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pedrointofolklore · 8 months

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Long story short

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: weeks had passed since your steamy kiss with joel, and you wanted more. sequel to this is me trying.

warnings: smut 18+ mdni, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, joel miller has a big dick, emotional sex, brief mention of sex as currency (as part of reader’s backstory), allusions to depression and suicidal ideation, lots of fluff with a bit of angst, enemies to lovers (they’re in their lover era), extremely soft joel, joel is so disastrously in love, self-loathing due to a guilty conscience, lots of swearing, age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, ellie era (ellie is only mentioned)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: hey y’all. so part one did way better than i ever expected. thank you to everyone who has supported it. if you haven’t read it i highly recommend you do before reading this. if you have read it: enjoy part two! the title is once again a taylor swift song.

It had been weeks since you kissed Joel.

Neither of you acknowledged it. After the shitstorm that was Kansas City, your focus was making it to Wyoming on foot. Addressing one kiss wasn’t high on the list of priorities.

But you still thought about it. A lot. And it seemed like Joel did too.

Joel Miller wasn’t nice as a rule, but he was good to you. He confided in you, asked for your input, and did what he could to make you feel like your presence was important. Whether or not it was actually important, you just appreciated that he was trying.

And you were trying too. You were doing your best to be present, focus on the positives, and take a breath before sprinting headfirst into danger. Just as Tess would have done.

You couldn’t have predicted that Ellie would end up inspiring you. There was something about her that reminded you of yourself (which was ultimately cause for concern), but she was different in the ways that mattered most. She was funny and resilient and excited about things, even in this vile world she was living in.

You wanted to be more like her.

There was an abandoned, isolated cabin somewhere between Kansas City and Kearney—you weren’t sure exactly where at this point. It was a corroded, rotting structure, with shattered windows and wooden panels threatening to collapse, but it was better than sleeping outside in the middle of nowhere.

There were two beds and a couch inside. Ellie passed out almost immediately after calling dibs on the bed upstairs. The poor girl was exhausted. Meanwhile, Joel laid down on the couch and shut his eyes, pretending to go to sleep. This was clearly an act; he wasn't going to sleep, he was going to keep watch.

You hadn’t slept in a bed since the QZ, and though this bed was old and musty and probably infested with microscopic bed bugs, it somehow felt like the most comfortable thing in the world. This was the first time in so long it didn’t feel like you were in a rush. You could just exist and let your mind wander.

Letting your mind wander was something you typically avoided, but instead of your thoughts leading you down a trail of despondency, they led you to Joel. You pictured him sitting upright on the couch, scanning the area through fractured windows, clutching a shotgun and trying to stay awake. You wondered what he was thinking about.

If you still want it later, you can have it.

That was what he’d said to you. It was such a new feeling; wanting Joel, wanting anything. You thought about the kiss again, and a warm, tingly sensation spread throughout your entire body like ink seeping into wet paper.

It was later, and you still wanted it.

Joel was awake.

This wasn’t new. Joel hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in 20 years, but it had gotten worse lately.

He’d failed everyone in Kansas City, but most of all Ellie. It left him in a constant state of unease, just waiting for something else to go wrong. Even sleeping stressed him out now.

Then, there was you.

As everything around him gradually fell into shambles, it felt like he needed you more everyday. You were good and clever and really the only person in the world who made Joel feel like he could do this, and that terrified him. You were trying so hard, but he still had this paralysing fear of losing you.

Joel hadn’t forgotten what happened, and he hadn’t forgotten what he said.

If you still want it later, you can have it.

He wasn’t even sure what ‘it’ was referring to. Was it that he’d fuck you if you asked? He would, but he didn't think that was really what he meant.

He also wasn’t sure if you wanted it. Maybe the kiss had been just a random moment of weakness for you. Maybe you woke up the next morning and realised that Joel was the last person in the world you could ever want. The thought gnawed at him; infected him like some faceless monstrosity with razor-sharp teeth.

But if by some chance you wanted it—wanted him—he would give you everything he had. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, and certainly not your admiration, but you deserved to get whatever you wanted out of him. He would let you come to him, and he would do anything you asked if it meant keeping you here.

The sound of your door clicking open jerked Joel from his anxious ruminating. His eyes followed you as you sauntered over to the couch and plonked yourself down next to him, crossing your legs with an air of forced nonchalance.

“What are you doing up?” Joel asked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said. “You’re also up.”

“Just keepin’ watch.”

“We’re indoors in the middle of nowhere, Joel,” you replied. “I think you can sleep for a bit.”

Joel didn’t say anything. He couldn’t get into this with you. He didn’t want to ruin the newfound trust you had in him by letting you know what a mess he was.

“Unless there’s something else keeping you up,” you spoke in a nervous whisper, like you were testing the waters to see if Joel would actually entertain this conversation.

Of course he would. There were things Joel didn’t want to talk about—anything that had ever happened to him, for example—but the only thing stronger than his propensity to never let anyone in was the urge he had to never deny you.

“Just been worried about you, I guess.”

Your mouth formed a constrained smile. It didn’t quite reach your eyes. “We talked about this. I’m fine now, Joel.”

“One talk can’t solve everything.” Or one kiss, for that matter.

“I’m not asking you to solve anything,” you replied, your tone becoming heightened. “Worry about the important things, like Ellie and finding your brother and—"

“You are important.”

He felt a rush of anger, but not at you. Never at you. He was angry at himself. Of course you felt unimportant when he’d spent so long making you feel that way. It wasn’t fair that he got to wake up one day and decide to stop being an asshole while you still had to live with the consequences of his assholery.

You sat there not saying anything, and Joel was certain that you were about to walk away from this conversation. The irony wasn’t lost on him; for two people who hated heartfelt discussions, you couldn’t seem to stop finding yourselves in the middle of them.

“Joel…” Your voice came out breathy and desperate. It was completely unexpected. He couldn’t describe the feeling of hearing you say his name like that. All he knew was that he wanted to fall to his knees at your feet.

“What do you need?” Joel asked. He hoped that he already knew the answer.

“I need you.”

He let out a shaky exhale—relieved and nervous all at once. “You have me, sweetheart. You know that."

Being naked on a grotty mattress with a fully-clothed man above you should have been horrifically vulnerable, but you couldn’t muster up any uncertainty with Joel. All you felt was an excited kind of anticipation.

You never expected Joel to be so affectionate, but he held you like you were something worth caring for. He took his time, kissing you slow and undressing you bit by bit until you were bare for him. You felt the same heated intensity you had that night in the woods, but without the crushing sense of urgency.

Your breath hitched when Joel trailed kisses from your chest down past your navel. He stopped at the lowest part of your belly, looking up at you with lustful, imploring eyes. “Can I taste you, sweetheart?”

“Please…” You already sounded embarrassingly wrecked.

Your body jolted when Joel dragged a finger through your soaked slit, gathering up the obscene amount of wetness that was dripping out of you and spreading it over your aching clit.

Then, without a word, he pushed himself up and off the bed. You looked at him in dismay, about to berate him for teasing, but your voice caught in your throat when he crouched down at the end of the bed and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you forward until your ass was lined up with the edge of the mattress, and your legs were thrown over his shoulders.

The sound that escaped you when Joel sucked your clit into his mouth was borderline feral. You didn’t know you were capable of making a noise like that—something between a pathetic gasp and a wanton moan.

“Oh f—Joel! Feels so good. What the fuck.” You were breathless and shaking and grabbing a fistful of his hair.

“Ssh, sweetheart,” Joel hushed. You clenched around nothing when his warm breath hit your drenched core. “Need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me, baby?”

He didn’t even wait for you to try and compose yourself before devouring you again. He had a lot of audacity to think he could tell you to be quiet as he tongue-fucked you senseless. And then, like he was trying to get you to scream, he prodded a finger at your entrance and slipped it inside.

“That feel good?” Joel asked, curling his finger as he pumped it into you.

You whined and pulled his hair harder. He let out a low groan and continued flicking his tongue over your clit, and it dawned on you that he wasn’t just doing this to make you feel good—he was doing it because he liked it.

He added another finger, and this time you did scream, but not before clasping a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. It was too much now. His mouth and fingers were unrelenting, as if worshipping your cunt was his only purpose on this earth.

“Joel—F-fuck—I think I’m gonna come.”

“You can come, baby. I got you.”

Those three words were all you needed. You came hard, sobbing and writhing and crushing Joel’s head between your thighs as you tried to clamp them shut. He could not have given less of a fuck—he continued his onslaught between your legs until you were twitching with overstimulation and pulling him off by his hair.

You threw an arm over your eyes, trying to catch your breath and recover from that earth-shattering orgasm. You heard the faint clink of a belt, followed by the soft sounds of fabric hitting the floor. You opened your eyes when the mattress dipped, revealing a very naked Joel Miller.

This took you by surprise more than anything else. You never thought that Joel would take his clothes off for you, and you wouldn’t have asked him to—he’d done it of his own volition. He wanted to bare himself to you like you had to him.

Plus, he was hot. You would have been attracted to him no matter what, but he was so undeniably sexy. His arms looked like they were carved from marble. He was broad and strong, but still had a wonderfully human softness about him. And his cock. Your mouth salivated at the sight. It was thick and long and beautiful. You wanted to drag your tongue along the vein that ran down his shaft and taste the leaking precum at the tip.

“You done starin’?” Joel asked, blushing at the way you were blatantly ogling him.

You giggled and climbed into his lap, your knees settling on either side of his hips. “Stop being so pretty if you don’t want me to stare.”

Joel let out a genuine, light-hearted laugh—something you’d only witnessed him do a handful of times. You wanted to bottle the sound and keep it forever. “I’m pretty, am I?”

“So pretty.” You leaned forward and kissed him, painfully aware of his hard cock pressed against your inner thigh.

You reached down and wrapped a hand around his length, teasing the slit with your thumb and spreading the dribbling fluid. You pumped him a few times, noticing the way his belly tightened as he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re so good, sweetheart," he spoke with a low, sultry tone, "but I really need to fuck you now.”

Joel had you pinned under him in a second, hiking your legs up around his hips while his cock bumped your entrance.

“Ready?” Joel asked.

You nodded eagerly and repeated what you told him earlier, “I need you.”

Joel lined the head of his cock up with your wet heat, stroking it through your folds and teasing your sensitive clit. He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on your lips as he finally pushed into you.

The stretch stung even with how wet you were. You dug your nails into his back and tried not to wince, all while Joel planted comforting kisses around your face.

“It’ll feel good in a second, baby,” he whispered against your cheek. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you assured him. “Don’t stop.”

He paused when he was buried to the hilt, giving you a moment to adjust. You weren’t completely inexperienced, but the sheer size of Joel was a lot to take.

But it wasn't long before the sting started to morph into pleasure. You felt keyed up and desperate and so incredibly full. “You can move now.”

His hands settled on your thighs as he pulled his cock out and slowly pushed it back in. Your walls fluttered around him, spurring him on. He did it again, this time plunging it harder and faster.

You gasped at the feeling, gushing around his cock and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer. He set a steady, delicious pace, pounding into you the way you hadn't even known you'd been craving.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. Shit. So good. So fuckin' perfect.”

You moaned at his slurry of praise, angling your hips up so he reached even deeper. You ran a hand over his back and down to his plush ass, giving it a firm squeeze. Joel chuckled fondly and traced affectionate nibbles along your jaw.

It hit you all at once that you had never been this happy before. Having Joel in your arms, buried inside you, giving you everything he could was beyond euphoric. You didn't know if you would ever feel this good again.

And suddenly, he stopped. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Fuck. You were crying. “Nothing. Just don’t stop.”

“I need you to talk to me, sweetheart.” He made a move to pull out, but you panicked and tightened your legs around his waist to hold him there.

“It’s nothing bad. I just can’t believe this is happening,” you told him. Warm, pearly tears leaked from the corners of your eyes, but you smiled in spite of yourself. “It feels so good, and I’m just…really happy it's you.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel cooed, kissing your tear-stained temples. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? So fuckin’ sweet. Gonna keep you forever, baby. Don’t worry.”

His mouth caught yours in a kiss that was both fervent and impossibly romantic. He tongue slipped past your lips, licking into your mouth with a tender intensity that had you mewling.

Joel resumed thrusting into you. His pace was slower, but his cock was hitting deeper. The warmth in your belly was quickly turning into a burning fire—a fire you wanted to keep on raging.

You were so close, and you knew Joel would never come before you did, but you were determined to hold out; to hold onto this rapturous intimacy as long as you could.

“It’s okay,” Joel said, as if he was reading your mind. “You’re okay.”

You couldn't stop it. Your walls tightened like a vice. You arched and trembled and clawed at Joel, muttering broken curses as he fucked you through your orgasm.

His hips faltered, his thrusts lost their rhythm, and you knew he was about to come. He probably needed to pull out. You probably needed to tell him to. But he just kept plunging his cock into you, and you kept letting him. His eyes were dark and pleading—he was begging you to let this happen.

You wanted him to do it. “Please, Joel.”

He growled a deep, rumbling ‘fuuuuck,' cock twitching and painting your walls with thick ropes of come.

He let out a contented sigh once he recovered and collapsed on top of you, burying his head in the crook of your neck while your fingers sifted through his damp hair.

This would be over soon. Before Joel could give in to his exhaustion and fall asleep on top of you, he would remember where he was: in a decaying cabin at the end of the world with two people who needed him. Soon enough, he would stand up, dress himself, and go back to keeping watch.

You wished you could have this with him all the time. You wished you could fall asleep with him, wake up with him, and spend your days together with some semblance of peace. You didn’t want much, but you wanted that.

“Was that your first time?”

The thought only occurred to Joel when everything was said and done and he was cleaning you up. It made sense—you were young when the outbreak happened, you’d been relatively alone until you met him and Tess, and he could tell by the way your body reacted to him that it wasn’t used to such an intrusion.

“No, but it felt like it,” you replied. “It’s the first time I’ve ever wanted to.”

Joel’s heart plummeted into his stomach. His mouth went dry, his jaw clicked the way it did when he was enraged, and he felt just about ready to kill someone.

“Not like that, Joel,” you said quickly. “I agreed to it. It was...I didn’t have anything else to trade.”

Joel was destroyed, but it wasn’t even a shocking revelation. He didn’t judge you for it—he’d turned to a lot worse in the name of survival—it just made him feel sick that you were ever in that position. You deserved to be cherished and taken care of, not used and discarded.

“Do you still do that?” He almost wanted to ask if you’d ever done it for his or Tess’s benefit, but he feared the answer would crush him.

“No. Not for years,” you replied. “It wasn’t that bad, honestly. It was only a couple of times.”

That’s still bad.

Joel held you close, stroking your hair and kissing your lovely face. Maybe it was because you had told him all of that while you were both still naked, but he felt like he needed to remind you that he adored your body, as well as the soul it carried.

He also felt like he needed to apologise. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“What for?”

“Just…everything. I hate the way I treated you.”

“I already forgave you, Joel.”

Your words should have been a relief, but they felt like a hot knife piercing right into his chest. “Why?”

“You apologised, and you changed.”

“And that’s enough?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because I hurt you. I made you feel like you shouldn’t be here.” His throat ached as he swallowed down the emotion rising in him. He didn't want to sound as devastated as he felt, because he knew you would comfort him if he did, and this wasn’t about him.

