#every chapter just gets more insanity-inducing than the last

[grassbreads]

I genuinely think Hiraeth—The End of the Journey— may have unseated VnC and Witch Hat Atelier to claim the top of my “all time most visually stunning manga” rankings.

Holy hell.

#both of these pages are from chapter 11 #every chapter just gets more insanity-inducing than the last #almost every page of this series just make my heart *ache* in a way that’s so hard to describe #I’ve been reading it just a chapter or two at a time because it doesn’t seem like something I should binge #it’s so short and so incredibly beautiful #and the subject matter is so heavy and so intricately handled #I’m almost afraid to keep reading bc I don’t want to reach the end #hiraeth —the end of the journey— #hiraeth wa tabiji no hate #not described

[dreamlandcreations]

Chapter 1 • Faded dreams

Feyd x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You risk your life to find out what your dreams mean...

Warnings: space drugs (🙈), near death experience, mention of blood and death and war, no dialogue, no Feyd yet (well...), this is basically a prologue

•Feyd-Rautha masterlist• Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

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Your dreams were getting worse and it was getting more difficult to wake up each time. They seemed so real, yet they fade away each time within seconds as you finally jolt awake from the nightmares. All that remains is fear and a knowing that you are seeing the end.

You tried to ask your mother for help, well, more like tried to ask for information without telling her what's going on. Paul's own dreams were a good excuse to justify your curiosity but it also limited your options of inquiring about your specifically maddening problem. Because, of course your brother gets to dream about a pretty girl while you drown in a bloody nightmare every night. If only you could see more clearly, the not knowing of what these hazy images mean is almost worse than the death you witness each time.

You can't tell your mother though, or even Paul. They would try to stop you from making this utterly stupid decision that will probably result in your death. They wouldn't be able to understand that that possibility cannot be worse than this slowly driving you into insanity.

It was not as difficult as you thought, tricking a mentat, a doctor and a Bene Gesserit to give you little doses of spice to try. According to your careful research, with what you were gifted by Lady Fenring on her last visit, it should be enough to induce the process.

You waited until nighttime, until you knew everyone went to sleep. It was an unnecessary precaution as it turns out because Paul in the next room startled awake as soon as you took the spice.

With your last coherent thought you were thinking that getting hit by lightning must feel something like this. Only the energy didn't just hit you once, it was trapped inside your body, wreaking havoc in the very essence of your being. It was tearing you apart, and the pain was unbearable.

For a long while there was nothing but the pain, you did not really feel or sense anything. Then the first thing you were aware of was screaming, it took you a moment to realise it was your own, just before you had another wave of power rushing through you and you lost every bit of control over your body. The screaming stopped and you faintly heard your mother for a few seconds before the dreams drew you in.

No, not dreams, visions. You see everything all at once, and at first none of it made sense then you felt... time, in a way it couldn't be explained in words. The connections, the possibilities, the what ifs... like the branches of a tree... too many variants for even a mentat to handle and you were only half-trained at best. Yet, you understood, no, you felt, you sensed, you became a part of each version a little, living in a million moments at once, spread apart and yet still whole beneath that... like the branches of a tree...

The tree, your ancestry, you have to get to the other memory to finish the trial. You try to look within yourself, slightly distracted by regaining some of your physical sense and weakly trying to fight off the poison of the spice.

At the end of the spiral you see a figure, a source of all the death and misery that haunts you. A familiar, yet strange face that seemed to look into your soul. There is that rage and madness you started to see in your own reflection, only this gaze, this unnatural blue scared you more than your own demons.

Well, she is your demon in a way.

With that thought the spice floods your mind again, taking you where you wanted to go, forcing you down on the line of your ancestors, their knowledge and experience becoming a part of your consciousness but you know something is terribly wrong when your mind takes a path that no Bene Gesserit has before. You see your father and his entire line, both female and male members of your extended family tree on his part. And it comes surprisingly easy to you, too easy.

Your mother's line stops with her, there's something horrible beyond that which your mind cannot deal with and it almost shatters you.

On the inside you struggle to get out of the darkness that pulls you in. On the outside your body crashes, your heart stops, and so does your breathing.

You hear Paul's yell to the doctor to do something, followed by your mother's command, using the Voice to order you to breathe. With your last bit of strength leaving you, it feels like what you would call your soul starts to leave your body. It is quite peaceful actually, there's no more pain or worry, only a calm nothingness but unlike the previous cold and twisted darkness that came from within this feels right and you almost slip away from existence when you feel something, someone catch you and practically drag you back.

There's a voice, a command of a simple "No!" comes with the force that knocks you down and holds you in this world. The tone is unfamiliar, the raspy voice with the obvious rage laced into it sounds more like a growl than anything else and it is followed by a similarly angry, yet so much louder order, "FIGHT!"

The presence is gone as soon as it came but you are tethered to your body again, feeling how it shuts down sparks a sudden defiance in you. Not really knowing what you're doing, you will your heart's muscles to move, to pump the remaining spice through your body and your cells absorb it, sparkling to new life, then you slowly and now consciously start to sort of reboot your system with this new strange energy.

When you are done you just rest, unable to truly sleep but too tired to move too, you think. Going through the visions again and again, you start to see a pattern. As soon as you understand the reasons behind the events, it all comes together, all the previously possible paths become clear until a certain point.

Hours go by as you lie there, practically trapped in your own body but there's no fear in you anymore, you are too busy planning your next move. And the next, and the next.

You might have failed getting through the Spice Agony and it's a miracle you are alive but it doesn't matter, it wasn't an unnecessary risk after all, you know the truth now. There is only one person who's decisions changed the end game, all the others who you thought had enough power to be key persons could only influence the path, not the outcome. So you know, your mother can never set foot on Arrakis and if you have to take her place in the story, so be it.

• Series masterlist • Next part •

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#feyd #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x you #my stuff #my fics

[reputationmunson]

Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

part one | part two | part three | part 4

series summary: steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: a day at the lake with the Harringtons followed by a night out

content: steve and reader arguing (what’s new), drinking, swearing, these two idiots being in love, she/her pronouns, use of y/n

word count: 3.3k

_

You wake up with a wine-induced headache and you look over to see the spot next to you empty.

Yeah, you and Steve kissed last night, but so what? It didn’t mean anything. It was simply all part of the plan to be a more convincing couple. It would be weird if you guys didn’t share a quick peck every now and then if you were so ‘in love’ like you claimed to be, right?

You quickly shake it off and leave the bedroom to find out where Steve went. You’re half expecting to find a note that says ‘hey that kiss made me wanna flee the country. see you never’

Instead, you see Steve sitting on the front porch in one of the rocking chairs, taking in the scenery.

“Good morning” you say and sit down in the chair next to him. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a nod instead. You refuse to let it be awkward. The weekend has only begun and there’s no way you’re going to let a dumb kiss that meant absolutely nothing make everything weirder than it already is.

“Remember when we kissed last?” you try to lighten the mood. “Do we really have to talk about that? It’s been bugging me all morning”

“Oh, so you’ve been thinking about me all morning, huh?” you tease and he lets out an irritated sigh “do you not know how to be serious about anything?”

“What's there to be serious about? We kissed, for scientific reasons I might add, and it doesn’t have to be weird.” you shrug like it’s no big deal. Except it is a big deal, to Steve, at least. The kiss wasn’t terrible, he might’ve even liked it and he doesn’t want to be dramatic, but that might be the worst thing that’s ever happened. “It is weird though, isn't it?”

“Why? because you liked it?” you ask, expecting him to immediately deny it, but he doesn’t. “Steve? you liked it, didn’t you?” you boast. “No! no, I didn't like it. It was just really stupid and I think it’s insane that you don’t regret it”

“Oh my god, Steve. It was a kiss! You didn’t even hesitate, you practically jumped at the opportunity! then, you initiated the second one!” you proclaim. “Jumped? You were the one making that face!” he argues and you scoff “Face? What face? I was not making a face!” you insist and his eyes roll. “Oh, you so were. You were all like ‘Steve, please kiss me! I’ll even pout my lips and bat my eyelashes at you’” he attempts to make the look that you were allegedly making last night.

“Are you admitting that you think I’m irresistible?” you smirk at him and the triumphant look on his face immediately disappears. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” he says, avoiding an answer to your question. “Yeah, okay, but you still think I’m irresistible” you chaff and he stands up. “You’re about as irresistible as a bed of nails that got set on fire. Now, if you’re done arguing with me, we gotta get ready”

“Ready for what?” you question “There’s a private beach around here and my family wants to go in about an hour” he tells you as you follow him inside. “An hour?! Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” you chastise. “Because you were too busy drooling on your pillow this morning and no, you don’t have time to yell at me because you’re gonna need all the time you can get to look decent before we leave”

_

Apart from the human embodiment of stepping on a piece of gum in a new pair of shoes that is Steve Harrington, today was a lovely day. The sun was shining and there was a cool breeze that balanced perfectly with the weather, making the heat more bearable. The beach was nice, too. It was secluded and Steve’s family were the only people here. Now, if only you could find a way to leave Steve stranded that would make this day even better.

“You finally made it! We were starting to worry!” Steve’s mom, Joanne, greets you. “Sorry about that, Steve forgot to tell me about it last night so I got a late start getting ready” you explain.

“That’s Steve for you. Communication and time-management skills shouldn’t go on his resume if he ever decides to get a real job” His dad chimes in and you can’t help but feel a little bad. “Oh, no, he’s usually always great when it comes to that. We just all have our off days” you defend him and Steve gives you a slight smile as a way to thank you.

“Exactly, George, give Steve a break. I know it’s a little early, but I brought some wine if you’d like some, y/n. It is a vacation after all.” Steve’s mom seems to drink a lot of wine, but if you were married to someone as condescending as George, you would too. “I’d love a glass, thank you”

You sit with Joanne on a blanket while Steve goes over to join his cousins. She pours you a hefty glass of wine and you decide she’s your favorite Harrington.

“How are you two enjoying the house? I know it’s a little small, but we wanted you to be close to us” Their definition of ‘small’ is much different than yours. “It’s perfect, thank you, again. Steve and I had our coffee this morning while admiring the view” okay, you didn’t have coffee, you had a little disagreement, but you were still admiring the view.

“Steve seems absolutely smitten with you. I know I have my faults as a mother, but I still have my instincts and they tell me that maybe in a few years we’ll have another wedding to put on our calendars”

“Oh, I um-”

Before you can get a response out, Steve comes out of nowhere and you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful for his presence. “We've been challenged to a game of chicken. best two outta three, you in?”

“hm, I don’t know. Do you have to be my partner? I would like to win” you tease. “yes, because it’s couple versus couple and you know you can’t win without me. c’mon” he offers his hand to help pull you up off the ground.

When you pull off your bathing suit cover up, Steve knows he should look away. He shouldn’t care that the one-piece you’re wearing in the god awful shade of your signature color, hugs your body perfectly. His eyes definitely shouldn’t briefly flick down to your ass when you bend over to set the coverup on the blanket, but they do.

“Ready?” you ask, pulling him out of whatever weird trance he was just in. “y-yeah. let’s go”

“What did my mom say? you looked a little freaked out back there” he asks once she’s out of earshot. “something about you being just so head over heels for me and how we’re going to be married in a few years” you let out a sigh like it’s something to brush over. “Don’t listen to her, she’s drinking too much wine. Something you guys seem to have in common”

“how else am i supposed to cope with being your lover”

“gross. don’t say that” he whines and you laugh at him as you always do.

“this water is freezing!” you squeal as the water comes to the shore. “hm, really? how freezing?” he asks with a tone that sounds like he has a plan. “that’s a dumb q-” before you can finish your insult, Steve lunges at you and his arms wrap around your waist and he drags you deeper into the water.

“Steve! let me go!” you screech. “if you insist” he replies before dunking you into the water. You get a hold of him and pull him down with you. There’s no way you were going down without a fight.

You both emerge from the cold water, laughing and neither of you have a look of anger on your faces. Which is strange because usually just the sound of each breathing is enough to set either of you off, but you rarely ever see him have fun. It’s kind of nice to see him let loose even if that means being submerged in frigid water.

“If you lovebirds are done, we’re ready to take you down now” his cousin shouts and you both quickly retrieve your touch from one another. “you think you’re gonna be alright with my legs on your shoulders?” you ask him, not meaning for it to intend to sound as dirty as it came out and his cheeks turn pink. “my god, Steve, stop being a perv and squat down. We are not losing this game”

Steve crouches down so you can sit on top of his shoulders. He hands grip your thighs to steady you and you thread your fingers through his hair to keep your balance. He notices that your thighs are soft and smooth. It’s probably from the lotion that you constantly put on ‘cause you smell nice too. He hopes this game is over as soon as possible.

As the ‘battle’ starts, his grip on your thighs tighten, but you don’t have time to focus on the way it’s making you feel when you’re worried about trying to take down the other team.

You win surprisingly fast. Steve was expecting an immediate takedown that resulted in your flying off of his shoulders. Actually, it was more like hoping than expecting. You’re unexpectedly competitive. Steve figured since you’re so sweet and shy (other people’s words, definitely not Steve’s), that you’d go done in a split second, but you stuck to your guns. He’s decently impressed.

“I’m gonna take a walk to dry off. do you wanna join me?” he asks once you’re out of the water. “yeah that sounds nice”

As you walk, your arm wraps around his and he accepts it without question. “I’m gonna say something but don’t let it swell your ego any more than it already is” he starts and you refrain from a sarcastic comment. “I'm having fun with you today and I guess it’s not totally awful that you’re here”

“Should we get you to a hospital? I think there’s a blood-sucking leech in your brain”

“yeah, i think so too” he looks over at you and sees you're already looking at him. The sunshine really does something to his eyes and makes the freckles on his face more noticeable, you could almost connect them like a constellation. Maybe there’s a blood-sucking leech in your brain too.

“I'm having a good time too. Ya know, despite having to constantly be around you” you joke and he chuckles. “well lucky for you, the guys and I are going out to some bar so you’ll have the place to yourself for a while”

“thank god. i’m going to need some time to recover from being nice to you”

“you and me both, y/n. you and me both”

_

With Steve being gone, you had planned a relaxing evening. There was a little general store not far from the house and you’d gotten all the necessities; snacks, a face mask, and some stuff for a bubble bath. You’re about to start a bath when you hear a knock at the door and you pray that Steve isn’t back already.

“Hi!” One of the Harrington wives, Mary, greets you when you open the door. “Hi! Steve isn’t here-”

“Oh, I know. I’m here for you! Are you still getting ready?” She asks when she notices your robe and face mask. “Getting ready for what?” you question. “We’re meeting the guys at the bar! Didn’t Steve tell you?”

“Y-yeah, he did. I just thought it was a pity invite” you lie. “I don’t really have anything to wear for a night out”

“Honey, let me tell you something that I wish someone told me when I first joined this family; never travel without your favorite little black dress when you take a trip with the Harringtons. Especially us young ones. Those boys always go out”

“I don’t have a little black dress. '' You mumble, a little embarrassed. “Lucky for you, I always bring an extra. Here, try it on!” she hands you a dress from her bag along with a pair of black heels to match. Steve is definitely going to make fun of you for this.

You were expecting to feel out of place in this dress, but honestly, you look hot. The dress is a spaghetti strap with a simple square neckline and it’s shorter than what your choice might’ve been, but it’s stunning.

“Oh my gosh, you look incredible! Steve won’t be able to keep his hands off you” she squeals.“I don’t know about that…” you mutter. “Please. I see the way he looks at you and once he sees you in this dress he’s going to lose it”

People keep talking about the way Steve ‘looks’ at you and you’re starting to think they’re just saying it to say it. How can they confuse his looks of dislike and revulsion with love? No wonder Steve thinks his family is crazy

“Alright, I brought us some drinks and they aren’t going to drink themselves. Let’s get to it!”

_

“Hi, boys. Miss us?” Mary announces once you all approach the half-circle booth the boys are sat at. Steve does a double take when he sees you. Not only was he not expecting to see you here, he definitely wasn’t expecting to see you in that dress.

“Hi, Stevie” you say in a sing-song voice. There’s no denying you’re already a little tispy. Your eyes are glassy and you have a loopy grin on your face. “Hi, babe. I thought you were staying in tonight?”

“I was going too but I just missed you. I hope it’s okay I’m here”

“Oh, it’s fine” One of the men interjects. “Steve’s been talking about you all night”

“I have not. They’ve been asking about you and I’ve been answering questions” he explains. “And what have you been saying, Stevie?” you wonder. “He was just telling us-”

“Alright, that’s enough. How about you grab a chair and sit down, yeah?” You look around to try and find an empty chair but with the bar being crowded, there aren’t any available. “Just sit on Steve’s lap! None of us are prudes, clearly” Mary says and you look at Steve with hesitance. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just hop on” hop on? he repeats in his head. He can’t believe he just said that.

You sit on his lap like it’s something you’ve done a million times before. Your arm wraps around his shoulders while his arm wraps around your waist. Once you’re seated comfortably, his hand comes to rest on your thigh, a little too close for comfort. Your breath hitches slightly and you hope Steve didn’t notice. He did notice, and he’s planning on using this against you later.

Steve can’t focus on any of the conversations happening because the only thing on his mind is the fact that he doesn’t entirely hate your closeness. He blames it on the alcohol coursing through his veins. You look rather pretty tonight and you smell so good that it’s more intoxicating than the drink in his glass.

He absentmindedly begins to rub your thigh and you let out a small gasp, causing him to smirk. “Sorry. Just keeping up appearances” he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s fine” you whisper back.

Except, it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t that his touch was making you uncomfortable, it was the complete opposite and that was the problem. You felt yourself melting into his touch and craving it every time his hand left your thigh so he could take a sip of his drink.

You feel like you should regret not staying back at the house, but you don’t. Not even a little bit.

_

“You have to turn the key to the right, Steeevvvee” you drunkenly whine as Steve tries to unlock the front door. “I am turning it to the right” he whines back, mocking your tone. “That’s the left” you point out. “You try it then” he challenges. “Watch and learn, pretty boy”

The key doesn’t budge. You turn it left, you turn it right and nothin’. “Watch and learn. I’m soooo much smarter than Steve” he mimics you as you drop the key on the porch. “It’s broken! What’re we gonna do?” you pout, standing close enough that your chest is flush with his. “Follow me”

You follow Steve to a window that’s slightly open a little higher up than other windows. “I can’t climb through that window in a dress!” you exclaim. “Well, you can’t lift me, so up ya go”

“That is so sexist”

“I know, I’m the worst, blah blah blah. C’mon, let’go” Steve hooks his hands together for you to use as a step. You grip his shoulders and once you're balanced, you’re able to grab the window frame. “I need more of a boost” you tell him. “This is all the boost I got”

“Then throw me!”

“Are you insane? I’m not gonna throw you!”

“We’ll sleep outside, then”

“I have an idea, but don’t punch me! I’m gonna have to touch your butt” he giggles like a four-year-old when he says ‘butt’, making you giggle too. “Lucky you, then. Try not to bust in your pants, okay”

“You sure are confident when you’re drunk. Okay, on three” Steve counts to three and pushes you as much as he can until you’re able to pull yourself through the window. “I’m in!”

“Yeah, I see that. Go unlock the door” he says and you shake your head. “Oh, no no no. If I had to do this, so do you. It’s fun!”

“Why do you have to make everything difficult?”

“Scared you can’t do it?” you taunt. “What was that you said earlier? Watch and learn?”

Steve starts to climb the house and you can’t help but laugh at how many times he slips. Once he’s almost made it, you grab his hand and pull him into the house causing him to topple you to the ground and throwing you both into a fit of giggles.

“Alright, I admit that was fun” he says, a bit breathless. “I know. I’m full of great ideas”

You both stand up and flop onto the bed. “I’m ready to go to sleeo” Steve says with a yawn and closes his eyes. “Noooo, you can’t sleep in those clothes. That’s so uncomfy”

“I can’t move” he grumbles. You move to stand at the foot of the bed and reach your arms out to him. “Get up. Just grab my hands” he lazily grabs your hands and you let out a groan as you pull him up. “Hey, I’m not that heavy” he laughs. “If you say so”

Neither of you have moved from where you’re standing. Your hands are still holding his and his face is close to yours that you could count his eyelashes. “You look really pretty tonight” he whispers like he’s afraid you’ll hear him. “You don’t have to say that. No one’s around”

“And if I said I wanted to kiss you… what would you say to that?” his hand comes up to cradle your cheek and you lean into his touch.

“I’d say it’s a bad idea” you slightly lean in “I know” he leans in closer.

“We hate each other”

“We do”

“And we really shouldn’t kiss ‘cause I don’t think I’ll be able to stop”

“Okay” His nose brushes yours, but his lips press against your cheek instead. This is the one time you wish he wouldn’t listen to you.

“I wouldn’t be able to stop either” Steve confesses before going to get changed in the bathroom, leaving you to feel more confused than you’ve ever felt.

Fuck.

_

taglist: @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus @freezaz123 @whisperingwillowxox @buckysmetalhand @clincallyonline17 @x-theolivia @realsuper-dark @eddiesguitarskills @megxplryxb @alicetweven @calmoistorm @impossibelle @k-k0129

(for some reason there were a few blogs that i wasn’t able to tag:( i apologize!)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington

[stayxlix]

TUTTER IN THIS BITCH, FINNA GET CRUNK, EYEBROWS ON FLEEK, THE FUCC? AHH IT ALWAYS MAKES ME SO HAPPY WHEN YOU POST. MY INVESTMENT IN THIS SERIES IS INSANE.

Oooooo I don't have real words to describe how much I love your work, so I'll make a new one lol. 🧚‍♀️✨ Wonderfying ✨️🧚‍♀️ just absolutely wonderful and electrifying lol.

Monkey knuckles, coming from the bottom of my heart I'm SPEECHLESS.

"A knife adorned with an intricate floral design, mercilessly embedded in your heart." WHAT!!! IM GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST!!!! MAKE IT STOPPPPP!!! PLEASE! IM SHAKING! IM SHAKING OH GOD!

