I hear it's quite good for you." The youngest continues on, much to your dismay.

"If you had said something funny, I'm sure you would've gotten a reaction." Minseok replies as the two of you come to a stop in front of them.

Jongin goes to reply, but before he can, Baekhyun takes a step toward you. Your eyes are immediately drawn to him, but his eyes were glued to your neck. The anger on his face was clear, but when he raises his eyes to yours, you actually let out a gasp.

You had never seen such a murderous expression on someone's face before, and it literally stole your breath. Baekhyun looked beyond terrifying like he was ready to set the entire world on fire just to watch whoever had hurt you burn with it.

He reaches his hand up to touch your neck while growling out, "Who did this to you?"

Even though he looked like he was ready to stab everyone, his touch on you was still feather-light like a caress. It was enough to make you temporarily forget everything bad that had happened between the two of you.

Jongin steps forward to see what Baekhyun was fussing about, and when he spots your neck, the anger finds his way to his face as well.

"What the fuck happened?" He demands as he looks between you and Minseok.

"I'll tell you guys inside." You say as you turn away to head into the house, but Baekhyun's strong grip stops you.

"Tell me now." He gets out through his barely checked anger.

You turn to face him and grab his hand from your arm, firmly but carefully breaking his hold on you. "It'll be easier to tell everyone at once. Trust me."

You start the walk toward the house, and the three men quickly follow suit. It was quiet at first, everyone processing their own thoughts, but it doesn't stay that way for long.

"You know Junmyeon is going to kill you, right?" Jongin asks Minseok.

The eldest shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Is that optimism I hear?" Jongin jokes before pausing. "Actually, why does that scare me?"

You walk into the house and head straight for your favorite spot in the living room. The others could worry about grabbing the rest of the guys. You were going to take a minute to yourself before all hell broke loose.

As everyone begins filing into the living room, you make sure to hide your neck with your hair to the best of your abilities. Once everyone is there, your brother looks expectantly between you and Minseok.

"So, what'd you find?"

"You mean, besides the bruises all over your sister's neck?" Jongin chimes in when he notices your attempt to hide them.

Junmyeon looks at Jongin like he's trying to decide if the younger man is joking, but when he takes in the seriousness on Jongin's face, his gaze snaps to you. All of theirs do.

You let out a scoff as you shoot daggers at Jongin before gathering your hair and pulling it behind your head. Junmyeon's eyes bulge as he takes in the marks, and Yixing quickly gets up from the couch and comes over to examine your neck.

You cautiously look over at your brother while Yixing assesses the bruises, and you find the same murderous intent that was present on Baekhyun's face. Great. Now there were two of them.

"Are you having any trouble breathing or speaking?" You nod because you knew he was going to figure it out the second you started talking, and he looks at you in concern. "When this is over, come with me down to medical. You're going to want to ice that, and I want to make sure there's no real damage."

Once you tell him okay, he heads back to his seat, but his troubled gaze remains on you. Junmyeon, on the other hand, immediately turns on Minseok.

"How could you let this happen?! I literally just told you to keep her safe!" Before Minseok can respond, he turns to you. "Who did this to you?!"

You bite your lip. Seven expectant faces watch you, but your eyes fall on Minseok, who gives you a small nod.

"It was Sehun."

You could've heard a pin drop. An ant walking by would've made an actual sound. You almost began to wonder if someone paused the simulation with the way they all froze.

"What did you just say?" Chanyeol asks with a deadly calm.

"Are you seriously saying you not only saw Sehun but he strangled you?" Jongin quickly asks.

Jongdae gets his question in there before you can respond. "Are you sure it was Sehun? It wasn't someone who just looked like him?"

You give Jongdae a disgusted look as anger quickly rises in you, and in the most sarcastic voice you can muster, you say, "Yep. You're right. I forgot the person who literally had their hands around my neck as he tried to choke me to death. My bad."

"Okay. Everyone just hold the fuck on." Your brother shouts.

You run your hands through your hair in frustration. This wasn't going to be easy, and you knew that, but you didn't think that they would straight up dismiss the idea.

The sensation that someone was watching you sweeps over you, and you look over to see Chanyeol eyeing you intently. You meet his stare and wonder what thoughts were running through his head.

"I believe her because this," Minseok says to the group as he pulls out the note, "was put in the P.O. box around the same time."

Junmyeon takes the note Minseok held out to him and reads the numbers out loud. Once the last number comes out, the room explodes with questions, everyone talking over the other in confusion and excitement. It was chaotic enough to give you a headache.

You drop your head down into your hands to rub at the growing pain, like that would make it better, when a hard grip on your arm wrenches your hands away from your face. You look up in alarm and confusion to see Chanyeol's frantic face in front of you. His wild eyes searching yours as he demands to know what else happened with Sehun.

Before you can say anything in response, Chanyeol is ripped away from you and thrown up against the wall next to your chair. You watch with wide eyes as your brother squeezes the front of Chanyeol's throat, putting enough pressure on Chanyeol's vocal cords to cause the man to yell in pain.

"Don't you ever touch my sister like that again, Chanyeol, or I'll fucking kill you."

The parallels between what your brother was doing to Chanyeol and what Chanyeol's cousin had done to you were not lost on you, and you sat there with your mouth open in shock.

The rest of the guys quickly pull the two apart while you sit there frozen, and it takes a few moments for everyone to calm down.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..." Chanyeol sadly says in a weak voice.

"That's not good enough, Chanyeol." Junmyeon snaps at him.

Chanyeol, who had been dropped on the floor by the couch, nods his head and brings his knees up to his chest like he was trying to protect himself from the world. He looked so lost...

"I just don't get why Sehun would strangle you but then leave his help code... and where the hell has he been?" Jongdae asks.

"There's more to the story," Minseok says, giving you an opening to tell them what was going on.

One by one, the members all look over at you, even Chanyeol, who slowly raises his head to you with a wince as he sees the marks on your neck.

"Sehun..." You trail off, not knowing how to say it. "I think Sehun lost his memories..."

You're met with silence until your brother croaks out a "what?".

"He didn't remember me. When I brought up EXO and Chanyeol, he said nothing... He doesn't even remember the warehouse..."

The men slowly took in the information, each one of them silently trying to figure out how this happened. Your eyes find Chanyeol, who looks utterly devastated, and even though he was being a giant dick, your heart went out to him. Chanyeol did everything he could think of to try to find Sehun and bring him home, and when that failed, he lost himself. Now, he had just learned that Sehun didn't even remember him...

"That's not all... He's also working with the Baem."

Tagging: @knjkitten @kpopserene @multifandombxxch @tashaxvamp @kpop---scenarios @bhyunni @chanyeolismybaby @flaming-laboob @taetaeeyong @lilbitoflyssa @misstressporkchoppp @hoseok-wang @spiltkpop @isha454 @depuis2mille @marovekian1 @ladylynae @abby8451 @lynniev @insta1010 @sawadabegum @avxngxrrogxrs @equesasprokishi @imstuckinafictionaluniverse @layisanangel @mongryong-the-corgi @overthelamebowz @lizbether01 @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @nothingbutadeadesceane @kim-ji-hyeons-world @suhappysuho @futuremrspcy @lovebuginlove @skylions-den @precious-seungwooya @softysuho @kuppyjiminie @blushinyouth @bat-shark-repellant @vickylamore @heartshapedenchiladas @cardtak @tanithrea @wooya1224 @multifanstuff

163 notes · View notes

huntertales · 3 years

Text

Part Three: A Mother’s Love. (Bad Boys S09E07)

Episode Summary: When an old friend of Dean’s asks for help to solve a murder, Sam and the reader discover that the older Winchester as a secret past—one that will help solve the hunt. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,212.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

in the span of less than an hour the ambulance was back on the farm, this time, for an injury that couldn't be blamed as an unfortunate coincidence. One of the kids who'd been caught bullying Timmy was in the middle of doing his chores when disaster struck. The poor kid was screaming in pain when his fingers got caught in the blade of the blade of the lawnmower trying to retrieve whatever had caused it to jam in the first place. The thing to blame was a set of rosary beads that belonged to Ruth.

It was easy to think that one of the kids might have stolen them from the woman as a prank, only to try and discard the piece of jewelry when she ended up dead. And it just so happened to land on the exact spot where the kid went over with the lawnmower. All of that would have made sense—except the part where the mower turned on by itself.

The kid claimed it turned off the machine like he always did when something made the mower get jammed. His friend denied any responsibility of doing such a heinous thing when eyes shifted over to him. These kids were trouble makers, but you had a strong feeling they wouldn't do anything to the point of causing bodily harm to one another.

Sonny made sure the kid went off to the hospital safely while Dean handled the other distraught one and made sure the rest of the boys were doing all right after the chaotic morning they had. You wouldn't admit it right away, but you were a bit shaken up yourself at seeing someone so young in such pain after such a terrible accident. Luckily you helped manage to get everything back to a somewhat calm state around the home, allowing you to momentarily slip away to try and help Sam. You needed to find out what was to blame for the two deaths and freak accident. Something was murdering adults and mutilating kids. It was your job to find out who. Occasionally you hit dead ends and wrong turns, but you couldn't go down the wrong path in fear someone else might get hurt—or worse—dead.

You made your way up to Sonny’s office where you saw sitting on the other side of the desk reading through files after going through what seemed to be dozens, despite being pulled away not too long ago to help calm the chaos You helped lighten the load when you reached for a thick file of cases. What you needed right now was a distraction, some mind numbing task to help try and distract your mind. You let out a shaky breath as you sat down on the edge of the desk, needing a moment first before you dived straight in. Sam glanced up from the file he was reading to see you weren’t doing that well. He saw that look on your face many times before to know what you were thinking without needing to say it.

"You okay?" Sam asked in a concerned voice. All though he’d been around for the aftermath of things, stepping in to see what the chaos was about and watching as the kid was put into the ambulance, the sight of someone at such a young age with his hand wrapped in a dish towel soaked in blood was a disturbing sight in itself. He couldn't imagine how you and Dean were handling things.

"Not really." You admitted to him. You didn't want to fight your denial when it was clearly written on your face. "I've witnessed a lot of messed up things in my time. But what happened to that poor kid? Seeing him cry like that from pain? For some reason....I don't know. It struck something in me. Made me want to help him. But I couldn't."

"I know what you mean." Sam muttered to himself, quiet enough so he was the only one able to hear. Only that didn't see to be the case when you gave him a strange look from his response. He nodded his head to the files you were still holding. "He'll be okay. You know better than anyone getting fingers attached is possible. Why don't you help me continue looking through these files? There's got to be something in here."

You didn't know the extent of the kid's injuries just yet, but Sam's insensitive remark made a smile across your face at the truth. Medicine had come far. You picked a spot in the office to crack down on your pile of folders and quickly began to start reading through all of them. Going through everyone who had worked here or spent time at the farm was a tedious task. You didn't have the luxury of researching farther into the people's names other than the information Sonny kept over the years. You thought As you reached the last folder in your pile, you were starting to believe this might turn out to be a dead end. Sam, however, found something odd. The right kind of odd he was searching for.

You made your way out of your chair and back over to the desk when Sam called for your attention. You circled around and leaned down to hover over Sam's shoulder to read the file he was holding. Your eyes wandered to the photograph clipped to the top of the file. It was of a small boy with glasses. Someone who looked awfully familiar. A heavy sigh fell from your lips when you realized who it was. You'd been trying to find a reason why Ruth and Jack were killed, along with the kid who had been attacked not too long ago. They were all connected by one kid named Timmy. You figured out who to blame, you just needed to find out why. And how to put a stop to it.

Dean made his way up to Sonny's office after tending to the boys and taking a quick phone call from Sonny himself. You looked up from the file you still had been reading to see Dean. You gave him a worried expression from the heavy sigh that fell from his mouth first. "Kid's gonna need eight thousand stitches, but he'll be fine." The update on the kid was finally enough for you to let out a sigh of relief you’ve been needing to take, but your problem was only at the halfway point.

"That kid was bullying Timmy before the accident, right?" Sam asked you and his brother for clarification, wondering if the lead you and him had been discussing prior might turn out to be true. Dean nodded his head. You handed over the file to the older Winchester for him to read the documents for himself. "Check this out. Timmy was found in an abandoned building about a year ago all by himself. No one was sure how long he had been there."

"And what about his parents?" Dean asked.

"Well," You reached out to grab the file back from him after Dean handed it back over to you when he was done with it. The documents told him nothing of importance. "They posted a picture on the internet, but no one ever showed up."

"Then, what's he doing here?" Dean wondered. "Shouldn't he be in an orphanage?"

"He kept running away from Child Services." Sam said, explaining more of the situation to help paint a better picture. "So about three months ago, Sonny offered to take him in."

"All right, so hard-ass counselors, bullies, all bite the dust, but Timmy's still standing." It didn't take much sleuthing to figure out something was wrong here. You saw from the look on Dean's face he wasn't liking how things turned out. Whenever kids were involved in cases, it made things more complicated. Somehow Timmy was in the middle of all of this. The kid who appeared to be innocent, too nilave to do any real harm. Or so he might have led you all to believe. "So, what are we talking? We got ourselves a Damien on our hands?"