“You didn’t make me feel like that, Joel,” you spoke with gentle reassurance. “I felt that way for a long time. Before I met you.”

“Okay, but I didn’t help.”

“No, you didn’t, but that’s over now. I don’t want to keep harping on it.”

“What do you want?” Joel asked. It was a heavy question, and one you hadn’t considered in so long—he knew that because he hadn’t either.

You snuggled into him, so cute and cosy it made him ache. “Just this. Can we have this?”

Truthfully, Joel was terrified, and he knew it wasn’t going to stop. He used to think that having you close like this would make it harder, but there was a strange sense of relief in having this with you. He didn’t have to worry from afar anymore. He could hold onto you, and look after you. He had you right there with him.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Joel laid with you until you fell asleep. He wanted to stay like that all night, sleeping with you curled up in his arms. He hoped that one day he would get to.

Right now, he needed to keep watch.

a/n: im so awkward about writing smut so if that came across while reading pls forgive me. im overall pretty happy with how this turned out. i might write some drabbles about this relationship down the road, but im leaving these two here for now. thanks for reading! p.s. in order to stay true to part one, im sick again posting this. (why do i keep getting sick??)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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sunsburns · 7 hours

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kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants.

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision.

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered.

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost.

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly.

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words.

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses.

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own.

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

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sunflowerabyss · 5 months

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Charms of Fate: Chapter 1

Paring: Remus Lupin x Fem!Professor!Reader

Series Masterlist

Plot: Amidst the echoes of a bygone era, you return to Hogwarts years after parting ways with Hogwarts. What begins as a journey fueled by nostalgia transforms into an unexpected reunion with Remus Lupin, now a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As the past intertwines with the present, the two former classmates navigate the complexities of grief, the resurgence of friendship, and the unwritten chapters of their shared history in this tale of rediscovery and the magic that binds them together.

Warnings: mention of character death

A/N: Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of Charms of Fate! This is the first fanfiction I have written in a bajillion years. So here is my current obsession--Remus Lupin.

__________________________________________________________

You stepped onto the train, finding an empty cabin before placing your bags in the compartment above the seats. Huffing, you sat down, pulling out the wrinkled letter you had received only a short month ago. Dumbledore's neat cursive stared back at you in green ink and you fondly remember your first letter from Hogwarts. You smiled sadly as your mind began to drift to the days of your youth.

It was the spring of 1978, and the air at Hogwarts was tinged with the scent of blooming flowers and the bittersweet realization that it was the last day you would walk these halls clad in your Gryffindor robes. You and Lily Evans, the uncommonly kind girl you grew close with over the years, joined her boyfriend James, and his friends Sirius, Peter, and Remus in celebrating the end of your magical journey.

The Great Hall was adorned with festive decorations as laughter and joy echoed through its grandeur. Remus Lupin, the quiet and thoughtful member of the Marauders, caught your eye more often than not. Throughout the last year, you and Remus had gravitated towards each other, drawn together by shared interests and a subtle understanding that words couldn't quite capture.

As the day unfolded, you and Remus found yourselves in moments of quiet conversation, away from the boisterous pranks and laughter of the others. His brown eyes held a warmth that mirrored the budding spring outside, and his words carried a depth that resonated with you on a profound level.

When the time came to say your goodbyes, you exchanged promises to keep in touch. But, as life often does, it threw you and Remus onto different paths. Owl-post became infrequent, and the ties that once bound you to the magical camaraderie of Hogwarts began to loosen.

Years passed, and the connection with Remus faded into the echoes of memories. Life unfolded with its trials and tribulations, and the once-prominent figure of Remus Lupin became a distant echo from the past.

As you reflect on that last day at Hogwarts, you wonder where life took Remus and if the paths that once intersected would ever cross again. The nostalgia of youthful friendships mingles with the ache of time's passage, leaving you with a lingering sense of loss and a yearning for the connection that slipped through your fingers after that bittersweet graduation day.

The vibrant memories of Lily and James' wedding lingered in your mind—the joyous celebration, the laughter, and the shared happiness as you stood by your best friend on her special day. The joy only multiplied when Lily announced her pregnancy, and you were there, witnessing the excitement in their eyes as they shared the news.

The day Harry was born brought tears of happiness to your eyes as you cradled the small bundle of joy. Little did you know that those precious moments would soon be overshadowed by the darkness that would shroud the wizarding world.

Halloween 1981, the news of Lily and James Potter's tragic demise, and Sirius Black's descent into Azkaban sent shockwaves through your body. Your dearest friends, gone. The memories of joy turned into haunting echoes of grief, leaving you lost and depressed.

Desperate for a connection, you tried to reach out to Remus, penning letters that poured out your heartache and longing for solace. Yet, as time passed, and the owls returned without a reply, you gave up hope, feeling the weight of isolation settle over you like a heavy cloak.

In an attempt to escape the suffocating darkness, you found employment in the Ministry of Magic. Modifying memories and undoing magical damage became a temporary refuge, a way to numb the pain that seemed insurmountable.

Life took an unexpected turn when an owl arrived with a letter from Dumbledore, offering you the position of Charms professor at Hogwarts. The prospect of returning to the place where memories were both joyful and painful filled you with mixed emotions. Hesitantly, you accepted the position, leaving behind your job at the Ministry of Magic for a chance to share your knowledge with a new generation.

As the train began to move, you were glad for some solitude in your cab, relieved you didn't have to make small talk. The Hogwarts Express rumbled along the tracks, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels providing a comforting backdrop as you read Dumbledore's letter for the umpteenth time:

"Dearest (Y/N),

I trust this owl finds you well. It is with great pleasure and anticipation that I extend an invitation for you to join the esteemed faculty at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Flitwick, our longtime Charms instructor, has chosen to retire early, and your name emerged as a fitting successor.

Your expertise and dedication to the magical arts have not gone unnoticed. I believe your return to Hogwarts will enrich the academic environment and inspire the next generation of witches and wizards. The position is yours should you choose to accept, and I look forward to welcoming you back to the castle.

Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

You sighed, folding the letter before shoving it into your coat pocket. You leaned your head against the window, watching the scenery go by. As the train journey unfolded, the nostalgic reverie was interrupted. Abruptly, the train jolted to a stop, jarring you from your reverie. You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering what could have caused the sudden halt. Peering out of the compartment window, you noticed the somber atmosphere that had settled over the train.

A hushed murmur passed through the train, and a shiver ran down your spine as an eerie chill filled the air. The familiar warmth of the Hogwarts Express seemed to dissipate, replaced by an unsettling stillness.

In the corridor, shadows flickered ominously, and the ambient hum of conversation turned into uneasy whispers. Your confusion deepened, a sense of foreboding settling over her. Unaware of the impending encounter with Dementors, you exchanged puzzled glances with fellow passengers.

The compartment door slid open, revealing a group of hooded figures moving purposefully down the corridor. The air grew heavy with despair, and you felt an unexplainable weight on your chest. The dim light in the compartment seemed to dim further, casting an eerie pallor over everything.

A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. However, you remember what you saw in the weekly newspaper, and you feel your stomach churn. The Ministry was looking for Sirius Black.

The chilling presence of Dementors filled the cabin, and your confusion gave way to a subtle dread. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figures glided past the compartment before leaving altogether. The inexplicable feeling of despair hung in the air, and you found yourself grappling with an emotion you couldn't put your finger on.

Peering through the compartment window, you caught sight of a man walking to the front of the train, obscured by shadows. A familiar chill ran down your spine, but you couldn't quite discern his identity.

As the train resumed its journey, the weight lifted, but the encounter lingered in your mind. The transient confusion had given way to a deeper awareness that the journey back to Hogwarts held more mysteries than you had initially anticipated.

The remainder of the journey was thankfully uneventful, and exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster led you to drift into a restless sleep. Just before fully surrendering to dreams, you heard the door to your compartment creak open slightly, a subtle intrusion that left you with a sense of curiosity.

You felt the train gradually slow down, pulling you from your slumber as it came to a halt. With a weary sigh, you gathered your belongings, the excitement of returning to Hogwarts now tinged with a layer of apprehension. As you stepped off the train, the castle loomed in the distance, its silhouette etched against the dark sky, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this return held more than just the promise of new beginnings.

Before you knew it, you were standing outside of the castle where you spent many of your adolescent years. Dumbledore welcomed you warmly, his blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. "Ah, (Y/N), my dear. It warms my heart to see you return to Hogwarts. Your presence is a boon to our magical community."

"It's good to be back headmaster," you replied, a genuine, but tired smile on your face.

Dumbledore gestured towards the castle. "Before we delve into matters, let me help you find your living quarters. It has been some time since your last stay, and the castle may seem like a labyrinth."

Grateful for the guidance, you followed Dumbledore through the bustling platform and into the castle. The familiarity of the stone walls and the shifting staircases stirred a cascade of memories.

Dumbledore led you through winding corridors and staircases until you arrived at a charming wooden door. "Here we are, (Y/N)," he announced. "Your living quarters for the foreseeable future. I trust you'll find them quite comfortable."

As you stepped inside, the room revealed itself to be a cozy haven, adorned with warm colors and inviting furniture. It felt like a sanctuary within the castle's magical embrace.

"Take your time settling in, (Y/N)," Dumbledore advised. "Once you're ready, please join me in my office. There are matters we must discuss."

With a nod of gratitude, you watched as Dumbledore left, the door closing gently behind him. Alone in the room, you took a moment to absorb the atmosphere. Hogwarts felt both familiar and different, as if the castle itself held the secrets of a thousand stories.

After gathering your thoughts and putting your things away with the flick of your wand, you made your way to Dumbledore's office, guided by the familiar twists and turns.

As you entered Dumbledore's office, your eyes were drawn to the man already seated in one of the chairs facing the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, acknowledged your presence.

"Ah, (Y/N), right on time. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the remaining chair across from the mysterious man.

As you approached, the man's head turned in your direction, and your breath caught as you met his gaze. It was Remus Lupin, his warm eyes holding a mixture of surprise and recognition.

"(Y/N)," Remus uttered, his voice a quiet revelation that resonated in the room.

"Remus," you replied, a mixture of astonishment and joy coloring your tone. The room seemed to hum with unspoken emotions as Dumbledore observed the reunion.

"I believe introductions are in order," Dumbledore began, his eyes twinkling knowingly. "Remus Lupin, allow me to introduce (Y/N) (L/N), our new Charms professor. And (Y/N), this is Remus Lupin, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Your eyes locked, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. It felt as though the years melted away, leaving only the echoes of your shared history.

"Quite the unexpected reunion, wouldn't you say?" Dumbledore remarked with a knowing smile, his gaze shifting between you and Remus.

Dumbledore leaned back in his high-backed chair, his fingers steepled beneath his bearded chin. The soft glow of the room's ambient light seemed to dance in his half-moon spectacles as he addressed the formalities.

"(Y/N), Remus, I trust that you both find your roles at Hogwarts both gratifying and challenging. The responsibilities that come with being educators are vast, but the rewards are immeasurable," Dumbledore began, his tone measured and grandfatherly.

"As our new Charms professor, (Y/N), I have every confidence that you will impart your extensive knowledge and passion for magic to our students. Your return is a welcomed addition to our academic family."

Turning his gaze to Remus, Dumbledore continued, "And Remus, my dear friend, I cannot express how pleased I am to have you back within these hallowed halls. Your dedication to the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is both admirable and much needed in these uncertain times."

You nodded appreciatively, the gravity of your role sinking in. Remus, too, inclined his head in acknowledgment of the responsibility entrusted to him.

"Now, as we embark on a new school year, I must emphasize the importance of unity among the staff. The challenges ahead will undoubtedly require cooperation and understanding. I trust that both of you will uphold the values that Hogwarts holds dear," Dumbledore concluded, his gaze shifting between you and Remus.

Dumbledore's gaze, though kind, became somber as he broached another topic. "There is one more matter we must discuss, one that may cast a shadow over the upcoming term. Sirius Black, a name that resonates through our world with both tragedy and mystery."

He paused, allowing the weight of the name to settle in the room. "(Y/N), Remus, though I am sure you have already heard, I must inform you that Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. The circumstances surrounding his imprisonment are murky, and the Ministry is fervently searching for him."

A heavy silence hung in the room, the mention of Sirius Black injecting an undercurrent of tension. "(Y/N), as a member of the Hogwarts staff, and Remus, given your history with him, I must ask you to exercise caution. The safety of our students is of the utmost importance." Remus nodded solemnly, his expression reflecting the complexities of emotions tied to his old friend.

Dumbledore, sensing the gravity of the discussion, allowed a soft smile to touch his lips. "Now, my dear professors, let us not let these dark times overshadow the joyous occasion of your return. We have much to celebrate and look forward to. I invite you both to the Great Hall for dinner. I shall be along in a few minutes."

You and Remus exchanged glances before standing up and shuffling out of the door. As they exited Dumbledore's office, the bustling sounds of students and the aroma of a delicious feast wafted through the air.

"Well, I must say, this a delightful surprise," Remus said, a warm smile on his face.

You glance up at the man who kept his gaze forward before replying, a small smile of your own settling across your lips, "It's been far too long."

As you both walked side by side towards the Great Hall, the echoes of shared memories and the gaps of time that separated you created a subtle tension in the air. You couldn't help but notice the height difference between you. Remus towered over you, his tall and lean frame drawing attention. His attire, while seemingly a bit outdated, exuded a timeless charm that suited him well. You observed the scars on his face, a feature that had always intrigued you. The origin of those scars remained a mystery. Yet rather than diminishing his charm, the scars seemed to enhance it, giving him an alluring and rugged quality.

"I've missed this place," Remus admitted, glancing around the familiar surroundings.

"So have I," you agreed, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips.

Remus looked like he wanted to say something, a question or perhaps a sentiment left unspoken for too long.

Yet, after a moment of contemplation, he chose not to voice whatever was on his mind. The unspoken words lingered, leaving a trace of curiosity in the air, but Remus simply offered you a small, reassuring smile. The awkwardness of the silence melted away as the doors to the Great Hall swung open.

As the grand entrance of the Great Hall loomed before you both, Remus, ever the gentleman, gestured with a slight bow, indicating for you to go in first. A faint smile played on his lips, and his hand gently touched the small of your back as you stepped through the massive doors.

The contact was subtle, a genteel gesture that spoke volumes. The warmth of Remus's touch sent a cascade of emotions through you—nostalgia, familiarity, and perhaps something more.

The Great Hall greeted you with its radiant glow, its enchanted ceiling mirroring the starry sky. The tables were laden with delicious dishes, and the murmur of animated conversations echoed in the cavernous space.

Remus followed closely behind, his presence a comforting anchor. The touch on your lower back lingered just long enough to create a lingering sensation, leaving you in a state of gentle bewilderment. It was as if the touch carried the weight of unspoken words, a silent acknowledgment of the shared journey that had brought you back to Hogwarts.

As you both found your seats at the professor's table, the emotions stirred by that fleeting touch lingered, adding a layer of complexity to the reunion. The unspoken connection between you and Remus seemed to dance in the air, an undercurrent that wove through the fabric of the magical atmosphere. Dumbledore opened with a welcoming speech, introducing you and Remus as the new Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, to which you both shyly stood and waved. As the feast unfolded, the feeling of that small, tender touch lingered, leaving you with a sense of warmth and anticipation that awaited the new school year.