DELICIOUS! TASTY! INDUCING SADNESS! A FEW WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW I FEEL!! I NEED TO BE SEDATED👹👹👹

On a more serious note, please don't ever rush your work, take your breaks, and know that I'd wait an eternity for a chapter as scrumptious as this! -👹

MY TUTTER.👹💕IT ALWAYS MAKES ME SO HAPPY WHENEVER I GET A NOTIFICATION FROM YOU. YOUR ENERGY IS SO UNIQUE AND IT BRIGHTENS MY DAY EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

"wonderfying" is so cute and creative and i love it so so much, crying bc nobodys ever made me a whole new word before.😭 tbh i don’t have real words to describe how your asks and comments make me feel either…maybe ecstastic??? ecstatic and fantastic?? (lmao i tried okay, maybe it’s better if i just leave the word making to you..🥹)

if you’re speechless then i guess it means i’ve done something right.🤭 that last line was definitely meant to induce a sense of sadness/heartache (along with like half of the rest of the chapter lmao) so im giggling to myself rn knowing that it resonated with you in this way.

your positivity and excitement is SO infectious and provides me with endless motivation.💕 i promise ill try not to leave you hanging for tooooo long until the next chapter comes out, although i really do appreciate that you always encourage me to take my time🥹 (more than you know💛). its readers like you who breathe life into the narrative and give these characters and their experiences such depth and meaning. it keeps me inspired to write and weave this story, and i’m very thankful for the bond we've formed through our shared love for these characters and their world.🥹

until the next notification lights up my screen, take care my crazy little friend👹🫶so much love for you alwaysss.🤗💕

#alex answers asks♡ #otde.feedback #👹

[heartofspells]

You ever think about Sirius’s reputation post-arrest acting like he was the most dangerous of all the Death Eaters and Voldemort’s right hand, and his sole crime was killing one wizard and several muggles (who can’t defend against magic and wouldn’t have understood what they were seeing), and Bellatrix (and three others) tortured two trained aurors into insanity, essentially orphaning Neville? Dolohov and four others murdered Fabian and Gideon Prewett, we’re told it was a brutal fight, why was Sirius’s alleged crime considered to be the worst? It can’t just be that Harry was made into an orphan, because Bellatrix essentially did the same thing to Neville, yet Sirius is made into the most dangerous; I get that the betrayal aspect of Sirius’s crime would probably inspire more rage from the public, but that doesn’t actually make him more dangerous. Besides, Sirius’s fight was over in minutes, while Bella’s presumably lasted quite a bit longer considering just what happened to the Longbottoms and that we know Hermione was not rendered insane later (it was likely due to the length of time Bellatrix had Frank and Alice, since we know they were trained aurors rather than a 17 year old girl weak from malnutrition), how is it that Sirius was the one considered so dangerous?

That's...something I've never thought about, actually. But you raise a very good point.

Bellatrix, along with the others, must have had Frank and Alice held captive and been torturing them for countless hours. Pain is a terrible thing, but for it to lead not one, but two people to insanity, for their minds to almost literally leech away from them until they're no longer themselves, wouldn't be a quick thing that happens in an hour. We saw the effects the Cruciatus curse had on people. Harry himself experienced it. Their entire bodies locked up, every nerve was set on fire until they felt like they were boiling inside their skin. I seem to recall mentions of some even experiencing broken bones from the ordeal, though that might have been a fic, but I can believe it. Once they gave in and began thrashing in agony, it's not that far of a stretch to think there would have been apparent physical ramifications. And you know Bellatrix wouldn't have just started the spell and let it go on and on. She would have stopped. She would have drawn it out for as long as possible because she was angry and likely already halfway insane at that point, even before Azkaban. So there's no way in my mind that this didn't last for hours or possibly even days.

So for Sirius to be considered the most dangerous, though I'm sure Bellatrix was likely up there with him, is an interesting concept and discussion.

I likely think it had something to do with his connection to the Potters and Harry. I'm sure it was touted up because Harry was, by that point, The Boy Who Lived, the defeater of Voldemort. And Sirius was held responsible for that and his parents' death. He also (in the world's eyes) took out 13 Muggles and his friend in one go. It wasn't individual attacks. It was one explosion, something I'm sure most others would view as something that took immense power and skill. So that alone spells danger to anyone who looks at it.

But here's the thing. We only see all this AFTER Sirius escapes. Until then, he's never mentioned other than in passing about his bike in the first chapter of the first book (before his encounter with Peter on the street had happened, since Dumbledore, McGonagall, or Hagrid never mention it). People only talk about him with dread and fear when he's out in public again, when he can't be found. The very fact that he escaped at all likely increased his danger and threat levels, since no one can figure out how he did it, and because no had ever done so before. You've also got to take into consideration how media works, even in this fictional universe. The Daily Prophet was known for overexaggerating things to induce fear, the same as our own media does constantly. They pushed Sirius' story, pushed the Harry angle of it. They incited that anxiety, overtold his story and the things he'd supposedly done. The ones that had known him (like McGonagall) were likely still baffled by the entire thing, trying to make sense of it still after so many years. So much death and destruction, something that had left a small boy without a true family. And Fudge was an obnoxious coward to the core of himself. He pushed that fear propaganda because he was terrified of everything coming up behind his back like a monster with dulled teeth.

I don't think directly after Halloween '81 that Sirius was regarded as more than a war criminal who had done terrible things. I don't think there was much fear surrounding him, other than what would hold true for anyone in that situation being viewed from a distance, through pictures and stories in a paper. There were likely those that scoffed and shook their heads in disappointment, claiming they'd always known and those closest to him should have as well because once a Black, always a Black, a dark wizard pretending to hold light in his heart and fooling all those around him into false trust.

But I don't think Sirius was ever regarded as the "most dangerous" until after his escape, something that was only increased when another, larger breakout occurred two years later and was pinned on him.

#sirius black #i could talk about this for hours and days #anon asks #ask #answer #lovely anons #bellatrix lestrange #frank longbottom #alice longbottom

[wondereads]

The Ballad of Never After by Stephanie Garber

I normally don't review second-in-series on their own, but I was lucky enough to receive an ARC for this book, so of course, I have to talk about it! I will say, I was very pleasantly surprised by this book, so I have a lot of positive things to say. Forewarning: there will be spoilers for Once Upon a Broken Heart, the first book, in this review, so read at your own risk.

First things first, I want to establish how I went into this book. I read Once Upon a Broken Heart last year, and while I enjoyed it, I thought it was pretty weak compared to Caraval, Garber's other series, and the characters were a little underdeveloped. However, I had high hopes for The Ballad of Never After as I was anticipating a lot of change, especially in Evangeline, the main character.

Starting off the book, I was concerned. It seemed that it had just cycled back to the situation in Once Upon a Broken Heart, with Evangeline getting tugged around by Jacks, but it quickly branched out from that. It was clear that Evangeline had learned her lesson, and she was much more proactive in the narrative. She was seeking out answers, tracking down people who could help her, and she was discovering things rather than having things revealed to her. I found myself getting much more invested in her character, and she also managed to hold on to her optimistic outlook.

Jacks also became much more likable. I've pretty much hated his guts up to this point, but as his history was unearthed I came to like him more and more. His decisions, especially at the end, gave me much more hope in the romance, and I found I could genuinely root for him this time around.

The plot was much more complex than in the first book; I was desperate to figure out what was going on, and the story and worldbuilding interacted with each other a lot more. The mystery of the arch and what is beyond it, especially what Jacks and the other characters want with it, is incredibly gripping. The reveals—of people's identities and their pasts—were very well done, and they were built up to rather than being dropped on the reader.

This book isn't perfect; the first couple of chapters are a little weak and the ending is rushed. Also, Marisol has practically vanished in this book; she and Evangeline interact once, in which Evangeline goes through a very important realization, but then it's over. There is a lot of stuff left unresolved, and combined with literally the most insane, horrendous, stress-inducing cliffhanger I've ever read, there better be a third book.

Overall, this book far exceeded my expectations. It kept the things I loved about OUaBH and expanded upon things I thought were lost opportunities. The characters got the development they deserved, and the plot got more intricate as the story continued. Evangeline and Jacks in particular became so much more likable to me, and the romance was just better and easier to root for. The plot twists were amazing, and I literally can't wait until book three—and it's not even announced yet!

Overall Rating: 9/10

The Author

Stephanie Garber: American, also wrote Caraval

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every week, and I do themed recommendations every once in a while. I take suggestions! Check out my about me post for more!

#books #the ballad of never after #stephanie garber #once upon a broken heart #arc #discussion #fantasy #ya #romance #jacks #caraval

[misqnon]

hi one piece anon back again. i shall call myself march so that next time i send in an ask i dont have to type out "i sent the asks about one piece" (too wordy. much easier to just write a name)

i so appreciate ur 2k words ,, i think u have successfully eliminated my anxiety abt talking too much !! ur very sweet 🥹 thank u /p!! electronic pen pals!!! that is so fun !! :D

i went back to watch wano after catching up (im like halfway through the arc) and genuinely the animation is so good!! (its also rly funny because they made zoro super sexy at every opportunity.. they upped his fanservice by a million. i love it. as a zoro fan.) its probably worth it to watch the anime for that part if ur interested?? although the pacing is still super slow so it might be better to read the manga first and THEN watch wano if ur still hyperfixated on one piece at that point. i went back to wano cuz i was feeling sad about being caught up and not having any more content to consume.

ive seen clips of the fights and they look so fantastic and cool and hype and AGH . i havent gotten to any big fights yet but its been a lot of fun seeing the characters all colored and .. moving. its also kind of sad to watch though cuz you can TELL some of the voice actors are really struggling. my love franky.. i love his voice acting but he sounds so rough in wano :((. his is probably the most obvious example but if u pay attention u can tell with most of the voice actors who've been doing the show for a long time.

i havent watched the live action because netflix sucks (i dont live with the account owner currently and i HAVE TO if i want to use netflix) but i have seen how many people have gotten into one piece bc of it, and i have seen a lot of clips. and i know people love it and its very highly regarded. (also i kinda love what they did with sanji (i miss his twirly eyebrows though 😭)) so i have a lot of respect for it despite never watching it myself!! im also so excited for "the one piece" bc even though i know next to nothing about it, if its adapting this wonderful universe full of lovable characters in a way that actually HELPS the manga rather than HURTS it.. well. how could i complain.

i DO think u got into one piece at a really good time!! ive heard a lot of "if you want to get into one piece, this is your last chance" and "now is the best time to start one piece" and i think theyre right. although hearing its your "last chance" is kind of anxiety inducing personally LOL. i think itll be really difficult to avoid spoilers after the series ends though so in that sense.. theyre probably correct. at the pace youre going i dont think one piece will end before you catch up. oda's on a 3 week break right now too so imo you have plenty of time!! i think wano is about 150 chapters and theres a LOT going on so it might take you a while, but this is the final SAGA not the final arc dont worry!! im picturing the straw hats visit at least 2 more islands after the current arc. although obviously im not oda so i have no idea if thats accurate LOL

i think no matter what im gonna feel like i have questions unanswered when one piece ends, just cuz i am so insanely invested in . the whole world of one piece. i want to know everything about everything. but i DO think oda will answer the big questions, and i agree that he probably wont just leave us wondering. the newest arc is already kind of answering a lot of questions (and... developing MORE mysteries LMAO)

i hope i didnt make you feel like its WRONG to like sanji bc it isnt!! just cuz i cant get behind him doesnt mean that i think people who like him are bad people or anything remotely like that. i mean. i love doflamingo. and hes an AWFUL person. i hate his guts... but i love him. hes such an interesting character and i want to dissect him and analyze him and . i love to think about him. and hes comforting in some weird way.

so u loving sanji is no issue!! i dont want u to feel like u have to defend urself (although i DO like hearing ur reasoning behind why you like him because its interesting, and it makes me think harder about how i feel about him).

also personally i dont see an issue with consuming media that is problematic in some ways. if the creator is a bad person i think its fine as long as ur not excusing their actions!! i would kind of rather not support oda because i dont like him as a person (which is a personal decision, im not gonna criticize people who support him financially), but i do LOVE one piece and yes. his biases DO affect the story.. but since i dislike oda i usually say "fuck the word of god" and do what i want with the characters. i think its a lot more fun that way!!

sanji is such a mess (affectionately) so i can definitely see the appeal!! half the reason i love one piece characters so much is bc theyre all so SILLY. so unbearably silly. they all have stupid moments, they all have funny moments, and i adore silly people. my dislike for sanji is, mostly, resentment borne out of my intense hatred for being pushed into a box by society. it is almost purely personal. like yes him being a pervert is disgusting and annoying and i hate it, but i think i would be able to ignore it if i didnt feel so personally attacked??? by him?? LOL. i think thats kind of silly tbh . i would usually be able to brush his pervertedness off as a flaw of oda's rather than something to blame sanji for. but since i already have some ... *intense* feelings towards him, the pervert thing just serves to fuel my anger.

but all of that is just My Personal Feelings about him!! i do love him in headcanon/fanon most of the time, and even if i hate him in canon i still also love him purely because hes a straw hat and i love and adore all of the straw hats. they feel like real people to me. and i am obsessed with them. i root for them at any chance and i believe they will find the one piece... if they werent the main characters and therefore guaranteed to find the one piece i would still believe in them 1000%!! <- big nerd thing to say .

also one thing i wanted to ask u about is if u noticed the parallels during whole cake island between sanji taking luffy food and the flashback of sanji taking sora food?? i LOVED that moment. he runs through the rain, has to try to keep a dog from eating the food, and when he finally gives it to the person its all soggy and wet and he apologizes. but they say its delicious. and they smile. i KNOW he was thinking of his mom at that moment with luffy. and i just... ugh.. sanji . sobbing . maybe u talked about rhis and i just missed it but I NEED to know that u saw it.. my favorite sanji lover

this is way more than 4000 characters so i have one upped you!! haha!! [triumphant] (lets hope it all fits in the ask box .. ive never written this long of an ask)

that works, very slay 👍 hi march!!

answering under cut as per usual

first of all i missed ur message bc it came in on april fools amongst all the boops 💀 i’m glad i happened to check my inbox jdnjvnvhv

you can call me mont! (or just misqnon, if you want) i am so glad my rambling eliminated ur anxiety bc i literally do not judge whatsoever and also clearly i am. Just as hyperfixated LMAO

WANO’S ANIMATION LOOKS SOOOO PRETTY…i wont lie ive watched a few clips bc i couldnt help myself. Im still in the middle of WCI but i want to get to wano sooo bad. And i probably will just read wano first (bc . time) but i ABSOLUTELY want to watch it at some point. And yes they 100% picked up on the zoro fanservice my god (i am ALSO a zoro fan. Sanji, robin, zoro, and franky are my fav strawhats and i love them all immensely) he is so goddamn buff in wano what the hell did they feed that guy…they beefed all the guys up in wano though it seems DSJNJKD

Speaking of wano zoro @ dykealloy made this. absolutely insane edit of Zoro, Mihawk, and Katakuri to the song CVNT by sophie hunter and it has a lot fo clips from wano that make me froth at the mouth (link here - be warned of explicit language, obv)

YEA THE VOICE ACTORS MANNN 😭 I prefer the dub bc i actually like everyone’s voices and its what im used to (except luffy, i do prefer sub for him) but i know the og voice actors are getting up there in age…Part of the reason i don’t like the sub as much is bc you can tell the VA’s are way older than the characters they’re voicing and it’s just a bit. Odd (as much as i love the VAs and obvi it’d be weird to change it at this point)

netflix does suck !!!! i was living with my bro at the time so i watched it on his account but yea i dont have access to watching it anymore either :( taz skylar my fucking beloved. The live action cast is all insane. Theyre so cute and funny every single one of them. If u have extra time u should watch all the funny cast videos they did on youtube where they play charades and do little prompts together. The clips of them interacting at cons and out doing promo for the show is usually pretty cute too. Opla wasnt perfect or necessary but it was fun as hell and u can tell the showrunners had a passion for the show. 

I keep making progress in chunks so hopefully i can catch up within the next few months 🧍ive been so busy i havent been able to read in a while! (and also. Whole cake makes me a bit emo) even 2 more islands like ur suspecting would be a blessing. I mean. They still have to go to elbaph right?? And raftel/laughtale so. Thats already 2. Okay i feel better already lmao)

Im so curious about egghead im going insane but i will refrain. Somehow i havent seen any spoilers for it YET (aside from some stuff about bonney and kuma)

ALSO YOU DID NOT MAKE ME FEEL LIKE ITS WRONG TO LIKE SANJI LMAO you were super nice and didnt imply anything i just have catholic guilt about liking him. No one has even ever said something to me in that manner i just know he’s. Complicated. And also sometimes he Sucks. So i’ve thought about it a lot (clearly). 

And coming off of that DUDE I LOVE DOFFY. I watch a lot of melonteee on youtube and even before i was anywhere near doffy they had me on the doflamingo train. He is so insane and weird and downright evil. i drew him one time 😶‍🌫️My last big fandom back in like 2014-2017 was JJBA and my favorite character as Dio and let me tell you. The similarities between their characters is insane (oda / araki crossover event when,) 

The only difference is that doffy is written to be downright evil, while sanji is supposed to be seen in a good/humorous light even though his worst jokes are uh. Not great joke material (momoiro island and all of sanji’s weirdest pervert gags appears behind me). Thanks oda 👍i still get what ur saying though!

And tbh i dont blame you at all for disliking his (or any) character for personal reasons. Its really not that silly. Having recently discovered i might be kinda trans does not do his bits any favors lmao. And as an afab person who hates gender roles and sexism with a burning passion (and almost minored in WGS) BELIEVE ME the treatment of women in one piece pisses me off in a personal way all the damn time. But again, i blame oda for all this. Attacking oda with my hooves at all times every day at every chance

Looping back around to oda/problematic material ur very right. Maybe its bc i was raised on tumblr from age 12 through the worst of the Social Justice Discourse Era but i still get iffy about even consuming content that promotes gross shit in any capacity. I know im bending to the will of randos on the internet who dont even deserve my time or worry, but alas, thats my own problem. I do agree that to some extent i’ll say fuck it and enjoy stuff for my own enjoyment over being “woke” or whatever but there’s always a line to be drawn imo. But for op? Yea fuck it im finishing this damn historic manga if it kills me

I AGREE ABT FEELING LIKE THE STRAWHATS ARE REAL PPL…CALL ME SILLY. Part of it is the fact they’ve been around so long that half of them have existed for as long or longer as their actual canon age. Like. THEY’VE EARNED THAT HUMAN EXISTENCE AT THIS POINT RIGHT, 

Nah but their characterization is pretty damn well done if youre one of the characters oda doesnt sideline coughrobinfrankychopperbrookcoughcough 

And YES. YES I NOTICED THAT PARALLEL. I DIDNT SAY ANYTING BC I’D SEEN IT BEFORE ONLINE BUT I. WAS SO EMOTIONAL OVER IT. the fact that luffy is so special of a person to the whole crew that he can mirror people as important as their late mothers and just. augh,/. Fuck. they say the same line with that same smile….it’s just great storytelling. I dont like oda either but unfortunately he’s damn good at what he does most of the time. (am. Am i your favorite sanji lover. Is that me. Im so honored. he is such a mess but he is My Mess. Please tell me ur fav characters in the next ask (strawhat and otherwise!!)) 

Also damn u totally did one up me. Uhhh here since ur apparently a zoro lover pls take some of these drawings i did of him that i keep forgetting to finish/post in an attempt to one up ur one up)

#asks #replies #microphone effect #hey why is zoro so hard to draw btw </3 #i always tag these as asks and replies but i'll start tagging them as #march anon #too in case you ever need to see if i've replied!

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 11: Playing the Game

AN: I hope y'all enjoy this non-stop flirt-a-thon, chapter count got increased again, so we'll get back to the plot in the next chapter!

At first, Marinette didn’t know how to act. This was the last route she expected Damian to take. The shock of Damian’s lips against hers turned her body rigid; hands splayed out to the sides, unsure of where to touch. After a second of floundering, she gained enough bearing to place her hands firmly on Damian’s arms. Her once still lips hesitantly moving against his. The closed-mouth kiss stayed chaste, but Marinette found herself fluttering her eyes closed, sinking into the warmth.

Damian stood taller than her, bending into the kiss while she craned her neck. Marinette pushed herself upward, arching onto the tips of her toes, and Damian’s hands wrapped tighter around her waist, deepening the kiss. She readjusted her mouth for a second grabbing a quick gasp of air before diving in again with more fervor. Damian responded in kind, pushing her back fully against the wall, one hand migrating from her waist to cup her cheek.

Damn. Damian was a good kisser.

“What the- Hey, customers are not allowed to be in here!”

Oh, right. The employee. That’s why they were kissing.

Why would kissing be helpful in this situation?

Not that Marinette was complaining, but-

Damian pulled away from her, and Marinette held back a pitiful whine when he turned away and faced the employee.

‘Bad thoughts, Marinette,’ she chided herself. ‘Focus on the mission, not Damian, or his lips, or his eyes, or-’

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” said Damian with a bashful smile.

Wait…

Blink.

What?

Marinette dragged herself out of the kiss-induced bliss, focusing on her co-conspirator, and had she been less in control of herself her jaw would have dropped.

Damian’s whole demeanor had markedly changed. His normal sharp posture sunk into a causal slouch; the emotions on his face, generally a mix of sharp observation or practiced disdain, now a mix of charming elegance and, yes, bashfulness. He flashed a wide grin at the oncoming employee, a person in their early twenties, who froze when they saw them.

Or rather, Damian.

Rapidly blinking bright blue eyes gazed at them. “Oh, oh you- you’re-”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know who I am,” said Damian, rubbing the back of his neck. Even the way he spoke changed; careful pronunciation and formality thrown out the window for a lax New Jersian drawl. “What’s your name?” He asked with such a genuine smile, had Marinette not been versed in people lying through their teeth, she would have bought it.

Not for the first time, Marinette wondered how famous Damian’s family was – obviously rich enough, and high profile enough - to be recognized on the spot.

The person paused for a moment, fiddling with a strand of curly blond hair. “I’m- I’m ah… Fey, nice to meet you Mr.-”

Damian cut them off with a laugh. “Oh please, any name with a mister makes me think of my father or my older brother. Call me Dami.” He offered a hand to the flustered Fey. They limply shook it.

“Oh… ah- alright Dami.”

Damian encircled a hand around Marinette’s waist dragging her out of the weirdness induced fugue state she’d fallen into. “And this… well,” he lowered his eyes, catching her attention and winked. “This is my girlfriend Marinette.”

Fuck, this is what he meant by play along.

Fey dropped open their mouth before closing it quickly.

“Oh, I hadn’t read-”

Damian cut the flustered employee off again.

“We’ve kept it quiet.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The papers would devour a story like this,” he said, with a sense of vapid annoyance, although a trace of his normal calculated disdain accented his words.

Note to self; Damian didn’t like the media. Good, Marinette didn’t much like the invasive vultures either.

Fey nodded along, twirling a lock of hair on their finger. “Oh yeah, that totally makes sense.” They paused shaking their head to clear away an emotion… awe? Fear? Marinette couldn’t tell. “But uh, why are you here? Like in the stairwell, not in the store. Because of course celebrities would still shop, right? I mean-” Poor Fey was a stuttering mess. Marinette almost felt bad for them.