"No. EMF rules out a demon." You said, shaking your head. You thought for a few seconds of what might be to blamed for this. Something you've personally dealt with once before in your time. "So...my guess? Ghost possession."

"Meaning what, we find Timmy and shove a fistful of salt down his throat, forced ejection?" Dean questioned you about the right method to solve this problem. You shifted your gaze away from the way things were starting to look bleak. Dean didn't want to turn to that direction just yet. There had to be something else all of you could do before the drastic measure was the only option you had left. "One of you is taking the barn this time."

The both of you agreed to the plan without fuss. Sam decided to check out the barn for himself while you chose to stay close, heading upstairs, leaving the first floor to Dean. He checked a few rooms close by the office to see there was no one in them. He hoped to find Timmy hiding in the bedroom by himself, innocently playing with his action figure and minding his own business. The best thing for situations like this was to keep the kid calm. However Dean found himself veering off track at the sound coming from the living room. He took a few steps forward to the nearby room and poked his head in, discovering an old face he wasn't expecting to ever see again.

Sitting on the same couch was Robin from the diner, lost in her own world while strumming a few chords, warming up like how she always did before each lesson. Seeing her back again like this brought back another memory of this place. The first guitar lesson Robin had given him after their introduction back at the diner. Small talk turned into Dean answering Robin's questions about himself, things he normally gave half-ass answers to that he'd be asked in the next town. This time he gave more detail, more honesty.

Robin seemed interested to learn more about him as a person, more than most people their age cared to know. Most girls giggled at the smirk he mastered down and the mysterious persona he gave off. Almost none cared to know more than the surface level. Robin wanted to know more. She was curious to know the reason how he landed himself here and why he moved around so much. She asked about the family business, not what it was, but if Dean liked it. The conversation opened up a topic Dean never really was able to discuss before with people, especially ones his age. Himself.

Most of the time Dean lied to avoid small talk about his personal life. No one truly cared to listen to his problems. Robin wanted to. Dean quickly learned she was a great listener. He told the truth to her that day. He didn't like it. But over time he learned it was going to be his future at some point when his father deemed him ready. Someone had to keep the business going after he….retired. Robin empathized. Her waitressing job at her father’s diner was a stepping stone into her taking over the place after she was ready. Both of them bonded over fathers who wanted their children to follow in their footsteps.

Robin declared she was going to be a photographer. She wanted to explore the world, eat all sorts of crazy foods. Dean's first response was that he wanted to be a rockstar. A stupid reponse when he didn't even know how to play an intstrument. He replied with a more realistic answer that sounded reachable, something he thought about from time to time. A mechanic seemed reachable and interesting, despite the lack of enthusiasm from Robin when she called it rough work. She didn't see it the way Dean did. Cars were like puzzles. He could pick them apart and put them back together, a problem that could leave and not be his responsibility anymore. After that answer, Robin did something he wasn't expecting. She kissed him. Dean would deny the way it took him off guard and how she was able to make him blush. It appeared to be the beginning of a possible relationship.

At the age of sixteen everything feels like it's going to last forever. The world seemed refreshing and exciting compared to the small town Robin grew up in. Things between the two slowly began to blossom into something more than the few secret making out sessions on Sonny's porch that were supposed to be for guitar lessons. Dean remembered they were supposed to go on a date. Robin's heart was set on it. She was so excited, holding onto Dean's promise that he wasn't going anywhere…

"Oh. Hey." Robin greeted the man after spotting him standing in the doorway, stopping her strumming when she realized he was lost in thought. "What happened to you at the diner? I turned around to take your order, and you were just gone."

“Long story.” Dean replied. “Have you seen Timmy?”

"No, not yet, but he should be here any minute for his guitar lesson." Robin said.

"Yeah, we're gonna cancel that." Dean told her. She looked back up from her guitar and gave him a confused expression, obviously taken back by the sudden shift in plans. "We got to get out of here, okay? I don't have time to explain. You just got to trust me.”

"Trust you?" Robin quietly scoffed at his words. She set the instrument down by her side and gave the man a look, expressing how she was feeling. The emotions she was trying to hide back at the diner after seeing him after all these years. "And why would I do that again?"

Dean’s expression changed at the realization of her subtle confession. “You do remember me.”

“How could I forget?’ She whispered to him.

Dean felt a pang of regret at the sound of her voice, the hurt she was unable to hide anymore. He broke his promise of never leaving her. At the time it felt like the worst thing to ever happen. Being a teenager heightened emotions to the most extremist of levels. Over the years she learned to deal with it. She wasn't hurt about him leaving abruptly. It was that he never tried getting in contact with her. He never wrote, never tried to call.

Over the years she got over it, forgot about it entirely and continued on with her life. Until she saw him in the diner, with the same damn smile that drove her crazy. Dean stirred up the same emotions he brought out in her when she was sixteen, there was no denying that. Along with the slight twinge of jealousy at seeing a strange woman sitting by his side. The both of them obviously moved on, but in the moment, Robin was overcome with too many emotions to process. It was easier to play pretend than tell him how she truly felt about their unexpected reunion. But she couldn't bite her tongue any longer.

"There were reasons why I had to leave." Dean tried to explain himself vaguely as possible, knowing he owed her a proper answer. At the moment they didn't have such luxury. There were more important things in the matter. "I don't have time to explain it to you right now. I got to get you out of here."

"Hey!" Robin shouted in anger when Dean grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her off the couch, dragging her to the front door against her will. "What are you doing?!"

Dean hoped he might be able to get her out of the house before it was too late. He was merely inches away from the open front door before some invisible force slammed it shut. The man knew better than to try prying it open. "I'm sorry."

Dean and Robin quickly turned around to see the little boy they both were expecting to see any moment now, Timmy. He stood there with a guilty expression from what was about to unfold. “Sorry about what, Timmy?” Dean asked him.

“I can’t stop it.” He said.

Dean flinched while Robin let out a terrified yelp when a vase crashed against the wall from behind them, spooking them from the nightmare that was about to unfold. Chaos unfolded around them when Dean instruced Robin to head to the kitchen, trying to get them to avoid the flying debris of breakable objects and furniture the ghost was controlling. Dean grabbed an iron poker from the fireplace set for an extra precautionary move in case whoever was responsible for this tried to show their face.

You came running down the stairs when you heard the commotion unfolding, calling out the older Winchester's name in a panicked tone. You narrowly missed a lamp flying in your direction when you saw the man standing in the dining room with Robin fleeing for the kitchen. All around you things were breaking and shattering, telling you the ghost was pissed as hell. Everyone needed to get out of here before it was too late.

Victory of an escape seemed attainable when Sam arrived back from the barn, using the backdoor instead. Dean tried to instruct his brother to leave it open long enough for Robin to escape, only it sealed shut the second after the younger man stepped inside. Much as Sam tried to somehow get the door to budge even the slightest, you could tell it was locked. The ghost wasn't going to let you go anywhere. But it didn't mean you were screwed just yet. You raced to the cabinets, frantically searching for salt before you found a box.

"Circle." You instructed the younger Winchester, tossing him over the box.

"Dean, what—" Robin stuttered slightly with her words while trying to form a complete sentence. Everything she was witnessing was too much for her to process. The panic on her face was clear as day. You knew Sam pouring salt on the ground wasn't helping the situation currently unfolding around her. "What just happened in there?”

"Okay, listen to me." Dean spoke to the woman in an eerily calm voice, giving her clear instructions on how to handle the situation if she wanted to make it out of here alive. "Whatever happens, you stay inside this circle. Understood?"

"All right." Sam stood back up after making a circle big enough for Robin to fit comfortably inside, and the rest of you if need be. He turned his head at the exact moment to see Timmy standing there again. "Guys..."

“I can’t control her.” Timmy said.

“Can’t control who?” Dean questioned the kid.

"Your mom, right?" Sam guessed the right answer before Timmy could. You furrowed your brow slightly from the person who was responsible for all of this. It seemed Sam found something in the barn his brother didn't. The younger man made his way over to Timmy and crouched down so he was now at eye level. "Timmy, listen. We need you to tell us about the fire, okay?"

Sam found a wall full of disturbing drawings that were clearly done by a child. All of it told a story, the one about how Timmy lost his mother and became an orphan. "It was late, and we were driving home when we crashed in the woods. Everything was on fire. But she saved me, she pushed me out...before the car blew up...with her in it."

Your heart broke for the poor kid when you listened to the story of how he became an orphan. The way he lost his mother was traumatic enough on someone his age, but having to witness it as well only added more pain. Sam knew the kid wasn't the one responsible for all of this. Possession felt to be out of the question. A ghost was haunting Timmy, following his every move since the accident. Protecting him from any dangers she thought fit. "But that's not all, was it?"

"I ran through the woods. I found an empty building, where I hid. I was scared. It was dark and cold. So I cried. I cried for my mom." Timmy continued on with the rest of the story, helping paint a more broader picture of how all of this came to be. Slowly the pieces were starting to come together. "And she came."

"But she had changed, right?" Sam asked. He remembered how the drawings Timmy made slowly turned strange and slightly disturbing near the end. His mother turned into a dark figure that loomed over her child, a monsterous guardian destroying any possible threats.

Timmy nodded his head to answer the man’s question. Your eyes wandered down to the action figure he always seemed to be holding. A smile stretched across your lips from the question you asked him. "I'll bet she gave you that cool action figure, huh?"

"Yeah." Timmy said, looking down at the toy. "When I turned nine."

"Timmy..." Sam captured the boys' attention again when he figured out what was anchoring his mother's spirit after all. Your eyes darted over to her spirit when she appeared out of thin air. What remained of her body after the explosion left her severely burned and disfigured. "I'm gonna need that action figure."

Before the younger Winchester could try and put an end to this nightmare, Timmy's mother struck first, throwing Sam across the room. You called out the man's name in a panicked tone while Dean struck the ghost with the iron poker he grabbed for this exact reason. You were given precious seconds to snatch the toy from Timmy when he wasn't suspecting it and went straight to the oven. The kid let out a shout of protest from what you were doing, the only gift he had left from his mother was being destroyed right in front of his eyes. Dean pushed the kid into the circle with Robin to keep him safe. You turned on one of the burners to the highest setting and dropped the action figure into the small flames. All of you watched as the hunk of plastic began to slowly melt, Bruce shouting his catchphrase over and over again until his recorded voice slowly faded into silence.

You made the wrongful decision in letting out a sigh of relief a little too early, thinking you solved the problem for good. Only you pissed off the spirit even more. You realized your potentially fatal mistake when you felt a gush of wind come out of nowhere, destroying the circle of salt, leaving Robin and Timmy vulnerable to a mother's wrath. If she wasn't pissed off before at you, she sure as hell was now.

"It looks like it wasn't the action figure that was anchoring her here, guys." Sam pointed out the obvious, making you roll your eyes in frustration.

"Then what is?!" You questioned him.

Sam thought for a second of what else might be keeping the woman's spirit here longer than it was intended. His gaze fell upon a scared Timmy. The kid who was innocently to blame for all of this from the things he said that night. "Him."

Most of the time when you dealt with spirits the only way they could keep from passing over to the afterlife was their body or some kind of object they were able to attach themselves to. Clearly none of those were an option. Sam figured that you might be approaching this all wrong. Your object was inanimate, it was a living breathing human boy who cried for his mother to come back. The boys stepped over to the oven to quickly discuss this and how you were going to be able to solve this.

"You know what? I think maybe his mom can't let go and she's still protecting him from the grave." Sam whispered loud enough for you and Dean to hear, sharing his possible hunch.

"Protecting him from what?" Deana asked. He thought back to the victims that died at the hands of the woman. All people who made Timmy's life uncomfortable. The pattern was repeating itself again for you. "What, from us?"

"It makes sense." You said. "Maybe she doesn't know what threats are real and what's not, so she just attacks all of them."

"Great." Dean muttered. He figured there was only one way out of this, one that was dangerous and stupid. Nothing he would ever be able to go through with. "So, what, unless we waste the kid, we're sitting ducks?"

Robin must've overheard what Dean said about potentially hurting a child that didn't do anything wrong. Her mind was still trying to process how doors were able to slam shut on their own and objects flying around the room. She was pushed to her breaking point. You looked over in Robin's direction when you heard her mumble something to herself before darting out the door when she had the chance. Dean called out the woman's name in a frustrated tone and followed after, hoping he might be able to catch up to her before it was too late.

You and Sam decided to focus your attention on Timmy, figuring you might be able to help make the kid understand better what was going on. You approached the kid and kneeled down to his level after he sank to the ground, thinking if you were at a better eye level he might listen to you better. You gave him a warm smile and tried your hardest to get him to at least consider putting a stop to this once and for all.

"Timmy, we're gonna need your help, okay?” You told him in a calm, almost neutering voice. You thought of you approached this like you were a parent yourself, hoping you might be able to fool his mother you meant no harm. Timmy barely made eye contact with you. "Listen to me. I need you to focus, okay. We are not here to hurt you. I promise."