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #the marauders #marauders #sirius black #harry potter #hogwarts #hermione granger #ron weasley #jk rowling #older!remus lupin #older!remus lupin x reader

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blueiskewl · 4 months

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Lost and Found: Bottle Hunter Digs Extraordinary Farmland Treasures

Tom Askjem is a time traveler. Every May to November, he disappears into the bowels of the earth, descends to depths of 13’-plus, and returns to the surface with treasure—bottles and glassware from farming’s past.

After 1,800 pits and hundreds of thousands of relics, Askjem is equal parts archeologist, thrill seeker, and mole. Muscle on dirt, the North Dakota farm boy has turned an addiction into a career, multiple books, and a captivating YouTube channel with millions of views. However, Askjem seeks more than glass.

“I’m digging for adventure, history, and love,” he says. The past is in these holes and there are countless numbers of them across farmland.”

Time to hunt with a master.

The Infection

On the flats of extreme eastern North Dakota’s Traill County, Askjem, 32, prepares for a dig trip. “No mountains and no hills in the Red River Valley,” he describes. “You can see your dog run away for days. The land is mostly featureless, other than a few big cottonwoods and shelter belts where farms used to be.”

A mop of blonde hair sits atop a 6’-tall, lanky frame as Askjem saddles his pony—a Honda Civic. At the current mileage rate, the Civic will be junkyard fodder before it has a scratch: 60,000 backroad miles added to the odometer in the past six months.

Askjem piles layers of gear into the trunk, including three of each tool for insurance: shovels, pronged garden forks, trampoline pads, probe rods, buckets, plastic scoopers, trowels, tents, sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, air mattresses, clothes, and waterproof, Redwing leather work boots.

“It never gets old,” he says, wearing a wide grin. “I caught the infection when I was a kid.”

Digging Bodies

Pushed from the Grand Forks area by the historic Red River flood of 1997, Askjem moved to a farm outside Buxton at six years young. The main property was an 1878 homestead—a progression from sod house to log cabin to the present standing 1898 farmhouse decked in Victorian-era woodwork and hardware.

Surrounded by history, including the skeletons of old wagons and rusting machinery, Askjem explored a 5-acre patch of woods on the property, and chanced on a garbage dump: pop bottles and trash.

Askjem dug.

“I went deep and found stuff going back to 1898. When you’re a kid living in the country, there’s no going down the street and there’s no hanging with friends to play video games—you make your own adventure. I started hitting up all the farmers I could find for leads.”

Behind the wheel of a rattling go-cart, Askjem sought Buxton old-timers and collected tips on abandoned houses. “They all helped me,” he says. “Nobody cared where I hunted because I was just a little kid exploring for all the right reasons.”

“I’ve still got an elementary school journal with an assignment describing my weekend,” he adds. “I wrote, ‘Me and Mom dug up old bodies.’ The teacher marked my paper out of concern,” Askjem describes, with an easy, deep chuckle. “I meant to spell bottles, not bodies. But it shows I was truly hooked.”

Indeed. Wonderfully hooked.

Soft Landing

Why are bottles buried under farmland and old house sites?

Prior to plastic and synthetics, glassware held everything: medicine, hygiene products, alcohol, soda, and beyond. Glass was it.

Additionally, prior to waste disposal services, homeowners discarded trash on-site—in back yard outhouses, trash depressions, burn pits, and wells or cisterns. In short time, the various ground receptacle spots were filled and forgotten.

“Let’s say, for example, a family moved in around 1880,” Askjem explains. “That site likely has two or three outhouse locations prior to World War l. The outhouse spots filled up at a rate according to family size. I dug one farmhouse site that had six outhouses in a 10-year span. Folks went into the outhouses and threw away bottles: medicine, opiates, beer, whiskey. It was convenient and private, and had a soft landing, and got covered quickly. Even now, the bottles often are still preserved.”

“Generally, these houses also had a burn pit and/or dump pit. In the early days, they burned all trash in the stove for heat. Also, homestead bucket wells were filled up with trash and bottles once they were replaced by pump wells. Cisterns also were eventually filled up, but most of those are associated with houses in town.”

And the sites remain, he emphasizes, hiding intact relics beyond the reach of farm machinery or tillage equipment.

X Marks the Spot

Location. Location. Location. Other than a tip or invitation, how does Askjem find dig sites?

X marks the spot, at least in the county courthouse or public library. He spends winters poring over early property transaction documents. “I look at lot sales. If several lots sold for $100 each in 1880, but one sold for $1,000 in 1885, the price climb tells the story and likely represents a building location.”

“I also read old newspaper archives, looking for hotel or business advertisements,” Askjem continues. “Then I can look up the proprietor’s name and keep tightening the scope, narrowing down the exact building location.”

“Every single house is different, but generally, in the countryside, outhouses were 30 paces out the back door. In the city, where most lots were 140’ long, outhouses could be as close as 5-10 paces.”

Confident of a site’s potential, Askjem first asks for permission to dig from the landowner. “Property owners are always so kind to me and I don’t hide anything I find. They’re curious about what is in the ground, just like anybody else.”

Second, he grids out the site. “I put down markers 2 paces apart, maybe 20 paces long. I push probe rods into ground and feel for compaction differences. Depending on the location, I’ll call in and have utility lines marked out for power and gas.”

Decked in Levi’s and a tank-top, it’s time to tunnel.

Claustrophobic Comfort

Shovel in hand, Askjem descends into a layer cake of dirt: black topsoil to brown-colored clay to telltale ash to a use layer containing treasure.

“Generally, I go deep to find old items in quantity. The earliest bottles were used to the last drop by farmers and thrown out empty. Therefore, when they froze in brutal Dakota winters, the glass didn’t break from liquid expansion.”

As Askjem extracts glass vessels from the dirt and grime, his encyclopedic knowledge registers with each find. He recognizes the type, manufacturer, and age. Ink bottles, hygiene bottles, medicine bottles, beer bottles, soda bottles—and far more spill from the holes.

“I find patented medicine bottles across the country, but my favorite are soda bottles because they are unique to their locale and have character. The old soda bottles are usually marked with the bottler and town name because they were returnable.”

The outhouse pits are typically 6’-deep at home sites, with an average size of 6’-by-4’-by-3’. “I’ve dug ghost towns, dug saloons, train depots, and pool halls that were 12’ long, 4’ wide, and 8’ deep. I remember a hotel pit that was 20’-by-20’ and 8’ deep. There was a military fort with pits behind the barracks that was 12’ long, 4’ wide, and 13.5’ deep: That was a week’s worth of digging.”

Askjem’s subterranean realm provides no comfort to the claustrophobic. At 8’-9’, he braces the holes with woodwork. “I’m in a solid clay base that doesn’t cave, but I have a healthy respect for the ground’s limitation. Sometimes, it looks like I’m digging a rabbit hole.”

Preserved in nature’s freezer, the artifacts unearthed by Askjem often are in phenomenal condition.

“Pieces of newspaper can still be read; bottle labels are legible; white lime used in decomposition is visible; and undigested seeds are everywhere. Even 120-year-old human waste sometimes is perfectly preserved and still smells like hell. I wear a hydrogen sulfide respirator in those cases.”

“It’s all there; almost like it was dropped yesterday.”

Ghosts in the Ground

In 2022, Askjem began chronicling his digs via a YouTube channel, Below the Plains, and soon captured millions of views. At two posts per week, he gins footage at a steady rate to feed the algorithm, a tough task considering the ground in his geography is frozen from mid-November to mid-May.

Additionally, Askjem has written two in-depth books (Nebraska Soda Bottles 1865-1930 and A History of North Dakota Bottling Operations 1879-1930) and has more on the way. “I put the bottle prices in the books because they can sell for a whole lot and I always tell the landowners. Listing prices draw criticism, but that’s important to me because it helps preserve the item, and preservation of history is what drives me.”

Covered in dust or mud at the end of each day in digging season, Askjem is highly respectful of what he finds—almost reverent after 1,800 digs. “I appreciate everything I uncover because it represents a part of someone’s daily life and existence. There’s nothing wrong with coveting bottles, but I’m really in those holes for the moment of discovery.”

Even when not digging, Askjem is on the move, surfing on the coasts or river diving for lost cargo. In the decades to come, will he continue burrowing into the past? “Twenty years from now, I hope I’m still digging and there’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now.”

“There’s not an infinite amount of lost bottle sites, but there’s certainly an incredibly high number,” he continues. “There were 300,000 homestead farms in North Dakota with a minimum of one well, one outhouse, and one trash dump. And that doesn’t include towns where most of the population lived. There are millions of these sites in North Dakota and far more in other states.”

Respect to a freewheeling hunter like no other. Bottles draw the eye, but ghosts draw the heart: “The moment never gets old when you uncover a bottle and find that history,” Askjem adds. “Never.”

By CHRIS BENNETT.

#Lost and Found: Bottle Hunter Digs Extraordinary Farmland Treasures #Tom Askjem #glass #glass bottles #ancient glass #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #ancient history #history news #treasure #treasure hunter #antiques #bottle hunter #long post #long reads

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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

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COMMISSION: TW - SDR2 Boys Stop You from Committing Suicide (comfort endings)

Some scenarios take place during the DR3//No Despair era at Hope’s Peak and some during the SDR2 island killing game. SDR2 SPOILERS INCLUDED

Word Count: 10K Words

TRIGGER Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THESE TYPES OF SCENARIOS. All sections are angst or depressing but end with the character comforting or saving the reader and the reader’s plan isn’t successful. Self-harm and plans of suicide are discussed and detailed. Situations and objects like drowning, pills, guns, knives, poor mental health, and more are included. PLEASE KEEP IN MIND DANGANRONPA IS RATED M for 17+ and canonically includes themes of murder and suicide. You are responsible for the media you consume. Keep reading below with these warnings in mind if you so choose.

Hajime Hinata

It’d been days without food and you felt like you were officially going crazy. Apparently it wasn’t enough that you’d been forced to see your classmates die in the most painful, cruel ways, betray each other, lie, and scheme, now you had to starve on top of it all? You couldn’t take it anymore: the dryness of your mouth, the grumbling of your stomach. One thing right after another, days turned into weeks of misery, of despair even. But that was Monokuma’s goal all along. You barely ever left your cabin these days, fearing you’d see the worst side of one of your classmates in the form of a swift knife to the back as soon as you stepped out. You barely trusted anyone other than your best friend Hajime anymore. It was so hard to, when you’d trusted Mikan, the meek nurse, Peko, the intelligent and disciplined swordswoman, Nagito, the chill dude putting up an entire act to hide his craziness. Your cabin was always locked with you inside. You hated leaving, and now you were stuck in this damned funhouse, tricked here by that monsterous bear. You felt delirious: mental health declining, hands shaking, mind drifting.

You looked around your room - one of the average rooms in the funhouse’s living quarters - dimly lit like some villain’s secret hidden cave. Scattered around the floor were weapons you’d obtained as a reward for clearing the Final Dead Room, along with scraps of paper lined with scrawled plans and ideas. The ravings of a mad person it would likely seem to anyone else who viewed them.

Your plan seemed simple enough: Kill Nekomaru, make it obvious that it was you, get executed as the blackened and confess and insist, should it not be obvious enough. You wanted people to witness, to be convinced it was you so you could leave this wretched island forever. You felt like you were taking the coward’s way out, but you just couldn’t push yourself to do the job on your own. Maybe you were a coward, but you just wanted out, as soon as possible.

The plan was to make it as painless as as possible for the robot, if he even felt pain. That’s why you chose him as the victim in the first place. Honestly, it was adding to your rapidly plummeting downward mental spiral, the way your peers were treating Nekomaru. It was driving you fucking crazy. They acted as if it was just… normal. None of this was normal. Nekomaru was your friend, flesh and blood, and now he was just this… thing, this metal abomination. It’s not him in there, you’d repeat over and over like a mantra in your head when you saw the bot. It was disrespectful to his memory. Were you the only sane one here, side-eyeing the bot, avoiding him out of discomfort? You found yourself asking: If they uploaded an AI of my personality into a computer, is that me?

No.

It’s not. You all should have just accepted that the real Nekomaru was gone forever. It would be merciful to kill his replacement instead of a real human. It’s wouldn’t even be an actual murder, no guilt on your conscience. Monokuma wouldn’t see it that way though, and that’s all that mattered.

“(Y/N)?” You are shaken out of your mindless planning, sucked out of your thoughts by a knock at your door. Hajime. You recognized his voice and panicked at the state of the room around you. Hajime was a dear, always doing rounds to check on his friends, especially in this particularly stressful situation. As you and he were a closer as friends, he tended to check on you a little more often. You ignored his knocks, sent into an frenzy as you started kicking papers under the bed and hiding as many weapons as you can. You hear the handle jiggle and the door opens quickly behind you. Hajime spared no time when he’d gotten no reply from you. He’d lost too many to take his time anymore. A second too late could mean death for a friend, as he’d learned. You could’ve been dead, passed out from hunger, injured.

He freezes as you turn to face him like a deer in headlights, taking in the insane scene before him. He was definitely looking at the pile of weapons scattered everywhere - definitely noticing how unhinged you looked - and immediately begins questioning you, closing your door behind him for some privacy. It’s when you start stuttering, sputtering out excuses and deflecting that he truly takes in your mental state. You look completely deshelved and unwell, worse than everyone else though you were all starving and on edge.

“Where did you even get all of these?!” He gestures to the murder tools in desperation, just wanting an honest answer from someone he actually trusted. When you reveal the existence of the Octagon beyond the Final Dead Room, he presses you further: “Well what were you planning to do with all of them?” He is apprehensive of your answer. Seeing the genuine look in his eyes that seemed ever-present, you broke down, sighing deeply. You run your hand down your face, defeated,exposed. He sees you visibly sink into yourself as you prepare to finally give it to him straight.

“Look, Hajime, you and I have always been honest with each other. You’re one of the few here I can truly trust so I’m just going to admit what’s going on here… I feel like I owe you that much. I’m not proud of this but…” You hesitate, feeling like finding conviction in your words was an insurmountable task. Your bottom lip began to quiver. You’d held these plans confidently inside your head, but you’d yet to acknowledge them aloud. “... I was going to take a life tonight… I was going to make myself the blackened and then confess, taking someone with me…” Your voice breaks, ashamed of your words.

The room goes quite for a while, as Hajime just stares at you, thinking, not sure what to even say. He hadn’t expected you to be so blunt, though his assumptions were confirmed. You can see his chest heaving in the silence, hearing only and his loud exhales. You’d seen Hajime carry your class through trial after trial, seen him peice together complex evidence. He wasn’t stupid. He inferred in his mind as he stared that your target would be Nekomaru. You see the gears turning in his head. It made sense, as you loved hanging around the boisterous team manager before his transformation, and after… you seemed to avoid him like an ex at a party. He knows… but he doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to have this difficult conversation.