She felt like an absolute stuttering mess too, but she would be damned if Damian would carry this lie all by himself.

She was fucking Ladybug; savior of Paris, Guardian of the Miraculous.

She could act like a lovestruck fool.

“It iz so sweet,” she said, emphasizing her accent to add a little more pageantry to this entire scheme. “I just arrived back from Paris, and wanted to decorate my new apartment with ze ah-” she waved her hands around, “Oh, how you Americans put it? Fairy lights?”

Fey nodded quickly. “Yeah, we have a couple of good selections, but-” Marinette continued before they could logic their way out of the made-up cover story.

“I planned to go by myself, but Dami-” at this she moved forward to wrap her arms around his, leaning into his side. The warmth of his body bleeding through his clothes. “He insisted on ‘companying me even though he dozen’t like ze crowds.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “He gets grumpy,” she divulged with a girlish giggle. Why Damian did a 180 on his personality was a complete mystery, but if he dropped the act, this would make Fey less suspicious.

Fey nodded right along like Marinette’s comment made total sense. “Yeah, I don’t read too many magazines, but damn they must pin you all wrong,” they said to Damian. From Marinette’s position at his side, she felt his body tense the slightest amount. “Gotham’s Ice Prince, yeah right.”

Marinette inwardly quirked an eyebrow. ‘Ice Prince, huh?’ The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on where she’d heard it before.

Damian nervously chuckled again, sounding more authentic this time. “Oh no, I’m a grump when it comes to the media, I fully admit. My, ah,” he looked at her again, an apology flashing in his green eyes. “Angel here puts me in a better mood.”

A rushing noise filled Marinette’s ears, and her heart quickened. She vaguely registered a squeal of delight coming from Fey, but it sounded far away compared to her blood pounding at a thunderous level. Heat flushed in her cheeks, and the confident smile she plastered on her face almost dropped at the pet name.

Angel.

He called her angel.

What level of utter insanity had she dropped into?

“A few disguises later,” Damian continued, adjusting the glasses on his face, and oblivious of the turmoil he’d created in Marinette’s mind. “I thought we’d be able to stay under the radar, I just wanted a day out with my girlfriend,” he said with a put-upon sigh. The emotional, charming actions stood in complete opposite to Damian’s normal demeanor.

Marinette found herself desperately torn between breaking down laughing hysterically or clapping at Damian’s masterful performance.

“You got noticed?” asked Fey.

“We got noticed.” Damian sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. Marinette regretted not touching it while she and Damian kissed; was it as fluffy as it looked? “And Marinette, the sweet angel she is, isn’t used to the whole utter insanity of… you know, dating a celebrity.” He glanced at her, teasing her with a fonder smirk than his usual. Marinette wanted to roll her eyes. Damian had no clue she knew very well the consequences of dating a celebrity.

Never mind she’d only dated Adrian a month before they broke up because his dad turned out to be a psychopathic supervillain intent on plunging the whole of France into an apocalyptic hellscape in an attempt to upset the universes’ balance, and was fully okay with killing the both of them to make it happen.

Being friends after that little debacle was the better option. For both their sanities.

‘Focus Marinette.’ She dragged her attention back to the conversation.

“We kinda ducked in here when nobody was paying attention. I want to keep this away from the media as long as possible, for my angel’s privacy.” Marinette wanted to scoff at how Damian leaned into that nickname. He certainly was laying it on thick. Marinette wouldn’t have bought the act, but that was due to her years of lying and deceiving in the name of super-heroics.

Fey, with their eager demeanor and bright blue eyes, didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh, that’s awful people wouldn’t leave you alone. I bet most celebrities would be familiar with the attention, but for you to look out for Marinette too?” They whistled. “Damn girl, he’s a keeper for sure.”

The blush gracing Marinette’s cheeks was 100% real. “Oh, well, ah, zank you. I know.”

“Well, no one will hear a word from me,” Fey promised. They fiddled with their hands and sent a shy smile at Damian. Marinette’s stomach clenched at the sight, and without her permission, her traitorous hands tightened their grip on Damian’s arm. “Without your family’s scholarship, my sister never would have graduated med school. She would kill me if I even thought of ratting you out to the papers.”

“Oh…” said Damian, his outward appearance of shock mirroring Marinette’s own internal emotions.

‘His family is rich enough to fund medical scholarships?’

“Well, that’s not on me directly, you know,” he commented. “All my father’s doing. I hope- ah… I hope she’s doing well?” Although his face portrayed a bashful and relaxed air, his body language screamed uncomfortableness. Marinette released one hand from his arm and brought it to rest on the small of his back, circling her thumb around. He relaxed, slightly, and Marinette smiled.

“Yeah, actually she is,” said Fey beaming. “She’s working at the new pediatric clinic that opened in Crime Alley.”

“Good for her,” said Damian honestly. “We need more people willing to work to make the city a better place. Money can only do so much.”

“Money definitely helps though,” Fey replied, wryly. Marinette agreed. Long-buried memories of her early years arose. Living above her parents’ shop, where every month they spread their bills across the kitchen table and talked in hushed tones while Marinette sat on the steps to her attic room and worried, even if at five and six she didn’t know what she was worried about.

Those days were long gone. Her parents and their creations internationally famous, with three separate locations across the greater Paris metro alone. But that worry never really went away.

Fey shifted on their feet reading their watch. “Well, you guys stay here if you want until whatever crowd out there loses interest.” They gestured to the door Marinette and Damian entered through. “Or you can come with me if you want?” Pointing to the other locked door. “I’m heading out to the atrium to deal with a problem, but you can continue on with your shopping.”

“Zank you so much,” Marinette replied. “We will go with you if you do not mind?”

“Of course not,” said Fey, walking to the door and pulling out a security key. They opened the door, but Damian held it allowing Marinette and Fey to walk through before he followed. Placing a hand once more around Marinette’s waist.

“What problem in the atrium, if you don’t mind me asking?” he prodded, sharing a look with Marinette.

It could be nothing, but it could also have something to do with his brothers.

Considering their luck today, Marinette would be shocked if it wasn’t the latter option.

“Oh, well it started with the children’s center shutting down. Apparently, the kids got it in their minds to start a dodge ball fight with the workers. Which, you know, totally fair,” confided Fey, as they walked through the back corridors. “Sounded like it was a blast to watch. I was such a shit when I was a kid, I would have joined them in a heartbeat. It wrapped up fairly quickly, but they can’t convince the main instigator to descend from the jungle gym. I think they’re still hunting down her parents.”

Marinette pursed her lips trying to hold back a smile. ‘Oh, Abby,’ she thought, ‘you absolute gem.’

“I only heard about it from Lisa when I got back because I was dealing with a security issue in the back lot.” Fey glanced at them nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong, we’re perfectly safe.”

Marinette and Damian shared a look.

Jason.

“Of course,” said Marinette.

Followed by a quick, “Absolutely,” from Damian.

Fey relaxed. “So this is, apparently, a whole bunch of workers on strike? They walked out of the back warehouse and congregated in the atrium, spouting on about living wages and corrupt big business, and the effects of verbal abuse in the workplace.” Fey said with a wave of their arms. “And it’s not like I don’t agree, because I do. Jerry, the warehouse general manager, is an asshole.” Marinette and Damian exchange worried glances at the rotund angry man’s name, who they last saw dragging a singed Tim into an office.

“…but it makes my job hard,” whined Fey, oblivious to their compatriot’s inner panic. “And the Starbucks baristas joined them, so their kiosk closed too.” Fey chuckled, “I would avoid the whole area if I were you, especially if you don’t want anyone finding out you’re together.”

“I wonder how zat ended up happening?” Marinette asked hopefully her high-pitched voice conveyed confusion instead of slowly settling in panic.

“They called in saying some guy lead the charge, he’s worked the crowd into a fervor. I’m there to be the HR rep while security tries to remove him. You know, normally my job involves sitting at a desk all day listening to bitchy customers on the phone. I’ve dealt with more in-store problems today since last Black Friday.” Fey chuckled. “What a day, ya’ know?”

Marinette glanced at Damian, his casual mask still firmly in place, although his left eye twitched, and the hand he wrapped around her waist, tightened at Fey’s words.

Fey finally reached another door, pulling out their pass and lead them out into the store’s main section.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Marinette, Dami,” Fey chirped. “Nobody will hear from me about any of this.” They mimed zipping their lips.

Marinette smiled, hoping the strain wasn’t too noticeable. “It waz nice to meet you too Fey.”

“Good luck with whatever is happening in the atrium,” said Damian. They stood at the door and watched them move out of sight. When Fey finally disappeared around a corner, Damian turned to Marinette his casual persona rippling away as if it never existed at all. His hand slipped off her waist.

She did not, absolutely not, want to grab it and put it back thank you very much.

“How much do you wish to wager on Drake’s involvement in whatever is occurring in the atrium?” he asked. Marinette smiled, reassured at the return of his clipped and formal tone. The informal speech felt wrong coming from Damian’s mouth.

“Oh, I don’t know Dami?” she teased. Then again, she couldn’t let this opportunity pass by her. “I don’t think I have enough money for that bet with you.”

Damian closed his eyes with a grimace and sigh. “Do not call me that.” He opened his eyes, an expression just short of pleading radiated from them “Please.”

“I would rather gag, and it sounds so would you.” Marinette covered her grin with her hand, unable to stop a slight giggle at the man’s long-suffering tone. “You pulled off vapid lovesick celebrity well, but why the need to act at all?”

“I have plenty of reference to draw from,” he grumbled, piquing Marinette’s interest; every half aside comment enticing her to dig further at Damian’s life. “I needed whoever descended those steps on our side and my normal... demeanor tends to put people off.” He folded his hands behind his back, a perfect picture of casualness, but the tightness around his eyes and the twitch of his mouth was all Marinette needed to note his self-consciousness.

“Well, I for one find your usual self charming,” Marinette admitted, pleased when Damian relaxed at her words. “You freaked me out acting that weird.”

“It is not an option I use often,” Damian admitted. “My brothers tend to make big productions of themselves. I prefer a far subtler approach, but this required more theatrics to make it believable.” He glanced at her. “I hope…” he paused. She watched his hand flutter and turn into a fist at his side. “I hope I did not overstep your bounds, that is, I mean violate your...” Damian refused to look at her, his gaze firmly planted on a far wall.

Marinette could let the poor man continue but ended up taking pity on him before he dug an even deeper hole. She placed a hand on his arm. “You were fine. If I didn’t want you… kissing me,” she said the words out loud for the first time, reigning in a pleasurable shudder at the memory. “I would have pushed you off, and if I felt violated, which I didn’t, you would have found yourself on the ground in plenty of pain.”

Damian dragged his gaze back to hers, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “Undoubtedly, yes, you easily could have done so.”

Marinette smirked again, not willing to let the entire debacle slip away quite yet though. “Although I have to ask, where in the world did angel come from? And what on earth made you think it would be a good nickname for our fake relationship?”

Damian lifted his nose haughtily. “It is a perfectly acceptable name of affection for a significant other. What, did you wish for ‘sweetheart’ or ‘doll’?” he asked, drawing out those names with the earlier casual New Jersian accent. Marinette withheld a shiver at his low tone of voice curling those words around his tongue. She may prefer his normal speech, but damn he still sounded unbearably attractive when he dropped that low.

‘Focus, Marinette. FOCUS!’ she inwardly screamed at herself.

“Goodness no,” said Marinette, forcing a pretend shudder. “Something with more class perhaps? Darling, or beloved?”

Damian pursed his lips. “Not beloved. That’s what my mother refers to my father with.” Marinette winced, yeah, that could be awkward. Not that this whole conversation wasn’t a disaster plucked out of a fever dream. Why, why was she debating Damian on the finer points of affectionate nickname giving?

But her mouth continued talking. “Alright, I suppose angel isn’t bad in comparison. Still, it’s a bit cliché. What does that make you? A demon?”

Damian tilted his head with a shrug. “Tt. My brothers do call me that on occasion, yes.” Oh right, Jason called him demon-spawn a few times during their confrontation. With the way Damian rolled his eyes in annoyance, Marinette figured a story lurked behind that particular nickname.

“Regardless, we have strayed dangerously off-topic here. We should head towards the pandemonium in the atrium, yes?” Damian pushed off the wall he’d leaned against, and Marinette followed.

“I thought it was Panic at the Disco?” Marinette teased with a grin.

Damian pointed a finger at her, trying for a stern expression, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “You think yourself terribly clever, don’t you?”

“I think I’m adorable,” she shot back. “But I also think you’re right. It sounds like Tim managed to involve himself. If he’s making a scene, I bet he’ll draw the rest of your brothers there too.”

“You think Grayson will escape the clutches of that ravenous she-wolf?”

Marinette scoffed. “Damian, you’ll insult wolves with that comparison. I thought she resembled more of a hyena myself.” The woman certainly shrieked enough for it. “From what I saw, your brother probably ducked out at the first opportunity available to him.”

“True. Which leaves Todd, and nothing attracts his attention more than a spectacle. Especially when Drake stands chance to make a fool of himself.” Turning a corner they found themselves several yards away from the open-aired atrium. A crowd of people lingered around the railing looking into the courtyard below. Clapping and cheers fill the air.

“Shall we?” asked Marinette, excitement brewing in her chest.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” grumbled Damian. “But I suppose we must.”

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#the great ikea game #daminette #damian x marinette #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #maribat #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #damianette #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng

[mochegato]

Capturing a Dream

Chapter 1 - Meeting the Team

This was it.  She was excited.  No excited wasn’t the word.  Terrified? Yeah, that was closer.  Marinette was about to step into the Young Justice base for the first time and meet her new teammates.  What if they don’t like her?  What if they don’t let her join the team?  What if they let her join the team but they exclude her?  What if they get mad at her because she won’t expose her identity and they think she doesn’t trust them?  What if she messes up and she ends up getting someone killed?  What if she gets one of her teammates killed? What if she gets someone else killed? What if… No!  

She wasn’t going to do that.  She wasn’t the same 14 year old girl who spiraled into anxiety-induced, worst-case-scenario, death spirals.  She was 17 now.  She was in her final year of school before college, nearly an adult, legally, she was an adult.  She was the Guardian.  She was a hero.  She was already in a prestigious internship with one of the biggest names in fashion.  She was working with the Justice League, well Young Justice, but that was better because there wasn’t as much of a time commitment, which was really good because she didn’t have much to spare… where was she going with this? Right!  She was smart.  She was competent.  She was confident(ish).  She was… standing outside the zeta tube opening staring at it like an idiot, and she was going to be late.  

She took a deep breath and ran her free hand over the costume she wasn’t quite used to yet, trying to find comfort in the feeling and focus her mind.  She could do this.  She may no longer be able to be Ladybug for secrecy reasons, but Ladybug wasn’t her only option.  She was Chimera now and Chimera was not linked back to the miraculous.  So this new and completely un-miraculous affiliated hero definitely wasn’t unifying the fox and horse miraculous.  Chimera was a separate and unmiraculous hero.  She was a new heroic entity; a powerful amalgamation of divergent parts; an illusion, who uses illusions; a dream that can never be captured.   Chimera was just another magical hero working in the background.

Gone was the flashy, bright suit of a central hero.  She was a shadow now and her suit reflected her new role.  The base of the suit was a brown so dark, it almost looked black.  Her knee-high boots and gloves that reached to midway up her bicep were both black, meeting with the brown core of the suit with a strip of deep orange.  Her mask was the same dark brown color with deep orange at the corners.    She no longer had her yoyo, but in its place was a rope that responded to her like her yoyo did.  Her flute across her back completed her weaponry.

She was still a hero, just not a miraculous one, as far as anyone else knew. She was still protecting people for now, she just wasn’t on the front lines anymore.  She was still protecting the miraculous and would for the rest of her life.  And she was still… standing outside the Zeta tube opening, staring.

She closed her eyes, and walked through the portal.  Before she let out her breath, she could feel a difference in the air around her.  She heard a digital voice say “Recognize Chimera B12.”  She opened one eye tentatively and jumped back with a quiet squeak when she saw Batman standing on the other side giving her an amused smile next to Black Canary and a red figure.  

Black Canary stepped forward, “Welcome to Mount Justice, Chimera.  You’ve already met Batman.  This is Red Tornado.  He supervises the cave here.” Chimera nodded to him but before she could say anything Black Canary continued speaking.  “We are very excited to have you here.  While you are training and on missions, this will be your home.  I know you have an apartment near your internship, but if you ever want to get away, you are always welcome to stay here whenever and however long you want to.” Her voice was warm and welcoming.  She leaned over and lowered her voice, “lead lined walls and no bugs or cameras allowed in the personal rooms in case you want to drop your transformation while you are here.”  She gave her a nod and started walking, motioning to Chimera to follow her.

“As discussed before, your team knows nothing about you.  What you choose to disclose is your decision.  Only Batman and I know anything more.  The team is used to people hiding their identities so there is no pressure to give your personal identity.  I mean, there might be teasing, but you are under absolutely no obligation to divulge and they will respect that.  Especially since Robin is under the same requirement.”  

They entered into a small sitting area that appeared to be their common room. The first thing she noticed was a kitchen that was almost as nice as her parents’ kitchen in the bakery and significantly bigger.  She let out a quiet “Wow” without even noticing she had done it.  She would have to try that out as soon as she was able to get back to it.

“Pretty nice, huh?” She heard from behind her.  She whirled around and finally noticed the other half of the room were a few couches and chairs were clustered in front of a television.  More significantly, there was a red headed boy talking to her, standing in front of four other teens.  They were looking at her with uncertainty and a slight bit of curiosity except the red headed boy who looked excited to meet her, and the larger black haired boy who looked a bit hostile.

“Uh, yeah.  It’s… um, a really nice kitchen.  It looks… really professional.”  She stammered, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.

The red head smiled brightly at her.  “Only the best for the Justice League.”

“Alright team, it’s nice to see your smiling faces.” Black Canary started with more than a hint of sarcasm.  “I would like to introduce you to your new team member.  This is Chimera.”  Chimera gave an awkward wave to the Young Justice members.  “She was recruited by the Justice League.  Her identity is secret and will stay that way, am I clear?” She stared at each of the team members one at a time.  “Good. She is here under an outside deal so she may not always be available for missions, but she will be here whenever she can be.”

The red head raised his hand. “Wally, you don’t have to raise your hand.” Batman said tiredly.

“What is the outside deal?  What does that even mean?”

“It means something else brought her to our vicinity and she is only available to us because of that.  The details of the deal are not important.  Only that she is a hero on your team and every bit as dedicated to the team as the rest of you.”

“How is she as dedicated if she can’t commit to being here?” Artemis snarked quietly to Superboy.

“We all have outside lives that demand our attention.  There are times I can’t go out with the Justice League.  One of the others cover for me.  Are you suggesting I am not committed to the Justice League?” Batman stared harshly at her.

“No, sir.” Artemis shrunk back.

“I’m sorry, I have school and… other obligations, but I promise I will give you as much time and attention as I can spare without going insane.  Learned that the hard way.” She looked down as she muttered the last part under her breath.  She quickly looked back up hoping nobody heard her.  Everyone seemed to have the same expressions on their faces except Superboy who was giving her a quizzical look.  “I am committed to the team.  I want to be here, I promise.  Um… here, I brought macarons!”  She said with forced cheeriness, attempting to placate their suspicions and hostility. She opened the lid to the box of macarons she had brought with her.

Chimera’s hair blew back as Wally rushed forward.  He had already grabbed three macarons before she even saw him move. “These are delicious!  Where did you get them?”

“Thank you.  I made them. I like to bake.”  She smiled broadly at him.

Wally stared at her with his jaw open, the macaron close to falling out of his mouth. “Marry me.” He said dreamily.

Chimera giggled at him.  “How about I use the only-the-best kitchen to make something else for you a bit later instead?”

Wally gave her a bright grin.  “That will work.”  He looked at the rest of the macarons longingly then back at his teammates.  “Uh…. These are absolutely terrible and you shouldn’t have to be subjected to them.  I’ll just finish these off so you don’t have to.”  He reached back toward the box but Chimera closed the lid and raised an amused brow at him.

“Move over,” Robin pushed Wally to the side.  “Thank you Chimera.  That was sweet of you.”  He took a bite and looked back up at her with a smile.  “Hey, Wally was right.  These are delicious.  Artemis, Kaldur, Superboy, get over here and try these.”

Kaldur and Artemis came over, Artemis shoving Wally again for no apparent reason. Superboy stayed where he had been and continued to eye her suspiciously.  Wally looked at them with a pout.  “Hey!  Leave some for me.”

“You’ve already had a bunch.  The rest of us get some too.” Artemis rolled her eyes.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.  I need to eat.” Wally whined.

“Thank you… I’m sorry, I didn’t get any of your names.” Chimera said apologetically.

“Tall, blonde, and hostile is Artemis.  Tall, blonde, and aloof is Kaldur.  Tall, dark, and broody back there is Superboy.  You already met Wally, aka Kid Flash.  And I’m Robin.”  Robin gave her a charming smile and shook her hand.

She gave them all a brilliant smile.  “It is nice to meet you all.  I’m really excited to work with you.”  Wally smiled broadly at her and gave a lovesick sigh.  Artemis groaned and turned away.

Kaldur moved forward and extended his hand to her, “Welcome to the team.”

She shook his hand and gave him a warm smile.  “Thank you.”

“Okay, now that everyone has introduced themselves, let’s get to the training area.  I’m interested to see how Chimera’s powers work with the rest of yours.”  Black Canary announced.

“The training area is just this way,” Robin said with a suave smile, sweeping his arm out toward the direction they were supposed to move.

“Thanks,” Chimera smiled anxiously at him.

Wally came up on the other side of her and bumped his shoulder gently into hers.  “Don’t worry, we’ll take it easy on you.” He said with a wink.

Chimera looked at him blank faced for a few seconds before throwing him a sassy grin.  “It’s not me I’m worried about, speedy.”

“Oh no, Speedy was someone else.” Artemis threw in, moving past the group.

“You’re kidding.” Chimera stared at her.

“Nope.” Artemis responded popping the p.  “A whole different hero.  Not even fast either.  Makes no sense.”

“Good to know.” Chimera nodded absentmindedly.

“Oh, she can never meet Speedy.” Wally looked at the other heroes with wide eyes.

“Is he that bad?” Chimera asked, concern seeping into her eyes.

Artemis turned back to her and grinned wickedly, “No, he’s afraid you’ll start dating him.”