His mother didn't believe in your words. She did what she thought was best for her child, destroying the threat she thought was trying to harm him. You and Sam found yourselves being thrown across the room to get you far away from Timmy as possible. Dean rushed back into the kitchen to see you and his brother were in trouble. But before he could try and help, Timmy's mother struck again, tossing his body where a table broke his fall and crushed underneath the man's weight. All of you struggled to somehow try and break free from the woman's grip she had on all of you. The one person who could put an end to all of this only looked at the chaos unfolding around him, still unsure of what to do. If he was even able to anymore.

"I can't stop her." Timmy whispered with an almost apologetic tone to his voice.

“Timmy, you have to try!" Dean told the kid. He tried to reach the kid on a more emotional level to pull out the strength he knew Timmy had. Force the kid to grieve his pain and move on from the past. While the grip Timmy's mother had around his body was making it painful to breathe, even almost impossible to talk, Dean persevered. "She came to you when you cried out for her. Now you have to tell her to stop and go away!"

"She's my mom." Timmy said. He sounded fearful to stand up to the woman who had only tried protecting him. Saying goodbye to her after all she did felt wrong. He thought he would be all alone for good. No one to care for him, no one to love him. And to protect him from the bad things in the world.

"She's a ghost, Timmy, because she can't move on, she's going crazy. Okay? You got to let her go. You'll be okay." Dean tried to reassure the kid that what he was about to do was the right thing. Timmy was still hesitant. His mother lashed out harder, trying to silence the three of you from making her son do something he didn't want to. "Listen to me. Sometimes you gotta do what's best for you, even if it's gonna hurt the ones you love."

Timmy forced himself to at least listen to what Dean was saying. He hesitated for a few seconds before he pushed himself up to his feet. He adjusted his glasses before he spoke up, finally doing what needed to be done. "Mommy...stop it." His voice came off timid and too quiet, causing his command to go unnoticed by his mother. Dean managed to use what breath left in his lungs to remind the kid of the trick he taught him when they first met. A Kung Fu grip. All he needed to do was be more firm. "Mommy, stop it! You're hurting people!"

His words seemed to have done the trick. The grip around your body suddenly vanished, letting you and the boys finally inhale the much needed air you were deprived from. Timmy's mother turned around to face her child. Despite the heinous things she had done, she believed it was the right thing to do. It was all out of love. She opened up her arms and gave her son a smile, a sad smile that begged him not to let her go.

"You have to go. Never come back. I'll be okay. I promise." Timmy comforted his mother. It was the words that needed to be said, not only for himself, but for his mother as well. Both of them needed to properly heal from the tragic night. Slowly, the wounds from the terrible night faded away, leaving Timmy's mother back to the way she always looked. She wanted the last image he'd ever have of her the proper one. She gave him one last painful smile. "I love you, too."

No parent who loves their child wants to leave them against their will. They want to protect them, shield them from the dangers of the world. But Timmy proved to his mother that he was going to be fine. He stood up for himself. All of you watched as Timmy's mother slowly vanished out of your sight, finally letting go and passing over into the afterlife. A moment like this was bittersweet. Timmy was finally able to do what he never could before. But it cost him the chance to ever see his mother again.

Timmy suddenly ran over to Dean, the one who helped him through all of this. A smile crept across your face at the sight of the man embracing Timmy into a tight hug. He understood the pain of losing a parent. No matter the age, it hurt knowing you were alone in the world. Dean patted the kid on the back and whispered to him that everything was going to be okay.

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha // �� @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink // @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans // @icantfindacreativeurl // @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat // @romanovanoffsstuff // @underthestarrsss

Message me if you would like to be added!

26 notes · View notes

blackberry-gingham · 3 years

Text

Mermaid reader x teddy!Beatles part 2!

John and George over here!

Paul

Somehow, Paul makes it home with all his Dad's things without being caught

Truly, it's a miracle

But it's not all thanks to avoiding his dad's wrath that he can't believe he's alive...

Whenever he gets some good, quality alone time, he takes out your scale and just admires it

You were beautiful in the moonlight of course, but somehow this scale alone is even more gorgeous in the light of day

This particular scale has a green and blue iridescence to it, and it's the most lovely thing he's ever seen

He honestly feels like he can see a different hue in it every day if he turns it juuuust right

And of course, it is nice to have on hand

Paul assumed you were just using a turn of phrase when you told him it was "for luck"

But it would seem he was mistaken...

Now he doesn't have many stories to tell, but last week there was a calculous test he absolutely was supposed to fail

And yet... He got a B+

A B+ !!!

That's never happened before, even if he did study

Then there was another time he won a nice lot of cash at billiards...

And the time he found a brand new free bus punch pas on the ground...

His dad sure was pleased at that one

He's even been noticing some improvements in his bass playing, particularly on the few times he tried using the scale as a pick

All these thoughts swirled in Paul's mind as he lays awake in bed

He's been so fortunate lately, and it's all thanks to you and your gift

If only he could just thank you...

He feels like it's the least he owes you

Especially considering he accidentally snagged you on a fishing line for your first meeting...

That's it. He's going to do it!

Paul turns over in his bed with a grin plastered to his face as a plan to sneak out to the lake formulates in his mind

He doesn't get the time to actualize said plan until a few days later however

Not ideal, but manageable

He decides on the same plan as last time: late at night, when no one is around

But it isn't until he's arrived at the pier that he realizes he hasn't considered how he'll get in contact with you

Paul paces back in forth in the dark

What to do, what to do...

First he decides to skip some stones

Hopefully none of them hit you, but perhaps disturbing the water will get your attention

When that doesn't work, he settles for something a little more rudimentary

Paul takes as deep a breath as he can, and yells a long "hello?" across the water

He waits a few moments and assumes it didn't work, so he winds up for a second go

As if on cue, you pop up from below the waves with an agitated look on your face first

"Do you mind? Us normal people are trying to sleep!", You whisper yell

But then, you gasp, upon finally recognizing him

"You again?"

Paul jumps a foot in the air, quite startled by your sudden appearance

But he gets his wits about him soon enough, and he drops to his hands and knees, "Yeah, I've been looking for you!"

You give him a sideways look, but Paul cuts you off before you can pose a question

"Before you get upset! I um, I wanted to say... Thank you! You know, for the scale!"

You look at him as though you haven't a clue what he's talking about, then the memory comes back to you

"Oh, um... Sure?"

"No no, you don't understand! All these wonderful things have happened for me and my family, and I- well, we're a bit bad off, so really I-I can't thank you enough! I thought the least I could do was come back and say it"

Your face softens at that

Not many people would consider giving thanks for a mermaid’s gift, they seem to much rather just enjoy the profit

“Of course, uhm...?”

“Oh, Paul!”

You smile at last and tell him your name out of courtesy

“Wow, that’s a lovely name! It suites a pretty bird like you, if you don’t me saying”

Paul gives you a wink, and you laugh in surprise

You assume it was a one off thing, especially as you part soon after having a short chat, but...

He comes back a few more times on separate nights to meet with you and tell you about the latest goings on

And of course, squeezing in his flirting game here and there

At first you're not sure

After all, you've done this song and dance plenty of times before, and things never seem to work out

But Paul is kind, and charming, and polite...

So many things you've yet to experience from a human

Eventually, Paul starts visiting you from a different point on the edge of the lake in order to spend better time together

It’s in the forest, away from the prying eyes of others

This allows him to visit you at all different hours, which gives him far more freedom to see you often

And before you know it, he brings you little gifts, like offerings, whenever he can spare something nice from his good fortune

“You know, we had our first ever gig last night... They loved us! We already have another one lined up!”

Paul talks excitedly, while you rest and listen on the little blanket he’s set out for you both

“That’s wonderful, Paul! Congratulations”

“Yeah, thanks!”, Paul clears his throat and looks away demurely. “It’s all thanks to you, ya know...”

“Oh I don’t know about that, you’re very tal-!”

“No, really it is... I um, I haven't told you this, but I've been using your scale as a pick for my bass here and there and... there's just something, magical about the sound it makes..."

He braces himself a bit, expecting you to feel indignant, no matter what his explanation

But instead you laugh, amazed to hear that it can do that too

And if course, touched to know that a piece of you was able to be with him for such a big event

So, Paul continues his story, "And I mean, the amount of coincidences that had to happen just for us to get in, let alone get another one lined up is too much for chance...”

He laughs casually, then gives a little stretch before putting his calloused hand over yours

Paul almost expects you to flinch or pull away, but... Nothing happens

No, you continue to look at him, a gentle, blissful smile gracing your face

Taking a little risk, he gently strokes the back of your palm

He speaks again, his voice dropping to a bit of a hush so that only you can hear “Not to mention I wouldn’t even have applied for the place if you wouldn’t have encouraged me to, heh”

"Well... I suppose all that's true...", You lean in a little closer to him, resting your head on his leather clad shoulder

Paul nudges your hair with the tip of his nose, with a playful smile, "Now, if only I could think of a way to thank you..."

You pick your head up and smile mischievously back at him

By now, you've begun to enjoy his cheesy little flirts

You glance from his eyes to his lips and back again, "Hm, I might be able think of something..."

Paul bites his lip and gives a toothy grin, leaning in slowly

Not missing a beat, you meet him halfway, gently closing the gap between you

And you soon decide, it's the best thank you you've ever received...

Well, right next to the one that came after it

Ringo

Ever since that day on the docks, Ringo can’t get you out of his mind

He thought for sure he was dead

In fact, he would’ve been for sure if you hadn’t saved him

He owes you his life

All he wants to do is see you one more time...

There was so much he wanted to say before you swam off

So here he is, alone at the abandoned dock for the third time this week

It’s about noon on a Saturday right now

The sun is warm and bright above while the ocean waves lap peacefully to and fro below

Ringo is still nursing several bruises from the last time, and as much as there’s a risk he’ll take another beating, he’s willing to take his chances

Of course, no sooner has the thought crossed his mind, then do the sounds of three familiar boots stomp up the old wood planks behind him

“Starkey! ‘Aven’t you learned you lesson yet?”

“Yeah, this is our dock!”

The boys taunt and threaten, as they approach Ringo once again

This time, he tries to take a stand

Unfortunately, any words he tries to say are washed out by the sudden rushing of the tide behind him

Then, by the laughing and jeering of the other gang

"Wha's that? Can't 'ear ya!"

Another round of mocking laughter, and suddenly Ringo feels about 2 feet tall

When the boys start to calm down, the leader of the teds gets very serious and sheds his jacket before handing iit to one of the others

" 'old this, don't want to soil it..."

But Ringo can barely hear them over the sound of the water

Is it high tide already?

The leader hardly takes a few steps forward before stopping at the curious sight of a sudden, large shadow

All the boys look up to see a massive, tsunami sized wave arcing up and over the edge of the pier

Just as soon as it arrived, it comes crashing on top of the other teds

Hundreds of pounds of water lay them flat against the wood, and by the time they're able to catch their wits and stand, they turn tail, leaving Ringo all alone

Ringo, who is perfectly unharmed...

The remaining pool of water dribbles off the edge of the pier, providing a little something for Ringo to focus on while he tries to collect his own wits

Just then, a gentle tap comes at his lower back, causing him to whip around

Your eyes are just barely peaking over the ledge when you whisper, "Are you alright?"

A great weight feels lifted off of him, as Ringo turns fully to face you

"Me? Fine! D-did you do that?", He nods over his shoulder, breathless, but excited

You smile and nod, "It's a bit... tiring... But it was worth it"

Know that he's calmed down a bit, you do sound a little out of breath

"Oh... Well, thank you... Really, I mean it!", he pauses, and then, "Say, do you want to rest a minute? Maybe on the shore? I can watch and make sure no one bothers ya!"

You're about to interject, maybe tell him he doesn't have to do that, but there's something about the look on his eyes that tells you he's not offering just to be nice

So instead, you agree, and Ringo meets you shortly amongst the brush and the rocks just a stone's throw from the pier

He takes a seat on a rock, as a wave gracefully deposits you on the sand

You crawl a short distance to a rock of your own and prop yourself up on it, enjoying the time to rest

As you get settled, Ringo can't help but admire you

He's focused on your tail and all the intricate, shimmering scales and fins that adorn it

Of course, you notice his staring, "...Does it bother you?"

Ringo snaps out of his daydream, "Huh? Oh, uh no! Not at all!"

He scratches the back of his head, and ducks down a bit

Even behind his scraggly beard, you can see a little blush

"Sorry... I um, I just think you're pretty..."

You're not sure why, but that makes you blush a bit too

You've been told that a thousand times before by humans, sailors, and mermen alike

But when Ringo says it, there's something more... innocent to it

Like a childhood crush, or a romance that blossoms between two close friends

"Oh... Thank you...", is about all you manage to get out

Ringo runs his fingers through his hair, trying to fix it up a bit, "My name's Ringo, by the way... Er, no, actually it's Ritchie, but me friends call me Ringo"

He holds up his hand and shows you a collection of various and intricate rings as though to justify his statement

They glint and gleam in the sun, all the various metals and gemstones like a kalidascope to your eyes

Ringo notices how transfixed you are, and feels a bit encouraged

Perhaps he hasn't scared you off just yet...

He takes a gamble, "Would you like to see them up close?"

You refocus onto him, "Well... If you wouldn't mind, sure!"