Slowly, so gently, he simply sinks down to your level as you sit there resting on your shins on the ground. He pushes some of the mess aside, looking you in the eyes before wrapping his arms around your starving body. You let him, not moving an inch, taking in his warmth. Maybe this is what was intended for you, maybe you needed only to hear his next words:

“You’re not going to do this, okay?” You feel him nodding, his chin tucked into your shoulder. “I’m going to be here for you, so I need you to be here for me too, right?” Hajime wasn’t always the best at comforting others in his own opinion, but you knew he was trying his best. Rather, others would say he was good at comforting his friends, but he felt awkward while doing so, like he wasn’t built for mushy moments. “We’ll escape this together: you, me, and everybody else. You have to keep trying for them, too. You can’t do that if you’re dead, right?” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood as the stress rolls down his brow in the form of sweat. He felt like cringing at his own words, wondering if he was helping at all. “If you do this, Monokuma wins, and I sure as hell know that you don’t want that. You’re needed here and wanted here, and I know you’re stronger than this.” He feels his shoulder become soaked as your silent tears roll down your face and through his shirt. “H-hey, can I stay here tonight, with you?” He was asking, but you were going to have to physically remove him if you said no.

Nagito Komaeda

You’d been staring down at the knife in your shaking hands for what felt like an hour. In reality, it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. The blade was long, sharp, gleaming silver. How easy it would be to just… end it. You hesitated, thinking about the pain. How much would it hurt, based on the location of insertion? What was the quickest method to just get it over with?

You sighed. You’d miss playing games all night with Chiaki to avoid thinking about more dismal matters. You’d miss discussing true crime with Sonia, late night snack runs with Akane - whom you always felt safe with. Most of all though, you’d miss Nagito, who you’d developed quite the friendship with. His complex thought process and quirky personality fascinated you, and it was never a boring time when he was around. He seemed to like being a loner, always planning or deep inside his own head, but he didn’t seem to mind when you tagged along. In fact, he sometimes remarked that he didn’t deserve your company, and complimented you skills as an Ultimate student. You’d miss knowing someone as unique as him and having them actually enjoy your friendship.

The room around you made you shiver. The ambiance was so cold and hostile. Now past the Final Dead Room, you’d found yourself rewarded by stepping into the Octogon, a hidden room just beyond. Honestly, if you hadn’t picked up better problem-solving skills through trials and the help of your more intelligent friends like Nagito and Hajime, you may have never completed the Final Dead Room. The Octogon, different from the escape room before it, seemed to be a bunker, a weapons cache filled wall to grey wall with deadly tools of every kind. There was even a fridge that contained lethal poisons. When Monokuma described a reward for passing the Final Dead Room, you’d expected a secret passage out of the funhouse, or maybe some food at least. You should’ve known better.

Tearing your eyes away from the knife, you are startled as the door back to the Final Dead Room behind you bursts open. Nagito Komaeda of all people stumbles into the Octogon, his usual casual lanky form slinking in. His expression was carefree, that standard stoner-adjacent look glazed over his face… as if he didn’t just complete a deadly game of Russian roulette to get here.

“Nagito?! What are you doing here?” You panicked, not expected to be walked in on in this vulnerable state.

“I could ask you the same thing, (Y/N)...” He smiled mischeviously. “I followed you here, of course!” Oh yeah, of course! Why hadn’t you thought of that? “Couldn’t let you have all the fun! To my surprise, when I tried to enter the Final Dead Room behind you, Monokuma stopped me and said I had to finish when you were done. Everyone’s expected to take on the Dead Room on their own, apparently.” He held his hands up and shrugged. “So, after I passed the Final Dead Room, Monomi confirmed that you were through the door at the end.” He sighed. “What a pain to have her in there as a distraction though. I was hoping to catch up with you immediately. Oh well…” You stood stock still, the knife still in hand, so unsure of what to do. How was he always so nonchalant? “So this is what Monokuma’s been hiding back here, huh?” He looked around, taking in the myriad of weapons like they were nothing of note. Then his gaze trailed back to you, scanning you up and down. “By the way, why are you holding that knife like that?”

You suddenly feel extreme embarrassment run up your spine, your skin heating up. Your lack of words tells Nagito everything he needs to know. He was highly astute and intuitive, and you could see him analyzing the emotions laid bare all over you face. Nagito was always a step ahead. You could see it every time you were with him, from playing a simple card game in your cabin, to the seriousness of a class trial. It was near impossible to get one over on him. You feel sweat run down your forehead as you realize he’s figured you out. You’re too kind-hearted to kill someone else, and you’d confided in him at length about your ongoing poor mental state, how you couldn’t take this anymore and felt drained.

Over the many times you’d hung out with him, he’d grown to care about you enough to stop this path you were going down, and sensed the potential for a great wellspring of hope to burst forth from inside of you. He saw you as worth saving, and found himself genuinely caring about your fate, so slowly, he approached you, reaching out for the knife in your hand. When you don’t resist, he coaxes it out of your grip and quickly moves to distract you.

“Huh, that’s weird. Wonder where that window leads…” Gesturing over your shoulder, he leads you over to the very small square window, the only window in the entire room in fact. He hopes silently that the embarrassment of being caught and the knowledge that he’s watching you is is enough to stop you from attempting in the future.

It was now well into the night, and your new plan was in motion. This time you’d move at night while Nagito was sound asleep in his luxury sound-proofed room. Everything was seeming to fall into place.

It was already established and agreed upon that Grape Tower and Strawberry Tower were the same location with Chiaki’s eHandbook test. It was still debated amongst your peers just how they could be the same room or how the elevators worked, but now you and Nagito knew better. The window in the Octogon had revealed to only you two what the true secret of the funhouse was. The two towers were one big column, and the floor shifted up and down like an elevator. Your plan was solidified as soon as you realized this fact. A fall might hurt far less than a slow bleed-out. It could be instant death if you did it right.

You’d made a deal with Kazuichi, the Ultimate Mechanic. He trusted you enough to let you keep it vague, and his hunger exhuastion certainly helped with him not giving a fuck about your reasoning. You all knew that the doors to Grape and Strawberry Tower couldn’t be opened at the same time. Everyone assumed it was so that they appeared to be different places to trick you all, but now, you and Nagito knew it was so the floor of the towers could move up or down, concealing the risk of a fall. You simply asked Kazuichi if he could disable this function in the doors so that both tower doors could be open at any time. He was tiny bit hesitant at frist, but nearly started drooling when you showed him a huge toolbox you’d allow him to keep if he used it to do what you asked. It was so very tempting, but led him to worry about where you obtained this treasure in the first place, and if Monokuma would be upset about him meddling with the doors. You alleviated his fears by assuring him that there were no rules against it in the eHandbook and that you’d take the heat if Monokuma got mad. While he paced, you pushed him, stating that the offer was quickly expiring along with the precious toolbox. In the end, he just couldn’t resist those new toys, especially when trapped in the monotony and starvation in the funhouse.

So now here you stood, looking down at the perilous drop from the high-up door to Strawberry Tower onto the floor of Grape Tower. You felt empty inside, both literally and emotionally as you hadn’t eaten in days. There was a hollow, grim feeling to the neon tower at night, something uncanny. Unlike the knife, once you lept, that was it. It would be freefalling, out of your hands. It might even feel like a relief. There was no pushing a blade in further, this would be much easier. You’d left a note in your room stating it was suicide, and trusted your closer friends to confirm your handwriting. Hopefully they didn’t think it was some trick by a real blackened.

Your heart was racing, blood pounding in your ear. You take a deep inhale, and hold your breath. Closing your eyes, you step a single foot out over the ledge to the fatal fall.

Silently and sudden as a gust of wind, a lithe pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you back. The movement is desperate, sudden and jarring. You gasp and stumble back, falling on top of your rescuer with a thud. Nagito groans beneath you with the force, knocked over with your weight. You knew it was him, by the voice, the smell, the paleness of the arms clasped in a vice-like grip around your waist.

You both say nothing for a while as the severity of the situation sinks in. Suddenly, like a tsunami, a wave of emotions hit you, and you begin to sob at the reality of what you were about to just do. Your chest hurts and your tears flow freely down your face and onto Nagito below you, spattering onto his skin. You want to yell out, to scream What was I thinking?!, to curse yourself. He squeezes you once, as if to say:

You don’t need to say a thing…

“It’s a good thing I happened to be out for a walk, huh?” He speaks after a long while, letting you calm down. He continues his deflection: “Looked like you were about to slip!” He clears his throat and begins to run one bony hand through your hair to comfort you, allowing you to lay there on his chest for just a little longer.

Nekomaru Nidai

There was a simple beauty to the warm, sunny beach out behind the diner on the second island. The sand was soft and the water always looked serene. Usually, you’d come with friends and swim or have a little picnic, but today you were there alone, and for much less pleasant reasons. The beaming sun and tropical scenery stood in stark contrast to the dark clouds inside your mind.

You were floating out in the middle of the water, pondering. It was all too much. Something was so off: this island, the killing game, even your classmates at times. Nothing about this all felt real to you. You didn’t feel real, lost in your own head, a prisoner in your own body. It was bad enough you’d watched Togami and Teruteru die gruesomely, or that you’d just recently sent Fuyuhiko to the hospital after the deaths of Mahiru and Peko. It was traumatizing, and yet it felt so… unreal. And it would only continue. You were sure of that, despite the naive positivity of some of your classmates.

You wanted out, to just disappear without a trace. You felt hopeless and trapped each and every day on this maddening island. You hated the mocking feeling of being stuck in a killing game in a beautiful paradise like this, the irony. If everything went according to plan today, you’d successfully swim down as far as you possibly could, hold your breath, and when you couldn’t take it any longer, hopefully not have enough air to make it to the surface. Hopefully, you’d sink to the bottom of the ocean with a big gulp of water in your lungs. Maybe if your body was never found, there would be no trial. That was the only selfless part of this plan if you managed to pull it off: no trial, no work put on your classmates to solve it. After all, a body had to be found to start an investigation.

Without hesitation, you began your last journey, swimming straight downwards into the deep water, making sure to take a pathetic inhale beforehand to make this all go faster. Maybe, just maybe, you’d wake up on the other side, feeling real again. Once you reach the bottom, you sink into the sand bed and begin to pass the time by thinking of the few things you would miss about this island hellhole, the friends you’d made even though you seemed to lose another each week.

Your heart started to race as you thought about Chiaki letting you win in that first person shooter. Your lungs began to sting and you think of Ibuki and Sonia forcing you out of your comfort zone with new music, activities and movie genres. The sting turns into a burn, and you try to push back any second thoughts as Akane’s tough love and Nekomaru’s beaming smile come to mind. The tried their best to make you feel better, support you, uplift you. They actively put time into making you stronger, in both body and mind. The valued mental fortitude just as much as a healthy body. They made you feel seen, like your company was never a burden, like a big brother and sister. Their blunt honesty could be so refreshing.

Lost in your thoughts, you begin to feel it in your throat. It’s coming… You begin to gag, choke, drown. Struggling on instinct, you kick your feet and grasp at your chest. You look up to see the sun shine down through the water, and feel… sad. It was the last thing you’d expected to feel. You were sure you wanted this…

The last thing you see before your world goes dark is a large shadow swimming in your direction. The muffled sound of movement, an object rushing toward you is all you hear before you let yourself go.

Without warning, you’re conscious again. You have a feeling you’re not on the other side when you feel your back being slammed down onto the sand of the beach. There’s a pressure on your lungs, nearly bursting them and your eyes fly open in shock. Sputtering, you flip onto your side and spit out what feels like a gallon of salt water. You cough up a lung, so dazed that you nearly miss the large shadow completely eclipsing the sun, looming over you.

Nekomaru spoke, and the sheer volume of his deep voice startles you. You turn to face him and find that he looks sad, a rare expression for him. You’d seen him jolly, determined, angry even, but rarely sad. He looked… disappointed, on his knees right before you, so close. You hated that look on his face, even more knowing you caused it. After a long sigh, he began to speak:

“I was in the diner eating lunch… Through the windows I saw you swim out and go under but… after a while, you weren’t coming back up. I’ve seen you swim many times before… you’re an amazing swimmer, I know it. I really hope this was an accident… but-” Before he can finish, you throw yourself up and into his arms before he could see you cry. You hid your face over his shoulder, begging him not to finish his sentence. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, to hear the hurt in his voice. You just wanted someone you cared about to touch you, to make you feel real. He was always on your side, rooting for you, you didn’t mean to hurt him like this. The sand stuck to your soaked bodies as you held him, begged him to hold you back. When you whimper, trying to hold in your cries, he finally does.

“When you’re ready, we can talk about this, and for as long as you need,” he grumbles.

Gundham Tanaka

Gundham, although he was an amazing friend - your best friend in fact - wasn’t the best person to vent to. He had a ton of shit of his own to deal with, you could tell. He came with a lot of emotional baggage locked deep inside. The facade and dramatics, it was all an act, a wall he put up to protect himself from the world that hurt him as a child, the world that made him feel irreparably different. You couldn’t exactly vent about your long-term depression and anxieties to someone who would turn it into a lecture on demonic energies or a pep talk about how you were one of the most powerful mortals he’d ever come across as the Supreme Overlord of Ice. Sure, it would cheer you up sometimes, his theatrics would often make you laugh, but it was always temporary. Besides, he wasn’t a therapist, trauma dumping on him all the time wouldn’t be cool, and he obviously coped by escaping into his realm of fantasy. Why would you want to possibly rehash any old wounds of his by bringing him back down to the realities of Earth? You had too much love for him to do that.

You spent as much time with him as possible, though. It was one of of the few things that brought you joy anymore. You’d lost interest in most if not all of your old hobbies. He sensed it, you knew, but became awkward and nervous, never knowing quite how to both cheer you up and stay on script.

Hope’s Peak provided Gundham with a building of his own on the large campus. It tripled as a sort of animal reserve, rescue, and clinic. Most Hope’s Peak Ultimates had their own space dedicated to honing their talent, and this was his. That was the most important part of their school day after all. The other subjects were second priority. Gundham referred to the Ultimate Breeder’s building as his dark temple, his sanctuary of gloom, always something to that effect. He rarely let anyone who wasn’t in the breeding club enter, and even then he kept a close eye on its members. You joined the club because you cared for him, but you doubted he would ever kick his best friend out regardless. He often made exceptions to his rules for you, using some excuse about how he’d baptized you in shadows to make you worthy, or placed a protection spell first.

The breeding club building was truly impressive. There were medical wings, feeding stations, training rooms, even outdoor yards and runs for the animals to feel free. Everything was so well kempt. The place was split up to accommodate different animals and keep prey and predators apart, and there were some dangerous predators to be found there. You’d even seen Gundham bring a perfectly trained bear to class before. Everyone was in awe that day.

In the clinic area, you sat waiting for Gundham to bring some restock supplies. Sitting there with only your own sadness to keep you company, you began to drift into the dark recesses of your mind yet again. It felt like a daily occurrence lately. You felt insecure, worthless, dangerous. Across the room, you gazed into the cage of a particularly nasty breed of snake. It was deadly venomous, and seemed to be calling out your name. Without thinking, as if in a trance, you raise to a standing position. It feels like you’ve lost all control of your limbs as you hover over toward the testy reptile. Unlocking it’s cage door with a click, you reach in, letting the snake coil around your hand with no reluctance, like a person possessed. Like you had nothing to lose.