“Ahh.  I don’t date teammates so, don’t worry.”  Chimera reassured Wally with a clap on his back.  Artemis barely contained the chuckles that were fighting to spill out.

Wally gave her a distressed look, “But, teammates are great.  They are supportive and understand you… They’re… They’re the ideal dating material.”

“You make some interesting points.” She nodded as though contemplating his words.  “Luckily, you have very pretty and interesting teammates, four at least from what I can see.  So you have a wealth of dating material at your disposal.”  Chimera gave him a wink and walked ahead of him.  Artemis cackled loudly and threw her arm over Chimera’s shoulders, walking along with her.  “I think I’m going to like having you here.”

Chimera smiled at her.  “Good.  I hope so.”

Black Canary gave them a serious look and stood in the middle of the sparring area as the team lined up around the edges.  “Let’s get started.  This is an exhibition sparring match.  We want to see what you can do and what your teammates can do and see how you can mesh.”

“You don’t know what she can do?” Kaldur asked.

“I know. It’s you I’m concerned about.  You’re going to be working with her and leading her. You need to know what she can do. So, Chimera?  Go full force.  We want to know what to plan for in the field.”  Black Canary commanded.

Chimera looked at her unsure.  “Full force?  Are you sure? I don’t want to… That can be really dangerous.”

Black Canary nodded in understanding.  “I get that, but I assure you it will be fine.  We just need to see where you are in your skills, so we need you to give it your all.”

Chimera eyes got even bigger, “I’m not going to kill someone to prove a point.  I can do a demonstration instead.”

The rest of the team looked at her insulted.  Robin finally spoke up to scoff at her.  “We can take it.  We’ve dealt with worse.  Don’t worry.”

Ladybug looked back at him with wide eyes.  “It isn’t… I don’t think I’m a better fighter than you.  I’m positive you all have better training than I do, especially since I don’t have any, it’s just… I’ve brought down the Eiffel Tower with one hit before.  Thank god for miraculous ladybugs.  But you all look a bit more…” she struggled for an appropriate word to finish her thought, “…vulnerable.  I really don’t want to hurt any of you.”  She shot him a pleading look.

Superboy stepped forward with a determined look on his face. “Then try me.  I’m less…” he paused as if thinking, “what was that word you used… Vulnerable.”

She looked at him uncertain then looked over to Black Canary, taking note of her stern expression.  She nodded and stepped onto the mat.  “I’ll make it work.” Chimera offered uncertainly.

They faced each other for a few moments before settling into a fighting stance.  When she was ready, Chimera nodded to Superboy.  He rushed at her and extended his arm at the last second to deliver a haymaker punch.  Chimera bent backwards and twirled in a semi-circle so she was standing behind him and kicked him in the butt, sending him sprawling on the floor.  He got up and glared at her.  He rushed her again, this time aiming for her waist so she couldn’t duck under him.  She stared at him coming at her like a deer in headlights.  Superboy got a smug glint in his eye as he closed in on her.  At the last second, Chimera jumped up and rolled down his back, landing on her feet behind him, the wide eyed expression long gone.

“We need you to try, Chimera.  We need you to actually fight, not just dodge.”  Batman stated sternly.

Chimera looked over to him to nod at the instruction. The momentary distraction was enough for Superboy to land a hard hit to her stomach.  The force of the impact sent her flying across the mat.  The team winced and groaned in sympathy as she hit a wall with a hard thump.  Superboy moved over to her to check on her but stopped half way to her.   Chimera stood up and cocked her head to the side, examining Superboy.  She raised her brow and asked calmly, “So… super strength.  Invulnerability?”

He nodded at her.  “Okay then.”  She smirked at him, walking back to the central area of the room.  “Let’s do this.”  He smiled slightly and nodded.  She immediately launched herself at him, catching him by surprise.  She punched him hard enough to send him across the room in the opposite direction.  He slid toward the wall but was able to regain enough control to use the wall as a springboard to launch himself back at her.  She saw him coming and twisted at the last second, using his momentum against him to push him off balance.  He recovered quicker than she expected and swept her legs out from under her. She used her momentum to turn the fall into a flip, leading to a series of flips and twists taking her away from him, giving her some space to think.

They circled around each other trying to plan their next move.  Suddenly Chimera stopped and looked like she just realized something.  “Oh I forgot.  I’m supposed to be showing my skills…” she started innocently.  Superboy took advantage of her apparent distraction to jump at her again but that was the moment she had been waiting for.  “Voyage” she whispered and created a portal behind her. She stepped out of the way at the last possible second, sending Superboy through the portal at full speed.  The portal ended close to the rock wall on the other side of the room.  Superboy almost slammed into the wall with his full force but she had left him enough room to bounce back off the wall and launch himself back through the portal and back in front of her, throwing a punch toward her sternum that she was just barely able to twist away from, rolling along his arm until she was in the perfect position to elbow him in the back of his head.  He grunted and turned back toward her, circling around her again.

“Full force, Chimera,” Black Canary chastised her.

“Not going to make him bleed on purpose for a game, Ms. Canary.” Chimera responded, still focused on Superboy.  “Besides, we’re not done yet.”  She turned to Superboy, “Right?”  He nodded at her, an amused glint in his eyes.  “I haven’t even showed off all my skills yet.”

“Well, let’s see those skills you keep talking about.” Superboy taunted her.

“If you say so Superboy.” She smirked at him then frowned.  “I don’t appreciate that your actual name is the name I would have called you to taunt you.  You’re making my job harder.”

He frowned at her, the amused look that had been in his eyes dropping.  “So sorry my name is an inconvenience.  You can call me The Weapon like my makers did if you prefer.”

Chimera stood up straight, fidgeting and frowning at him.  “That’s… really?” She looked around to the other heroes.  They all nodded solemnly.

She looked back at him with softer eyes.  “What do you want to be called?” She asked in a kind tone.

“I… Superboy.”  He said stiffly, not exactly sure how to respond to the shift in atmosphere.

Chimera nodded and gave him a warm smile.  “Superboy it is.  No nicknames unless you approve of them.”

“As heartwarming as this is, you are supposed to be sparring.” Black Canary reminded them.

“Right,” Chimera said shook her head to refocus herself. “Sorry.”  She whispered “Mirage,” bringing her flute up to her lips.  As soon as the notes were heard, a dozen replicas of her appeared and began running around the circle.  Superboy tried to scan them but they all looked identical even with his infrared vision.  He stilled to listen for a heartbeat or breathing, but he couldn’t detect it in any of them.  He looked around wildly.  It was a sea of dark brown and bright orange.  He nodded to himself calculating the possibilities.  Most likely she managed to split herself.  So either they are all fully sentient or there is a central figure controlling them.  He’d have to hope for the latter.

His eyes flicked to one of the figures running at him.  The figure jumped into a flying kick.  He dodged out of the way and rolled to his feet, looking around again for the next attack. He didn’t wait long.  Another figure ducked low to sweep his feet.  He jumped over her but felt a sharp pain in his side as one of the replicas body checked him with enough force to knock him into the far wall.  

Superboy shook his head to clear it.  When he took more than a few seconds to recover, the replicas looked at him concerned.  One of them finally moved forward and asked “Are you okay to continue?”  

He stared at the replica for a few moments before nodding.  “We’re not done yet.”  All the replicas smiled at him and moved into new positions, waiting for him to indicate he was ready.  As soon as he nodded two replicas moved to attack him, one went high, one went for his legs.  He lunged for the one going high, jumping over the one going for his legs.  As soon as he reached her, she disappeared.  Not meeting the resistance he had expected, the force of the lunge caused him to lay out flat on the floor.  He grunted and jumped up before any of the replicas could attack again.  

As soon as he was up he looked around with a grin. “Mirage,” he repeated.  They were all an illusion.  He just had to find the real one.  Two attacked him again.  He hit one causing it to disappear but the other one hit him with her flute, knocking him to the side.  He shook his head again and turned back to them and backed away, giving himself space. He just had to find the one. There had to be an indication of which one was the real one.  He couldn’t use his infrared vision or hearing.  Maybe there was something about them.  He stared at them as they circled around each other.  There!  There was one with a different shade of orange, the shade Chimera had before the match. All the replicas had bright orange but the real Chimera had deep orange accents.  

He kept his eyes moving so she wouldn’t know he’d made her.  He moved forward toward one of the replicas moving to punch her.  Chimera attacked from the side again, coming at him before he could touch the replica and make it disappear.  He grinned to himself.  At the last second, he changed his trajectory and sent another haymaker toward her.  He jerked back in pain as the replica he had been moving toward originally made contact, knocking the air out of his lungs. He grunted in anger and confusion as a rope was tied around him, pinning down his arms.  His legs were swept out from under him causing him to land hard. He trashed with all his strength as he felt her tying his legs too.  He kept thrashing against the rope, but no matter how hard he pushed and pulled, the rope showed no indication of weakening.  

After a few moments of him pointlessly struggling, Black Canary walked over and declared Chimera the winner.  She smiled excitedly at Chimera.  “Now we know what we’re working with and we can plan how to incorporate your skills into missions and approaches to your training.”

Chimera nodded in understanding and looked over to the team who were still watching her in various degrees of surprise.  Kaldur nodded in approval.  Wally and Artemis stared at her in shock.  Robin was pointing and laughing at Superboy.  Chimera glowered at him and turned back to Superboy, releasing the rope so he could get up.  

As soon as he was freed, Superboy jumped up and rubbed his arms, glaring at the floor.  Chimera smiled nervously in his direction, but he refused to look at her and had turned his body away from her.  She sighed and looked down too, shifting nervously.  After a few moments, she started gathering up the rope to tie it back around her waist.  She furrowed her brows at the sound of Robin still laughing, which seemed to upset Superboy even more.  She narrowed her eyes at him and whipped the rope out in his direction.  It snapped a few inches away from his face with a crack so loud it reverberated throughout the cave.  Robin jumped away awkwardly and fell backwards, landing on his butt.

Superboy looked from Robin to her.  He let out a small laugh and gave her a smile. Chimera took it as a good sign and smiled back at him.  “That was a lot of fun.  You are really good at picking up on details, otherwise that color trick wouldn’t have worked.” Her voice was soft, like she was addressing a scared child.

He nodded at her and quietly said, “Thanks. It was fun.”

“Does that mean we can do it again sometime?  I need practice sparring and I’m usually afraid I’ll hurt someone when I’m in the suit and when I’m not, it isn’t as effective. I mean, helpful still, but not as effective.”  He stared at her for a few seconds but finally nodded at her.

“That was a pretty good introduction but it’s getting late now.  I think it’s time to call it a night.  Red Tornado, can you take Chimera to the room she will be using so she can recharge?” Black Canary asked.

When Chimera returned a few minutes later, the group smiled at her and gave their goodbyes.  They made plans for everyone to return the next day for more training.  One by one, they all left through the Zeta tubes except for Superboy.  Chimera looked at him confused.  “Are you not leaving too?”

“No.” He stated coldly.

“Why not?  I mean… if you don’t mind me asking.” She stammered out.

“Because I live here.” He grumbled back at her.

“Alone?” She gasped.

“With Red Tornado.” He corrected defiantly.

“But no other… people? In this big, empty, cold place?” She looked out over the cave, the empty, cold, inhospitable place he was going to call home.

“I like being alone.”  He stated in an annoyed voice.

Something that looked like anger flashed across her face transforming into a determined look before she smoothed it out and gave him a cheeky grin.  “That’s a shame.”  

He narrowed his eyes looking at her suspiciously, “Why is that?”

“I’m moving in.”  Her smile grew bigger.

He furrowed his brow and frowned, “What?”

“I’m moving in.  I have school and, uh… stuff during the day, but I’ll be here in the mornings and at night, most weekends.” She nodded at him.  “It will be like a sleepover every night… except we’ll be sleeping in separate rooms.”

He stared at her for a few seconds, unsure how to react. “Whatever,” he grunted walking back toward the residence area.  “Dinner is usually in like 30 minutes.” He called over his shoulder.  She smiled in his direction.  It wasn’t a warm welcome but it was better than nothing.  

“Are you sure about this?  It isn’t required for you to live here.  Most of the members don’t.” Black Canary reassured her.

“That’s why I’m doing it.  I’ve already had one teammate who had to live essentially alone and isolated in a big, empty space.  He hated it.  It messes with your self-worth and your ability to interact with other people, no matter how badly you want to.  It scrapes away at your humanity.  I couldn’t really do anything for his living situation, but I can do something for Superboy.”

“It will make keeping your identity more difficult.” Batman warned her softly.

“I know, but he’s my teammate.  I won’t abandon him.  And I need a friend here too.  I’ll be all alone otherwise, so… it will be mutually beneficial… I hope.”  She added tentatively.

Batman and Black Canary shared an approving look with each other and turned back to her.  “Okay.  Let us or Red Tornado know if you need anything.  We really think you are going to fit in amazingly with this team.”

Chimera smiled at them and shifted slightly to look out over the rest of the cave.  “I think so, too.”

Chapter 2

#connette #connerette #konmari #maribat #Marinette x Conner #marikon #capturing a dream #conner x marinette

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (1)

        jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: strong language, accidents caused by drunk driving (DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, DRIVE WHILE DRUNK OR AGREE TO RIDE WITH SOMEONE WHO’S DRUNK!!!)

words: 4.4k

                       chapter one.

The music coming from the stage was deafening and headache-inducing but the ambience of the club itself was absolutely energizing, and you kept switching between regretting the decision to come here, and thanking your roommate for convincing you to. Glancing at the girl next to you – she’d already finished her fourth drink and you weren’t sure if she realized it because she seemed to be hypnotized by what she was seeing on stage – you smiled even despite knowing that you’d be stuck helping her battle a killer hangover tomorrow.

“It’s crazy,” Inna said suddenly as if having read your thoughts, “isn’t it? I mean, they’re driving the whole club insane, look at them!”

You did look but not at the band on stage. The second floor of the club provided you with a great view of the first floor and the sight of your heavily intoxicated and barely legal peers dancing so close to the stage, they were nearly on top of it already, distracted you – it always amused you to see the duality of the top students in your class.

“Yeah,” you said. “But Parental Advisory brings the insanity with them wherever they go. I saw some people who brought actual posters to the club.”

“Shit, I should have thought of that,” Inna said, hitting herself on the temple with her palm in disappointment.

“I don’t even get it,” you started and your roommate was already groaning. Even drunk, she could recognize the tone of your voice when you were about to complain. “I mean—”

“Come on, you said you wouldn’t complain!” she whined.

“I said no such thing,” you disagreed, “and I’m not complaining, anyway. I’m just saying how they’re nothing special. Everyone’s only listening to them because they’re the only band on campus.”

Inna looked like she wanted to argue – like she’s done a million times before – but then she decided to let it slide and finish her drink instead.

“You’re only saying that,” she pointed out then, the straw of her cocktail still in her mouth, “because you have a weird prejudice against their lead vocalist.”

You raised your eyebrows with a skeptical scoff. “Jungkook? I don’t have anything against him. I just think he’s an overrated, arrogant asshole.”

Your roommate glanced at the stage again, seemingly losing herself in the performance for a minute, before she agreed to give you the benefit of the doubt, even though she always suspected that there was something more there – she knew you and Jungkook had history and she felt like your open dislike for him was concealing your deeper feelings.

“He may be arrogant,” she said just as Jungkook tossed the towel he’d used to wipe the sweat on his forehead off into the crowd, “but that’s just because he’s aware of how good he is.”

“Or maybe it’s because his dad owns a successful business,” you said, “and he’s just an entitled heir.”

“Sure, that could be a factor. But being an heir wouldn’t make those girls so devoted to him,” she was only half-joking as both of your gazes immediately fell to the side of the stage where a group of girls was already waiting for the performance to be over.

“There’s always a crowd of girls wherever he goes,” Inna continued, her eyes glistening. She chuckled then, “and, let me tell you, word is, they’re never disappointed.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even despite having heard the rumors on campus as well. It wasn’t that the members of Parental Advisory slept around – or maybe they did but they weren’t ones to brag about it – but they knew what to give their audience to make them satisfied. That included their shows on stage and their parties back at their shared house – a notorious place already, known all over campus as the only spot where a party could stay alive and burning all throughout the weekend.

“Do you think his groupies leave reviews?” you slipped into sarcasm without meaning to. “Do they rate his performance on and off the stage out of five stars?”

“No, are you seriou—okay, that’s enough for me. I’m going to get another drink,” Inna stood up, choosing to focus her energy into having a good time rather than trying to get you to see the band from her point of view.

You debated stopping her -- she’s already had more drinks than she could handle -- but the determination in her eyes as she turned around and crossed the room towards the bar stopped you. You didn’t dare to interrupt a woman on a mission.

Finishing your own drink as you waited for her to come back, you took this time to focus on the atmosphere of the club. Despite the fact that Parental Advisory was, obviously, not one of your favorite bands, they did play good music – even if you could already feel a headache creeping in – and, there was no denying, they definitely knew how to put on a show.

You watched Jungkook lean into the crowd with his mic stand, his white shirt almost see-through from his sweat – and everyone who was close enough to touch him went wild. It was almost as if he ignited wildfires inside of them with his eyes – just one look and everyone around him dropped all of their inhibitions and started to live.

You knew of the effect he had on people even before he joined the band as you found yourself reminiscing about all the times you’d listened to Jungkook play a very strained version of Für Elise on his grandfather’s old piano. He’d always look at you after he finished playing and the glitter in his eyes made you feel as though you’ve just listened to the most harmonious melody in the world, even if his family’s cat wouldn’t stop hissing, begging him to stop and get away from the piano.

Somehow, listening to Parental Advisory – even though they favored alternative music and stayed clear of Beethoven – always brought back the memories of Jungkook at the piano. It softened you until you started to understand why every person at the club was completely at his will, responding to his every gesture, and, for a little while, you could relate to them as you followed Jungkook on stage with your eyes.

You didn’t like these memories – they lowered your walls against your will – so you were glad to get distracted by Inna as she plopped back down on her seat next to you, a new drink in her hand.

“Man,” she said and then took a sip, “if I’d brought a poster too, maybe we could have gone to the after party.”

Of course she wanted to go to their after party. When it came to Parental Advisory, after parties were basically a part of their performance, so she couldn’t just leave in the middle of it.

“You can still go even if you don’t have a poster,” you said, already coming up with a plan of how you were going to get home after the final song ended. “It’s not like their parties are exclusive.”

“Well, they sort of are,” Inna said. “It’s different when you just show up to the party. The people who matter arrive with the band. And they usually invite some of the girls with the posters backstage after the show.”

“The people who matter,” you repeated with disgust, “I hope you realize how pretentious that sounds. You’re not a loser if you don’t roll up to the party with the band.”

“It’s—okay, maybe it’s a little pretentious,” she said. “But I’d still like to be a part of that crew. Or, at least, arrive with someone.”

She wasn’t trying to conceal her wistful tone and even if she was, she probably wouldn’t have been very successful, because her wish to get a glimpse into the inside world of Parental Advisory was obvious in her eyes as she watched the band play out the final chords on stage.

Despite dragging you to gigs like this nearly every weekend, Inna was, all things considered, a good friend and you felt like you owed her this one thing because tonight really wasn’t as torturous for you as you may have made it seem.

You still couldn’t help but sigh before speaking to let her know how difficult saying this was for you (all so she wouldn’t expect you to do this every time you went out, really), “I suppose we can go to the party together. I’ll make sure you don’t feel like a loser.”

Her whole face lit up as she turned to you. “Do you mean it? Because I’m too drunk to recognize it if you’re mocking me right now.”

“I mean it,” you said sincerely. “If you don’t mind arriving with me instead of the band.”

“Oh, who cares, the band will be inside,” she dismissed her previous stance immediately, “thank you! I’ll make sure to repay you by getting you a clean cup of beer so as not to repeat my last mistake.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, frowning as you tried to resist the memory of Inna’s last mistake that involved accidentally making a cocktail of beer and tequila and then leaving you to fend for your life as you battled a hangover that seemed to last the whole week.

“Let’s not go there,” you said, “I’ll get my own drinks this time. Or, actually, maybe I’ll stay sober. One of us has to.”

Inna chuckled. “Good! I think it’s a little too late for me to do that.”

As it turned out, your roommate wasn’t the only one who got drunk way before the after-party started, because, by the time you returned to campus and reached the large building Parental Advisory lived in – courtesy of their rich parents, of course – everyone there was already wasted and in the middle of a very intense game of how-many-stupid-things-can-I-do-in-one-night. The guy who dived head-first from the roof into the jacuzzi in the backyard – no clothes on him whatsoever – must have been winning.

“Did you see that?” Inna laughed, her eyes lighting up like a child’s in the presence of candy. “There’s a reason why people won’t shut up about the parties here.”

“Hmm,” you looked around, more concerned about the girl from your Philosophy class who was attempting to do a keg stand all by herself. “But how do they not have accidents here? Everyone’s drunk out of their—”

“Oh my God, there they are!” your roommate squealed as she stopped walking suddenly and you automatically bumped into her. She turned to you, completely unbothered by the fact that you’d made her spill half of her drink. “Do you want to say hi to Jungkook?”

You lifted your gaze until you saw the four members of the band make their way towards the kitchen – which was, conveniently, directly behind you –  and then scoffed.

“Not at all,” you said as the group approached. “But even if I did, watch how he successfully ignores me.”

But your expectations weren’t met as Jungkook – still mid-laugh about something someone had said to him – stopped right in front of you.

“Oh!” he looked surprised to see you, but not nearly as surprised as you felt when he stopped to talk to you. Inna had stopped breathing as she watched you from the side and, frankly, you thought your lungs had given out, too. “Nice to see you here. Having fun?”

You hadn’t talked to Jungkook in seven years at least – a lucky number, one would think – and now that he was suddenly addressing you again, you weren’t sure if you’d ever learned how to talk at all.

“Sure,” you ended up saying because what else was there to say? “I like what you’ve done with the place. Before the party started, I mean.”

He laughed, giving the space that was once his living room – but was now a dance-floor with a couch that was nearly tipped over by some couple that was making out on it – a good look and then turning to you again.

“Thanks,” he said. “My mom took care of it.”

“Of course,” you let it slip. Acting like you didn’t know him was obviously not going to work because you did know him, and you knew very well that his mother was an interior designer because she was the one that designed your parents’ house, too. “Hope she’s doing well.”

“She is,” Jungkook said but it sounded a lot like the automatic response you’d given him before – “sure, I’m having fun at this party” – and he realized that as he cleared his throat, “she, uh, she’s still in touch with your mom, I guess, yeah?”