Your tail gives a swish behind you, betraying you and your excitement

Ringo hops up and over to your rock and takes as seat right beside you

The proximity startles you a bit, but he seems so excited to show off his collection to you, that you forget all about it

He splays out his hand for you to see, and you end up holding it in yours while he points to the details of each ring, telling their stories

His hands are rough and callused, with a bit of soft hair coming in around his knuckles

They're a bit bigger then yours still, which you find a little humorous

He's like a puppy that's growing into it's adult body, with his short stature yet large hands and ears and eyes...

Now that you mention it, they're just so blue...

"And this one, I- Uhm, are you alright?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry! I just- ahem. You're eyes... They're so pretty"

With your free hand, you gently caress the very edge of his eye socket then give the bridge of his big ol nose a few playful scratches

Ringo's heart leaps in his chest and a gleeful smile slowly spreads throughout his face

See, he's not like John or Paul... They have birds all over them

And what does he get? Teased. Ignored. Sometimes flat made fun of...

So to have such a beautiful woman as you take even a little fancy to him...

He's over joyed

The rings are immediately forgotten, and you tell him a bit more about what you like about him

You like the hair on his face... What is that called?

You like his smile, and the way he laughs...

And yes, you do like his nose, since he asked

Ringo feels like he's floating on a cloud. The genuine affection he's getting from you right now is beyond anything he ever dreamed of

He has to say something...

With a little clearing of the throat, Ringo gathers up how confidence to take oneore chance for the day

"So erm, is there... anyone waiting for you? You know, back there?", You nod towards the infinite sea

You look away, a sad smile tugging at your lips, "No, not really... Why?"

Ringo can feel his heart hammering now, and he takes his chance

"Well I was just wondering..."

He slips one of his precious rings off and hold it out to you

"If maybe you'd like to see each other... M-more often?"

Your eyes light up, and you realize that yes, yes you would like to do that...

He's estatic to hear it, and to seal the deal he slips his ring on your finger

For safe keeping, he says

And before you both part ways for the day, you make sure to give him his first, little kiss

#the beatles #ringo starr x reader #paul mccartney x reader #mermaid!reader #beatles x reader #beatles imagines

30 notes · View notes

thevoidcannotbefilled · 4 years

Text

Web!Martin.... Oh boy. Gonna shake the hornet’s nest with this one, but I’ve spent like three days on this editing and re-editing, and I’m finally satisfied with my kind of an essay at this point.

So, here’s a deep dive as to why I think Web!Martin has merits. (Scroll to the bottom of my essay for my TLDR).

Introduction

First, to get some stuff out of the way:

Do I think Martin is a sleeper agent? Do I think that he has been manipulating Jon this entire time or even in just season 5 for the games of the Web? Do I think he's a bunch of spiders in a Martin suit? Do I think he's regards the Mother as his Mother and accepts that he is her Son? Is Martn actively Webby?

No. Absolutely not. None of the above. The Martin we know is the Martin we began with, just with a bunch of trauma and has gained the ability to set his boundaries.

I find the idea of sleeper agent Martin or something similar to be very counterintuitive to the overall narrative. Not only is TMA about choices, and to have Martin be a sleeper agent would be to deny all of Martin's choices this season in particular, but it doesn't really lead to much. At best it's a gotcha and a surprise at worst it's making literally every interaction between Jon and Martin, with Martin himself, and so on mean nothing for the sake of one twist and make it sad. It's not fun in long term, and so at the end of the day, I trust Jonny and Alex as writers more than that. (Plus we already did the "person is replaced" thing).

Does Martin being a manipulator actively mean that he is a Web avatar?

Short answer, no.

Long answer, I made a post awhile back, and while it was for fandom things, I think it applies well here. What power you choose to align yourself with isn’t necessarily something you’d fully commit to. It is just, if you were an avatar and willing to hurt others for your own gain, what would you find yourself most aligned with. What I mean by that, just because Martin lies and manipulates doesn’t mean that he is Web, however, manipulation is a tool does fit well with the Web, and if he were to choose to align himself to that, I think he could be Webby. However, he is not necessarily a Web avatar because he has no motivation to hurt people.

That being said I do think Martin would be a good fit for the Web if he wanted to be, and I think there will be a point in the narrative that there is a potential that he could become one, even if he does not necessarily choose to be in the end.

Let’s talk about it.

Evidence

I think the best way to describe Web!Martin on my end is this: if Martin had an inclination to be an avatar, he would be the Web because everything from his aesthetics to his skillsets line up with the Web, but he does not have any reason to be Webby and in fact, at the very least as of MAG169, should actively be against the Web’s goals.

But that doesn’t mean his connection to the Web hasn’t been heavily foreshadowed or built up. Not all of these are of the same level, I admit that, so I’m just gonna bold the ones that are the most important. These aren’t in any particular order.

-For season 1 subtext, said he liked spiders In This First Appearance MAG22, in MAG38 Jon says that Martin gives them lectures on the importance of spiders for the environment, and MAG39, “it’s just that whatever web these statements have caught you in, well, I’m there too.”

-IN MAG79, his poem has a line in it that goes, “"the threads of people walking, living, loving" which is very Web-like.

-During the Web statement he read in season 3, he said “that wasn’t so bad, actually!” (MAG110) when he finished after showing open disdain for the others he read. The only other statement he didn’t think was bad to read was the Lonely one (MAG108), a power he canonical has ties to.

-The only person in the show so far of the main cast that has had direct contact with Annabelle Cane. The only other people that have had contact with her are her victims (Creature Feature, MAG110) or her people she used as tools (Web Development, MAG123).

-Let himself be guided to put the tapes on top of the coffin when the tapes, which have shown a direct association with both the Web and the Eye.

- Martin’s “lo-fi charm” and “retro-aesthetic” (various) versus Annabelle “She dressed like a vintage clothing store exploded on her” (MAG69)

-Uses lying and manipulation as his main tactic against people and is acknowledged that manipulation is a skillset of his. By Jonah mostly, but he was able to successfully manipulate both Peter and Jonah.

-In MAG117, he said "I’m not afraid for me, though. Isn’t that weird? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to be safe, like my plan’s not dangerous, but it’s, it’s mine. This last couple of years, I’ve always been running, always hiding, caught in someone else’s trap, but, but now it’s my trap, and, well, I think it’ll work. I know, I know it’s not exactly intricate, but it felt good weaving my own little web." and he then added after it with "oh good lord is Martin becoming some sort of spider person', no, Jon, just an expression.”

-Martin having a bad relationship with his mother versus Mother of Puppets.

-The Web and the Desolation actively dislike one another (MAG139), and fire is Martin’s most hated pain (MAG169).

-Martin is the primary investigator in Recluse (MAG59), Arachnophobia (MAG16), and was the one to find and give the Cracked Foundation (MAG114) to Jon. All of which are Web statements.

-The delivery of the table and the lighter were technically both given to Martin since he was the one who talked to Breekon and Hope.

-Martin was the first one to mention the Web lighter in season 5 in MAG162.

What Does This Mean

Now I will admit none of these things on their own mean Web!Martin. They’re something you might describe a Web!avatar yes, but not Martin on his own (like I said just because Martin can be a manipulator doesn’t mean he is a Web avatar).

In fact, with elements like Martin finding fire his least favorite pain, I adore the meta on Martin’s trauma about giving himself up for other people led to him disliking fire and the lack of care from his mother, also leading to that. It is an excellent metaphor that fits incredibly well with his character. That being said, these factors can coexist. Martin disliking fire can both be a metaphor for his own self-destruction for the sake of others and be hints toward Web!Martin.

HOWEVER, that all being said, even if these moments on their own don’t mean Web!Martin proof, I find it a bit unreasonable to entirely dismiss all of this either. There are too many coincidences lining up with the Web to not be intentional. It could be a red herring of course, but if it is a red herring.....well, Jonny put a hella of a lot of effort into making the Web!Martin red herring considering how much of his little details align so well with the small and big details of the Web.

But assuming that this info does align together in all its Webiness... does this mean Web!Martin?

Again, at the moment, I don’t think Martin is actively Webby.

At his heart, Martin wants to do two things: 1) Protect Jon and 2) Protect as many other innocents he can in the process.

As ironic as it is: "I want to find out what's going on. I want to save Jon. I want everyone to be fine and, you know what? If we were all happy that wouldn't actually be the end of the world” and “I want them to be safe. I need him to be okay” are basically the sum of Martin’s motivations from here to now. Martin wants a happy ending. And he’ll use whatever tools he can to do that.

So asking questions from dangerous people like Simon Fairchild? For the protection of the world from what he thought was from the Extinction.

Burning up statements and burning up the cabin? The Desolation would like that, if it wasn’t for the fact he does so to decrease the fear in the world.

And manipulating others? Peter? Jonah? Both of these weren’t to cause fear. They were at their heart to help others.

Using the tools that the powers use does not mean you’re of that power. Martin’s most effective tool is to manipulate others bc they underestimate him or they trust him to do what needs to be done. People tend to have a single view of him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have other tactics, but with both Peter and Elias, it’s clear he knows how to use others’ egos against them.

Season 5 and Web!Martin

This ALL being said...... Season 5 is a lot about the nature of power (what to do with it and what it means to use it) and what you can do in inherently toxic systems. We just learned that killing its leaders does nothing when the system itself is built to actively hurt others. That smiting doesn’t actively make things better. The Web is actively doing something at the moment and possibly with the Distortion as well that will probably hurt Jon and Martin.

But.....

I’m worried about the possibility that the Web can promise a world with a happy ending like Martin always wanted and with no other options within the world, Martin chooses to let himself become a tool for the Web. Now to make this clear: Does Web!Martin give a happy ending or even a better world? No. Absolutely not. Can the Web possibly promise to give him the power to get a happy ending? Depends on if Martin will believe it.

If Web!Martin is a thing, it would be in doing so What He Thinks would be in both of their best interests and most importantly as his lowest point and final resort. That he stops believing that they have power to change the world on their own. When he believes he has no power left and all he can do to make the world better is to go to the one source that always seems to understand what’s going on. Because as of yet, he doesn’t have the motivations to be a Web avatar, but we’re slowly creeping into territory where he might think it is necessary to be one.

(We already had best case scenario where the Web asks Martin to join him and Martin says no. He could say no again, of course, but I don’t know if the Web will be as understanding of his reluctance in time).

For me, Web!Martin is on the same level of tragedy as Jon being the Archivist. Yes, there would be choices, but Martin would have been actively been manipulated by the Web just as much as Jon would be hurt by the Eye, even if it’s for entirely different reasons. He would be used as a tool in a greater game. Jon wants to be a good person. Martin wants to have a happy ending. We already know Jon’s desire to help the people around him has gotten him multiple marks. I can definitely see a world where Martin’s desire for a happy ending is used against him by the Web.

I can see a world where Martin lies to Jon because he thinks that’s what’s best for the two of them. I can see a world where he doesn’t lie to Jon but still accepts the power of the Web anyway despite Jon not thinking it’s a good idea. I don’t think either HAVE happened yet. We aren’t at that point, but...

Whatever the case, whatever plan the Web may have it highly involves one Mister Blackwood and his Archivist. And for the Web’s plans, Martin plays a key part of in it.

Other Theories and How Web Martin Plays Into It

So, do I think that’s where the plot will end? With Web!Martin betraying Jon bc he thinks it will be best? Not really. I think a lot of the point will also be that while Martin fits the Web well, his inherent desire for a better world makes it so he’s not an avatar. It’s the same points I made before: aesthetically, Martin fits the Web well and could be a good avatar in association, but he doesn’t WANT to hurt innocents. And ultimately, no matter his potential goals, Martin loves and cares for the world and especially for Jon. There could be a mistake in there made by Martin, where the Web has his clutches in him, but I don’t see a world where that is his ultimate conclusion.

I’ve also seen a theory where Martin uses Webby shenanigans to his advantage against Annabelle Cane. Where the manipulator becomes the manipulated and the tragedy is the sacrifice of himself for the sake of a happy ending he’ll never see.

I’m interested in seeing if Jonah making Martin the backup Archivist goes anywhere, especially with the uncertain connection between the tapes, the Eye, the Web, and the Archivist. Does this have anything to do with why Martin felt like he had to listen to Jon? Does this have anything to do with how he slapped Jon out of a statement? Could both of these elements also have something to do with the Web?

I’m also very intrigued on what Web Development was doing when they have something called a “story-spinner” and yet when the story-spinner was described it sounded almost exactly like an Archivist, but instead when you give a story, the spinner killed someone. Could the story-spinner have anything to do with the previous back-up Archivist? Could they just be entirely separate things?

Who knows what it all means? I don’t. That’s why I’m not discounting anything, especially with something that has so much set-up and subtext as Web!Martin. Whether Web!Martin means full avatar or not isn’t clear to me, but I’m taking any and all potential red-tape moments and running with them. If it means being pulled by a red-herring, so be it, but I won’t dismiss anything until proven otherwise. As long as Martin wants to do good and have a happy ending, I don’t think the Web can fully get him at least not in the ways that count. But I won’t stop investigating the narrative on what these elements could lead up to.