Being Gundham’s ward, it’s pretty well behaved already, but still new to the rescue and with a slight feral side not yet trained out completely. With your free hand, you grab its head gently and press its mouth into your wrist. You bump its nose into your skin, not enough to hurt the snake, just irritate. Gudham wouldn’t approve of you hurting any animal. You could never. With a small hiss, it pulls back slightly and strikes forward, latching its fangs down deep into the flesh of your wrist. You cry out, feeling something for the first time that day. The fangs were long and dug in snuggly.

Gundham’s deep voice startles you, booming as he enters with the box of supplies in his hand. He’s boasting, something about how the check-ups would go smoothly with you there to assist today when his words are cut off by the sight before him.

The snake in your hand was just now pulling its fangs out of your skin, and you had a horrified look on your face at his sudden appearance, like you didn’t want him to see. His mind started racing, instantly in fight or flight mode - more like save or let die mode - fitting for a man who spends so much time around creatures that run on survival instinct. You drop to your knees, the venom already beginning its work. Your rapidly numbing hand fell to the ground, the snake safely slithering down and onto the floor. Gundham rushed over to the snake, scooping it up and locking it safely back into its cage to secure the area.

You started feeling woozy, feeling heat creep up your arm and spread through your veins to your shoulder and chest. It both hurt and felt tingly, like a limb that had fallen asleep but was simultaneously on fire. Your head began to pulse like a searing migraine, and you were sure the stress of having Gundham there to watch your downfall was making it worse. Your vision was now swimming, blurry and dimming. Gundham is rushing over to you, grabbing you up into his arms, but his yells are muffled as if there were cotton balls in your ears. And then, with a sudden surge of pain in your lungs, you black out.

When your eyes finally crack open, you find them sensitive to the light above. You look around slowly, taking in the familiar surroundings of Hope’s Peak Academy’s hospital wing. You gasp softly when you try to move your right hand and feel resistance tugging back. You glance down, tearing up when you see a bandaged hand firmly clasped around your own. Gundham is pulled up in a comfy chair next to your hospital bed, his head resting on the bed beside your thigh. He’s sound asleep, probably sleeping off the stress you put him through. The curl at the end of his striped hair lays across your blanket. He looked intense even unconscious, his brow furrowed, scrunched up in worry. You said a quiet thank you to his sleeping form, running a hand through his hair lovingly. You assumed that if it weren’t for Gundham quickly administering one of the antivenoms he kept on hand in his clinic, you would’ve been dead before you could even reach the main building’s hospital across campus. You imagined that the view of him carrying your limp body across the grounds in a sprint would’ve been a sight to see.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

You’d been friends with Fuyuhiko for years. You, him, and Peko formed an inseparable trio growing up. Peko felt an overwhelming urge to protect you at all times, but you constantly begged her not to, to lay off, as her job was to live to protect Fuyuhiko, and nobody else. You didn’t want to get her in trouble, and his parents already hated you. They saw you as a pest, a bad influence on their son and a distraction from his destiny of being the clan’s leader one day. You had no yakuza ties, you were just a kid from the same side of the city who got mixed in with little Fuyuhiko as kids. Boss Kuzuryu would’ve loved to be rid of you, and it would’ve been easy too, but his stubborn son convinced him years ago that if he wanted his blood in Hope’s Peak Academy one day, he would have to be used to being around “normal” people his age sooner or later.

You, Fuyuhiko and Peko would sneak around Kuzuryu territories and never get caught or scolded. Being in the company of the boss’s son did help of course. With Fuyuhiko’s knowledge of his father’s empire, you learned where not to go and when, patrol schedules, enemy territory lines, meeting spots and so on. It was like some kind of adventure. As kids, it felt like playing pretend: criminals, thugs, crime lords, avoiding police. Except it was all real. Your parents rarely knew where you truly were, as you lied to spare them from heart attacks.

After over a decade together, you truly loved Fuyuhiko, maybe even as more than a friend, though you’d rather die than ever admit it. He was easier to get along with than people gave him credit for. They were intimidated by his family’s reputation, but you knew the real him. He could be a hothead, but he genuinely cared about the people in his life. He was unlike many other yakuza member’s you’d met, often only putting up an uncaring front because he felt like he had to. You’d always been close, but as you began school at Hope’s Peak, a distance began to grow between you. As you got older, you’d begun to feel this odd, uncontrollable sense of sadness deep within. Each year as another birthday passed, it got worse. It was getting harder and harder to ignore. You’d often withdraw from Fuyuhiko and Peko, not wanting to burden them with this depression you couldn’t seem to shake. Fuyuhiko wasn’t good at talking about feelings anyway. Peko was no better. They certainly were no one’s therapists, and you didn’t want to put that on them anyway. How could they fix you when you yourself didn’t know what was wrong? You were starting to feel pushed to the edge by your own mind. You couldn’t go to therapy either. It felt humiliating. Your best friend was the toughest guy in the world. He would never step foot in a therapist’s office.

You’d had thoughts lately, unsafe thoughts about a permanent solution to the problem. You’d try to push them back, but without support, with your own mind betraying you, you felt more and more hopeless each day. You felt like you needed him, to talk to your best friend before you did something stupid. So right after classes were finished for the day, you headed off campus to the Kuzuryu complex. You knew he’d be there right after school on this day of the week. You also knew that weren’t supposed to go there alone, that it was extremely dangerous to be on Kuzuryu property without an escort, but you were desperate. You’d held onto this for far too long.

It wasn’t until you were skirting along the brick wall to the back entrance of the main Kuzuryu mansion that your heart began to race with second thoughts. The inital gut feeling that stopped you from reaching out to Fuyuhiko in the first place months ago was back in full force. Maybe this was the wrong choice. Fuyuhiko had so much on his plate. He didn’t need your cry baby ass dumping your feelings onto him. Maybe he and Peko would be better off without you in their lives at all. Maybe… the initial thoughts you’d woken up with this morning were the right ones.

You peeked around the corner of the wall. This was dangerous territory. Everyone in town knew to avoid this area if they valued their lives. Non-clan members who entered were liable to be shot or shanked on sight. That didn’t happen often though, as the locals had enough common sense. Fuyuhiko had to be inside, and would’ve come out to get you if he knew you were coming.

But you didn’t want him to know anymore. You wanted to just end it, to fade away and never bother anyone ever again, to never feel this way again.

Before you can change your mind yet again, you round the corner into the courtyard preceding the back entrance, and the guards are alerted immediately. Their guns are trained on you with practiced percision. You prepare for your life to be over, for the pain of bullet fire and screw your eyes shut. The yelling and swearing of the guards, prepared to pull the trigger is abruptly halted when you sense a presence in front of you. You open your eyes to see Fuyuhiko standing before you, arms outstretched in a protective stance. He’s swearing like a sailor at his underlings, face red as a tomato with rage.

“Fuyu..hiko?” You sniffle, barely above a whisper. This feels unreal, that a miracle like this would happen to you in what should be your last moment. The petite gangster guarding you was burning with a level of anger too hot to even have your meek voice register in his mind.

“How dare you point that damn gun at (Y/N)!” He was ranting, on a temper-high, and his subordinates were cowering with every word. Upsetting the boss’s son was not a good look for them. Finally satisfied with the amount of fear he’d struck into them, he ordered them to get lost, before things got worse for them. Now alone with you in the empty courtyard, he turned to face you, taking a deep breath to calm himself. That anger should be reserved for the deserving, and he hated when you saw him get like that. He knew he could be a dick, a tempermental jerk at times, but he had a soft spot for you and hated to see you upset. Seeing your forlorn expression finally for himself, he grabbed your shoulder, ushering you off and into the side room he’d entered from when he first saw your foolish ass step into the courtyard alone. Bringing a thumb up, he wiped a tear from the corner of your eye that threatened to fall. “Come on, we have to talk.”

Teruteru Hanamura

Your best friend on campus, Teruteru Hanamura loved cooking for you. Of course he loved cooking, he was the Ultimate Cook after all, but he found it especially rewarding to cook for someone he truly cared about. He was like his mother in that way. You always taste tested his newest culinary creations and were brutally honest about your reviews so he could improve. He spent many lunch periods making you extravagant meals. He refused to let you pack your own, order out, or eat at the cafeteria. It was a win-win: the school saw every minute he spent cooking as him honing his ultimate talent, and you got free food. You guys would chat it up for hours, playfully flirt, and just enjoy each other’s company.

Much to his chagrin, he started to notice you coming to your lunch meet-ups less and less these past few months. When you did show up, you didn't seem as excited as you used to be. He assumed it was normal for most students at one point or another. School work and the pressure to excel at such a prestigious school were probably just stressing you out. He was more of a glass-half-full kind of guy, so the possibility of it being anything more serious than that rolled right off his back. It was out of the question. He didn’t even want to think about such negativity.

It wasn’t until you stopped coming altogether that he realized he might have to.

You’d miss lunch, and plans to hang out after school hours, and stopped texting back as much. It deeply saddened him. Food was his way to show he loved you and cherished your friendship, the way he expressed his creativity and feelings to the world. If he couldn’t share it with his closest friend, he didn’t want to share it with anyone. In his mind, he’d already attributed your behavior to stress, but maybe you also just weren’t interested in being his friend anymore? You sounded more solemn than usual on the phone, and even with your tone through texts. He wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t like him anymore and just wanted to let him down easy. He was a bit much for most people.

After pacing and getting into his own head for hours in the kitchen, he worked up the courage to go to your dorm room and finally have the talk, to confront you directly and ask if he’d done anything to upset you. Sweating bullets outside your door, his fear of confrontation and hatred of negative energy was creeping up on him. With a big gulp, he swallowed before knocking with false confidence. He knew you were in there, he heard your TV through the door and somewhat knew your schedule. This is were you would most certainly be at this time after classes. He called out to you, and when you didn’t answer, he jiggled the door handle, suddenly fearing that maybe the situation was worse than he might’ve once thought. Finding the door unlocked, he gently pushed the door open and crept in.

He finds the room completely dark save for the light of the TV. In the flashing of the screen, he can see the piles of garbage and clothing all over your floor. He scanned the environment anxiously, shocked at the state of your dorm. Then he finds you, sitting up in your bed, blankets covering your legs, silent as the grave, You’re just staring, as if in a trance, completely emotionless. He can see your phone lighting up on the bedside table, notifications buzzing, but you make no move to react.

“(Y/N)?” He can’t believe he’s seeing you like this. You were like a zombie, an empty shell of the person he knew and loved. When you don’t answer, he moves to sit on the side of the bed, concerned. He tiptoes over cautiously, not wanting to trigger any negative response from you. What he sees now, up close to you in the dimly lit room makes his eyes widen in horror.

On your lap, on top of a plastic plate is the cheapest, most unappetizing plate of budget spaghetti he’d ever seen, likely from some cafeteria or corner store. It looked like something a student would keep as a midnight snack in their mini fridge just in case they were starving when everything was closed, a quick fix. That wasn’t the worst part though.

No, the worst most definitely had to be the entire bottle’s worth of pills you’d seemingly emptied on top of the depressing-looking noodles. A plastic fork sat nestled in between the noodles and the pills, as if you were just about to begin eating before he arrived (perhaps in the nick of time).

It’s in that moment he realized exactly what was going on here. This was all so overwhelming to him, but his first priority was saving his best friend. Again, with the intention not to trigger anything, to not overstimulate or make anything worse in mind, he moves slowly, constantly checking your expression or any change or sign of stress. His shaking hands take the plate in their grasp, and he pulls it back and safely away from you. His voice cracks when he finally speaks again.

“H-hey! (Y/N), y-ya know… food is love… food is…” he struggles for the right words, so unsure of his ability to be what you need right now, “... food is beauty, and a very, very good thing! Food is meant to heal and nourish your body, never hurt it!” He smiles weakly, taking one of your limp hands in his own, and you feel his warmth transfer over, flooding into you. “We don’t have to talk right now, but I’m gonna stay, o-okay? I’m gonna stay right here.”

Kazuichi Souda

Kazuichi was stressing. He’d never felt this much in a bind in his entire life. When it came to his own negative feelings and problems, he usually felt fine expressing himself, often yelling or crying if he needed to, letting someone know they’d upset him. When it came to comforting others, it always felt so damn awkward, and it was a feeling he’d like to avoid if he could. He was just no good at it. He was torn now, as it was his own best friend who needed his emotional support, and he’d run away like a selfish coward, hidden from the stress of the situation. He was afraid, and now the situation seemed to be boiling over, to the point of no return.

You were obviously going though something, and could tell. He was closer to you than anyone. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed a definite decline in your energy, the amount of sleep you were getting, and general happiness lately. He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t avoiding a direct conversation about it. He didn’t even know what to say, or if his advice would help. He was no professional, and growing up with a dad that abused him verbally and sometimes even physically, he’d learned to cope with trauma and depressive episodes in his own ways. There were times that he’d have to push back his own feelings to move on when his dad was involved, so how could someone like him help others?

Something that always helped him feel a bit better about himself was altering his outward appearance to satisfy his own sense of self expression and aesthetic. He’d once advised that you get a piercing, dye and cut your hair, buy some new clothes when you were in a particularly dismal mood. You didn’t seem to go for it. In fact, he later felt like a dick for even suggesting it, like maybe now you thought he wasn’t taking you seriously. You’d made an excuse to go back to your dorm almost immediately after the conversation.

He’d felt like an asshole for being a little more distant with you the past few days, but he just felt like a colossal loser for not being able to help one of the most important people in his life. It was overwhelming. What if you wanted to be alone right now? What if him trying to help ended up making it worse? Pacing his mess of a room, he ran his hands through his pink hair, clawing over his scalp in stress. He felt overstimulated, mind bouncing dozens of thoughts around at once.

He stopped, taking a deep breath to try and narrow these thoughts down and make an actual, reasonable plan. At the end of the day, the most important thing was the well-being of his friend. The end goal had to be to get you help or help you himself so that your friendship could get back on track to the normal, happy every day routine that you both loved. The end goal was for sure in his mind: to see his friend smile again and see a familiar glow of happiness radiate off of them. To exorcise this depression permanently, or to at least take the first steps in that direction. If he had to put aside his own feelings of embarrassment and anxiety to achieve that… well, he felt like that goal was worth almost any level of uncomfortableness.

He put his foot down, now resigned to just do what he’d wanted to do deep down for days. You would do the same for him if the situation were reversed, and he knew that. From his room on the opposite side of the dormitory wing, he made his way down the long hall until he reached your own dorm room. You were so very close, but felt so far away when he shut you out for the comfort of his own room. Now he was here, ready to finally give his all to help you like he should’ve the whole time. Even if you just needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to vent to, he wanted to pull through and be there for you until he could guide you through the next steps.

Silent before your door, he was about to knock when he picked up a sound from the other side. He recognized your voice instantly, and you were crying, weeping quite loudly inside your room. This triggers something in him, like a need to protect you, like hearing you in pain hurts him as well. Without thinking, he grabbed the door handle and threw the door open. It’s unlocked, carelessly as if you were just coming in from class and thought of nothing else but your current goal, one-track mind not even bothering to lock your door for safety or privacy. Your school bag and books are thrown haphazardly on the ground and he looks for you, following the source of the cries to the small side bathroom that every dorm room contained.