“Well, they’re best friends,” you said. Once again, your mouth opened before you could control yourself and every single word came out sounding overly sarcastic and borderline snotty. It was like you were trying to live up to his arrogant nature while he was pretending to be humble. “Anyway, it’s, uh, good to see you, I guess. I’m going to—”

Your eyes were already on Inna – who was no longer as amused by Jungkook as she had been moments ago, and was currently ogling Taehyung, another Parental Advisory member, who was talking to someone a few feet away from her – and you were already in the middle of taking a step past Jungkook and towards her, when he suddenly grabbed your forearm, stopping you.

The act – or, his touch, to be precise – shocked you so much that you turned to him with parted lips but weren’t able to express your surprise out loud.

“Wait, you guess?” Jungkook asked, sounding oddly amused. “So, it’s not really good to see me, then?”

For a moment, you didn’t understand what he was saying at all – because you weren’t thinking what you were saying when you spoke to him – but then you realized and pulled your arm out of his grasp.

“I’ve made small-talk with at least a dozen people I didn’t know before tonight,” you said, “it’s been good to see them all.”

“You know me, though,” he insisted, grinning now. It was like he listened to the sarcasm in your voice but deliberately chose not to hear it.

Still not really sure why he was talking to you now of all times – you’ve been going to the same classes for three years now and there have definitely been opportunities for you two to interact but you both ignored all of them – you figured he was just bored. Doing the same thing every Friday night – performing and then going home to get drunk with strangers who basically worshiped him – was bound to get tiring after a while and maybe he was looking for new ways to entertain himself.

“I knew you,” you clarified, not wanting to become his newest form of entertainment.

He shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the seven years you’d spent not talking. “You still do.”

You scoffed and were clearly about to disagree, so he jumped in before you could.

“We can always catch up,” he said with a nod towards the kitchen. “Let’s get a drink.”

“Why?” you asked. You couldn’t help it, this was too weird.

“Why not?” he countered, ever the opportunist. You didn’t reply. “What’s with the frown? Do you still plan everything out in advance? Should I make an appointment with your secretary before you can agree to get drinks with me?”

You felt the frown he’d mention deepen as your skeptical expression turned into a full-on scowl. You didn’t appreciate being mocked.

“You should,” you said. “But, fair warning, I’m booked until graduation.”

You were already turning to walk away – and noticed that Inna had disappeared – but, once again, Jungkook pulled you right back in by speaking louder.

“Aw, that’s disappointing,” he said in a way that made him sound more excited than disappointed. “Won’t you make an exception for an old friend? You used to.”

You felt goosebumps rise on your skin as he said this but didn’t even attempt to defend yourself. He had always been the exception to everything in your life – no matter how busy with homework you were, no matter how many school events the student council needed your approval for, you always made time for him – and, somehow, that came back to bite you in the ass.

“I haven’t talked to you since we finished middle school,” you said, purposefully not sticking to the day in discussion for too long or Jungkook would have undoubtedly used that against you, too, “lots of things changed. I only make exceptions for the people who matter now.”

Jungkook – who was absolutely going to discuss your middle school graduation in great detail if you’d stopped talking after you mentioned it – grabbed his chest and threw his head back dramatically.

“Ouch,” he fake-moaned, “that’s really cold, you know. I’m just trying to reconnect with you.”

“I think you have more important matters at hand,” you said, finally finding an excuse to walk away – it came in the form of three girls who had appeared by his side, evidently too tired to be waiting for his attention from across the room.

He hadn’t even noticed them at first – which was surprising, considering how strong the scent of their combined perfumes was – but, as soon as he turned his head to finally look at them, you walked away.

Instead of being annoyed by your abrupt exit, however, Jungkook seemed to grow even more amused. This was the first time you’d left him hanging – things really have changed.

“I’ll call you!” he called out across the living room but you didn’t turn back so he assumed you didn’t hear. Sighing, he turned back to the girls by his side. Taking the one closest to him by her hand, he pointed towards the kitchen. “Ladies.”

When you finally turned around to look at him – because you did hear what he’d said – he was already guiding the group of girls into the kitchen and filling their cups. An unexpected sense of disappointment settled in your chest but you tried to shake it off.

He was the one who decided it’d be better if the two of you stopped being friends at the beginning of ninth grade. It couldn’t have taken him seven years to change his mind.

A loud commotion outside distracted you from the conversation you’d been having with someone who, apparently, lived in a dorm room across the hall from yours – funny how you haven’t even seen each other before tonight – and you both turned to look out of the window.

“What the fuck was that?” you heard Yoongi, another one of Jungkook’s bandmates, ask himself, as he hurried past you. “Is that fucker fighting again?”

Your heart rate picked up as you realized that the “fucker” in question must have been Jungkook. Thinking rationally, you knew you had no reason to go out there and check what was going on, and yet the possibility that Jungkook was in a fight – and not for the first time, apparently! – was enough to send you right after Yoongi, until the two of you stopped in the backyard, both looking around to see what was causing the loud noise.

“Do you see him?” Yoongi asked you, too drunk – and too busy looking after his lead vocalist – to question why you were outside with him when everyone else settled on watching the scene play out through the windows of the house.

“Why do you think it’s him—oh. Yeah, I see him,” you pointed to a black car parked at the far end of the backyard – clearly, the car belonged to one of the members – and Yoongi saw Jungkook as soon as he turned to look.

Frankly, it was hard not to see Jungkook because he was being unceremoniously thrown on the hood of the vehicle by a guy that was about twice his size. And yet Jungkook seemed so much more aggressive than him as he pushed himself off the car and attacked.

“Fuck,” Yoongi muttered briefly before breaking into a sprint. “Jungkook! Shit, get the fuck away from him. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Profanities continued to spill from his mouth as he attempted to break the fight up. You found yourself running to catch up with them – which was a blessing for Yoongi because he struggled to hold the other guy back when Jungkook kept throwing himself at him – but you didn’t dare to intervene just yet.

“What are you doing?” you demanded – no one paid any attention – and then cleared your throat before trying again, louder, “Jungkook!”

Still, the boy was far too focused on his opponent – who was being cradled by a huffing Yoongi – so you had no choice but to step in – literally – and place both hands on Jungkook’s chest, pushing him back into the car roughly.

Taken off guard, he stumbled and fell on his back, landing on the hood of the car yet again and nearly taking you with him as he had angrily grabbed your wrists before he fell. He was seemingly ready to push them away before he looked into your eyes.

“Fuck,” he exhaled as soon as your gazes met, his grip on your wrists softening but not disappearing as he held your hands against his chest that moved up and down, his heart beating rapidly under your fingertips.

After waiting until his heart rate slowed down just slightly, you pulled your hands out of his and stepped away so he could stand up from the car.

“What the hell happened?” you asked. You could feel yourself start to shake but it wasn’t due to the chilly evening air.

“He’s being a dumbass again, that’s what happened,” Yoongi snarled, pushing the guy he’d been holding back off of himself and glaring at him and Jungkook both. “You need to get your shit together, man. I’m sick of looking after your sorry ass.”

The last part was directed at Jungkook who groaned, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down. The guy he’d been fighting spat on the ground, gave him one last frustrated look, and returned to the party. Jungkook looked like he was going to yell something at him but Yoongi cursed loudly and gave up right then and there, turning around towards the house.

“I don’t need you to look after me!” Jungkook yelled after Yoongi, who pretended not to hear him as he walked away, and then – much to your surprise – the younger boy threw the driver’s door of the car open.

Confused and seriously concerned, you watched Yoongi leave before turning back to look at Jungkook. “W-what are you—”

“Just go!” he snapped at you as he got into the car.

“You can’t drive!” you protested in panic, grabbing the door before he could close it.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Jungkook snarled, looking at you with a fire so prominent in his eyes that you ended up letting go of the car door out of sheer surprise. You’d never seen him like this before.

And then, as you turned away from him for just one second, searching for Yoongi – surely, he’d come back to stop him – Jungkook started the engine of the car.

You swore under your breath, knocking on the window of the car but it brought no response from him. “Jungkook! You can’t—”

He said something and you automatically stopped pounding on his window to listen. The engine of the car was drowning out his words and you expected him to lower his window and repeat what he’d said, but Jungkook used the moment when you took an unconscious step away from the car, and pushed the pedal.

You swore loudly as you watched him drive away, running your hands through your hair in desperation. For the next minute, you watched the car maneuver around the front yard clumsily and then drive down the main street. When he disappeared from your field of vision, you pulled your phone out from your back pocket but you didn’t know who to call.

Looking around again, you realized that Yoongi had gone back inside, and suddenly, you weren’t sure what would be faster, calling the police so they’d be on the look-out for a drunk lunatic behind the wheel or finding the rest of the Parental Advisory members so they could hopefully find a better solution.

But before you could reach a decision – it all seemed to happen in a split-second, honestly – you heard a loud crash. With your heart immediately falling down to your stomach and then plummeting all the way down to your feet, you ran across the yard and towards the main street, hoping – praying – that the sound was unrelated to Jungkook.

And yet, as soon as you stopped on the sidewalk and looked down the road, you saw the same black car right there, next to where the road split into an intersection. It had been forced to stop by a lonely lamp post, the view of which was partially blocked by a large tree trunk, but even so, you could tell that Jungkook had slammed the car right into it.

Struggling to breathe, you listened to people pour out of the house. They seemed to be much more alarmed than they’d been when they first heard someone fighting.

You didn’t think you could move.

“Call an ambulance,” you whispered, your eyes glued to the smoke that was coming out in dark, angry swirls from underneath the totaled hood of Jungkook’s car. “Someone needs to call the ambulance!”

Your own phone was lit up with the number of the police that you’d dialed mere seconds ago but you couldn’t find the control in your fingers to press call. Then, you heard cursing and realized that the people from the party weren’t going to help. They didn’t even consider helping.

They were running away. Escaping from the accident which seemed to them like the perfect reason for expulsion from university. They no longer wanted to be a part of the special club that got to arrive to Parental Advisory parties with the members of the band themselves. 

Inhaling deeply, you realized that no one else was going to do this for you, so you finally managed to pull yourself back together again.

You pressed your phone to your ear and with each beep of the dial tone, you cursed the Parental Advisory parties more and more – they were an accident waiting to happen. An accident so awful, it could erase seven years of silence as you hoped Jungkook would be able to talk to you again. 

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#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #fanfiction #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #fluff #angst #smut #god i haven't tagged my works in so long #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #GOD BLESS 190811 jungkook #this entire fic is essentially based on that performance alone lmao

[suspiciouslybluemilktea]

The Passed Out Princess Chapters 1-2

Pairing: My CMC (Uyu, Dan Byeol) x Suit Saeran

Description: On days 7-9 of Ray’s route, the player is denied food as “Saeran” makes his presence first known. But, what if MC fell very ill under this method of torture due to a medical condition? Sadly, my custom MC, Uyu (full name Dan Byeol), would deal with exactly this dilemma.

Content warning: Descriptions of throwing up, passing out, and meal skipping. Every food related issue mentioned is strictly medical, and based on my own condition.

This was written under the assumption that you have played Ray’s route in full, so route spoilers ahead! This takes place during the very beginning of day 8, and according to the timings and contents of the chat rooms, it would take place before Saeran cuts contact with the RFA and before he installs a camera to monitor MC in her room. It is timed to match closely around to when I’d get sick myself.

My CMC’s condition deals chronic with low blood sugar, meaning she has to eat to keep it up or suffer the consequences as seen here. It is not diabetes related, it is something she is born with as am I and is linked to more complicated matters I left out to keep it simple. Some symptoms include: growing light headed, severe dizziness, nausea, vomiting, and passing out. See all chapters

I wrote this with flexibility for whichever HC for Saeran you follow (DID or BPD), because whether or not he has one of the following, Rika has drilled it in his head that Ray and Saeran are separate entities, and Saeran views it this way. Consider it written the way Cheritz writes him, with nothing exactly too set.

To make things easier for myself, I’m uploading multiple chapters on each post, chapters only separated by lines. Here is 1 and 2

Ping!

The sound of Dan’s phone alerted her to rise and greet the day with a new chat room open.

As the morning sun took its place in the clear blue sky, the little woman sat up in her big bed, bangs sticking out in all directions as her head thumped with a dull pain. Hunger induced pain, she noted, as her stomach felt empty.

Despite the beauty of this early morning, the light pouring through the windows creating a rosy glow which engulfed the princess room; there was no beautiful light shining on the brunette’s new situation, seeming so dreary and dim.

Uyu still found herself wrapped up in this place, whisked away to a castle tucked deep within mountains known as Magenta. Every corner of the building was constructed brick by brick with a beautifully ornate architectural design, but the bright exterior was only a façade. If she was left caged like this for long, what would become of her? Driven to insanity, perhaps she’d attack and claw at the walls which confined her, unable to turn her anger to Saeran, the real victim in all this. The “savior” made it clear she was the true ruling figure who lurked about as the moon rose, the mastermind behind this place’s pain and suffering.

The night before, after being so kindly introduced to “Saeran”, this golden-haired angel confirmed herself to be quite the wicked witch of the west indeed, and it took everything out of Uyu to not call her harsher names to her face.

Mint Eye was hell redecorated to wear the guise of heaven, but pretty gardens and saccharine words could not fool her. Because Dan wore no wool over her eyes, the savior had no intention of allowing her to live long enough to become the new narrator of “The Yellow Wallpaper”; and she had no shoes to click together at the heel to wish her way home with who she came here for originally.

Just as Ray’s suit did, he changed, flipping like a light switch.

Saeran, the name V previously called him by, did succeed in giving her a good fright, his attitude being the least thing she expected to see after Ray’s earlier sobs over the phone.

Uyu was mainly focused on one solid question after their encounter, though. Just what did that “cleansing” entail in full detail? What did this place do to him, to make him weep and beg for a warm hand to hold one minute, only to push back and try to scare her the next?

It was as if he was caught, dragged by the feet somewhere inescapable, a pit damp and dark down under; rising from a shivering grave cold to the touch.

If it weren’t for her position, she wouldn’t have allowed it.

Now more than ever, this room built on the foundation of fantasy and delight felt like a birdcage which barely allowed her to wiggle an arm through its bars. She relied on her song, her sweet words which Ray claimed to tickle at his heart and hold a power over him like no other before. Her goal, of course, was to use this for good, influencing him to learn to appreciate and care for himself like he should. But now, she felt unable to do even that much, not that she’d give up trying.

Saeran wished to dismiss her and her actions entirely, evident from his need to spew the fact that he bestowed upon her the label of being less than a person, his toy. His play thing.

That sick twisting she felt pooling in her gut upon first hearing the term “cleansing” seemed all too in place.

Ray, as sweet as her prince charming was, had a knack for leaving out important details about this museum of wonder. To her best guess, it was done to avoid panic as none of what went on here could be viewed as normal, or ok. He only briefly mentioned things like the “elixir”, such as on the night V arrived to spiral this place’s plans into chaos.

That was the night she could officially mark a great importance in staying, despite the vast network of lies.

Uyu wasn’t entirely stupid, she had an idea of what the elixir might be a while back, but it was still hard to process regardless.

Saeran threatened to give her one of these cleansing ceremonies...and said he could “draw out the maximum pain in the process”, telling her whatever happened to him hurt. A “no duh” moment indeed, but it was confirmation.

Ray suffered, for no reason other than he was too enwrapped in his blooming feelings for her, something that shouldn’t be taken as a negative but was. It displeased the savior that his chains which bound him by the ankles began to jingle with his new yearning to take flight.

She couldn’t allow herself to lie down and give the savior the satisfaction of breaking her, not when she still had so much to do, and not when Saeran and the RFA were at risk.

As the cool night-time air blew around them, feeling its whisper through her long locks of hair, Ray opened up about Mint Eye’s beliefs as a sanctuary for the “weak”, who had no choice but to lock themselves away to avoid further hurt.

He clearly viewed himself as someone in this category. Weak. But Saeran? Saeran shoved and shouted, which felt like a complete opposite to Ray’s whimpers and pleading. He even went as far as to accuse her of manipulation, of treating Ray like a puppet as she watched him dance to the harp she plucked.

Looking past his outburst and itch to watch her squirm, there stood a man seething with hate sparked entirely by twisted lies and his own fears. He gave himself away rather quickly as he attempted to say she messed with “hisna vefeelings” for some “big plan”.

She had to trust that there were boundaries he wouldn’t cross, being so close to her and forceful...and that was where her panic truly lied. But for now, she’d bank on the idea that he just wanted to scare her, staying alert in case he went too far. There were vases around from Ray’s various gifts that could be used as a weapon during the extreme. Unlike her, Saeran had no fighting skills either, but currently she was a bit too ill for those measures.

For once, a room so pink made her feel neither cozy nor at home.

Uyu’s fuzzy morning vision was then attracted to a black blob hanging on the doorknob. With a little eye rub, she made it out to be a dress, and a rather pretty one at that. In the way it was cut, it would expose much of her shoulders and upper back, the top front of it connected to a bow tied around the back of a neck piece with strings of fabric; like an attached choker. She could only assume it was a “gracious gift” bestowed upon her from the man she saw take Ray’s place. Apparently, he has a thing for black.

Her little device chimed again, and then once more, third time giving her the last push of annoyance she needed to reach over and respond to the opened chatroom.

She sighed with relief seeing Seven was the person active online, as she could now pester him with questions about what he was seeing on his end of the fight. They typed away, Uyu expressing concern for both of the hackers as they discussed Ra-Saeran’s new careless and aggressive tactics to snag him a victory.

As time passed, Jumin joined to ask questions as well, mainly circling around the governmental commendation from the Prime Minister to recognize the RFA for their charity work. Uyu stuck to her gut and pushed against the idea of it being a complete positive.

While both V and Seven acted oddly around the idea of the commendation, the RFA was also just a small organization which had only held two parties previous to Rika’s “passing”. The award was too fishy to trust in her judgment, especially now that she understood things going on around here weren’t at all what they had seemed to be.

Mint Eye wasn’t the only organization she was caught in that held its secrets.

After a bit of talking, Jumin agreed that the prime minister’s reasoning had to be figured out before any final decisions could be made. Everyone logged off, Seven returning to the battlefield and Jumin to stitching in his car.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The need for food grew worse.

Uyu showered and changed into the outfit provided…not having much of a choice to do otherwise unless she wanted to rewear old clothing. She felt down and sluggish as she dressed the way her toy maker willed, the dark frills of her attire tickling against her thighs as her step dragged. She was still ok enough to make herself look presentable, even if done at such a pace.

Her hair changed to a solid dark brown color as it took in the shower water, the gold ombré reaching her tips returning upon giving it a blow dry, making sure Saeran would have less to scoff next he saw her. She wasn’t aiming to avoid his crude comments, but instead trying to make herself feel good. Call her smelly all he wants, she knows she isn’t.

Saeran was aiming to play into her insecurities, maybe full well knowing she had so very many of them as he tried to wind her up. The least she could do was confirm his lies to be lies in the ways she knew how, if not for him then for her. She couldn’t allow him to figure out what made her gears stop, whether his words were true or not. This was no game of knife throwing, and she was no target.

11:00 AM crept up on her as she moped around quietly in her dollhouse, waiting for Saeran to come and try to take a good yanking on her marionette strings.

Dan sat upon the bed as the empty-headed feeling and banging in her temple raged, shifting to lay down fully and make herself more comfortable. If she stood for too long, she’d sway and wobble as her vision turned to black, purple and green swirls, momentarily clouding both her sight and mind.

Despite her numerous texts and occasional calls, she still heard nothing from Saeran. Not a peep.

She was growing restless as well as worried for him, and what would become of her as she continued to go unfed.

Her phone buzzed, shifting her attention over to it groggily, eyes half lidded as she wanted to sleep off this sinking feeling. Soon, she’d start to go down like the Titanic as lunch time acted as her iceberg.

Uyu hoped it was her self-proclaimed master, only to let out a grumble seeing that it wasn’t. Instead, it was Zen who had logged on.

She chatted with him, trying her best not to voice her ever-growing discomfort from skipping last night’s dinner as well as that morning’s breakfast, lunch time now creeping just around the corner.

After a quick talk, she’d call Saeran again...as uncomfortable as that conversation would be, it was her only viable option to kill the onslaught of nausea.

As they talked for a while, Yoosung joined the conversation as well….with talk of food; stew he was in the middle of making to be precise. She felt her stomach churn and rumble as the need for rest fell over her like a weighted blanket, being the only escape from the inevitable vomit now building up inside.

She logged off within another couple of seconds as the hot sweat began.

Dan swallowed thickly as her stomach went haywire, guts twisting, coaxing her to run to the toilet and empty out the water she could at least keep herself going on from the bathroom tap.

Leaving her phone on the bed, she rose to her feet best she could, stumbling till she reached the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. There, she fell to her knees, pulling her long hair back and away from her damp face, lifting up the toilet seat before her.

Within a mere moment, she felt the contents claw at the inside of her throat with a burning sensation, attempting to break free. She shuddered as her body suddenly fell in temperature, before allowing whatever her tummy could offer up to slip past her lips, color in her face all too faded away, displaying her illness. Gagging and choking noises echoed throughout the small room as the rather clearish liquid flowed from her mouth, tears from the discomfort blurring her vision as she blinked them away.

She stayed like that by the toilet for a while, throwing up a couple more times before making certain that event was over for the time being. Uyu considered herself extremely lucky that none was able to touch her or end up in her hair, but not nice to say vomiting wasn’t new to her. She knew the tricks.

Oddly, when something like this would happen, it gave her a tiny amount of strength back. It was strangely relieving, although emptying her stomach further. Her tummy was able to untense a tad.

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes before giving it all a flush down.

A fast teeth brush followed before she stumbled over to bed where she had left her phone. She fiddled with the RFA app until she could reach Saeran’s contact profile. Trying not to let the dread of being ignored again wash over her, she dialed up his number, both nervous and praying this time for a response.

After that last fit was over, her condition would move her into another stage, passing out being the only thing to come next without the blood sugar spike she needed.

The ringing went on for what felt like an eternity as she groaned and pressed her face into the pillow.

“Pick up...pick up damn it please pick up…”.

Uyu wished that she had made a bigger fuss over this earlier rather than attempting to swallow it and wait it out. Being distracted by “the savior” and Saeran’s screaming was something she shouldn’t have allowed herself to do in the midst of endangering her own health. What was she thinking? She knew it would reach this point, it always does if left unchecked. She internally cursed herself for not speaking up more assertively.

After another moment, his angry voice finally came through the speaker and she sighed softly with relief. The last she had heard from him was at four in the morning.

“Feeling this lonely and desperate already, hmm? Tch...what makes you think you have the right to contact me over and over again when I’m doing important work unlike you?”