Conclusion

This post was made in frustration. I admit that. There is a distaste for Web!Martin that has been approaching the fandom that I don’t entirely understand. I’m not saying you have to like it, heck I admit, I could be entirely wrong. I also agree it’s a bit annoying that every interaction that Martin and Jon have come up under scrutiny for Martin potentially being Webby by the fandom. That’s why I started this post as I did because I don’t find the narrative of “Martin Is The Evil Bad Guy Manipulating Jon From The Beginning” all that compelling and wanted to put that to rest early.

I do, though, find it frustrating dismissing all elements of Web!Martin because of this. At the end of the day, I find there are too many elements in the text to entirely dismiss it and an outright rejection of Web!Martin can potentially lead to dissatisfaction with the narrative. I make this post as an explanation and exploration of my thoughts, and a way to show why so many fans like the Web!Martin theory. Take it or leave it, it’s fine, but I wanted to gather all my thoughts clearly in one place rather than in a bunch of snippy posts. I hope I’ve done that well enough.

TLDR: Web!Martin for me is a potential, a threat, and a possibility, but not something I think is actively happening at the moment. Martin would make a good fit for an avatar if he wanted to be, but at the moment, has no motivation to do so. However, with the ever decreasing options to save the end of the world, I can see a situation where Web!Martin is a thing that he actively thinks could save it.

That being said, Martin is inherently a character that wants to do GOOD in the world, and as long as that’s the case, even if that motivation is used against him, I don’t think he will be proven wrong that the world can be good and he has the power to make it so, or at the very least, I don’t think his journey will end on a dower note, even if it is a tragic one. The tragedy will be in the cost of saving the world or something similar, and whether or not Web!Martin is the case, I don’t think that will change. That being said, there are many potential theories on what could happen, and I don’t want to miss any of them, Web or not. This post has been made in somewhat defense as to why people like Web!Martin and continue to theorize about it, but also in reassurance that even if we do get Web!Martin that it doesn’t mean a destruction of Martin’s character.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma meta #web!martin #tma spoilers #tma s5 #I made an essay but needed to put my thoughts together #long post #ALSO THANK YOU GAMMI AND CHIN FOR YOUR HELP WITH THIS!!!#edit: my read more died when I edited on mobile gdi sorry

231 notes · View notes

write-a-bad-romance · 3 years

Text

Two Hares Running Side by Side [Part II]

Part I here

Characters: Jean d’Arc, Napoleon Bonaparte, Sebastian, Comte de Saint-Germain, minor characters adapted from historical figures

Pairings: Napoleon x MC, Napoleon x Jean, Sebastian x Saint-Germain (main)

Words: 2940

Warning: Slight gore and major character amputation.

"Herr Mozart....or, Wolf as he asked me to call him, was unexpectedly amiable to my visiting him. One of his violinists even invited me to play, and I was elated when they applauded me and...."

Leon didn't need to read the rest of the letter. He understood.

There was little you could hide from Leon, not even in writing. He had long suspected his fiancé's fondness for the young musician. The more he read her letters, it was as clear it went beyond simple admiration.

Her feelings didn't go unrequited, it seemed.

Leon was a kind man. He didn't believe that he was, but everybody else insisted he was. He didn't climb the ranks of the Grande Armée through hard work and ingenuity alone.

Leon didn't want to accuse his own fiancé of unfaithfulness. Leon, on his part, believed his feelings to be earnest. But could he say the same for her?

With the letter crumpled in his fist, he strolled along the streets, in need of a distraction. He had gotten so used to having people around, to getting himself so busy there was no time to nurse festering wounds. Thoughts grew louder in silence, after all.

He stopped at a familiar bookstore, one he and Sebastian liked to frequent on breaks. Large yet cozy, and only sparsely crowded. It was the perfect sanctuary, and Leon grabbed a novel from the shelves to start reading.

But none of the words drew him in, and soon Leon put the book down to observe the other persons. One was particularly noticeable, a tall figure clad in a black shirt.

It was none other than Sergeant-Major d'Arc, flipping through a selection of leather-bound notebooks.

Jehanne, Leon gulped uneasily. Memories of gloved fingers stroking the nape of his neck resurfaced.

Leon (along with Sebastian and Saint-Germain) swore to pretend nothing happened to preserve the sergeant-major's dignity. The man in question himself woke up with no recollection of what transpired the previous night, and everything was back to usual.

But Leon's head was currently in a jumble, and it took him a while until he noticed that the other man had spotted him.

Iolite eyes bore into emerald eyes, and Leon had never felt more vindicated in his entire life.

So he did what most sensible men would do, sweep it all under the rug and show your opponent your flashiest grin.

"D'Arc! What a coincidence!" he greeted. "You alone?"

D'Arc held his chosen notebook to his chest, a rosy-colored thing that didn't suit him. "Mm," he answered. "My friends are currently preoccupied....elsewhere, and I need to replace my old journal."

"Ah, so you're keeping a journal!" Leon exclaimed, only to scold himself because soldiers keep a journal nowadays and that it's an obvious thing to say.

"Not for....reasons you might expect," D'Arc looked away. "I've been told that my writing is terrible. Gilles suggested I practice my cursive in a notebook."

The other man's bluntness never stopped being a surprise to Leon. "Ah."

They exited the store together, and Leon thought about following him for the entire day. Leon felt guilty for imposing himself on the man, but it was bound to be a long day, and he needed a distraction.

Was it safe to assume he was close enough to Jehanne—D'Arc to take up his personal time? Soldiers don't usually grope their superiors when they're drunk.

It didn't hurt to ask, Leon thought. And his initial embarrassment was already long gone. "Seeing as we're both alone, why don't you accompany me? I can treat you if you like."

Leon could sense some slight hesitation on Jean's part.

"Fine," he muttered. "I don't see why not."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

D'Arc ended up following Leon throughout their entire excursion. The Sergeant-Major wasn't one for small talk, but Leon didn't mind the peace.

He had to admit it was immensely refreshing to learn more about d'Arc. One, he was apparently skilled in sewing, and that he'd mended his own uniforms flawlessly. And second, he had as much interest in flower viewing as he did in testing weapons.

There were rumors about a soldier whose firearms expertise was unmatched and was second to none in swordsmanship. This mysterious soldier was said to swing his sword out in the open every morning without fail, even during midwinter.

The sharpshooter turned out to be d'Arc, who didn't seem to take much pride in his commendable habits. He even asked (insisted really) Leon to keep them a secret.

Even more blackmail material, Leon thought, amused.

But Leon felt some degree of affection for the innocent man, and something tugged his heartstrings when d'Arc marveled at the posh café they entered. There was probably none in his hometown, Leon wagered.

D'Arc, the humble man he was, refused everything else but water (Leon insisted he try the café’s renowned rose tea). And it wasn't until Leon ordered a plate of colorful macarons that the youth's interest was piqued.

And you said you're against sweets. Leon smiled as he took a bite of his own crêpe.

He was puzzled when d'Arc suddenly bent down and set a sheet of crumpled paper on the table.

Leon's eyes widened in recognition but didn't immediately snatch the letter back into his pocket.

"Must have fallen when I took out some coins," Leon smiled. "Thank you, d'Arc. I didn't notice."

"I didn't read it," d'Arc whispered.

"I beg your pardon?"

But there was a tinge of redness on his cheeks, and the way d'Arc tried to bashfully hide his face was....was....

Darling. But damn the entire Grande Armée if Leon had to say it out loud. Last he checked, he had none of Sebastian’s inclination.

"Don't worry about it," Leon cleared his throat. "You've told me your secrets, and I showed you mine. It's alright."

D'Arc raised a thin eyebrow. Any other officer would've found the act insolent, but Leon wasn't just any officer.

He was a considerate officer. And a distraught one.

"I suppose I can't blame you for peeking then," Leon smiled wryly. "I should've kept my problems to myself. Put that letter back in my quarters or something,"

D'Arc listened calmly and took a sip of his tea.

"But maybe I'm just not capable enough to solve this one," Leon mumbled. "I'm never good at this.... at this sort of thing. She's always the one to go after me and make me sit down and....and talk. But we're far away from each other, and I'm at a loss on what to do."

Leon ran a hand through his black locks. He was crumbling in front of his subordinate, but it didn't matter. He trusted that d'Arc trusted him with his secrets, and that was grounds for confiding in the man, wasn't it?

And d'Arc's presence was calming, like a sturdy bastion amidst the whirlwind around Leon.

"We're drifting apart. My fiancé's got a fancy for this gentleman whom I had introduced sometime during the holiday. I can't entirely blame her," he continued. "He was elegant. Very charming, I might add. A bit standoffish, perhaps. But definitely attractive in every sense."

He straightened the creased letter over and over.

"At least he can be by her side all the time," Leon toyed with his fork. "I never thought once that I'd be losing her. We've been friends together with Sebastian. I simply can't imagine the thought of us, well....not being together."

"I'm not supposed to leave this as it is. But," Leon's breath hitched. "I have too much on my plate right now. A part of me wished I could run away. I don't run from problems, I don't. But this? This is something completely new."

When Leon finally raised his head to look at d'Arc, the man was staring outside the window.

Had Leon finally bored him?

"Choose your battles," d'Arc finally replied. "Be it at home or at the front."

D'Arc snatched a macaron and rotated it between his gloved fingers.

"I have no real experience in matters of the heart," he went on. "But you are a capable commander, Second Lieutenant Bonaparte. Even if you can't guarantee they'll eventually result in victory, you're always willing to see them through."

Leon listened to d'Arc, articulating his words like a saint. Do pious men all speak in tongues?

"Look," Leon countered delicately. "War and people are two very different things. You can't just think about...defeating the other person and be done with it."

Leon sighed. "Friendships may suffer, and hearts can break. I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to hurt...us."

"But does it hurt you?" D'Arc asked.

"Huh?"

"Does it hurt you?"

Leon laced his fingers on his lap. Did this cause him to lose sleep? Did it cost him hours of pondering whether the relationship had any hope of salvaging?

If the relationship was even worth salvaging?

"I'm not sure," Leon breathed. "I still love her. Very much. But I'm afraid I won't be getting much rest if I let this on any longer."

"Good," D'Arc nodded. "You can't fight a war while having...troubles from home lingering at the back of your head."

"Troubles?" Leon couldn't help but ask.

"My father," D'Arc confided. "I haven't spoken to my father since I left home. From the letters my brother Pierre sent to me, it seemed he hasn't quite forgiven me for departing."

"I see," it was a fairly common problem among recruits, especially those as young as d'Arc when he enlisted.

To some, it sustained their will to survive the wars and come home. The less fortunate ones, however...

The coffee tasted bitter on Leon's tongue. D'Arc had to survive, and so did the other countless young men under his wing. Their wings.

Napoleon chuckled. Funny how he was moaning about his love life a moment ago. And now, he was concerned for the younger man's personal struggles.

Friends, eh?

"Is something the matter?" D'Arc tilted his head, exposing a swath of his slightly tanned neck. He had become less paler over the years, Leon noticed.

"It's nothing," Leon ceased his chuckling. "Tell me more about your family, then, d'Arc."

His chest now felt a little lighter, and Leon decided he'd deal with the letter in the evening. For now, he was content listening to d'Arc talking about the mysterious Pierre and his hometown.

Twilight came, and Leon finally found his courage to write to his fiancé and ask about Herr Mozart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"So things didn't go well between both of you," Sebastian confronted Leon one day over coffee.

"I didn't— I haven't told you. How did you know?" Had Leon been too obvious? Or was it Sebastian's uncanny ability to read people?

"She's been writing to me, too. You both broke off the engagement pretty neatly, I must say," Sebastian sipped his mug. "You even wrote to her parents and told your mother. How gentlemanly of you."

Leon was wary of the tone in Sebastian's voice.

"But you didn't even tell me, your friend of ten years!" He hissed. "I thought you know better, Napoleon Bonaparte!"

"I'm sorry," Leon answered sheepishly. "I wasn't sure how to go about the entire issue, even when it was just between the two of us. I wanted to talk to you, but everything was resolved quicker than I expected."

Sebastian's lip thinned. "Congratulations,"

Outside, the wind was roaring, and mist descended upon the camp.

"So," the grey-haired man clapped his hands. "You're free to pursue whoever you like then."

His friend's abrupt change of demeanor baffled him. "I've just broken things off with my childhood sweetheart. Is a man not allowed to rest?"

"Ah, but she already left you for another man. All while you were moping," Sebastian pointed out, "I'm not telling you to take revenge or anything. But I can see you've already sorted things out in that department."

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean," Leon retorted.

"You've got your eyes on somebody," Sebastian waved his hand. "Nothing can escape me, Bonaparte. Don't think I've been unaware."

"There is absolutely nobody," Leon swore. "I've not met with another woman for ages, and you know that."

Sebastian stepped forward and flicked Leon on the forehead.

"So is that what you prefer, Bonaparte?" The man grabbed Napoleon's shoulders, practically shouting in his face. "Lanky, quiet youths with narrow eyes?"

"I-I don't follow," Leon rubbed his forehead. That flick stung!

"So, you like them beautiful? Okay, I can see why!" The other man continued his rant, "Was I too manly for you? How come you're suddenly paying attention to other men when I'm already with Saint-Germain?"

"The fuck are you even talking about." Leon had all but lost Sebastian at this point.