He nearly lets out a shrill scream of shock when he sees you standing in front of your bathroom mirror, holding a little silver razor blade up to your wrist. It looked like you were building up the courage, so ensnared by your own miserable thoughts that you didn’t even notice him until he was already leaping forward and yelling out your name. You looked up, wide eyes streaked with tears and puffy with redness.

“Kazuichi?!” Your voice is hoarse from crying and you feel so taken aback by his sudden appearance, so small and vulnerable. You felt foolish, caught in this compromising situation, embarrassed that someone you cared about so deeply would ever see you in this state. He didn’t seem to care about that though, only concerned with getting you back down to a safe mental state in this moment. He eyed you, then the razor blade in your hand.

“Please… please don’t do it. Please,” he begs you, one calloused hand reaching out toward you, palm outstretched. “I can’t let you go there. Please, don’t make me watch you do this because I refuse to leave, so…” His voice shook, and he inched closer, hand still ready for you to make the next move. Exhuasted, humiliated, and ready to submit to his help, you concede. You place the razor safey flat-side down into his palm, and he quickly discards it into the trash bin behind him, itching to get it out of his hands expeditiously. With that out of the way, he grabs you around the shoulders, pulling you into a hug that’s almost suffocating. He crushes you against his chest, and feels you shaking, breathing slowly evening out in his embrace. You let your eyes fluttered closed, let him help you stabilize.

“I am… so sorry for not taking this as serious as I should’ve. I never thought it would get this bad!” You could hear him crying. Kazuichi was never one to be afraid to shed tears when he was overwhelmed. You liked that sensitive side of him. “I’m sorry from running from your issues. I’m here now… I’m here.”

Byakuya Twogami

You were fascinated by the self-appointed leader of your little group. Ever since the killing game began, people kind of looked to him for guidance because he had a sense of authority and true confidence in his voice. There was a commanding tone and conviction to his words that you assumed was native to one of his status.

You were interested in his family business and the very different world of the elites like him in general, as you’d made it to Hope’s Peak on pure talent alone and not due to any nepotism or financial status. Attending the academy was the first chance you really had to get out of your old neighborhood and see how other people lived. It had been a miracle that you’d been scouted. The Togami family was just so vastly different from yours in every way. You wanted to know how it all worked. You often found yourself following him around and asking him questions that he probably found tedious and trivial. They were questions that he was probably asked in every interview, or with every new friend who tried to cozy up to him for his money and influence, but those were never your intentions. What began as curiosity for his different way of life turned into you simply enjoying getting to know him. He could even have a sense of humor on occasion, even if he didn’t see it that way.

Eventually, he would start to delegate you to little tasks to help him out, as if you were one of his retainers. In his mind you were competent and he respected you enough to trust you with the work. Overthinking, you took it as him just trying to get you out of his hair. You felt kind of bummed out, like you were probably getting on his nerves and bothering him. His style of communication was so different from your own that you would’ve never guessed that him getting rid of you and spending less time with you could mean he respected you, even if there was a task involved taht required you to move on your own. What made it worse was that you spent so much time with him that you really hadn’t gotten to know any of your other classmates. You weren’t close with any of them so it felt awkward to be walking around without Togami by your side. Interacting with a bunch of people who had already seemed to sort out their friendships might be a bit awkward and uncomfortable. Fortunately, there were a lot of extroverts in this group that would probably pull you in and make you feel right at home as soon as you reached out even mildly.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now. Everyone had agreed that the killing game was absolute nonsense, because none of you would ever stoop so low as to actually kill someone for any reason. Yet here you were eavesdropping on a concerning conversation between the seemingly harmless Nagito and the careless Teruteru. Nagito was planning to start up the killing game at the party you all were planning tonight and it didn’t seem like anything would stop him. You could hear the fear in Teruteru’s voice as he tried to speak sense into the much taller, lanky boy. Nagito already had a weapon hidden under a dining table, had sent threatening notes out, left little hints to put his plan into motion. It sounded completely and utterly insane!

You were there in the first place because Togami asked you earlier that day to scope out the party building stealthily and quietly. He wanted someone he trusted to gather any dangerous instruments or note any faults in the architecture that could cause an injury or allow secret entry. Nagito and Teruteru were there cleaning and setting up the food and decorations for the class party later that night, but Byakuya seemed suspicious of the both of them when he spoke on it. It wasn’t hard for you to see why now, when not too long after sneaking into the building, you happened upon this conversation. You had to tell someone, of course, but who would believe you except maybe Togami himself? Nagito and Teruteru could always deny it and it would be your word over theirs. The class might believe you over Teruteru, but Nagito seemed really well liked within the group.

When you relayed Nagito’s plans to Togami later, it felt like he already knew somehow, like you only just confirmed his feelings. You didn’t know how he knew, but he seemed to be taking it seriously. He asked that you share this info with no one else, and told you not to worry as he had it all under control.

How could you not worry about it? Now, at the actual the party you’re unable to relax, on edge even in the presence of amazing food and happy people. You’re nearly shaking with worry, trying to psych yourself into believing that Nagito would change his mind. He was bluffing… he’d chicken out. Everything would be okay. Togami would handle it! Maybe he talked to Nagtio on the side before the party, maybe that natural intimidating aura of his convinced Nagito to let go of his nefarious plans. Teruteru sure seemed to be perky and proud of his food spread tonight, so surely the whole murder plan was off the table. Why would he be so calm otherwise, when he was terrified earlier?

When the lights abruptly went out, everything changed. You panicked, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. Your heart rate spiraled out of control, adrenaline kicking into high gear. You followed your instincts to dash over to the back table, the one Nagito was standing next to just before the lights went out. You had to get to that weapon before him, You wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of knowing you could’ve prevented this by warning the entire group if Nagito succeeded in killing someone. You knew this plan was in the works. You trusted Togami to stop it before now and here it was: the moment of truth. You had to act. You weren’t close with any of these people, but they all seemed to already care for each other, if even just a little bit. It was better if you died here over anybody else. It had to be your duty after the information you chose to withhold from them. It wouldn’t have been fair.

As you were about to dive under the table in the dark, you feel a strong grip on your arm. You are lifted and thrusted backwards and away from the table. You yell out, fearing an altercation with Nagito and preparing for a fight, but as you fall back onto your butt with a thud a few feet from the table, all physical contact ceases. There’s a commotion, and you scramble backwards in the dark. There’s confusion and chaos, and then the lights turn back on.

You wouldn’t know until you were gathering evidence for very the first class trial later that night, that Togami had taken your place under that table. The arm that pushed you back had been his. While you couldn’t see him, he used night vision goggles to see you and died in your place. You couldn’t help but think that maybe if you trusted him when he said to trust him, let him handle it and didn’t get in the way of the table, he would’ve had a second or two more to think and react… and maybe he wouldn’t be dead. It could’ve been you, and you would be eternally grateful for his sacrifice, even if he didn’t plan for it that night,

You vowed to spend whatever time left you had on this miserable island avenging him by and honoring his memory while you all worked together to stop Monokuma.

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stuckyfingers · 5 months

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I'm just thinking about autistic Steve...

(I'm not as well educated about autism as I'd like to be so do correct me if I'm wrong)

Like, he's always been 'weird' even apart from his physical disabilities. He's felt a kind of self hatred over how sensitive he is to little things that are wrong but he can't explain why.

He hated talking but also loved talking about one specific thing that noone had any idea why he liked. (If someone can headcanon his hyperfixation, that'd be great). Either way, it didn't make him very popular among his peers. As a child he'd get bullied for just about anything because of how many faux pas-es he made.

He'd try to get home as soon as possible from school and shut himself into his plywood cabin of a room and cry. Bucky theorized that he was a vampire because of how much he liked fabric lined dark places.

He never guessed it wasn't normal to hate wearing clothes, so he continued living in constant discomfort and caution. Sarah had caught on to the specificities of how he needed his food and tried her best to get his safe foods on the table despite being poor. (Yes, she even called it that.)

Did I mention he also starts crying when he can't predict his day. And when things get more and more uncertain with the Depression swinging in, he gets so stressed that his heart problems worsen.

But having Bucky as a friend helps them both survive the times. Bucky was the only person who seemed unconcerned and unjudgmental about Steve's 'moodiness' and 'fidgeting'. He tried to understand when Steve described sensory overloads to him, and though he couldn't relate he accommodated Steve as much as he could.

Steve was frighteningly smart and picked up on every social cue he found, organizing them into a mental flowchart, assuming that this was what everyone did. But for most of his childhood he saw himself as less smart because Bucky seemed to be able to tell him things that he somehow still missed.

"Well how the fuck am I supposed to know that if they don't give any indication of being sarcastic?"

"Because it's not sarcasm, Steve... It's just- talking shop. A fake nice word, just because."

"How am I supposed to tell the difference?"

"Well, you just do. I don't know how you could... consciously do it."

By the miracle of God (and Bucky) he pushes through Eugenics era until 1943.

The Serum brings color to his eyes and more sound to his bad ear.

And he hates it.

But what's new is how much more physical energy he has to mask it.

It feels comparatively better to be able to mask without getting exhausted so fast, so he assumes his 'weirdness' has been cured and goes to war. In his line of work, however, he never gets a day's rest for his brain that craved routine, and because of how he's now able to push the feeling deep down and cover it up, Bucky can hardly recognize him.

And when he's out of the ice, his brain is turned to mush at having to learn new cues along with being autistic but anyone in that situation would have found it as difficult, so he passes it off.

One day he sees one of the people at Sam's VA talked about how their autism shaped their experience of PTSD differently, and Steve did the customary google search to learn more about it.

It said 'can't make eye contact'. But he knew the correct ratio of eye contact / looking away and what part of the eye he could look at so that it wouldn't drive him mad.

It said 'sensory issues' and he felt bad for those who actually had it because that must be horrible.

'Black and White thinking' okay but that doesn't mean- but see, he did know that illegal things weren't necessarily bad, right? He was ready to accept the criminality of something if it was a means to a moral end. And maybe there were some things that he could not see any nuance in but there were so many things he could. He couldn't have believed in Bucky if his thinking was Black and White right?

'Lack of empathy' No. Steve didn't understand people's feelings immediately, but he always logically guessed when they needed help. He kept note of the things that people found comforting so that he could be of comfort when they were down. He was empathetic, right?

He knew he wasn't autistic. (spoiler alert, he's just reading the symptoms from an outside perspective)

It's when he starts following more and more autistic creators that he felt less wrong for those weird things he did as a kid. He chuckles nervously scrolling through the tiktoks like "Ha ha why are ya'll so relatable"

He's not immune to the stigma but comes to terms with it. It feels a lot like how he came to terms with being queer. He's even surprised when he realizes that he was also wrongly assuming that it was gone because of the serum when it just became more manageable (for others) when he did.

Bucky listens like he always did when Steve explains things to him. And after a long while of living his truth with Bucky, Steve gets more comfortable describing himself as autistic to other people as well.

He starts experimenting with stimming, which already feels MILES better than forcing himself into a 'calm' and steady Captain's body language. Once he retires after Endgame, he surrounds himself with comfort and accommodations in his apartment and builds a routine he can finally be at peace with.

#autism #autistic Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers #stucky #recovery

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lyssak09 · 2 years

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hello!! i am super excited to see that you write for the umbrella academy and the walking dead!! could i request a yandere!daryl dixon x reader (maybe set around the farm or prison era) where he’s obsessed with her and wants to start a little family after seeing how adorable Judith is and reader taking care of her? You can make it as dark as you’re comfortable with. thank you so so much <33

Yandere Daryl Dixon

If Daryl knew you before the walkers than his obsession will be 10x worse

Daryl is a possessive, obsessive, short fuse, and a bit stalker/manipulative yandere

He knows your favorite color and everything about you all the down to your schedule

Daryl is scared shitless that you're gonna die from walkers. All because you're too kind and helpful that you forget about looking out for yourself. Every thing you do is locked down in his memory. From your favorite things to your schedule.

He always has an eye on you. And if you ask for even a tiny bit of space then you be extremely guilt tripped or be berated. Like he could bring you to tears if he tired hard enough

Daryl will and has killed for you (not just walkers). You're the love of his life. All you do to him is brighten his day and make him fall in love over and over again.

His punishments are mental and slight physical. But you might not need them.

He will punch around you. Never hit you on purpose. He knows better.

He won't mean to treat you like his father treated his mom. But its what he knows. If you go against Daryl and his rules you will get berated by him

"I'm never gonna hate you. But god damn it! I provide for you in this fucked up world, and this is how you repay me? I should just stick you out in the woods, shouldn't I?!"

Once Lori died and the group settles in the prison, you become a mother to Judith and Carl. Rick is forever grateful about it and starts to see you as more (more on that later)

Daryl thinks it is the cutest thing ever. He might not say it but he will show it with small smiles.

All Daryl wants to do eventually is start a tiny family with you. Whether you like it or not

Judith will babble at you all the time. And Carl will be by your side while morning his mother.

Because of your connection with Rick's children, you two start a romantic relationship sorta quick.

You start to spend more of your time with the kids and Rick. Instead of hanging out with your best friend, Daryl.

Daryl's yandere tendencies will get 100% worse because of that.

Daryl will start to stalk you trying to figure out what is so special about Rick.

Once he finds out about you and Rick he will become hell on earth

Daryl will kidnap you. He will take you to one of two places.

Either a extremely secluded place in the prison or a cabin far far away from everyone

No matter which place he keeps you, he'll have things you want. Daryl even has baby stuff ready. This man is prepared.

Rick will go crazy and depressive searching for you. Carl is spiraling into depression and Judith is really sad :(. Rick will stop at nothing to find you, he needs his Y/N.

If he ever finds you it could lead to an ultimate civil war between him and Daryl. But its unlikely that you'll be found. Daryl is making sure you're his forever.

You'll wake up with a ring on your left ring finger and a man holding you

"Daryl! Let me out! Rick is find out you took me and is gonna save me" you yelled and thrashed against the chains. Daryl dismissed your statement and kissed you. "I am allowed to keep my wife with me and away from others. You were speechless. " I am not your wife, Daryl. I'm with Rick!" You said extremely frustrated. He let out a low growl, "You better watch your mouth, Sunshine.". You flinched but kept talking, "You need to talk to one of our doctor's they might be able to help". Daryl let out a little laugh, "Help with what? I'm happier now than I've been in years. You love me, I have you to myself, and we're starting a family soon. Everything is perfect"

@flowercrowns-goodvibes thank you so much for requesting!! Your request gave me a lot of ideas. One of my ideas for it was pretty dark and involved snatching Judith. If anyone would like to see that come to fruition please let me know. Sorry its short. Feel free to request again! That stands for everyone as well.

#yandere headcanon #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere #the walking dead #twd #TWD #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon #Yandere TWD #yandere daryl dixon #Lyssa's hcs #Ask Lyssa #Miss Blue writing

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hotvintagepoll · 24 days

Text

Propaganda

Lena Horne (Cabin in the Sky, Stormy Weather)— Incredibly talented biracial actress, singer, dancer, and activist (she did so much work towards integrating audiences). Because of the racism of the era, she rarely got to be the lead actress but filmmakers loved her so much that they would often create stand alone segments within a film to highlight her beautiful singing, knowing that these segments would ultimately be cut from the film by censors in areas that forbid films with Black performers. Also, she's just so wonderful in Cabin in the Sky as a gold-digger villain who is not the least bit subtle about her intentions. I would highly recommend checking out her work.