She huffed on the other end, which he paid no mind.

“All you do is fiddle around like a good for nothing. You didn’t seem so happy to chat with me last time we spoke, but now you’re all eager and ready? You’re just itching for another visit aren’t you? Impatient little princess~.”

He let out an airy chuckle, finding her repeated acts of calling him rather amusing.

“Don’t worry. I have play time all planned out for you soon, you pest. I’ll bother you ten times more than you ever bothered me-”

She cut off his angry rambling, mumbling quietly as she spoke.

“Saeran...can you please come here? I’m not well right now and I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself functioning...I already threw up-”

“Speak up, you complainer! Seriously? You want to see me so badly that you’d put on an elaborate show? Princess...you can’t win any sort of sympathy from me by acting like a brat. Ugg, I’m going to hang up now. I’ll be imagining the million ways I can punish you for this later, stupid toy. I’m busy! Too busy for a bug like you to understand! You waste my time-”

“Wait please...please come here...it’s harder for me to explain over the phone. I...mentioned this problem earlier..please…”

And she had, briefly attempting to bring it up as he invaded a chat room between her and Jaehee.

“Begging now?”

He took on a sad tone of childish mockery as he continued.

“Please please please...please come see me... AHAHA! You airhead. I know what your medical records look like, and therefore I know you’re spinning a lie. You’re not to be trusted just as my savior says. There’s nothing there pertaining to some sort of eating issue other than the fact that your weak little body can’t handle milk…‘Uyu’~.”

He teased at her chosen nickname, and while the irony was why it was picked, this was less than fun.

“Now quit whining over an empty stomach when it hasn’t even been a full day! It’s no fun to see you give up so fast!”

Dan tried her best not to slur her speech, the task assigned to speak up being too hard of one to follow.

“Fine...fine don’t believe me. But…..it doesn’t hurt to come anyways. Since you want to see me suffer….or whatever….”

“Or whatever??? Toy, if I come see you right now...you won’t like what you’re going to get. I haven’t an ounce of pity in me to give you if that’s what you’re searching for. I'm not the type to let you rest in my lap as I stroke your hair and tell you it will be alright, and I won’t give in and feed you. Instead, I’ll make sure you never wish to call me again.”

“...ok…”

“Ok? Ok?? Haha! ...ok then. Let’s see how pathetic you’ve become as you beg and plead to me in person, little actor. Playtime is happening earlier today than I had planned. Congratulations! I’m extra pissed.”

Call ended.

She let out a puff of air, dropping her phone down next to her before closing her eyes, not bothering to stand in preparation for his arrival.

Next chapters All chapters

#suit saeran #ray mystic messenger #saeran x mc #Uyu #Dan Byeol #mystic messenger cmc

[jawritter]

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Chapter 7

Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo​​​​​​

Square Field: decorating

Word Count: 1564

Warnings: Fluff, don’t want to give to much away after that.

A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol Chapter 8 will post tomorrow! I knew chapter will post every day until Christmas! I know I’m insane lol. This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!

**SERIES MASTERLIST**   **MASTERLIST**   **BECOME A PATREON**

You don’t remember the last time you slept that well. For some reason, you were beyond exhausted by the time you went to bed last night, probably the alcohol, but still, you appreciated the decent night's sleep nonetheless. 

Normally your sleep, much like most hunters, was plagued with nightmares. Since Dean and yourself had been sharing a bed in the Cabin you, as well as Dean, seemed to be nightmare-free. Even if he did sleep as far away from you as the bed would allow, arms folded like a corpse. 

Rolling over with a sigh you take in the empty bed next to you. It was cold, Dean had been up for some time. The darker than usual sky outside told you that you were probably in for another day indoors, so why was he out of bed already? 

You brush off the feeling of rejection that tried to slip its way into your subconscious. If Dean had a problem with you, then why the hell would he have gone so far and done all this for you? It didn’t make sense for someone who didn’t like someone to want to spend this much time with them, doing all the nice things Dean had done for you over the last few days. 

“Calm the fuck down Y/N, and stop overthinking,” you scold yourself, kicking off the covers and making your way into the living area of the cabin in search of Dean. 

As soon as you descend the little set of stairs you find him easily, sitting with his coffee cup in his hands, and eyes staring at the fire he had going in the fireplace, the tree standing in the corner, put together and fluffed in the corner of the room, waiting on you to decorate later today. 

You stood there watching him for a moment, with his sleep tossed hair and sweatpant clad legs spread out comfortably as his eyes watched the hungry flames dance over the logs, consuming them and turning them into ash. 

You reach for your phone in your pocket, and quickly snap a picture of him. Even with the tired, whether-worn look on his face, he was still just as breathtakingly handsome as he was when he was in his late 20’s. Maybe even more so now. That boy you met long ago had been replaced with the man you now loved today. It was done through fire, and torment, the broken pieces that were once discarded, now at the hands of the potter inlaid with gold and turned into a beautiful piece of kintsugi pottery. Unique in his own right, and heartbreakingly beautiful; made so by his own brokenness.   

As you descend the last step his eyes drifted from the fireplace to you, and a warm smile spread across his face, masking the tired expression from before. 

“What are you doing up so early,” he asks as you drift your way to the coffee pot, pouring yourself a generous amount before taking your place next to him on the couch.  

You shrug, knowing his eyes were still watching you closely as you crossed your legs and took a sip of the dark, steaming liquid, savoring its bitter taste on your tongue. “I woke up, and you were already up, so why not get up too.”

Dean hummed in response, offering you the blanket that was on the back of the couch. 

“Got her all setup,” he said, nodding in the direction of the tree. “All we got to do is decorate. It’s gonna be another snow day, so I figured we’d spend today making this place look a little more festive. I know it’s a piss poor day 7, but tomorrow we can get back into more exciting stuff once the snowstorm clears.”

Sitting your coffee down on the little table in front of the two of you, you take his hand in yours, determined to get through to him. 

“Dean, not every day has to be some grand plan all day! I’m perfectly happy decorating the tree and just spending the day with you. When’s the last time we actually decorated for Christmas? Don’t feel like you have to keep me busy. You’ve done so much for me already.”

Dean’s eyes drifted across your face, searching, he was always so hard on himself, he was always trying to carry everyone else’s burdens, it was unfair that no one ever tried to carry him. 

“I just want this to be the Christmas you deserve, Y/N/N.”

“Dean, you’ve already given me that, and so much more. I’ll never forget this, even if I’m lucky enough to live old and develop Altimeters, I will still remember this time here with you. It means that’s much to me.” 

Dean’s eyes traveled to your lips, you didn’t realize you had been gravitating closer to him as you were sitting here talking to him, but right now you were so close to him you could feel his coffee kissed breath fanning over your skin. 

Before your brain could even process what to do next, Dean deliberately leaned closer to you and tentatively captured your lips in his, giving you a sweet, slow kiss that was almost not even there, but at the same time, it was enough to set your heart soaring around the room and light your world on fire all at once. It took a second for your brain to catch up with your body, but as soon as your lips begin to move slowly along with his, he deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, throwing everything he had into it; slipping his tongue across yours as your lips parted with his own, stealing your breath away from you. 

When he pulled away from you he kept his eyes close and leaned his forehead against your own, both of you breathing as if you had run a marathon, the room itself even felt charged with a current of sorts, igniting around you like the air before a southern thunderstorm. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he confessed earnestly, and looking into his green eyes, still pale in color from the morning light you thought surely you must have fallen and hit your head on a hunt, or this was all some fever-induced dream. 

But it wasn’t a dream or a fever-induced hallucination. This was real, Dean was real, and this whole thing was hanging entirely on your acceptance or rejection. He’d taken a chance, and Dean was quite fragile when it came to his emotions, you knew this was the last time you would ever get this chance again if you pushed him away. 

“And I’ve wanted you to do it since the day I met you.”

The wide, relieved smile that spread across Dean’s face could honestly have stopped the world from moving in its tracks if they saw it. Before his lips could reconnect with your own, his phone began to ring loudly on the coffee table, cutting through the still air around you. Sam’s name flashing in bright letters across the screen. 

“You better get that,” you tell him, looking at the clear dilemma developing in his features. “It might be important.”

Reluctantly, Dean reached over, grabbing the phone and answering quickly. “Make it quick Sammy.”

You watched as Dean’s features transformed from annoyed to confusion, and your nerves started to get the best of you. 

“Sure, that’s fine Sammy, what time?... Okay great...see you then.” 

Dean hung up the phone, leaning over and placing another tentative kiss to your lips before lacing his fingers with yours.

“We better get started decorating,” he said, watching the relief spread across your features as he did, and his heart swelled at the idea that you still wanted to say with him, that he hadn’t just overstepped and ruined everything, he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

“What did Sam want?” you ask, still a little concerned. 

“He and Eileen are going to drive up here to see us tomorrow, he swears nothing’s wrong, he just wants to tell us in person. So I figure we get this place in shape, maybe fix a little family dinner and our Christmas with the family tomorrow, that way Christmas morning It can be just me and you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you reached for the box of decorations sitting at the foot of the coffee table, and handed Dean the string of lights to untangle. 

“Well, looks like we better get started then.” 

Dean grabbed the lights from your hands, kissing you quickly again before starting to work on the ball, a new excitement hanging in the air around the cabin. Whatever Sam had to say, good or bad, Dean seemed really excited, and his excitement was contagious. 

Or was it the fact that you were certain your heart would never come down from floating around the raters from that kiss? You didn’t even care what it meant at this point, all you cared about was Dean was kissing you. That was something you never thought would happen. If he gave you nothing else for Christmas, that would be enough.

Forever Tags: 

@deandreamernp​

@forgetthisbull​

@miraclesoflove​

@deanwanddamons​​​ 

@rvgrsbrns​​ 

@chevyharvelle​​ 

@onethirstyunicorn​​ 

@i-love-superhero​​ 

@lyss-dw79​ 

@magssteenkamp​ 

@lemondropirwin​ 

@squirrelnotsam​ 

@hobby27​ 

@spnbaby-67​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​ 

@defenderrosetyler​ 

@screechingartisancashbailiff 

@thecreatiivecorner​  

@vicmc624​ 

@busy-bee-angel-misska​ 

@justanotherwinchester​

@brilovesdeanwinchester​

@idksupernatural​

@lyarr24​ 

@amandamdiehl​ 

@miraclesoflove​ 

 @emoryhemsworth​ 

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ 

@softsebastian 

@tatted-trina6​

@anaelsbrunette​ 

@hayleeharling​   

@flamencodiva​ 

@coldmuffinbanditshoe​ 

@dirty-pan-goblin​ 

@itmejado​ 

@supernatural3002​ 

@teresa-67​ 

@thoughts-and-funnies​ 

@hearteyes-j2​

@miss-nerd95​ 

@writers-whirlwind​

@peaches007​

@bobbie3939​

@lunarmoon8​

Jensen and Dean’s Babe

@akshi8278​

@love-jackles-37-blog​

@supernatural-bellawinchester​

@bobbie3939​

Dean babes

@forgetthisbull​

Series tag list: 

@440mxs-wife​

#dean winchester #spnchristmasbingo #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester series #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #dean x reader #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jawritter #jensen ackles #twelve days of christmas

[wovenstarlight]

rambling thoughts about hyj (canon vs ywbk)

yoojin is so so fascinating as a character to me... i think about him 24/7 he occupies every available inch of brainspace i have. like this man and his issues am i fucking right. so i’m going to talk a bit about how i see him working and how i chose to portray him in my time travel series

so canon hyj, right. he’s like. he’s such a funky narrator. he’s like if i occupy my mind with endless work i will avoid falling into the pit of depression and immense grief from all that i went through pre regression. but also what i went through pre regression wasn’t even that bad. but also everyone who hurt me back then is assholes. but anyway ignore all that because i have work to do.

and on top of that the way he interacts with people is very... i won’t say it’s utilitarian but he’s very focused on what he can do for people and what they can do for him. in a currently-unpublished but translated chapter, he says that (SPOILERS!) he’s asked his thoughts on shj, and he answers that sung hyunjae is a useful man, and yoojin has to be polite to him on the off chance he needs to rely on him in the future. a very “he’s useful” kind of answer. this despite the obvious chemistry he and shj have-- not even in a romance way (though i do like jinjae), they just? get along? they banter easily and they have similar senses of humour and even though sometimes hyj gets exasperated at his behaviour, he still chats with him in a friendly way all the same.

and yet he’s also like SHJ Is Useful And That’s It. I Don’t Like Him At All. and he saves him in his contacts as “skill” and generally acts like he’s completely uncaring. which, compared to how much love he has for hyh and then for byr, i understand- shj at the moment quite honestly does not rank up there at all compared to those two? but he does rank somewhere, i think, because then hyj gets annoyed and upset when shj doesn’t show up to help him, and past a “shit, i needed his specific skillset for this situation and now i’m not sure how to manage this”, he does react in a very... i’ve been let down by someone i had high hopes for, kind of way.

so basically he’s got this whole, i don’t care about people1, thing going on, but then he also very much does care. and hyj is a caring person! fuck, shj even says to hyh at one point that han yoojin-gun has a bad habit of letting people into his heart too easily. what that tells me is that hyj has like.... SEVERE trust issues. he won’t allow himself to care about people, to be aware of any feelings he holds towards people- he makes himself only think about the skills people offer him, about how he can use them. and even then, whenever possible, he does things himself and he avoids relying on others, sometimes because he “doesnt want to bother them [with adult matters]” (that one talk with yoohyun) and sometimes because he just doesn’t really trust them with whatever needs doing

1. as an aside i do think hyj’s moral sense is very funny because like. if anyone touches his fucking kids they’re as good as dead! he’ll kill them! he cares about no one but his kids and everyone else can die! [the world is in danger] ah, fuck, maybe he cares about people who aren’t his kids. he doesn’t want the world to die. but don’t BRING IT UP!!! JEEZ!!! HIS PRIDE!!!! but also if you get blacklisted for whatever reason then Die literally Die he will kill you himself. it’s a very funny, he’s a good person but oh, he’s also a little bit insane, actually. that sort of situation. i love him. go crazy go stupid, sweetie, you’re doing great.

WHICH IN CONTEXT MAKES A LOT OF SENSE, WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT PRE REGRESSION! like hyj was raised with the experience of his parents, the people in the world whose unconditional support he was meant to have, being tossed down the drain because he chose to take care of yoohyun. so he’s already like, yeah, i gotta rely on myself. he has that understanding that.... he’s gotta rely on himself first and foremost, rather than trusting people who are supposed to be taking care of him. not just caring for him, actually, caring for him and yoohyun, because then he basically has to dedicate his life to yoohyun growing up. he’s been acting as yoohyun’s primary guardian from age Baby. and age 17 to 22 was literally just him dropping everything he was doing for himself in favor of getting a job and making sure yoohyun stayed in school and was fine. yoojin himself dropped out of school so he must’ve lost his whole friend group and support system. and then post-dungeon shock, he gets thrown aside and pretty much discarded by yoohyun without so much as a goodbye from the kid, which-- wow! ouch! that shit must have hurted! talk about being fucking burned, jeez. and even after that, spending three years running after yoohyun, trying to “regain” his trust and love, yoojin would’ve seen his Unawakened self as ‘not good enough’ for s-rank yoohyun. and therein comes the “if it’s not useful it’s worthless” mindset. and then he Awakened as f-rank-- already a blow!-- and then on top of that he gets backstabbed by the dozens of people who were like “you’re an s-rank’s brother! go get Awakened, i’ll bet money on you Awakening to a good rank!” and then pulled out on him, leaving him with idk how much debt (this is all mentioned in early chapters somewhere, i’ll pull citations later). man, i’m not surprised he has trust issues.

so that’s already part of his difficulty trusting other people. but then it gets compounded when you think about it further because like, His Fucking Skills, Man. he has a whole skill focused around “if you make an emotional connection with someone and then they die, it’s useful to you.” holy fuck! no wonder he’s allergic to bringing people into battle alongside himself! no wonder he throws himself into dungeons solo just to get freebie skills that allow him to be some semblance of independently combat-ready! every time he makes a connection with people he’s wondering if one day he’ll get their dying memories! you ever wonder how many people he had on his list of “keyworded individuals” pre-reg? he’s stated that he used to be at the back of dungeon parties with a spear (the need for weapons with a longer reach because of his low defense, obviously) and so someone else always died before he did? how many teammates that he cared about has he watched die in front of himself, how many times has he gotten the dying memories of those teammates, how many times have the rest of his living teammates turned on him after finding out his ability and accused him of getting the dead person killed on purpose so that he could have their skills? like hyj brings it up when he’s first explaining last repayment, and hyj cares about people so easily that he’d never do it and yet he still thought of it. which means other people would undoubtedly think of it very easily. and they wouldn’t be as forgiving when there’s a body count right there.

just, last repayment basically took hyj’s (largely yoohyun-induced) fear of losing the people he cared about and slammed his head directly into a concrete wall. thanks for that, king. so now hyj forces himself to constantly asses people on a “what skills do they have? how useful are they to me?” basis if they try to get close to him, rather than allowing him to just go “friend :-) i care them“. and it makes him reluctant to get close to and rely on people, because again, Danger Lies Therein

and all of this also must have made him be used to... being unloved, i guess (from his perspective- yoohyun cared, even when he left, but yoojin didn’t know that until yoohyun died). because most if not all of the people who have cared about or pretended to care about him have later left him. he’s got abandonment issues up the wazoo. when people say they care about him (stw, shj) he reacts with distrust. when he reveals the slightest imperfection he’s convinced they‘ll leave him, regardless of how much kindness he’s shown them in the meantime-- remember when he told myeongwoo he’d lied about them being childhood friends? complete confusion that myeongwoo didn’t immediately renounce their friendship. (SPOILERS FOR UNPUBLISHED CHAPTERS!) and later, it happens again with yerim- he tells her that he wasn’t actually a friend of her parents, he just wanted to poach her for haeyeon-- and then wonders why she doesn’t react with betrayal, when what she says is “i’m glad! ahjussi was so kind to me, i was worried i’d bewitched him somehow. i’m glad he actually cares about me. it makes me happy you were so kind”. he expects to lose the people he cares about, if not by outside causes, then of their own volition.

though on the outside causes front, i suppose it does help that like, all the people he’s growing close to now are hypercompetent high-rankers and therefore less likely to get themselves hurt. versus last timeline’s f-rank and e-rank friends, who’d probably routinely get killed, rip. but then there lies the possibility of yoojin thinking “if i pull them into danger then they’re in that much more danger” (see: Literally The Whole Reason Pre-reg Yoohyun Died. he went to help hyj and got in over his head trying to defend hyj and keep hyung alive, when he should’ve been able to defend himself with ease. hyj and diarma both acknowledge this.) which, again, plays into the reason he tries to avoid relying on other people.

tl;dr hyj’s interpersonal relationships are fucked!

but anyways moving on to talk about my fic versions of canon yoojin (hyj): han hyunjae (hhj) and han yoojin jr. (hyj jr). and how i’ve given them both problems disorders based on hyj’s issues

so like right off the bat we have hhj’s major issue, repeatedly brought up in-fic-- his issue with relying on people. let me pull a quote about this from the author notes of ywbk chapter 11:

some of you might be wondering why the yoojins are so [pretends to be okay and centers self on taking care of others], particularly [hhj]. my thinking for that part was mostly... in canon we see yoojin surrounded by people he knows are competent and capable, almost all of them adults. even when he's "raising" them, he has some degree of confidence in their ability to watch out for themselves. plus he's had time to grow out of being the only one in charge of the family; he's seen his brother come into his own and he's pulled back from his caretaking role

but here, [hhj]'s been directly thrust into raising two kids (and yeah even if [hyj jr]'s 18 he's still very much a child). not only that, but his knowledge of the future makes him (in his eyes) more knowledgable than just about all the folks around him, even the adults. mostly, he doesn't want to drop all his baggage on them when he knows they won't be able to relate (and in some cases, he doesn't want them to live with that knowledge). so he kind of distanced himself from everyone and pushed himself further into the caretaking thing as a way of coping, without realizing that's what he was doing.

we have hhj who, as hyj’s au twin, has the same trust issues and forced utilitarian attitude rising from pre-reg experiences. and then we dropped him into a situation where that “prioritize work and handle all issues myself” attitude is-- i don’t want to say rewarded, exactly, but it’s definitely useful for him in the timeline he’s in. he’s the oldest han brother, so handling issues naturally falls to him anyway as the head of the family; with both boys in school, he’s the breadwinner of the family, so prioritizing work is good! he becomes a super-efficient worker and it satisfies the needs of everyone around him!

unfortunately yoojin is a caring person, so hyj jr realizes that hhj is very much overreaching when he’s not even begun to address the effects of the Very Obvious In A Non-Dungeon World pre-reg trauma. so he’s like. hyung. what the FUCK, dude. take it easy and rely on people once in a while.

and physically, sure, hhj can rely on them. he can get yoohyun to do chores, he can get junior to take on a part time job so funds aren’t a constant worry. he gets better at trusting them to manage regular life stuff, honestly! he’s pretty good about that sort of thing now!

but then it comes to emotional needs, and like, hyj jr is a kid? and hyh is a kid? so any trust hhj builds there is going to be a little one-sided, since he can’t dump all his emotional worries on children. whatever yoojin is, he is a good caretaker who addresses his kids’ needs, and the kids do not need to be hhj’s therapists.

and hhj doesn’t really have friends his own age, and even when he does (hello jiyeon and hamin and orv gang), none of them can quite- Get it, because there’s not really an easy way to explain “i have deep-seated trauma about my family leaving me and about the people around me dying brutally” without, uh, (a) a LOT of trusting them to take you seriously and not snitch (b) explaining some Context about his youth and also the dungeons. (like yeah he could say “i’m scared everyone i care about will die on me in horrifying ways, particularly if they try to get close to me”, but that’s an irrational fear (because why would everyone die horrifyingly, why would getting close to hhj be a death sentence)-- unless you know that “everyone i care about” consists of Hunters and getting close to hhj involves getting involved with dungeons, and then his fear is very real and very understandable, even without knowing about pre-reg. there’s a reason why, even though hhj had four years to grow close to jiyeon, it still took the dungeon shock occurring for him to finally tell her even the smallest bit about pre-regression.