Sebastian finally released his hold on Leon, who stared bewildered at his best friend.

"You said you had no interest in men when I confessed to you," Sebastian closed in on Leon. "But you're eyeballing Sergeant-Major D'Arc all the time."

It finally dawned on Leon that Sebastian was referring to their budding relationship. Their strictly platonic relationship.

"Is that what you're thinking?" Leon gulped. "Nothing more than brotherly affection. Yes, that's it."

But the slate-colored eyes only narrowed at him skeptically.

"Oh, I give up! I accidentally consulted him about her letters, okay?" Leon gave in. "I admit that's rather private considering I haven't known him for long, but he shared his secrets too, alright? I wasn't the only one airing my dirty laundry out in the open."

Sebastian stared down at him silently.

"What?" Leon frowned. "Are you jealous or something?"

But he was instead met with laughter from the other man. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No, at this point, no." Sebastian giggled. "I have my man, and you get yours. You're free to come crying to me whenever your relationship with d'Arc goes south, though. Consider we're even after keeping me in the dark about your breakup."

"Incomprehensible as always, Adjutant Second Officer." Napoleon squinted his eyes.

"Go at him while it's still eager, then," Sebastian brandished his mug exaggeratedly. "You're not the only one doing the ogling, you know."

"What—" but he was left hanging as Sebastian opened the tent flap and went outside.

"Time is of the essence, Bonaparte!" The man shouted. "Good hunting, I say!"

Napoleon was left in the empty tent with another headache.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon wondered if there was a sliver of truth in Sebastian's words.

God only graced his most beautiful angels, and d'Arc was one amongst throes of monsters in uniforms.

Some joked that he was a sort of holy man, sent by God from the provinces to aid the Grande Armée in its lowest point. Others say he was, in fact, a he-witch who could not die and could not be grazed by any bullet or sword.

He was a lucky bastard, Leon concluded. A lucky bastard who also happened to be a living embodiment of beauty.

D’arc was perfect in many ways that Leon and his men couldn't be. He was pious, educated despite his origins, and had no interest in women whatsoever.

The sergeant-major was kind to nurses and milkmaids they met while passing villages, yes. But he was also known to fly into an unexpected rage when he discovered his lads were smuggling wenches into camp.

When teased why he didn't just volunteer to be a standard-bearer, d'Arc simply answered, "You men wouldn't survive a day without me behind the cannons."

It wasn't ambition, Leon noticed. Some men just found their purpose after escaping death after five battles despite no real hope of staying long upon entering the camp.

"I wager he's just horribly repressed," Sebastian joked one evening over wine. "Hey, maybe you'd get a chance with him. With those types, you never know!"

Leon thought of nothing when his best friend suddenly confessed that he harbored feelings for him, back when they were only with the army for six months. He kept mum when he learned Sebastian was visiting their blond doctor after hours and only coming back before dawn.

Hell, Leon himself was been looking forward to a quiet life with his fiancé and their children, back in Paris. He also never expected to be left to continue his life in the barracks, tending to an empty heart and a never ending war.

At least, there was now a face to look for after the smoke cleared.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"We only had to amputate one of his legs. He'll make it through the night. I guarantee he survived." Saint-Germain's words rang in Leon's ears as he weaved through hordes of medics.

He didn't find Sebastian immediately after they retreated. And now he knew the reason why.

The ward smelled of soiled linen and painkillers. It was a miracle that they found a makeshift hospital nearby, a university building filled with rows of beds and better supplies than what they were used to having out in the fields.

Leon found Sebastian on a bed near the window. There was an empty space where the left leg should have been.

Leon scrambled to grasp at his pale hand, thankfully still warm. Yet the man barely stirred, even as the afternoon light streamed in and hit his bandaged face.

"Sebastian...." Leon whispered, "Can you hear me?"

But the man didn't. The morphine was potent, and Leon was left to stare blankly at his best friend's prone body.

Nurses came and went, and more soldiers were wheeled in. The clamor inside the infirmary was constant, but Leon was deaf to everything but the slightest rustle from Sebastian's paralyzed form.

⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋

#ikemen vampire #ikevam fanfic #ikevam jean #ikevam napoleon #jeanpoleon #riri tries ikevam

28 notes · View notes

interdimensionalspaceworm · 3 years

Note

this isn’t a malicious ask, but i’m just genuinely curious what your take on crankiplier is when you take into consideration that

1) ethan has given his fans explicit permission to ship him with people and write fanfiction as long as they don’t harass him with it

2) mark has reblogged a piece of crankiplier fanart

3) they’ve flirted or interacted in a way suggesting they’re attracted to each other purposefully for the fandom’s response,

exhibit a) when they called one of their bits “queerbaiting for charity” (mark petting ethan + calling him a good boy + feeding him fruit snacks + eskimo kissing for donations on a charity stream)

exhibit b) mark saying he thought about kissing ethan onstage during tour (i assume because the fangirls would’ve gone nuts)

exhibit c) in general, knowing that jokes about getting married, dating, implying a sexual relationship, etc. would cause fan speculation but proceeding to include them in videos regardless

i’m not big on shipping real people either, and we should all certainly do our best to keep that part of the fandom low-key, but like. the circumstances here are much different than septiplier. i wouldn’t shame anyone for this one

Ok so as I said, I’ll try to address each of your points. Thank you for being willing to talk with me, I hope you’ll take into consideration the points I’m going to make.

1) I’ve seen those posts, and while it is true that Ethan has said these things, it was (correct me if I’m wrong) a while ago and his position on this may have changed since then. I know that isn’t a real convincing point, but you also have to agree that Ethan in particular is generally very permissive towards his fandom. But his permissiveness should not be taken as a free pass to ship him whenever you want. If a parent says you can go out with friends, that doesn’t mean you can go to Junkie Jimmy’s house party. Just because you have been given permission to do something doesn’t mean it’s a good idea, or that you should.

2) Again, correct me if I’m wrong (because I haven’t seen the post), but a lot of ship fanart (especially controversial ship fanart) tends to be pretty ambiguous due to the nature of shipping. Unless said fanart was undeniably ship art, it’s very possible that Mark simply saw a cool piece of fanart and decided to reblog it without checking the context of it. If anyone knows what post this is, please tell me so I can figure out if that might have been the case.

3) This is probably the biggest point I’m going to make here, so I’m going to put it in bold. It’s never ok to ‘speculate’ on real people’s lives with regard to their interpersonal relationships. Ever. Full stop. It is not the job of content creators to tailor their content to leave out parts that would ‘cause fan speculation’. They’re real people, not characters whose every interaction is available for debate. They’re not ‘suggesting’ anything. They’re just people who live their lives and are comfortable in their friendship with each other. People do that. And it’s not the job of anyone who doesn’t know them to decide their relationship. You don’t know them. None of the shippers here or anywhere else know them. And using them for your own fulfillment, sexualizing them into lovey-dovey caricatures of themselves, is truly and simply morally repugnant.

Your points rely on suggesting that Mark and Ethan are purposely ‘riling up’ the fanbase by making content that ‘suggests’ crankiplier, but the truth is that either a. it’s a joke between friends (your own friends probably mess around with each other in the same way. I know mine sure do) or b. the shippers are reading way too far into simple interaction.

I’m not trying to be a stickler about these things, but when it comes to real people shipping, it’s not about saying ‘ohh you can’t ship that’ just because you can. I’m not saying it just to ruin anyone’s fun, or to be ableist towards people with hyperfixations (I have ADHD. I know neurodivergent people can still be ableist, but that’s beside the point), or anything like that. I’m against crankiplier, and all rpf ships, because they rely on sexualizing and purposely misconstruing interactions between people. Real people, with lives, and thoughts, and relationships with their loved ones. Real people with boundaries that must be respected.

And it’s no coincidence that most of these ships tend to be mlm. It’s a symptom of toxic masculinity that people can look at a healthy friendship between two men and say ‘they can’t be that close without being gay’. It’s not your place to interpret that.

So here’s my message to rpf shippers: leave them alone. Ironically, by being gross about their relationships, you only drive these people farther apart because they begin to believe that anything they do will be sexualized by shippers. I saw it happen 4 years ago. It can, and will, happen again.

To those with hyperfixations: I hear you. I was there, once. I learned to change my trajectory a little bit to focus only on fictional characters (by zealously reading YA novels about dragons. If it works, it works.). I know that’s waaaay easier said than done, but if you make a real commitment to yourself, you can find a way. And maybe, in a few months, your old ships won’t be so enticing anymore.

And to those who choose to harass and send death threats, on either side of the argument: stop. You’re not helping anyone. One day, the fandom will come together and say that there is no place for rpf shipping here. But every aggressive comment pushes us farther apart.

I know this sounds ironic, coming from me, but I don’t have any hate towards those who rpf ship. You are not a bad person. What you are participating in, however, is ethically wrong. You must know that. The only people in this entire circumstance that I harbor any ill will towards are the people who continue to insist that rpf shipping is right. That somehow they, as fans, get to ‘speculate’ on the relationships between others. They who continue to show disrespect towards the very content creators they claim to support so much. And I refuse to support that.

Thank you for sending this ask and allowing me to elaborate on my stance on these things. I know this is unlikely to change anyone’s minds about it, but it’s all worth it if even one person can realize that they’re supporting something they shouldn’t be supporting. And to those people: it’s ok. Trust me, we’ve all been there.

#qwerty talks #rant #rpf tw

31 notes · View notes

worksby-d · 3 years

Note

Honestly the knowledge that grown adults write Fanfiction and partake in fandoms is really reassuring. Like I’m only 20!and I have a lot of issues I basically lost all of my teen years due to illness and I always had this thought that I was just holding on to fandoms to grasp any semblance to my teen years. It’s always younger people (and Ik I’m 20 and I’m still young but yknow) in fandoms who don’t fully realise you need adults in fandoms spaces.

I think a good examples is the dsmp fandom (the minecraft server set up my dream) on Twitter. The people mostly active in the Twitter are 13-15 year olds. And watching it all play out is scary. They put these creators on such high pedestals to the point where they make a weird face and they all try to cancel them. It’s such a toxic space when it’s only preteens/early teens because preteens/early teens don’t know shit. But they’re also obsessed, and I think that’s what people forget. Cause god I remember being at that age and being obsessed with actors and dm’ing them on Insta- it was embarrassing and honestly I’m so glad that none of them ever saw them cause it’s so cringe and gross. At such a young age they don’t fully understand everything- and that’s ok. I’m 20 and still don’t fully understand everything, but what I do know is that maturity matters in fandoms. We need older people to guide younger people for when they get older.

I remember first finding the 18+ blogs when I was 18 just by coincidence and honestly these past 2 years I’ve learnt so much more than I ever would’ve in the younger fandom spaces. It’s a place for people to view good literature, view people’s writing with people who have a more accurate depiction of the real world. Sure it’s fanfiction and a lot of the time the stories are out there - but honestly especially with reading dark fics, you learn more about red flags and what to avoid and what isn’t healthy. Cause let’s be honest red flags aren’t talked about in the media as much as people want to believe they all know them immediately.

18+ blogs need to be normalised in fandoms cause on top of all of this. There is parts of fandoms kids don’t need to see. Being in your 20’s or 30’s or 40’s or hell 50’s (idk if 50 year olds even know tumblr exists but sure why not) is perfectly fine. At the end of the day just let people do what they want. Well yknow unless its like murder or something bad I guess. Don’t murder people that’s not cool.

i don't have the brain power to add anything to this lol but i agree!! maturity is so refreshing. and i'm so glad there's room for adults in fandom. a lot of my favorite people on here are in their 30s/40s and it just wouldn't be the same without them. they're the coolest, most accepting people and truly create such positive, non-toxic spaces where people can still grow and learn things.

#anonymous #answered

3 notes · View notes

undertalethingems · 4 years

Text

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 8: Local Cryptid

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: A rumor's been spreading in Snowdin...

"I'd dismissed it as gossip myself, but then that Ice Cap said they attacked it," Dogaressa was saying, catching Undyne's attention as she stepped indoors.

"What's going on?"

"Oh! Captain!" Dogamy yelped, and the dogs gathered around the table at Grillby's quickly stood and saluted.

"At ease," she said, and the group collectively wagged their tails as they sat back down. "Really though, what were you talking about before I came in?"

"Some rumor," Doggo replied dismissively. "It's been going around a couple weeks now. Supposedly there's some kind of beast running around attacking people. Some even think it's a human. I don't believe a word though, I haven't seen anything."

"And we haven't smelled anything," Dogamy added, his wife nodding. "It was all just hearsay until two days ago, but everyone's been on edge because of it."

"Two days ago--that's when the Ice Cap saw it?" Undyne surmised, and her crew nodded.

"Did they get a good look at it? If someone's causing trouble--or if it IS a human--we can't let them escape justice. You know the policy."

The dogs exchanged looks.

"Well..." Dogamy started.

"The Ice Cap didn't exactly see what they attacked," Dogaressa said, drumming the table with her claws, her brows furrowed. "All they could say was that it was big and white--frankly, that could be anyone at this table. Or even just a snowbank... The rumors, though..."