Ginger Rogers (Swing Time, Top Hat)—Look I’ll level with you, I’ve never seen her in a musical and I know that she’s an amazing dancer and she’ll be even hotter when I finally watch Top Hat but I’m not submitting her as a dancer I’m submitting her as an ACTRESS. Her comic timing is impeccable!!!!! She’s full to bursting with life and in every role she seems to be having FUN, you can practically feel the twinkle in her eye. With her natural warmth it’s like she’s letting you in on the joke, y’all get to have this fun together! Making me laugh is hot!!! [If you'd like to see Ginger dance, videos below the cut]

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lena Horne:

64.media.tumblr.com

Black American powerhouse singer and actor who faced all the usual bullshit that any BIPOC faced in vintage Hollywood and achieved legendary status anyway. Also a Civil Rights movement icon.

She was a gem

She was so beautiful and those dimples are amazing! Truly depressing how badly Hollywood treated her because she was black. I would love to have seen what she really could have been if they didn’t cast her in so many yikes roles. She’s got gorgeous eyes and that body! Her joyful smile makes happiness sexy!

youtube

Civil rights actress, singer, dancer, actress, she's got the whole package

Lena Horne was a wonderful singer and actress who largely starred in black cast musicals. While she had a lot of main stream success, she ultimately lost the lead role in showboat (a role she had played on the stage) to a white actress due to hollywood's prejudices. She was also blacklisted during the HUAC hearings, but she still managed to be hot be hot as fuck and have a career spanning decades, working with more well-known stars like Judy Garland in musicals, and working on stage and releasing albums when her hollywood career began to suffer.

Miss Horne became famous during a period of time when Hollywood had very few meaningful roles for people of color. Although she is more so known as a performer, she starred in two successful all black productions (Cabin in the Sky & Stormy Weather). If that wasn't enough, she also guest starred on the Muppets (Season 1, Episode 11)

Ginger Rogers propaganda:

She needs no introduction! An undeniable powerhouse on the dancefloor, and no less talented an actress. I once watched a compilation of cinema's greatest dance scenes and one of her and Fred Astaire's dances was featured, and one of the talking heads said he pitied her for 'having to keep up with him' - or something to that effect. Bullshit, I cry. Ginger Rogers was his absolute equal, and underplaying her incredible skill is downright criminal. I want the 'Cheek to Cheek' sequence from Top Hat to be permanently burned into my memory.

"Backwards in high heels", as the saying goes (though the pedant in me must point out that she in fact spent her fair share of time leading or dancing side-by-side). One of the earliest twinkle-toed ladies of the silver screen, and in terms of acting/persona, her balance of wide-eyed cuteness and movie-star glamour has never quite been replicated.

we all know her beloved string of musicals with fred but ginger also has an extensive and varied non-fred filmography that she's great in! a few ginger moments that are important 2 me personally ginger singing “we’re in the money” in gold diggers of 1933, complete with a verse in pig latin bc this whole movie is kinda mocking the concept of anyone actually being in the money in 1933; ginger and una merkel singing a verse of “shuffle off to buffalo” in 42nd street, providing some statler & waldorf-esque commentary on newlyweds from the upper berth of a railway car (interesting that belly was apparently a risque word in 1933 - maybe its bc the lyric is innuendo-ing about out of wedlock pregnancies - and that panties was a term for men’s underthings!); a favorite fred & ginger number

Ginger Rogers could do everything! She could sing, dance and act. She was hilarious in comedies, moving in dramatic roles (she won an Oscar for Kitty Foyle in 1940) and absolutely gorgeous!

Listen, no shade to Fred Astaire at all, but she both kept up with him step for step and then later went on to WIN AN OSCAR FOR ACTING. (which he did not.) truly a double threat!!!

One of the best dancers in Hollywood! Her work with Fred Astaire is just incredible.

ONE LINE: "Everything Fred did, Ginger did backwards and in heels" AND THEYRE RIGHT! Rogers was a total dance badass, and a lot of movie buffs know the story, but the Never Gonna Dance number from Swing Time took almost 50 takes, and allegedly by the end of filming it her white shoes had been stained pink because her feet were bleeding. As a note, she looks crazy gorgeous in this number. Watching these two dance is insane. They match up to each other in a way my mom describes as "divine" and she's right. DANCE NUMBERS!

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Let's Call The Whole Thing Off (Shall We Dance, 1937, dancing starts at 3:14, they're in ROLLERSKATES)

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(Ginger Rogers is the hottest woman ever to live in this number. seeing this as a teenager altered my brain chemistry)

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(also watch her feet and how she moves opposite Astaire in this one. We all know our boy Freddie had that precision demon but jesus christ Miss Rogers, let a girl live!)

Pick Yourself Up, Swing Time 1936 (Everyone's seen this one but by god you are going to see it AGAIN!)

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Shall We Dance, 1937 (duet begins at 2:34)

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Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, Roberta 1935 (There's just something about Ginger Rogers in a slick black dress man)

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The Continental, The Gay Divorcee 1934

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God she's MAGIC in this one.

Gay Divorcee's Ending Montage 1934

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The infamous table and chairs spin happens at about 0:49. Pay CLOSE attention to her in this bc it looks like witchcraft and I feel lightheaded whenever I watch this movie bc shes THAT awesome.

She is a miracle to watch. Sorry for the sheer amount of clips. My entire family is like madly in love with Ginger Rogers.

#ginger rogers #lena horne #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3 #Youtube

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bn-draws · 2 years

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Depression cabin-era sad bastard Snavid, still hot even when he's a disheveled disaster thanks to the soldier genes or whatever.

#mgs #metal gear solid #solid snake #snavid #solidsnake #my artwork

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occasionallyprosie · 5 months

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Frayed Edges

AO3 Link

The battle’s over. The Shadow is defeated and the Triforce of Power retrieved… so why is the chain still here? Why haven’t they gone home? It’s not like the Shadow has been the one that’s been making the portals the whole time… it’s not like they’re in an unknown Hyrule with no way home.

Aka, Legend fights depression/anger issues except it’s not his own depression and anger issues it’s literally everyone else’s until he’s pushed to doing the nuclear option. Sky (kinda) hugs him tho :)

TW: implied suicidal ideation

——————————————

It was over.

Sighs of relief echoed around the room as the Shadow was finally defeated, as the source of the portals and the monsters it displaced and empowered was finally defeated.

Legend picked up the little triangle off the ground. He sighed softly, clasping his hand around the Triforce of Power and feeling its energy course through him.

"We should put that where it belongs," Sky said.

"Where?" Wild asked, the question clearly made out of curiosity than anything as he sipped a potion. A cut on his cheek healed over. "That thing feels powerful."

"It's a piece of the Triforce," Hyrule said. "I think Legend can hold onto it until we find out where it's held in this era."

"Then we go home!" Wind cheered.

Twilight laughed. "Yeah, then we go home, sailor. So let's make the best of this one last quest."

Legend let the Triforce of Power fade into his skin, the mark on the back of his left hand emblazoned, the top triangle filling in just like the bottom right one.

"Let's find out which era the Shadow was from," Time ordered and they made to exit the dungeon.

Upon investigation, they learned there was no way to access the sacred realm from this time, none of the methods they knew would work nor did the locations where they usually traveled over existed. The Triforce of Courage turned out to be wielded by a little boy no older than three, the mark on his hand having no more meaning than any other birthmark. The Triforce of Wisdom was the same. There was no kingdom, no Hyrule, nothing.

"It's like they're only wielded," Sky said when they went back to the fairly large, abandoned cabin they'd been making good use of. "Which means there's no place to put it back."

"We can't take it back to any of our eras, that's just an awful idea," Warriors agreed. Wind and Twilight both grimaced while Hyrule looked horrified.

"Like that hairstyle you decided on this morning," Legend muttered and Four snorted, Wind giggled softly too. Twilight even rolled his eyes and the tension was successfully cut as Warriors squawked and argued that Legend knew full well that he hadn't had time to fix his hair that morning.

He realized they didn't know.

Legend watched them all slowly come to the realization even as he and Four and Hyrule forged and enchanted a box to hide the Triforce away.

Even once they put it deep in a cave and used a lot of their assorted items and magic to bury it far out of reach, to place traps to keep it impossible to take, and buried it. That way, whenever the next Champion of Din was born, it would go to them and there would be an empty, magically defended, unbreakable box, but until then, the Triforce of Power would be safe and inaccessible.

Once that was done, he saw the expectation, then they all slowly came to the realization.

They had no way back. None of them did. The shadow had brought them here and the Golden Goddesses had left centuries ago while Hylia died, for the second time, whenever Sun died or will die.

Legend sat on the beam in the ceiling of their new abode, the cabin managing to house them well enough especially after Twilight and Time took Wild to repair most of it.

He watched the realization hit Hyrule and in the near same moment it was hitting Twilight.

Twilight was the one to voice it.

"Oh Ordona," he whispered. "We cain't go back, can we?"

"What?" Wild looked up from the cooking pot he'd set up inside the cabin. "What do you mean?"

"The Shadow made the portals," Hyrule breathed, he looked up at Legend. "We don't have a way back."

Legend met his eyes before he looked away and nodded silently.

"You've known," Hyrule realized too.

"Not the only one,” he said, and glanced at Time.

Time had been silent for a while now, but he nodded when the attention was on him, fidgeting with a blue ocarina.

Finally, the realization settled in on all of them. The understanding that they were stuck visibly hit them.

Sky was in denial, Legend noted. The knight insisted they try and find a way to put the Triforce of Power into the sacred realm. Wild was mostly with him, but both did a lot of prayer to the goddesses to give them a portal.

Warriors and Twilight, however, were in anger. Both snapped at everyone, got mad at Sky and Wild for (being in denial) praying and at Time and Four for trying to find a way to fix things. Twilight usually got his anger out through Time making him help with building up the cabin, where Warriors would end up sparring with someone, usually Legend.

Four and Time were in bargaining, searching everywhere for other options, Time even going as far as enlisting Four with his Ocarina of Time to see if they could use the divine, temporal magic in it to create something that got them back home.

Hyrule and Wind were at depression, when Wind realized there was no way back he left the cabin and Legend followed him to find their youngest in tears, sobbing for his grandmother, his sister, and his best friend whom he'd never see again. Hyrule was much of the same, he'd been the only one though who'd gone through the other stages, he'd insisted otherwise at first, begged the goddesses to give them a way home, snapped angrily at everyone for every little thing, then he was just breaking down and stayed in this depressive state as he mourned his home.

Legend noticed he was the only one at acceptance. He was the only one who seemed to realize that bad things happened and there was nothing they could do to stop that, only improve the end result or aftermath.

He started to help around the cabin even as his wanderlust—and everyone else's—began to grow. He started with the cabin itself, he kept Warriors and Twilight busy with chopping wood and helping him put things up, walls and roofing. He pulled Hyrule and Wind into helping with as much as he could, giving them things to do to keep them from sitting in their grief all day. The other four were stubborn that they wouldn't need the cabin much longer and they'd be home sometime soon, but Legend managed to convince them that having a base that allowed them safety and a bit of comfort while they were in an unknown land was the best option.

He held onto the strings of the fraying group and pulled them back together. Dynamics shifted rapidly, Wild and Twilight constantly at ends as Wild shifted from denial to bargaining, still constantly praying but now helping Four and Time. Time and Warriors got into fights as Time grew closer and closer to depression as he seemed to slowly approach the understanding he wasn't getting back to his wife. Hyrule and Wind both becoming recluses and avoiding everyone else. Four shifting from bargaining to anger and depression at the same time, snapping at everyone and crying himself to sleep.

Legend got Four to help him plan a forge and Twilight and Warriors—who both accepted their roles as the heavy lifters—helped them build it. Four agreed to make hinges and nails which Wild supplied the metal for.

He showed Wild how to cut and sand wooden boards and they worked on a kitchen. Twilight was leaving anger as he got the two to work together on that.

He took Hyrule and Wind to help find animals and coax bees into beginning a new hive in an apiary that Legend had spent a while making out of thatch and wood. They made pens for the wild hogs they'd tracked down and caught, Wind somehow being a naturally with them and Hyrule able to keep them somewhat calm with his fairy magic as they worked to domesticate them.

"You're turning this into a permanent residence, vet," Sky said once while Legend enlisted him to come with him to a somewhat distant but nearby village for more supplies.

"So?" Legend didn't deny that.

"We'll go home," Sky said, "those animals will be left alone soon enough."

"I'll make sure they're free to roam again before we leave," Legend promised. "But until then... Rulie and the Sailor need something to focus on, they both love animals and those are a lot of work. Smithy needs a forge to stay present so we got him a forge. Rancher and Wars both have a lot of things to work out so we're working on it."

"I guess," Sky sighed. "I don't see the point. We'll leave soon."

Legend decided not to mention that they'd been here for a year now and Sky had been saying that the whole time.

"Well, we'll want some sheep or maybe goats, Twi would like goats and they have wool... and milk, goats will do well in the area too. We've knocked down a bunch of trees so there is room," Legend mused. "I wonder if I could grow some apple trees while we're here. I know wild animals adore those so it may help with balancing out all the lumber we've cut down."

"I guess that wouldn't be a bad idea," Sky sighed. "We have cut down a lot of trees, so I suppose giving the native animals something to eat wouldn't be a bad idea. Are you aiming for self sufficiency?"

Legend just hummed and shrugged. He was aiming for his brothers not falling apart, but self sufficiency worked.

He noted to get cuccos too sometime soon, Sky would enjoy those. He'd have to figure out how to handle Time...

Two years into their 'brief stay' in the between era, Legend watched them continue to fall apart despite his best efforts.

They had things to do, things to bond over, he'd send Wars, Wind, and Hyrule to help Four in the forge most days as Four refused mostly to leave. The former three were still in anger and depression respectively. Four was more in depression than bargaining now.

Yet they were fraying. Time snapped at everyone, especially Legend, Wind, and Twilight, then Twilight and Warriors were at each other's backs but were constantly at odds with one another, Wild avoided everyone as did Four, and both were beginning to snap at them all. Sky too, he lost the soft, dreamy-eyed look, and was constantly angry at everyone.

Legend tried giving them days to themselves, days with the few they didn't snap at, but nothing worked. He sent Wild and Hyrule, the only pairing that held true even after everything went bad, on excursions to the woods, asking them to be back within the week, to be careful, and 'get a lay of the land'. He had Wind and Time paired off, the former usually able to coax the latter out of any funk, but Wind only seemed to get more depressive and Time more angry that Legend quickly ended that attempt.

He got bounties from the town and would send Sky or Warriors out on them, often Four as well. They seemed a bit better afterwards, between themselves at least, then whatever camaraderie formed during their time out quickly dissolved.

Wind was doing better, when Legend kept him and Time separated. He enjoyed the hogs that were becoming far more domesticated each day, he taught himself how to handle the goats when Twilight began to avoid them and Legend blamed himself for not realizing that the reminder of home could've been a bad idea for some. Sky enjoyed the cuccos but Twilight hated the goats. Wind was good with the goats, he cared for the two they had, came with Legend to the town and asked another farmer how to shear goat wool and purchased shears to do so. That winter, he did exactly that and Legend took the time to sit him down and show him how to turn that fur into fabric.