(from jiyeon’s perspective, she doesn’t notice much amiss, because the things hhj is keeping from her are mostly pre-reg related. he doesn’t mind talking to her about his current life, though he is reluctant to talk about some personal issues with her. hamin is a little more distant, because he is still hhj’s boss, so hhj tries to stay mostly cordial with him. orv gang is a more casual relationship- not really the type where he can dump his personal issues on them; and anyway, they’re a tight-knit friend group themselves, so hhj feels a little more on the fringes, not excluded but not fully included, either. a little like hsy does, but without the whole “i have to play the bad guy of the team” mindset.)

and this distance he creates without anyone realizing, this inability of his to fully trust them with all the details of his life, is what results in the freakout around the dungeon shock. the whole, You Are Actively Dying, if you don’t explain yourself right now i’ll finish the job. (though i don’t blame him for not trusting them with his trauma! i don’t really think he’s ready to talk about it. especially with people who don’t yet have any context for even the start of the story. hopefully this’ll change post-dungeon shock, though.)

unfortunately even with his newfound ability to talk about things more freely, he’s still in a sticky situation-- over the years, he’s developed his ability to rely on people for non-life-and-death situations like “earn money on the side”. but sending his brother to take out the trash is very very different from sending his brother to fight dungeons and other Hunters without backup. is very different from needing to risk a life and choosing his brother’s. so despite his hard-won Relying On Others abilities, they don’t extend to dungeon world situations.

and what does this mean, practically? it means, like canon hyj, hhj is going to persistently overreach himself in trying to fight alone-- he’ll try to be competent, to take on adversaries, to build strength in every possible avenue so that he can keep yoohyun and hyj jr and the rest of his family out of danger. he’ll try to be a one-man army, just to defend the people he cares about.

(ONE DAY. one day he will learn that it may not be safe to care, he may still be hurt, but that doesn’t mean he should cut himself off in advance. he’s still allowed to care. he’s still allowed to be cared about. oh, hhj. i want to beat him up but more than that i want to hug him.)

and then there’s hyj jr. oh, junior, you’re a delight. i love the concept of a yoojin who’s never had the trauma of being left behind by yoohyun, who’s gotten to flourish and become everything he has the potential to be, fighting at yoohyun’s side and being amazing. it’s too bad the method i chose to achieve this through also left our prodigal son with extreme issues.

(FAIR WARNING: THIS PART WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LATER PARTS OF YWBK VIS A VIS SOME CHARACTER DECISIONS AND ACHIEVEMENTS. mostly since hyj’s time to shine hasn’t come through quite yet, so we don’t have as much of him)

so our boy junior may not have the various traumas induced by pre-regression, but he does start off with the same parental neglect that makes him hesitant to rely on seniors. and when his parents die, it’s about a week or so before hhj shows up, which junior spends realizing that he’s really going to have to give up his life and completely dedicate himself to guardianship, huh? and then hhj appears, and rips that role out from under him-- not just the “head of the family” role, even the “primary guardian of yoohyun” role. because yoohyun trusts him instinctively, and looks to him with just as much respect as hyj jr. junior becomes desperate to regain that role he’s lived all his life, in whatever form he can, resulting in the chapter 11 blowup. and past me already covered this:

as for junior, he's suddenly gained a new brother out of nowhere who is demonstrably bad at taking care of himself; on top of that, the "head of house + reliable caretaker" role junior's played almost all his life has been stolen out from under his nose without his realizing, and he's not really been able to adjust to suddenly being made to depend on yoojin (and, to a degree, jiyeon). yeah it helps a bit that yoojin's his elder self but even so. so he's attempting to re-assert himself in the role he's familiar with, particularly now that he's due to [go to mandatory service and] not see any of these people for months

he’s trying to figure out where he fits in this new family setup, trying to figure out what he can do for his family. and he would’ve started out on a track similar to hhj, trying to be everything for his family, except then the dungeons start appearing.

and what does hhj reveal? that hyj jr is destined to be an f-rank. that most of the useful skills hhj has, the hard-won power that he has, it’s all earned from other places that hyj jr won’t be able to replicate, most likely. and hyh-- hyh is going to be the pride of the family, as always. s-rank, top of the nation, worldwide hero, peerless and amazing.

hyj jr starts feeling like he’s falling behind. he starts feeling a lot of pressure to keep up. as the dungeon shock hits, he decides he’s going to keep up, one way or another.

and then there’s the aftermath of the shock, and all hyj jr can do is- is sit in the hospital room and wait for hhj to be okay. there’s monsters on the streets, yoohyun is out there killing them and making a difference, and all hyj jr is doing is sitting around. all he can do is offer yoohyun emotional support when he gets back, all he can do is keep jiyeon sane when she calls for daily checkins, all he can do is wait for the nurses to check that hhj is still alive. all he can do is support the people around him without actually acting out himself.

all that determination he had during the shock doesn’t get killed by the realization that he can’t actually do much, with his strengths; by the realization that he can’t be a one-man army like hyung is, sometimes. he decides, instead, that he’s got his handful of things he can do, so obviously the only path left is to do them perfectly.

he throws himself into learning to fight; he throws himself into playing support whenever possible (though allowances are made for being bratty, sometimes, the remaining anxiety from the aftermath of the shock leading to him acting out); he throws himself into working for haeyeon, to the point of becoming the deputy guild leader. he throws himself into perfection so hard that he takes the slightest failure to meet his sky-high expectations hard. (”Why can’t i fight high-ranks without being afraid like hyung can,” says local E-rank without his hyung’s L-rank Fear Resistance) because he only needs to be good at these few things, he can’t do anything other than these few things, so why can’t he at least do this perfect, y’know? why can’t he keep up with his family? why is he never good enough?

(what if he gets left behind again for not being good the way they want him to be? he’d only wanted to take care of yoohyun, and look where that got them.)

so basically, hyj jr winds up with the same Need To Be Enough that hhj has-- but where hhj needs to be able to do Everything, hyj jr needs to be able to do Perfectly at his (self-assigned) Roles. where hhj wants to do whatever he decides needs doing, hyj jr has no illusions about his abilities; he knows he can only be the supportive brother, the hard-working guild leader, the caring friend, the perfect whatever. everything else is something he won’t dare to try for, because he Knows he’ll never be enough. and if he ever fails even slightly at the things he can do, it’s an instant game over, anyway.

congrats, junior, you’ve given yourself clinical anxiety!

but yeah, that’s. yoojins.

#star.txt #hyj let me study you [hand emojis] #my first exam is tomorrow and yet i wrote an essay for an hour and a half. time to do statistics now #i don't claim to be good at character meta. but i will still write it. #ugh i guess i should tag this with the fandom tags #han yoojin #my sranks #work: yesterday will be kinder

[athrialuxegna]

Stronger than she thinks Part 5

Triggers warning: mental and physical abuse, violence, swearing

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fanfiction  | Archiveofourown | Wattpad

Hi guys, I updated the last chapters so they seem nicer to read, tell me what you think about it in the comments. I also edited the links to the previous and next chapters as they were a total mess, sorry about that! I hope that you like this story so far, I try my best to readproof it, but some mistakes remain, my bad if it’s bothering you.

Thanks for those who lived a note on the previous chapters, it means at lot! -Lys

What was I doing? That question rang in my head as I made my way to the Child Care Service. I was not a fan of kids, they bothered me more than anything else. Their cries, tears, and temper tantrums were stress-inducing for me. They made me uneasy and self-conscious with their bluntness. As we all say, "truth always comes from a child's mouth" and that's what put me on edge. I didn't know what to expect of my babysitting day. Why did I accept such a thing? Eric, of course. I wanted to know if it was his idea or if it was just a sick joke on Max's part. One can never be so sure about others' intentions and hidden agendas. The leaders had the power to make everything possible within the walls of the headquarters. Why would they want me near orphans? That's what I intended to discover.

I played with my fingers, eyes fixated on the door decorated with drawings, tiny handprints, and a whole bunch of names. How many children find themselves alone every year? No idea, but it seemed that numerous of them had gone through that door to find a new home. It was not really surprising when we knew that their parents took risks on a daily basis.

Patrols in the factionless territory could turn bad pretty fast. The homeless didn't have anything to lose, they were determined to seek their revenge on the system that shut them down without any possibility to be part of it. I understood where they came from. They had to fight to live whereas all the other factions would sustain themselves without thinking twice about them. Except for the selfless Abnegation faction that helped them the best they could by providing them supplies, clothes, and from time to time, food. However, their violence had dire consequences in the Dauntless faction.

As the soldiers of the city, we were to protect and maintain peace in the streets. We were the first to suffer from the conflicts between Factionless and the system. These children were proof of that. I sighed deeply, my fingers caressing the weird painted animals.

" I'm glad you came here, they're really excited to meet you. "

Startled by Eric's deep voice, I turned around to find him, arms crossed, shoulder pressed against the wall a few feet away from me. A small smile stretched my lips, although I could tell that it didn't match my eyes. I wasn't thrilled at the idea of taking care of children. I have never done it before because I was always afraid to make something wrong and being an only child didn't help either. I swallowed thickly, trying my best to keep my cool in front of the young leader.

"Hey, I didn't know I was coming until now," I admitted in a whisper. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Don't be so tense, they're not that bad. I promise everything will be alright, they gave their word to behave." He reassured, eyes locked in mine.

"I'm not afraid of the children," I snorted softly. "I'm more nervous about me being around them..." I shifted my weight on my other foot before adding: "How do you do? I mean, with the initiates and… kids? " I asked, curious about his answer.

Eric snickered, I didn't expect him to be so confident and relaxed, it was as if he had done it his whole life. Which wasn't far from the truth, he had taken care of the initiates since he became a leader five years ago, if not more. I didn't keep track of time as often as I should considering my job but days were pretty much the same since I've been hired to be Harrison's assistant. I felt my cheeks burn and I looked at my feet, defeated that he mocked me for being a pansycake. Which I was, but still, it hurt.

"If I can do it, you certainly can, Chris. Come on, they won't eat you."

Before I could respond, Eric opened the door and made a sign for me to enter. I heard shuffling and whispers, all noises died down as soon as I was inside. The children lined up obediently, aware of Eric's presence behind my back. I felt intimidated under the scrutiny of their innocent eyes. They were of all different ages and sizes, some were almost teenagers.

"Hi," I waved, almost shy. "I'm Christine but you can call me Chris, it's nice to meet you all."

"Hi Chris." They exclaimed in unison.

One of the oldest stepped forward, his shaggy blond hair falling in his chocolate eyes. His joyful smile was contagious, I couldn't help but return it. However, his expression changed suddenly as he seemed to think about his next words. The younger ones kept gawking at me as if I was an alien coming from another dimension. I felt the tension rising in the room as the blond hair boy opened his mouth. Was he the leader of the group or something? Is this some sort of secret children cult?

It looked like it, and this boy gave me a lot of Eric's vibes. He held his head high, his torso pumped, shoulders behind. A future leader for sure... or another Brent. That thought made me frown. How could I compare him with this asshole without even knowing his name? It wasn't fair for the teen. I pushed away any unwanted images. Having a mental breakdown in front of the kids wouldn't do me any good. No doubt that Eric would report it to Max and I was good for an endless "vacation". The other kids looked at him with mixed expressions, some seemed about to explode from excitement or take a run at any moment to come back to their games, and some were tapping their foot impatiently as if waiting for a signal to be able to speak.

"Before we introduce ourselves and let you join us, you have to pass the test." The boy sounded much older than he looked at that moment.

My jaw clenched as I pictured Brent in his place. It was so easy to see the similarities between them. Were they related? If that's the case, I'll make sure to keep my distance. My eyes widened and I stole a glance at Eric who was smirking. He only shrugged his shoulders when he met my eyes. Damn him, he should have warned me beforehand.

"Depends on what this… test is."

What would they want me to do or say? The blond boy made a sign and all children moved in sync to gather around him, whispering between them to come to an agreement. What was that? After several seconds of heated debates, they finally took their original place. Mini soldiers, perfect future initiates, are already programmed to fulfill the faction's goals. Was it Eric's doing? All these questions drove me insane, I wanted to turn around and talk to the leader alone.

I needed some clarification on what's going on and the rules of this Child Care Service. While I was thinking of it, I didn't see any worker or nurse on my way here. Did nobody care about these kids? Was it a wicked way to push me to take the job? I was so lost that I didn't register that the teenager had taken another step forward, standing right in front of me. He was almost eye level to me, he had to be at least fifteen if not more.

"So, Chris. If you want to become one of us, you have to answer one question." The boy paused to look me dead in the eyes. "What do you think of Eric?"

I blinked a few times, unable to comprehend his question. He curled an eyebrow in defiance, a smirk playing on his lips. His expression matched Brent's perfectly, so much that I shuddered. Heat rose in my cheeks, coloring my skin a deep red, I felt hot and cold, shivers running down my spine. I gathered all my courage to not react when I caught a glimpse of satisfaction in his irises. I won't let this brat get to me that easily. In truth, I was a complete wreck Brent and the boy morphed into the same person in my mind, that same wolfish grin on their lips. I slapped myself mentally to snap out of it. I needed to answer that stupid question or else they'll consider me weak and that wasn't an option.

"Cat got your tongue?" Teased the teenager, arms now crossed over his chest, surely imitating Eric's posture, but lacking his charisma.

" No, I… I didn't expect that kind of question, that's all." I felt Eric's eyes boring into my skull from behind. "We don't work a lot together so I don't think I know him as well as you do, but I trust him, he's a good person, even though he's almost always in a bad mood. I also like his jokes." I added more quieter so that the leader couldn't hear me properly. "Don't tell him that I said that but, sometimes, he's not funny but I laugh anyway to not make him feel bad."

I think I gained some extra points with my remark because the kids burst into laughter, clutching their sides as if recalling the infamous jokes of Eric. I tried my best to smile when the blond boy extended his hand to shake mine. His hold was strong and confident, showing me clearly that I just entered his territory.

"Congratulations, Chris, you're welcomed in the CCS." He bent over to whisper softly in my ear. "Eric didn't lie, you truly are beautiful."

Stunned by his boldness, I stared at him, fear evident in my eyes. Wrong move. Something flickered in his eyes, a malicious glint that made me want to run for my life. What he said took time to reach my mind. Eric told him that I was beautiful? I blushed uncontrollably, his smile grew wider, believing that he was the one to have this effect on me. I opened my mouth to retaliate but he beat me to it.

"I'm Aidan by the way. I'm sure we'll get along very well." He called over his shoulder as he turned on his heels and joined the older ones.

Petrified, I jumped out of my skin when Eric's hand found my shoulder. He put it back right away as if I just burned him. His worried eyes plunged into mine and I knew that I was screwed again. Eric was able to pick up that something was wrong. Something that we couldn't discuss in front of the kids.

"Don't let Aidan get to your head, he just likes to mess with everyone. He's a good boy when you get to know him."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I replied dryly, unconvinced.

One by one, the children came to introduce themselves. There were so many names to remember and faces to attach them to, I started to feel a pounding headache making its way into my brain. At least, it helped me get my mind off Aidan and Brent. I already had a fan club following me like lost puppies around the room. Everytime I turned around they would hide behind furniture, playing innocent. This routine kept going for some time before I got tired of walking aimlessly. The only one following me without even hiding it was a little girl who hasn't said a word since my entrance. I crouched down to her level, a reassuring smile on my lips as she cowered a little from me.

"You didn't tell me your name before," I said gently.

She just looked at me, clutching a stuffed bunny in her tiny arms. Her emerald eyes were mesmerizing, I could almost drown into these pools of rich greenery, they were gradually lighter from the center to turn into a deep olive green on the outer ring.. She looked so small and frail compared to the others, I wondered what her story was. Seconds passed and she didn't try to make a sound. I finally gave up, it will take time for her to warm up to me that's all. I brushed her hair out of her eyes, revealing her porcelain skin.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, it doesn't matter."

To my surprise, she jumped into my arms and clung to me even when others wanted my attention. I sat in a chair, humming softly an old song from before the war. I didn't remember the lyrics nor the title clearly, but I could recall the melody anytime. The mute little girl was snoring in my neck as I rocked her back and forth. She dozed off minutes prior, lulled by my voice. I didn't realize that many children were sitting around us, listening and daydreaming.

Eric was sitting in a chair nearby, his hands behind his neck, eyes closed. He seemed different among the kids, less nervous and on edge, he didn't even have to raise his voice to make his point clear. The children surely respected him. The peacefulness lasted another twenty minutes before a knocking on the door stirred awake the few ones who had fallen asleep. I came back to reality, my hand entangled in the girl's brown hair. When did I begin to stroke her head? She looked comfortable on me, her hands held my shirt as if to prevent me from abandoning her. My heart ached painfully for her, she wanted affection and attention, as any of these kids.

"Chris." I looked up to see Eric towering above me, a knowing smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. "It's time for us to go, the next team is here to take over."

I admitted that I enjoyed my day here, as long as we forgot about Aidan. The girl in my arms shook her head, realizing that we were about to leave. Her fingers curled around my shirt, preventing me from putting her back down. I felt bad so bad that I hugged her back and whispered in her ear.

"I'll come back, I promise."

She refused to let me go as I tried to pry her off. I kept murmuring sweet nothings to ease her pain to no avail, she was stubborn as a honk. Eric approached and tried to take her with him but she fought back, crying silently. I didn't know what to do so I let the leader take matters in his hands.

"Violette, look at me." The brunette looked at him with teary eyes, he gently wiped her tears away. "You know that we can't stay all the time here, we have to eat, work and sleep, too." Violette nodded slightly. "We'll come back before you know it, now Martha will take care of you. I heard that she has a gift for you, one that you wanted for a long time."

Violette's face brightens at the prospect of a new toy. She kissed my cheek then wriggled in my grasp. I put her down and she ran straight to Martha who was ushering the elders towards the bathroom. A contented smile crept upon my lips, kids were so fast to change their minds. I envied their ability to forget about their problems as long as they had anything to play with.

"Fear of abandonment, a hard one to fight against at such a young age." Commented Eric beside me. "They're stronger than most of the initiates that I've trained so far."

"That's not right, they're still kids, Eric."

"I know. I don't like it either, but it's their way of processing what they've been through. They grow up faster than the other kids, they have to look after themselves because they know no one will do that for them. I try to be there whenever I can, it's obviously not enough, you know how a leader's agenda is full."

"I can help." I blurted out before I could think of it.

"That's not why I brought you here." He replied without explaining further as we made our way out of the room.

"Thanks, that was… interesting and surprisingly calming."

"I knew you'd like it. So, you'll come back?"

"Sure, I don't have anything better to do anyway."

"Right."

A casual silence followed our little conversation. My thoughts were drifting away when he spoke again.

"What did Aidan say to you?"

"Nothing to worry about, he was just being a teenager." I dismissed with a flick of my hand.

"Don't lie to me, Chris. I saw the fear in your eyes." His tone grew cold. "What did he say?'

"That's not what he said," I whispered. "He kind of reminds me of Brent. I don't know why but I don't feel safe around him. Damn, I'm ten years older, I shouldn't feel like this." I ran a hand through my hair in an attempt to keep my composure.

Eric remained silent as I stopped dead in my tracks before we came close to a more crowded walkway. He turned his head with an eyebrow raised in question. I sighed, debating whether I should talk to him or simply keep my struggles to myself. He must have sensed my hesitation, he tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing to read into my soul.

"Stop doing this."

"Doing what?" He retorted, genuinely clueless.

"Your "I'm reading your mind look", it's quite annoying." Eric rolled his eyes.

"Then stop thinking that I'll report to Max whatever you say or do, and talk to me instead of overthinking. "

That was my turn to fall into silence, his face softened ever so slightly and I felt guilty. He helped me before I even was aware of it, I should be grateful and trust him, but I couldn't because I didn't trust myself anymore. At least, not for now.

"Chris, I've already told you that seeking help doesn't make you weak nor unworthy. "

My heart skipped a beat, was this his way of saying to let him help me? His cerulean eyes screamed sincerity. Why was he caring so much about my well-being?

"Thank you, Eric. I'll keep that in mind." He nodded curtly. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Meet me here at four, we'll go together."

"Sounds good. " We shared one last look, then we parted ways.

#ericxoc #eric coulter #eric divergent #divergent #divergent fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #four #eric divergent x oc #eric coulter x oc

[valiantly-onward]

The Serpentine War Ch. 12

Chapter 12: The Way Of The Ninja

The camp was buzzing by morning with news of Garmadon’s arrival. For his part, Wu remained holed up with his brother inside the tent, deep in discussion.

“You should see everyone,” Wu told him. “They are a fine Alliance. I’ll have them assembled.”

Garmadon made no protest. Wu quickly sent Haru to gather the Masters, and came back to the tent. He stood in the entryway for a moment, smiling. Overnight, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He wasn’t doing this alone anymore.

“In honor of your arrival -” Wu began.

Garmadon looked up drily. “Wu -”

“I will give you -”

“Stop.”

“- my firstborn son.”

“Come on.”

Wu thought for a moment. “Or tea. I’ll just get you tea.”

He crossed the floor to his small firepit. He shifted the logs to coax the fire back into being, then hung his teapot on the rack. After it simmered for a while, Wu offered a cup to his brother. “I’m glad you’re here. I couldn’t do this without you. Believe me, I’ve been trying.”

Garmadon accepted the tea and stood. “I know, brother. That’s why I’m here.” He patted Wu’s shoulder and walked out, sipping his drink.

Wu stuck his tongue in his cheek and shook his head as he rose to follow.

Outside, the Alliance had congregated. Pride flared in Wu’s chest at the sight of them. Ray stood off to the left - when had he gotten so tall? - with Maya leaning against his shoulder. Those two had become closer than either realized; only an outsider could see it. They suffered severe familiarity and understanding. Give them a few hundreds years together and they’d be unstoppable.

Garmadon folded his arms, his teacup still in one hand. “So,” he began loudly. “What do we know about the Serpentine?”

The Masters stared at him.

Wu stepped forward. “Alliance, this is my brother, Garmadon. He will be joining us. You answer to him the same as you answer to me.”

Garmadon nodded his thanks to Wu, and asked again, “What do we know about the Serpentine?”

“Ugly!” Acronix shouted.

Laughter rippled through the small gathering.

“That,” Garmadon conceded. “What else? What do we know about them from battle?”

There was pensieve silence. Finally, Maya said, “We’ve never won a battle with Anacondrai. Every other tribe, yes. Not them.”

Garmadon nodded in agreement. “So, naturally, we must find the Anacondrai weakness if we ever hope to defeat the Serpentine.”

The Masters shifted uncomfortably. “But they have no weaknesses,” Vivian called forward.

“I said we must find one,” Garmadon replied. He paused; a look appeared in his eyes that Wu recognized all too well. He continued, “Which is why I’m sneaking into their camp tonight to spy on them.”

Uproar ensued. Wu simply watched as the Masters clamored and argued. It was insane! No one could sneak up on an Anacondrai. The risk spelled certain death, or capture in the very least.