"Supposedly," Doggo picked up, "it's some kind of deathly skeletal beast that picks off people who stray too far into the woods to eat their dust. Sounds like something parents would say to scare their kids if you ask me. Uh... that's why we haven't reported it. We were just discussing what to do before you walked in."

"I see." Undyne narrowed her eye. "...Skeletal?"

Doggo shrugged. "Yeah, all made of bones, like the brothers who used to live around here, but no one's actually seen it so who knows... By the way, have you heard from either of them lately? I thought sure Papyrus would be back from vacation by now, and you said Sans was sick... but it's been a real long time..."

Undyne studied her crew's somber faces and made a quick decision. "Papyrus is fine, I've been in contact with him. As for Sans... we don't know where he is--just that he... probably isn't dead. Seems he's taking a vacation of his own."

The table considered her words somberly.

"There's been some speculation that he was one of the beast's first victims," Dogaressa said quietly. "Of course, no one else has disappeared, so it's kind of silly, but... he has been gone for a while, and other people have been attacked."

"It's been a lot more glum without either of 'em runnin' around," Doggo sighed, propping his head on a paw, and Undyne's heart twisted.

"Well, I'll let Papyrus know how much you guys miss him, and... I guess, keep an eye out for Sans--and this so-called beast. If people are getting hurt, we need to bring it--or whoever's behind this--into custody as soon as possible. I'll have more formal orders for you later, but if you'll excuse me, I DID come here to order food."

The dogs nodded and waved her off, and she headed for the counter.

"Hey Grillby, long time no see. Yeah, one order of cheese fries, thanks."

She waited on her food, thoughts buzzing. If the rumor was true, it didn't make any sense. A skeletal beast... she only knew one person who fit that description, and he'd been hanging with her for three weeks now. Her fries were set before her, interrupting her thoughts briefly, but she continued to ponder as she ate. Gossip and rumor wasn't unheard of--it, for better or worse, was a frequent form of entertainment in the Underground. But tales of strange creatures were rare--largely because almost everyone was a strange creature. Was someone trying to play a joke...? Being petty about their neighbor? Or... was there more to it? She needed information.

"Hey, so the rumor that's been going around, the one about the beast," she started, turning to the red bird sitting next to her. "Any idea who started it?"

The bird opened a bleary eye. "No one's entirely sure, Cap'n. Jus', one day it was all the kids could talk about. Think maybe it's some game they're playin'. Right Grilbz?"

The fire elemental paused to nod.

"Hmm. The Guard told me people have been attacked?"

"Sure, and everyone's all jumpy because of that," the bird replied, "but I still think it's the kids, messin' around with their magic. Someone oughta set 'em back on track."

Undyne snorted a laugh. "I get the hint. Still... no one's even seen it, but they're all pretty sure it's not a regular monster, huh?"

The bird thought for a moment. "Guess not. If it's someone new to town, why haven't they introduced themselves? Us Snowdin folks don't bite--the dogs are real good about that."

"I would hope so," Undyne stated, brow raised. "You're right though. If there really is someone out there attacking people, they need to be dealt with. Thanks for the info. Here Grillby, keep the change. Stay safe."

The dogs saluted her as she marched back out; she was really glad she'd decided to treat herself and learned about this situation sooner rather than later. What an odd rumor to start up... Her thoughts still swirled, trying to piece it all together. She was confident no one had seen Papyrus in his current state--but maybe something had gotten past her. If that was the case though, why had the rumors started in Snowdin and not Waterfall? And that relied on the description of the beast being accurate--as far as she knew, no one had actually seen it. It was an odd coincidence--but not enough for proof.

With a scowl deepening on her face, no one dared stop her during her patrol, and by the time she headed off to pick up Papyrus she was ready to punch something. People were getting hurt, and she couldn't understand or figure out why. Maybe it was reckless kids--but whether it was that, some rogue monster, or even a human somehow, they needed to be stopped. And if it was Papyrus at the center of this--then someone needed to be set straight about that too. But without any major leads or evidence, she couldn't take action. There was nothing she could do about it. She hated it.

"Undyne? You look... displeased..." Papyrus noted wincingly as she stormed into his sanctuary, and she checked herself.

"Sorry, uh... bad day at work. Hope things went okay here?"

"Yes! Quiet as usual! Well! Except for when I was practicing my best bone rattles. Would you care for a demonstration?"

Somehow, he was already brightening her mood--she broke into a smile. "Aaaah c'mere, I'll rattle your bones for ya!"

He dodged her lunge with a yelp and took off, and she was happy to chase after him and let off steam until she ran out of breath. Sinking to the cavern floor with a clatter, she laid her legs out in front of her and leaned back on her hands, panting. Papyrus, who had won yet another round, trotted up and turned in place a few times before laying down next to her.

"That should have put some distance between you and your problems," he said, and she laughed breathlessly.

"Oh, my god."

"I'm not wrong." He beamed.

"No," she replied, "no, you aren't. I feel a lot better. Thanks."

"Then I have done my job! Nyeh heh heh!"

"Hey, I saw some people who really miss you today."

"Really?"

"Yeah--I went to Grillby's for lunch and talked to the dogs, they're all still worried about you guys and hope you'll be back soon."

"Aw," Papyrus said, looking flattered. "I still can't believe I have so many fans! I'll have to be sure to say hello when I return--though, not by going to Grillby's. I could smell you coming almost as soon as I could hear you!"

"Hey, I don't smell that bad!"

Papyrus looked like if he'd had a nose, he'd have wrinkled it. "You smell like greasy, sweaty fish and it's a wonder I haven't keeled over."

"Oh my god! I'm gonna push you into the lake!"

"Then I'm taking you with me! You need a bath!"

"Just you try it, bone boy! NGAAAAAHHH!"

Undyne was up and chasing him again in a flash--and between her own single-mindedness and some clever moves on Papyrus' part she did end up careening into the lake. Armor sopping, she hauled herself up laughing, and had to take a moment to lean with hands on her knees. Papyrus watched her happily, tail waving in a motion that wasn't quite wagging but seemed to mean the same thing.

"Alright, I've had enough fooling around for now. Ready to head home?"

"Yeah! I think I'd like to try those clothes you talked about tonight."

"Awesome! Yeah, Alphys helped me pick some stuff out, she knows what dealing with a tail is like and had some great suggestions. I think you're really gonna like 'em!"

Papyrus bounced in place, then darted off to collect his things. Undyne was extra vigilant as they headed back; she scouted ahead to make sure the coast was clear, ears pricked and eye darting at every sound and motion they encountered. Escort missions were always a bother, but if her friend was being targeted by awful rumors... She wasn't taking any chances.

They got back to her house without incident, but Undyne had made a decision. She'd considered leaving the strange sightings to the Snowdin unit until further notice, certain they could handle it. But the more she'd thought about it, the more she was certain someone had seen Papyrus. Considering it was her duty to protect him while he tried to regain his other form, she owed it to him to track down whoever had started the rumor and get to the bottom of this personally. He was getting more comfortable with himself every day--he hadn't slipped in over a week--and she wouldn't let his own hometown ruin that for him. They spent the evening laughing, wrestling, and relaxing as they always did, but all the while, Undyne had her mind set on her goal.

It was only a few days later that she heard from the Snowdin dogs that word had spread of residents hearing eerie howls. According to witnesses, these cries came from deep within Snowdin Forest late at night, well after most monsters had gone to bed. But despite being the usual suspects, the calls were not coming from the dogs themselves--they didn't sound right. No one quite knew how to describe what they'd heard, but they all knew how it had made them feel: terrified.

All this had been charted in a brief report. Undyne looked it over again, shaking her head. She'd thought the beast rumor had been based on a sighting of Papyrus, but there was no way he was responsible for these howls. He'd have to be sneaking out every night while she was asleep... which, she supposed was possible. She wasn't sure he slept...? But, she was sure he wouldn't risk the whole trek to and from Snowdin every night, and she knew he'd never hurt anyone. He liked fighting, but... this wasn't his style at all. She had no reason to doubt him.

Undyne glared at the report and growled under her breath. Was the rumor and the howling even connected? The story had started up well before any strange noises... it didn't add up. None of this made sense and it was making her brain hurt. She slipped the note into the rest of the paperwork she'd put together so far, then left the small archive feeling antsy. It wasn't often a full report had to be filled out--most incidents were small and easily resolved, but this one... people had been hurt. Someone had to face justice for that, whether the beast was real or not.

And then, only a few days after the howling had begun, someone pounded on her door in the middle of the night. She ushered Papyrus into her room--a rare allowance--and answered to find the Dogi and Grillby decked out in a plastic poncho, wading boots, and an umbrella. His normally reserved expression seemed alarmed, and Undyne wasn't sure if it was because of a trek through hostile territory, or why he was here to begin with.

"What's happened?" she said quickly, and the Dogi saluted.

"Captain! We apologize for waking you, but this was urgent. The beast is real--Grillby saw it!" Dogamy replied, and his wife nodded.

"Grillby, please describe what you saw to Captain Undyne."

Her understanding of Hands was rusty, but Undyne did her best to follow the bartender as he explained. He'd just turned in for the night after closing, and hadn't been in bed long when a noise disturbed him. He got up to investigate, and found something digging in the restaurant trash.

At this point, he paused, looking unsure of himself.

"Go on," Undyne encouraged, and he rubbed the back of his neck before continuing.

He'd turned up his light, and seen it really was skeletal just like the rumor had said (and with Sans being his best customer, he knew a skeleton when he saw one). But the creature had noticed him as well, and he took no chances and cast a burst of flame at it. It darted off faster than he thought a creature of that size could move, and just like that, it was gone. He'd secured his trash, then found the Dogi as quickly as he could to give them his report and evidence. They'd made the decision to go to Waterfall from there.

Undyne considered all this carefully. "Thank you, Grillby. Whatever this thing is, it seems like it's getting bolder. We might have to put a curfew in place until we can catch it--for now, advise people to put their trash indoors and keep an eye out. Did you smell anything unusual on the evidence?"

Dogamy shook his head. "It just smelled like snow--and Grillby's--and maybe something else we couldn't identify. Not good enough to track. But here, you can have it for the file."

He handed her a small plastic baggie with a few torn-up napkins and a burger wrapper with holes punched in it--a bite pattern. She eyed it skeptically, but took it and set it on the table. "Thanks. You guys get some rest, call me if anything else happens. We'll continue the investigation tomorrow. Dismissed."

The Dogi saluted, and Grillby gave an awkward bow before they left. Undyne waited until they were well out of earshot.

"Okay Papyrus, you can come out. They're gone."

The door creaked, and he slowly crept out. "Is everything alright? What happened?"

She smiled at him. "Everything's fine! Just a small investigation that's ongoing, nothing you need to worry about."

"Oh, I'm not worried--I want to help! If. If I can. If that is a thing I can do. Which it almost definitely is."

Undyne shook her head. "No Papyrus. The Guard is handling this. Your assignment is staying safe while you try to get your regular body back."

Papyrus looked hurt. "You think I can't keep myself safe? You complimented my bullet patterns just last week--"

"I know!" Undyne snapped. "Your magic is great, but--"

"But what?"

She grit her teeth, rubbing her face. "... We're still trying to figure out what's going on, and everyone's on high alert for anything strange. Even Grillby... I don't want you getting hurt because someone made a mistake. I'll bring you in when I think the time is right, but until then, you have to stay hidden, and no investigating on your own. Promise?"

Papyrus studied her for a bit, and closed his eyes. "... I promise, Undyne."

She breathed a sigh. "Alright. And I'm SERIOUS! No sneaking out!"

He jumped, then nodded quickly. "I'm sure if I did not get in trouble out there, I would be in a definite quantity of trouble with you, and that is the opposite of a calming thought. So. I'll just wait here! You can count on me!"

Undyne smiled. "Good. I'm gonna go back to bed so I'm ready for tomorrow. You should try and rest too."

"I will. Goodnight, Undyne."

"G'night."

Undyne turned back to her bedroom. With all this new information, falling asleep would he hard... But it was better if she faced this with a clear head.

Because the only thought she'd had that seemed to make any sense was that this creature was Sans, and that couldn't be right. She'd never admit to Papyrus, but she was starting to doubt he was even alive at this point... and they'd both told her this shapeshifting thing was unique to Papyrus. But Undyne didn't know of any other skeletons...

Even if it was Sans somehow, she couldn't let Papyrus go charging in, not when he matched the description of the creature everyone was either attacking or had orders to capture. Until she knew more, she couldn't let him get involved. She settled into bed, one thought clear above the others.

No matter who or what this creature was, it wouldn't escape.

#undertalethingem writes #gaster blaster au #papyrus (undertale)#Undyne (undertale)#snowdin dogs #finally getting this posted here!#bark at the moon fic

298 notes · View notes

unreachablevoice · 4 years

Text

Oneshot? Daminette Oneshot!

OKay, you see, I’ve been reeaaallly wanting to write about people crying for a while now for some reason (don’t ask me why I legit don’t even know). So I thought, why not make a oneshot? So BOOM! here it is! (even though I should've been writing my other Daminette and/or Maribat fics)

Anyway, I just learned that writing about people crying SUCKS! Like, why is it so effing hard???? Why did no one warn me about this??? (I mean I should’ve seen it coming either way because EVeRYTHING ABOUT WRITING is hard). So I am very sorry in advance if this isn’t as good as it... whatever it is??? hahahaha because I gotta tell you, I just did this on a whim because WRITER’S BLOCK! THAT DUDE IS SO ANNOYING!!!

Oh and you know, I’m not sure if this is considered angst? Angst with Happy Ending?... So I just researched about it and asked ma chérie belle and she said yes? But I’m still not sure so I’m just going to tag it as one.

Anywho, umm the first part of my Daminette Age Gap AU just received 400 loves (that’s what I want to call it cuz I think it’s cute leave me be!) so let’s just say that the sole purpose of this oneshot is to satisfy my craving for crying stuff and to celebrate those 400 loves (thank god for convenient coincidences) that I received from you wonderful peeps!!!!

Enjoy~!

Warning: Swearing and cuss words are present. Please read with caution, thank you!

I’m Not Scared Of Anything, But Losing You Would Be Terrifying

Cruising down the alleyway with his Father right beside him in his Batmobile, the sirens of police cars rang in his ears.

They had received a call from Commissioner Gordon not too long ago, saying how Scarecrow had escaped from Arkham and is causing havoc in a café somewhere. It would’ve been fine to just leave it with the GCPD and a few from their team but some reported that he was making a new concoction of his Fear Gas. Something much more intense.

Skidding to a stop, he takes off his helmet and walks to where his Father and the police were conversing.

“Robin.” the Dark Knight nods to him as he places himself next to his looming figure.

Crossing the police tape and getting inside the café, Robin comes face to face with Scarecrow. A gun in his hand, pointing at the hostages as he laughs maniacally.

“Scarecrow!” Batman calls from beside him, “Enough is enough! Let them go!”

The villain throws his head back and laughs loudly, earning a snarl from both of the vigilantes.

“You see, dear Batman,” —Scarecrow raises his gun— “I’ve been wanting to try my new experiment.” he smirks at them and cocks his gun with his other hand.

“And you’re just the right person for the job.”

Not a second after, his goons began ambushing them.

Three goons began to circle him with their guns in hand and a demented smile on their face. If he hadn’t seen Scarecrow command them himself, he might’ve thought that the Joker was the one leading the attack.

With quick work with his Batarangs, he swiftly flings their guns out of their grasps.

Seeing as how they’re disarmed; one goon throws a punch to his face. Robin’s hand immediately shots out and blocks his punch and twists it in a direction he was sure was not possible an arm could handle.

The goon screams in anguish, which gives Robin a momentum to punch him square in the face with his free hand and watches as the goon's nose drip with blood.

Dropping the now passed out goon, he turns to the other two goons and kneels down and pulls out a Bo Staff.

Letting out a battle cry, he lunges at them and whacks them to their side, which throws them to a few tables. The sound of cracks bringing satisfaction to his ears.

Finishing the goons, he turns to Scarecrow and sees him still sporting that smug smirk on his face. What’s his motive? Why is he still smiling even though they’re practically beating up his henchmen?

They briefly catch each other’s eyes and the villain’s smile grows even wider.

Robin scowls at the villain and readies himself in a battle stance.

Without even having the chance to take a step forward, Scarecrow raises his gun and shoots at his direction.

Quickly sidestepping the bullet, he looks back at the villain, “You should really work on your aim.”

Scarecrow smirks at him mockingly, “Was I really aiming for you?”

What?

He looks behind him and sees a tank of Scarecrow’s Fear Gas punctured by his bullet.

Holy shit.

His eyes widen and he reaches to his utility belt to pull out a gas mask, but before he was able to put it on his face, a goon tackles him to the ground. Causing him to loosen his grip on the said mask.

“Fuck!” he mutters as he tries to wrestle free from the goon’s hold. “Get off me!”

As he struggles to be free, he feels the mist cloud his vision. Blurring his surroundings and making everything indistinguishable.

“Get up!” he hears someone yell at his ears and the goon that was holding onto him disappears.

He abruptly stands and closes his eyes shut. Clenching his jaw, he reminds himself that none of what he’ll see is real. To dismiss everything and pay it no mind because they are not real.

His breath becomes ragged and his heart thunders against his chest as he hears voices around him.

‘None of this is real!’ he chants to himself and covers his ears.

The sounds slowly began dissipating and everything went quiet. Too quiet.

“Damian!” an angelic voice suddenly cuts through the silence and calls out to him.

‘Habibti?’

He slowly and warily opens his eyes and is immediately met with a different environment.

Gone was the café he was previously in; he was now in a park surrounded by trees and some benches on the side. The sun was also shining brightly and the birds were chirping. Everything seemed perfect. Too perfect.

He looks down at himself and sees that he’s no longer wearing his Robin uniform but regular civilian clothing.

‘What am I doing here?’

“Listen to me!” the sweet voice calls out to him again.

“Wha—?”

“Look at me!” the voice shouts again and he feels his every being shake. Making him lose his balance and fall on the floor.

“Marinette?” he calls out and looks around. Where was she?

Whipping his head around, he is immediately met with a mop of blue-black hair.

Relief floods his whole being as he stands up and goes over to her, “Hey, I’m here,” he smiles and reaches for her hand.

“No!” Marinette shouts and slaps his hand away. Only then did he notice that her comforting gaze had turned into a sharp glare. Her beautiful blue bell orbs gone as a dark sapphire blue filled with anger replaced it. Why was she looking at him like that? Had he done something wrong?

“H-Habibti—?”

“Stop calling me that!” he winces at her tone and Marinette’s scowl deepens. Her hands ball into fists that he was afraid she’d cut her skin with her nails.

“W-What are you—?” he hastily reaches out to her once more.

“SHUT UP!” she shouts and everything shook again. Her face, still sporting that scowl, looks at him with disgust.

“I can’t believe I ever dated you,” she spat and steps back.

Damian recoils as though he’s been slapped in the face. He feels a twinge in his chest as though his heart has been pinched and punctured. No, please. She's the only thing that stayed in his life, don’t let her go now. Please.

“Marinette,” he calls as his hands reach out to her again, in to which Marinette avoided in distaste.

Seeing how angry and disgusted she looked at him made something inside of him shatter. Was he that horrible to make her not want him touch to her? Was he that disgusting?

“Mari—”

“I can’t even stand to look at you right now.” he flinches as though he just received a punch to his gut. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her in his arms and cry and ask what he’d done wrong, but he can’t do that when she’s sneering at him with abhorrence.

“I hate you, Damian,” she glowers in that tone that he hated so much. The one that he never wanted to be directed at him. But now it was.

He drops down to his knees and crawls to her feet, “I’m sorry,” he cries out.

Tears began to pool at the corner of his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeats in a strangled voice. But Marinette won’t even look at him anymore.

“W-Whatever it was, I’m sorry,” he choked out as he pleaded at her feet.

Marinette kicked at his hand away and seethed, “Don’t touch me,” she hissed as though his touch was dirty. He was dirty.

“I don’t ever want to see you again,” he blanches at her statement. His hands shook as big blobs of tears drip down his face. His heart beating sporadically as his ears rang with how everything seems to sound louder.

“Plea—”

“We’re through.”

Everything felt numb. He couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hear anything. Just that phrase repeating itself over and over again in his head. More tears began flowing down his face and he felt like he could drown, like he couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t believe that he’d one day hear those words. That those pink lips, those very same lips that he would kiss senselessly, would say that to him.

Marinette glares at him one last time and walks away, leaving him with his despair and depression eating him up.

He had always wished that this day would never come. But not all wishes come true. And now, he’s watching as the girl of his dreams, the love of his life, his girlfriend for four years leaves him. Leaves him and never comes back.

“P-Please,” he sobs as he reaches out to her disappearing form. “I promise, I’ll do better. Please, just don’t leave me.”

He stands up and attempts to run after her. But he couldn’t. Hands were holding onto him and stopping him from running after the bluenette. Feeling like the whole world was against it. Like they wanted to see him suffer.

“No!” he shouts and thrashes around, trying to get the hands, that bound him to where he stood, off. Why were they so against it? So against him? Did the world really not want him to be happy?

“Please,” he wails and just stands there, letting his tears fall as the world takes away the only thing that made him feel free.

He stood there and broke down as he watched his love disappear from his world; from his life. He cries out and screams shamelessly as he mourns for her dying love for him. As he hears and feels his own heart break from her rejection.

And he feels it. Feels their stares. Feels the whole world taunting him on how he just lost the only person who’d stayed by his side and accepted him. Making fun of how they knew he couldn’t do anything about it. How he was powerless.

He shuts his eyes tight and slides to the ground, wishing that this was all just a dream...

No.

This is not a dream. Because dreams are beautiful.

This is a nightmare.

As he sits there and cries for Marinette, he feels a small prick on the back of his neck. And another. And a third. Then the slight cloudiness of his mind disappears as everything went black.

————————

Fluttering his eyes open, Damian is met with a white ceiling and warmness on his face as the sunlight crept through the window.

He lets out a groan and rubs the side of his head.

‘Where am I?’

Roaming his eyes to check where he was, a flash of recognition comes across his green orbs. He was in his room. How?

A soft click resounded from the door and captures his attention as a blue-black blur emerges, seeming to be whispering with something at the door.

‘What’s going on?’

He rubs at his eyes and groans again. Everything was bleary and his mouth felt rough and dry. What was he doing here? Back in his room? Wasn’t he at a café before?

“Dami?” he flinches at the voice and feels a warm sensation on his forehead.

‘What is this?’

Damian reaches up to the warm... thing on his forehead and grasps it, trying to feel what it was. Was it... a hand? Why was there a hand touching his forehead? Wasn't he alone in his room?

Furrowing his eyebrows, he looks up to see a black—kind of blue—blob?... What the fuck?! Wha—What is this? What exactly is he seeing right now?

He raises his arm and tries to grab at the blueish black blob. And by grab, he meant fight. He was fighting to get the hand on his forehead off. Fighting to reach for the blue-black blob.

“Dove, calm down,” the blob speaks as it holds on to both of his hands to steady them. “It’s just me.”

Suddenly, his eyesight began clearing. The blurry things that he was seeing were no more, everything began getting clearer.

The blue-black blob that he was trying to fight (and he was definitely not losing) was finally turning comprehensible.

His eyes widen at the thing—correction, person in front of him. His breath hitching and his heart beating against his chest as he stares at those familiar blue bell eyes.

“Habibti?”

Marinette smiles softly at him. That same smile she always used to tell him that everything is all right. That smile that always seemed to make him feel calm, no matter the situation.

“Yes, it’s me.”

Damian chokes out a sob and feels his tears pour down his cheeks again. He reaches out to her and buries his face on her chest, trying to relish the feeling as he was afraid that everything—that this might just be a dream.

“Oh, dear.” he hears her mutter and feels her hand pat his head and smoothen his dark locks of hair. And it eased him a little. Made him feel that he was not hallucinating and that he was safe.

“I heard what happened,” she says in that tone, that voice that sounds so soft and caring that it made him cry harder. “Your brothers said that you inhaled Scarecrow’s new concoction of Fear Toxin and that it was so strong, they had to triple the dosage of the antidote.”

Marinette continues to rub circles on his back and cradle him back and forth as he continues to cry. Making him feel like he was a child, safe in his beloved's arms.

“I wish I could have been there,” she whispers and holds him tighter. Something that made him feel safe and away from the world, even if her arms were dainty and delicate. “Could have helped you.”

Damian feels his emotions and cries come back tenfold as he remembers what he saw when he was still influenced by the Fear Toxin. How hurt and devastated he was. How his whole world fell apart.

“I-I thought—” he hiccups, “—you were going to leave me.” he sobs harder and feels the spot on her shirt where he was crying go wet.

“No.” she pulls away from him just a bit and looks at his face, “I will never leave you.” her voice so raw with emotion, so sincere that it made him cry and thank whoever was up there that they are together.

She reaches up to his face and caresses his cheek, “I love you.” she smiles and kisses his forehead. Her lips so soft against his skin that he sometimes wondered if he just so much as to touch it the wrong way, would it tear open and bleed a pretty red color?

“I love you too.” he croaks out as he feels his voice go hoarse with all the crying. God, if his brothers could see him now, they’d for sure tease him for the rest of his life.

————————

OMAKE:

Marinette – *is lying down with Damian tucked in her arms* Wanna tell me about it?

Damian – ...It was terrifying.

Marinette – I thought you said you were fearless?

Damian – *pouting* I am! But that was seriously horrifying!

Marinette – Don’t you mean SCAREy?

Damian – UGH

Marinette – HAHAHAHA XD

Damian – You have got to stop hanging out with Grayson

————————

Edit: Okay, I forgot that I was suppose to tag people.. sorry ^^; and uh I’m still not sure on how to do this whole tagging thing so I’m sorry if I missed some people

Tags:

@thornalchemist23

@abrx2002

@k-poplunardreams

@joejoejodee

#maribat au #damianette #dc x ml #damimari #maridami #damian x marinette #ml crossover #daminette #marinette x damian #dc x miraculous #maribat #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #ml x dc #mlb x dc #marinette x batfam #angst with a happy ending #dc x mlb

63 notes · View notes