Finally, Haru emerged from the contention with an actual question. “Will you go alone?”

“I could, but I prefer not to.” Garmadon’s eyes flicked back to Wu, for confirmation. Wu carefully nodded his agreement. He hadn’t considered sending spies so close to the Serpentine, but if anyone could pull it off, it was Garmadon.

“Well, then,” Garmadon declared. “I’ll need your stealthiest Masters. The Master of Shadow, perhaps? And you can still turn invisible, can’t you, Master of Light?”

True to his name, Sam Pale looked pale. Nevertheless, he stepped out from between Ray and Dojin. “I saw how you snuck around last night. You got me, uh...what should we call you?”

“Master Garmadon will do.” Garmadon raised his chin. “And the Master of Shadow?”

Lei raised a hand. “You’re crazy, Master Garmadon, but I dig it. I’m coming”

Garmadon nodded. “Good. We’ll convene here at sunset.”

He dropped back beside Wu, which Wu understood as turning over the floor. He stamped his staff. “Very well, everyone. Back to your usual duties, and the sentry schedule. Ray, Maya, I need you to go down to retrieve Lorin from the village. I - we - will give new orders once we know more about the situation. Dismissed.”

The Masters slowly dispersed, Ray and Maya jogging off in the direction of the village. Wu turned to his brother, who watched the Alliance go with deep contemplation.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Wu asked.

“Yes,” Garmadon replied, with no room for question in his voice.

“Then I trust you.”

Something flickered in Garmadon’s gaze, fleeting. But it was gone nearly as soon as it arrived. “Thank you, Wu.”

Wu grinned, and deftly swept Garmadon’s tea cup into his own hand. “But three of you, sneaking in after dark? I still don’t like it.”

“Relax, brother,” Garmadon said, already stepping backward into the tent. “I am, after all, a ninja.”

~~~

This mission served multiple purposes.

For one, Garmadon didn’t really need to spy on the Serpentine. He knew their basic strategy in this area, since he’d helped design it. That advantage wouldn’t last long; Chen would surely inform the Anacondrai that Garmadon had switched sides. Still, he didn’t want Wu to know how he’d obtained his prior information. So this mission would cover that.

The other purposes? Exactly what he’d said: learn the Anacondrai weakness. And, as a bonus, begin assessing the Alliance, starting with the Masters of Shadow and Light.

The hills were black as pitch at night. Garmadon was careful to avoid the areas he knew the snakes were, but he couldn’t be sure. And neither Lei nor Sam Pale were as stealthy as their powers had led him to believe.

After Lei tripped over another rock, swearing under her breath, Garmadon pulled to a stop.

“What is it?” Sam Pale asked, creeping up at Garmadon’s shoulder.

It was the Serpentine camp. Garmadon fell into a crouch, and the Masters followed in suit. Here, the hills sloped down into the edge of desert lands. A line of Serpentine guards stretched along the base of a small valley. Garmadon figured there would be more invisible Anacondrai sentries further out. The brightness of the camp torches and firepits seemed a little gaudy and stupid to him, but he soon recognized the problem they presented.

Sam Pale squinted as he tilted his head. “How are we supposed to get close? It’s bright as noon down there. And those guards?”

Garmadon sighed. The Master of Light presented a good point; the light would make it difficult to approach in shadows. But he lacked vision. “And so this becomes a lesson. Come here, both of you.”

They scooted closer. He crouched over their backs, pointing from between them. “You see that big tent down there? It’s casting shadows in every direction from those torches. The shadows aren’t very dark, but they exist. Lei, I want you to stay within those shadows as much as possible. How long can you stay incorporeal?”

“A few minutes,” Lei replied. “Maybe fifteen before I have to come out.”

“Test that limit. You will enter the shadows behind that tent and move from tent to tent. I want you to survey the Anacondrai troops as much as possible. Details, Lei. Meet behind the big tent when you’re done. Go.”

The Master of Shadow nodded. Just like that, her form turned misty and vanished. The shadows around them grew unnaturally long for a moment, in response to her presence; Garmadon knew she was gone when they returned to normal.

Garmadon patted Sam Pale’s shoulder. “You will be opposite Lei. You must stay in the light to turn invisible, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then stay in the light. Your orders are the same as Lei’s. Stay out there for as long as you can, and rendezvous behind the big tent.”

Sam Pale sat up on his haunches, shaking out his long hair. “What are you gonna do - uh, sir?”

“You’ll find me behind that command tent.” Garmadon gestured with his chin. “Go.”

So he did. The Master of Light crept slowly down the hill, the firelight gradually growing, and finally faded into the colorless air.

Garmadon crouched still for a moment in the warm night, whispering a near-silent prayer to his father. Then he slid down the other side of the rock face and let his instincts take over.

How could he have forgotten this? The thrill of this ancient art passed from the First Spinjitzu Master to Garmadon and from Garmadon to hundreds throughout the young history of the world. His own years of ninja training seemed so, so long ago, yet he still remembered every form with perfection.

Thankfully, he didn’t run into any invisible Anacondrai. But he soon realized that there would be no getting to the command tent without passing through that sentry line. So Garmadon chose a Serpentine duo far enough from their brethren that their disappearances might pass unseen.

He rolled soundlessly behind a boulder, then stepped out from behind it.

The Hypnobrai soldiers saw him.

Rather than slowing at their alarm, Garmadon picked up speed. He leapt up when he reached them, grasping one in a headlock and swinging around its shoulders. One strike to the soft spot behind its frill, and the Hypnobrai collapsed. Before it even hit the ground, Garmadon was already springboarding off its shoulders, falling kick-first toward the second soldier. This Hypnobrai swiped with his blade; Garmadon reoriented to avoid the well-placed strike. He hit the ground with a somersault, sprang up, and caught the Hypnobrai’s sword by the hilt as it slid past him. The Serpentine’s slit-eyes dilated, seemingly in slow-motion, as Garmadon yanked the sword to throw the creature off-balance. As it fell past him, he slammed its soft spot.

Two Serpentine down.

As Garmadon considered the fallen, he lamented the absence of an Anacondrai weak point. The Hypnobrai’s ability to induce the minds of others came with a flaw. But the Anacondrai power of invisibility had no downside. There was no way to neuter their abilities because most of those abilities were simply skill. Perhaps that was why the Anacondrai valued honor so much - at least, as much as snakes could. Unlike the other tribes, an Anacondrai couldn’t cheat their way to victory.

Garmadon stepped over the immobile Hypnobrai - it would be a long time before they awoke - and ducked down behind the tent. There were voices inside, marred by hisses and strained tones. Garmadon dared to lift the corner of the flap, just to see what he was dealing with.

Once, he and Wu had been familiar with all the Serpentine generals. Now, it was a scramble to remember even names. There were three Garmadon could see - a Venomari, a Fangpyre, and an Anacondrai.

The Fangpyre Kandoras was the oldest of the generals, two-headed like his father before him, and like his son after him; Fangpyre chiefdoms usually passed through blood, not combat. Kandoras was wise, and, to the Alliance’s benefit, he was reluctant to fight. He’d caused Chen a lot of trouble during the last few weeks.

Then there was Acidicus, the brilliant Venomari general, and Thraask, one of Arcturus’ right-hands, the bloodthirstiest Anacondrai Garmadon had ever met. Chen must’ve moved a lot of pieces around to get him to command this force.

“...enough, Traask,” Kandoras was saying. “These fools think we’re attacking them because of that giant snake roaming the countryside. We have to leave this place before the humans decide we’re too close.”

“It is not our fault if the humans are fools, as you say,” General Traask replied. Unlike Arcturus, he was diminutive for an Anacondrai, but a violent shade of purple graced his scales, glistening in the torchlight. “I assure you, General Arcturus knows what he’s doing.”

Giant snake, Garmadon thought. There was only one person he knew who kept such a creature. Apparently, sorcery wasn’t Clouse’s only means of wreaking havoc.

“We do not doubt the great general has a plan,” Kandoras’ second head continued, silkier than the first. “But are we simply to cast this treaty away?”

Traask clicked his talons together as he turned to the Venomari. “Tell me, General Acidicus, what does the human say?”

Acidicus’ intelligent eyes gleamed. “The human himself admits his people will turn on us.”

“So you see,” Traask declared, his snaky head twisting back toward Kandoras. “We are simply preparing for the inevitable. This treaty is nearly at an end.”

Someone harrumphed in the corner. Garmadon couldn’t see who it was from his vantage, but Traask spun toward the sound, flicking his tail in annoyance. “General Slithraa?”

The name was unfamiliar to Garmadon, which probably meant it was a new general who had recently won a throne through combat.

“Forgive me, my commander,” said a voice in reply. “but you tell us what we already know. My question is simply when we strike and how?”

Kandoras wound his way forward. His first head spoke again. “We object strongly. We cannot attack until the humans attack us. Traask, you of all serpents must understand honor. Your general made an agreement. We did not bring our tribe into this war so we could become cowards.”

Slithraa, still out of sight, chuckled raspily. “If you ask me, you didn’t need this war to become such.”

Kandoras was atop the Hypnobrai in an instant. His two snouts wrinkled fiercely. “Do not speak to me, neonate. Do not forget that your people were the last to join our union.”

Slithraa slid forward, so Garmadon could see him for the first time. The Hypnobrai was big for his age, a wide fan around his head, scales extensively patterned with yellow swirls. In one hand, he bore the golden staff of his people. Each of the Serpentine in the room, with the exception of Traask, also carried one. The antivenom contained in each could dispel the effects of the individual tribes’ abilities - the only such substance that existed in the world. Unfortunately, the Anacondrai staff was in Ouroboros.

“Traask,” Slithraa said, without looking away from Kandoras. “If you do not remove this disgusting pacifist from my sight, I will take my leave, with my army.”

“Now, let us be reasonable.” Traask slithered between them. “We are all Serpentine here. We are all brethren. Kandoras, if you so wish, you may recall your forces back to another camp. But -” He leered at the Fangpyre. “If we are attacked by the humans, I will hold you personally responsible if we fail to repel them. Understood?”

Garmadon figured the old Fangpyre’s pride would keep him from saying no, but whether he was proven right, he never found out. At that moment, Lei emerged from the shadows.

Only Garmadon’s nightmares and years of training kept him from jumping back in alarm and blowing their cover. “Lei -”

“Yeah, sorry,” she whispered, dismissive. Then she seemed to think better of it, and added, “Master Garmadon.”

He shoved a finger to his lips to quiet her. While Lei raised her eyebrows at the unconscious Hypnobrai guards, Garmadon leaned back to the tent flap. It seemed Slithraa and Kandoras had left, for their voices were nowhere to be heard.

“How would you like me to prepare?” Acidicus asked.

“Double the nightly patrol. Send word to General Skalidor and his Constrictai to prepare. Only one can remain.”

“Only one can remain.” There was a shuffling rasp, which meant one of them had slid out the tent door. Garmadon backed away.

“What was that about?” Lei hissed.

Garmadon was beginning to form an answer when shouts exploded from the parallel line of tents. Traask growled angrily from the other side of the tent wall. The hurried sound of scales on rock and dust accompanied a troop of snakes flashing past on the road.

Sam Pale materialized at the dividing line between light and shadows. His long hair looked slightly charred on one side.

“Sam Pale, what did you do?” Garmadon demanded.

Sam Pale flicked a finger at him. “A bit of a funny story, really. They think I’m a peasant though, so what do you say we run before they find out different, eh?”

~~~

Sam Pale and Lei weren’t stealthy, but they were fast.

Garmadon hung back, watching their trail, scuffing it as best he could. He could hear Serpentine hissing in the rocks and calling to each other, but none appeared in the shadows. Even as the Masters slowed, Garmadon snapped at them to keep going. They weren’t out of danger yet.

Garmadon called on some of his power too. He couldn’t do what Lei could, but the darkness did deepen as he raced past. At his command, rocks split in the distance, causing the Serpentine to move in the direction of the sound. Soon, the lights of their Alliance camp appeared over the hills.

Finally, Garmadon allowed the Masters to rest. Sam Pale tromped over to a rock and sprawled himself over the motley, dust-ridden grass. Lei brushed off the front of her purple robes. “Well.” She blew a loose strand of hair from her eyes. “That was a waste.”

“No, Master of Shadow,” Garmadon corrected, combing back his hair with a hand. “We learned something.”

“Which is?”

Garmadon smiled. “The Serpentine are at odds. Not even their generals can agree. Which means…” He looked up at the camp, firelight in his eyes. “They’re vulnerable.”

@greenygreenland

#the serpentine war #ninjago #ninjago fic #garmadon

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part eight

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

A/N: So here’s part eight!! It’s the first of two parts I’m dedicating to the Origins of the OC character. It explains her ties to Vought and the reason why she’s plotting against them. There is no Black Noir in this chapter :( but it’s important for the story. The next chapter will explain her connection to Mallory, and then after that you’ll be seeing much more interaction with our boy Black Noir!!

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

    Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

The Beginning

That night she found herself running in her dreams, just as she did every time she let herself sleep. It always revolved around the beginning of it all, the birth of what plagued her and would haunt her for the rest of her life. She always found herself back at square one, Vought Laboratories.

When she’d been diagnosed with a rare form of immune disease, her parents had been devastated at the lack of resources or therapies available. They’d do anything for her, and they scoured the country’s best hospitals and universities for medicines and potential therapies. Greg and Tara wanted their little girl cured, they wanted her to get a chance at life.

Finally, they found an experimental drug going through clinical trials that might’ve proved successful in correcting the genetic error that was triggering her immune system into attacking her own cells. A team of recruiters from Vought had approached them one day at a hospital, while she’d been getting ready for a check-up. They said they’d investigated her case and had spots available in their trials should she want to try it out. Since the medicine was still under observation, they could only assure an 85% rate of success, and at a lower price. They visited their home multiple times with fliers, power points and data. They assured her parents of the drug’s safety. While it worked in 85% of the patients it never demonstrated any kind of risk or dangerous counter effects. Her parents stayed skeptical for many months, asking questions, and raising concerns, but what ultimately pushed them was their daughter’s heart failure and hospitalization.

She was nine at the time. And as her time quickly diminished, Greg and Tara hurried and signed her up for the program. The experts and physicians at Vought visited her and gathered all of her information before quickly drafting the appropriate dosage for her. She’d have to stay at Vought Laboratories’ clinic far from the city, isolated from the outside world. They had explained this by pointing out the fragile state of her immune system, and the need for her to recover in a safe environment. Lies, so many lies.

The first months went by smoothly, and while she missed her parents, the little girl played with her new friends enjoying the renewed energy coursing through her body. She could run again, and dance and hop without needing to lie down. She could see her parents through a glass window during visitation day every week and they, too, felt relief when they saw her so lively, so different from the pale, skeletal figure she’d been after her hospitalization. Tara felt horrible over the first weeks of not having her at home, not being able to care for her and simply hold her daughter. But when she saw her on the other side of the glass pane, she couldn’t imagine stripping this opportunity away from her.

“Mommy, mommy, look,” the little girl would call while twirling and running around the room, jumping in excitement.

Tara pressed her hand against the glass, eyes brimmed with tears.

“Yes, honey, I see—you’re so strong now.”

The little girl just nodded enthusiastically.

A year later is when the trouble started. She had almost reached the end of therapy when she was moved to another section of the clinic with another small group of kids ranging from about ten to fourteen years old. They were shown a power point explaining their purpose in the project. She hadn’t understood at that time, but she now knew what they meant to say was “guinea pigs.” Basically, the drugs they had been taking had modified certain sequences in their genome in a way that diverged from other subjects. They wanted to understand why, as well as see how far they could go. They concluded by saying that they might end up with powers.

Now, superheroes already existed even though they weren’t yet such an important trademark. But people believed they were born that way. And here you had scientists telling young, impressionable children that they could develop powers even though they weren’t born with them. One can only imagine how they awaited with glee for the program to start.

The children saw their parents less and less, and this was explained by their busy schedule of medical visits, tests, activities, school, and sports which were all provided in this secluded, isolated section of the clinic. What they were actually doing was being subjected to insane amounts of physical and psychological stress. Now the drug had proceeded to cure and further improve their cell genes, but there was a need for an environmental stressor to induce the mutation’s manifestation. They had to wake these new, dormant genes, and for this reason they did atrocious things.

One kid, Norman, presented a gene that is found in organisms that can breathe underwater. They proceeded to force him underwater and keep him there until he was on the brink of drowning.

Another one, Chloe, was thought to be able to heal as her genome held a gene commonly found in animals capable of regrowing a limb, such as lizards. They cut, burned, and maimed her for results.

Some of the children ended up developing a reaction to the duress, awakening their evolved genes. Others died from the intensity of the physical torture. And of those who successfully became enhanced, only few ultimately survived due to the instability of their mutation.

A comment frequently noted by the physicians when taking the patients’ parameters was that the reaction, the gene’s manifestation tended to grow stronger and stronger ‘till it became unsuitable for life. In other words, it ended up killing the host.

Greg and Tara’s little girl too endured the process to achieve greatness, as they had called it. And at first, she’d been enthusiastic, dreaming of becoming a superhero. She stayed up late after-hours skimming through comic books brought in by the therapists. Only later would she understand they had preyed on their naivety and dreams. The children grew obsessed with becoming like the characters in the comic books. The little boys dreamed of becoming like Homelander, and the little girls dreamed of flying.

Greg and Tara couldn’t know that their little one, instead of learning in class, spent her morning being constantly electrocuted. The physicians had high hopes for her and projected that she’d be able to conduct great amounts of energy through her body without burning or dying from electrocution. Her feet in freezing cold water, she sat in a hard, metal chair with a wired contraption wrapped over her forehead.

Every day, she was subjected to shocks of increasing intensity. They talked of “jerking her awake,” hoping that the right shock would trigger her genes into working against the effects of the shock. Finally, one morning, the pain subsided, and she began to absorb the energy rather than try to escape it. It felt odd to her, a warmth pervading her completely. The physicians were beyond content, they were amazed by her abilities. She was a success. They quickly learned she was able to absorb different forms of energy and transfer it. She practiced sticking a finger in an electrical socket before touching the objects laid in front of her. Immediately, the object would fly away, scalding hot.

But the initial glee of having powers slowly faded away, and the girl who was turning twelve wanted it to be over. She just wanted to go home. She yearned to call her mommy and daddy to come and take her away, and every time she saw a cell phone laying around, she subconsciously moved towards it. Unfortunately, she didn’t know their numbers.

She talked about it with the clinic’s therapist.

“Why is this coming up now? Is something wrong?”

The girl fidgeted in her seat, “I just want to go home.”

The therapist gave her a stretched smile, cold and far too wide.

“I understand you miss your mommy and daddy, but you have to stay so we can make sure you’re okay.”

She whined, “But I’m doing better.”

“I know, honey, but—”

The little girl grew fussy and cut her off, “I want my mommy.” When the therapist began to comfort her with empty promises, that distinct feeling of total warmth spread throughout her body. Her eyes shined a light blue, like lasers ready to sizzle anything in front of her, and the therapist immediately stopped speaking.

“There’s no need for that, we’ll set up a visitation day,” she quickly granted, gathering her folder and leaving the room.

The girl grew increasingly aggressive and wouldn’t allow the physicians to touch her. She didn’t want anyone but her parents.

When the day finally came, her parents were ecstatic to see and spend some time with her after two weeks of not being able to contact her. The therapy had worked, and they were thankful to Vought, but what they saw that day haunted the last few minutes of their lives. Their daughter looked ghastly, caramel skin chalky and dry. Her eyes were tired and dark bags hung under her eyes. To her mother’s horror, she looked as sick as her days in and out of hospitals before Vought’s medications. Tara pressed her hand to the glass, tears running down her face. The little girl immediately ran up to the glass, speaking fast.

“Please, I wanna go home,” she pleaded over and over, like a mantra of desperate hope.

Her father grew agitated and turned on her therapist who was also in the room to smooth things over. Certain things couldn’t be said and leave the building. It would bring the world’s ethics community down on all of their heads. This was worse than pumping Compound V into newborns. This was altering children’s DNA and torturing the survivors into an enhanced state of being.

“What happened to her? She was doing so well,” he exclaimed.

“Mr. Stacker, please there is no need to yell,” his face twisted in anger as she continued, “She has been rejecting the medications, we believe she hasn’t been taking them regularly as she’s supposed to.”

“She’s almost twelve, you’re supposed to check that she does that.”

The little girl was crying at this point, banging her little fists soundlessly against the glass.

“Mommy, help me.”

The therapist tried to grab the distressed parents’ attention, “If you could follow me, we can talk about this in more detail.”

“We can do that here,” Greg countered, “we’ve been here for not even five minutes and our daughter is crying out to us—you think we’ll just leave her?”

“No, sir—I just assumed—”

The girls pleading voice cut through her parents’ hearts, “They’re hurting me.”

Her father stared at her. What had they done? The choice had been difficult and ultimately, they decided between the therapy and her disease, between life and death. But if they were hurting her for all this time, it wasn’t life. It was solitary pain.

Tara was crying as she too turned on the therapist who wasn’t sure how to save the situation. Her father firmly stated what they’d both already decided, “We’re taking her home.”

“But sir, you signed a contract—”

“I don’t give a damn, she’s coming home—we can bash this out in court if you care about this contract that much.” He leaned closer, “But I’m sure you don’t want this whole project leaked, do you? What are you actually doing here?”

The therapist plucked her com from her pocket and quickly spoke into it, “We need security in visitation room number nine, I repeat, visitation room number nine.”

Tara erupted, “What do you mean security? You can’t take us away from her.”

“Like I was trying to say, the contract—"

The distressed mother screamed, “We don’t give a fuck about the contract—fucking sue us.”

And then all mayhem erupted. Four security guards burst into the room and quickly grabbed a hold on the two parents, trying to cuff them. Tara looked back at the little girl as they resisted.

“We’ll get you baby, okay? Marianna, look at me, you’re coming home.”

Her father punched a guard before being hit in the ribs with a baton. He fell to the floor and they were all onto him, beating and beating, not giving him the chance to stand back up. Tara screamed and tried to pry them from her husband before one swung at her and pushed her into a corner. The therapist quickly fled the scene, her heels clicking away.

The little girl watched and watched, and when she saw her father stop moving, when she saw her mother being tossed away, something snapped. It was like her center shifted, and an all-consuming anger pervaded her senses, taking over.

It happened so fast, her eyes lighting up, the building shaking, then the shattering blast.

When the dust finally settled, there was nothing left but a crater and a little girl lying amid the smoke and ashes. Curled up in a ball, shivering, she was the bomb still intact. She was the eye of the storm.

MASTERLIST

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