Time was doing the worst, constantly snapping at people, tearing them down. He knew the truth, Legend was fairly sure, and that just made it worse. It was the worst whenever he was near Twilight, or Wind or Legend, and Legend was certain it was because he had noticed the similarities between the three of them and someone he knew of his own time, they were his successors after all. Twilight to Malon, Legend would guess his was Zelda, Lullaby, though he wasn't sure at all. He had no idea for Wind. Either way, Time got worse when around them and likewise Twilight and Wind began to get worse when around Time.

Legend didn't know how to fix this. Their team had frayed and he didn't know how to keep them together.

No matter how many blankets he wrapped around crying teens, no matter how many soft or even harsh words he offered, no matter how many blades he sharpened, spars he fought, advice he gave, jobs he assigned, nothing worked.

It was when he sent Sky on a bounty with Warriors and Hyrule that he figured it out.

They came back, and as usual with the few who went on the bounties —Twilight refused to go on any, Time was the same, and Legend wasn't risking sending Wind or Wild to go kill a person— they were closer.

Legend hid in the trees, purple eyes glinting red in the darkness of the shadows, and he heard them tease and laugh as they came up the now well-worn path.

Within three days that dissolved, back at each other's throats and not in a familial way.

Legend finishing weaving a new blanket and embroidering a border on it, a pastime he'd picked up last winter when Wind sheared the goats and had kept since, making sure their fairly large cabin was stocked with warm blankets as winters here got as cold as the champion's Hebra blizzards.

"They need something to stand against," he murmured to the Golden Sword on the hook by the door. She was long gone, but he still talked to her. A habit born from anxiety.

He was bordering the blanket with white waves and seashells, putting secret little telescopes with not-so-secret seagulls. It was for Wind, who'd helped him dye the fabric his apparent favorite shade of blue.

"Zelda mentioned it once," he muttered. "When people don't have something to rally against, they turn on each other, for some of the stupidest reasons too."

He glanced up as he heard Four yelling at Wild over goddesses knew what. He should go break that up.

He put the thread and blanket down and went over to break up another fight.

Goddesses, he was tired of his brothers fighting.

Sky shared a room with Time and Four. Legend had initially intended to put Wind and Warriors with Time but that wasn't an option after Time became volatile toward all three of his successors and Warriors became volatile in general.

Twilight and Wild weren't able to be paired either anymore, so Wild was with Hyrule and Warriors and Legend put himself with Twilight and Wind.

He'd tried an intervention. A meeting with everyone and he laid out what he was seeing—only to be immediately talked over and for yelling and arguing to break out. He had to physically separate Warriors and Sky, again, and force Time to leave Wind alone, as the kid had dared to be optimistic around the others and Time hadn't let that fly for a moment.

It wasn't working.

Legend sat in the window, Wind and Twilight dead asleep inside and the world awake outside. Stars gleaming and the moon shining.

He had a chance here. Something that could work.

Wind felt confused.

He started to understand and accept that, yeah, they weren't going back home, that he'd never see Aryll or Grandma again. He could accept that.

He had to. It's not like they could go back. Time and Four had tried to find a way back home, Sky and Wild had spent weeks praying for the goddesses to give them a way home, they'd tried.

And failed. Nine heroes and they'd failed.

Wind knew Legend was what they had left keeping them together. He knew the others had grown distant, dangerous even as time went on. He knew, when Legend had asked him to be in charge of handling the hogs and later telling him he did a great job of stepping up and taking care of the goats when Twilight didn't, that Legend was trying to keep everyone together. He had, albeit with Twilight's and Warriors's help, turned the run down, abandoned, wooden shack they'd taken to using as shelter into an actual home! When he'd always told them that it was a life on the road for him at that.

So yeah, Wind was confused when the status quo suddenly shifted.

When nobody stopped the fighting that broke out, when nobody left to take care of some bounty for a week or two, when he realized how badly their relationships had gotten in the past two and a half years. The Captain was a face he hardly could find safety in anymore, Time was harmful to be near and he had to purposely avoid the older hero 'less he finds himself in a one sided insult battle that matched the sincerity of the Veteran's and the Captain's earliest matches. Sky used to be a safe space but now he was distant at best, volatile at worst, and occasionally—only when he'd come back from those bounty hunts—his old self.

Wind missed his brothers, but when Legend outright disappeared he freaked out just a bit. That was his last lifeline to safety, to stability.

"Hey Smithy?" Wind poked into the forge.

"Wgat?!" Four snapped, turning those vibrantly ever-changing eyes on him. They used to be a constant storm gray, occasionally flicking through another color or two when tensions or emotions were high, but not always shifting through rainbow like they did these days.

"Have you seen the Vet?" Wind asked, careful not to wince. He wasn't a kid anymore, he couldn't show that kind of weakness, especially not in front of the other heroes.

"Tch, no."

Four glared at the metal in front of him, another expertly crafted sword that would be taken to the town next excursion and sold just like the rest of the extra things they had.

His eyes briefly settled red. "He hasn't bothered me in a few days, finally." In a lowered mutter, a strained one too, he added, "Maybe he finally got the hint that we want to be alone."

Wind grimaced as he looked away. "Thanks anyway."

Four made some comment that Wind decidedly ignored as he left.

Hyrule was by the apiary, fairies had taken to being there too and Wind still remembered the day that they'd set up a little fountain of sugar water—which Hyrule replaced daily. The apiary area was filled with bees and fairies.

"Hey, Traveler? You seen the vet recently?"

Hyrule glanced up. He'd been so silent lately, basically ever since they'd been stuck here, he'd been quiet basically the whole time they'd been stuck here. Wind hated it.

"No," Hyrule admitted.

Wind hummed. He wasn't sure who to turn to when he was worried about someone... not when that someone was Legend. Warriors would snap, Hyrule was distant, Sky could be either, Time hated him for some reason, Twilight...

"You know where Twi is?"

"Not really... I think I saw him with the goats."

Wind raised an eyebrow at that. "What's he doing with my goats?" He muttered to himself as he left Hyrule alone to go to the goat pen.

Twilight was indeed in the goat pen, sitting there and trying to coax the goats to him as they eyed him oddly.

Wind sat on the fence and waited. It was almost sweet. Twilight had been quieter lately, the past couple months or two, he'd been quieter, less likely to snap.

The goats noticed Wind first and abandoned Twilight to run over to him. He laughed softly as he jumped down and pet the animals. Twilight watched and Wind made his way over to his roommate.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey, sailor," Twilight replied, eyes flicking up and down at Wind.

Wind crossed his arms, leaning over on one leg. "Whatcha doin' out here?"

Twilight shrugged. "Just... thinking, I guess."

"Smithy thinking or Traveler thinking?" Wind asked.

"Probably, the Traveler's," Twilight sighed heavily. "You remember the other day, when the vet snapped?"

Wind nodded. It was rather rememberable.

Legend had asked everyone to be inside for dinner that day, saying he wanted to talk to them. Then at dinner, he'd cut off every single argument before they started, prompted Hyrule to talk about the apiary, Wild about the surrounding area and his new hobby of cartography, he tried to get them to talk about nice things, things that made them happy. Then Warriors had snapped first.

"Why do you even bother?!" Time had demanded. "How can you act like this is nice? This is good? That it's all okay?!"

Legend had stared, his hands on the table and visibly still as he looked Time dead in the eyes. "Because someone has to."

And thus began a cut-off lecture from their veteran about how they were acting, how they were treating each other, how awful they'd become. That lecture was interrupted quickly by Time, with Warriors beginning some arguments, then Sky joined in, and soon Four as well. Everyone yelling over each other, Wind trying to intervene with some desperate optimism only to be verbally torn apart by his own childhood hero.

"Yeah," Wind said, back in the present. Twilight hummed. "Why?"

"Just thinkin'... when was the last time we actually just sat down and talked? We did it all the time before," before the end, before they were trapped, "at camp, in inns, on the road. We'd just talk, chat, we... we were close. Now... Now I can't remember the last time I was nice to the champion, to you, to anyone."

Wind thought about it.

Twilight kept going. "You're older too! I don't know—somehow I just—I was thinkin' back and then I saw ya an'... you're sixteen now, right?"

"Almost," Wind shrugged, not admitting he'd been counting to basically adulthood. Sixteen wasn't adult, but it was close enough he'd be taken as one. Especially with his height, scars, and how he was slowly losing the baby fat. "Fifteen, almost sixteen."

"Did we even celebrate?" Twilight sounded almost hysterical. "Yours? Or Cub's? Or even the Traveler's or Smithy's?!"

Wind shook his head. "No..." he admitted quietly. "No, we haven't celebrated anything since we got here. Not summer solstice—not winter solstice, birthdays, nothing."

"How..."

"Rancher," Twilight looked up when Wind prompted him, "I came here 'cause I was wonderin' if you'd seen the Vet lately. I 'aven't seen him in a day or two and neither's Rulie or the Smithy."

Twilight blinked, then concern —concern! Wind hadn't seen any of the other heroes look worried in years— flickered across his face.

"Really?" He asked. "He’s normally somewhere nearby, and's definitely always somewhere inside 'round dinner. Wa'n't he in the room last night?"

Wind shook his head. "No. He wasn't."

Then they heard someone running.

Hyrule all but slammed into the fence of the goat pen. "The Triforce!" He cried. "I-I can sense—It's been taken!"

Wind felt his blood go cold as a sense of dread slammed into him.

The table was chaos as the eight of them gathered inside. Hyrule was the most vocal he had been in months and Warriors arguing with him.

"We buried that thing miles underground! We left traps and—nobody could've gotten to it and the other wielders are still alive!"

"I'm telling you, I sensed it be taken! I am—I was the protector of the Triforce back in my era, I can sense it whenever it's not in someone and—That one's gone!"

"It's impossible! Nobody who didn't know exactly where it was could've found it—"

"What about someone who did?" Four spoke up, eyes distinctly darker, shimmering between midnight violet and deep-ocean blue. "I don't see the Vet here."

"As if!" Wind exclaimed. "He's the only sane person here!"

"Weren't you looking for him earlier?" Four retorted. "Isn't it weird that the moment the Triforce goes missing the guy's nowhere to be seen?"

"He's a hero!"

"Of what?! Nobody's hero's here! We're nobodies from nowhere doing nothing!"

They were interrupted by someone banging on the door. They all looked up but nobody moved.

Sky sighed and went to get the door.

"Oh thank the goddesses!" Wind recognized one of the villagers. It was the one who helped him learn how to shear goats. "There's some kind of mage attacking the town!"

The heroes shared a look.

"Show us," Time ordered.

There were a series of attacks, spanning across the whole of this Hyrule. People were able to escape for the most part, but there were burns and injuries everywhere.

Wind didn’t get it. It was like another adventure had begun, but neither the current hero of courage or wielder of wisdom were even called to fight. Wild and Hyrule had gone to check on them, both were happily living in the capital of this not-quite-a-kingdom, which hadn't even been attacked.

It seemed to be going for them.

Legend was still missing, and it freaked Wind out. Legend had been the main one to set the traps for the Triforce. He wondered if Legend had set some kind of spell that would alert him if someone came too close and had gone to handle it alone, and failed.

Twilight had stepped up. They were back in adventure gear and it surprised Wind how quickly things began to set back into... well, harmony. Twilight had asked Wind to give him and Wild a bit and so Wind spent half the night on the sofa, reading some book about... apples? He wasn't sure. It was one he'd seen Legend read a lot. Then Twilight and Wild were better. They found themselves fighting lots of armos and other magical golems, and battle had its way of working out problems within a team.

Warriors and Time made up, Time stopped snapping at Wind and Twilight, Four's eyes slowly stopped constantly changing color and settled back into that slate gray.

Wind figured out why.

"I think this is why we're still here," Sky whispered to him one night.

"The goddesses needed us to fix this new problem too, so they didn't send us home yet?" Wind guessed, looking up at the stars. He'd be rather close to Outset Island if he were in his Hyrule, based off the constellations above them.

"Yeah," Sky murmured softly. "I think so."

Hyrule had came back out of his shell as he began to worry and chastise everyone for their wounds again, him and Warriors falling back into their old place as medics.

Even Wind was feeling more like himself. He hadn't kept his skills sharpened and he'd grown considerably since he last fought, but Warriors had been more than happy to help and Wind found himself falling asleep with a blue scarf over his shoulders just like old times.

The only thing that was missing was their veteran, flames and ice accompanying a singing golden blade, rhythmic steps and quiet humming during and outside of battle. Sharp quips and retorts that lessened the tension.

They found a trail. It hadn't taken long, a couple months at most, before they discovered the golems and armos were coming from some ancient tower.

They made their way there, stopping forest fires, holding off hordes of magically-created monsters, and just getting closer again.

"You know," Wild said one night as they could see that temple in the distance, gleaming with powerful magic. "I... Don't make me be the one to say it."

"Say what?" Hyrule looked confused.

"The Veteran."

Hyrule suddenly looked away, not responding.

Wild sighed, his head dropped down as he settled his distant eyes on the fire in front of him. "Exactly."

"What do you mean?" Warriors asked, clearly a bit more calm than the months, years, before these outbreaks.

"The vet set half the traps that protected the Triforce," Four said, almost deadpan but the red that overtook his eyes briefly over the steel gray betrayed him. "I know I suggested he betrayed us before but— I think... he was always paranoid, so I wouldn't put it past him to set some kind of alarm. And for how we were all acting..."

Wind startled a bit. He hadn't expected anyone to acknowledge their change in mannerisms, yet here Four was…

"He may have gone to check it out alone, and..." Four trailed off weakly.

A haunting tune fell over the air, Wind went rigid while Hyrule shot up.

Everyone was dead silent. Not a sound passed as they listened to the haunting tune, their hands settled on blades.

"Oh, I went there alone," a completely unfamiliarly cold tone in an extremely familiar voice cut through the air.

The tune stopped. Everyone turned and stared at their missing hero.

"Vet!" Wind gaped. "Where—"

Hyrule stopped him. "Why do you have the Triforce of Power, Veteran?" He demanded.

Legend hummed, plucking the strings of some golden lute. The notes rang through the air, but no clear tune was being made anymore. "Because, Traveler. I wanted it."

"What." Time pulled Twilight back a bit as he stepped toward the front. "Why?"

Legend shot him a cold look. Wind hated that look in his eyes. "I was tired. I am tired. I thought I could handle it, I thought I could deal with my whole life being ended and uprooted again, but no. If the goddesses want to play like this, then let's play."

Wind hated how Legend's left hand glowed, only missing a single triangle before it was complete. He hated how his eyes seemed more golden than usual. He hated how the last person he thought he could find safety in suddenly radiated danger in a way even Time hadn’t the past two and a half years.

"You're behind all this?!" Sky tightened his grip on the Master Sword as he spoke. "You—You've been attacking all these people?!"

Legend shrugged. "They're just pawns in the goddess's game. Pawns can get upgraded, I'm eliminating future threats."

Wind wanted to throw up. Warriors was the first one to lunge, but Legend slipped away, a song fell over the air and Legend disappeared.

"What?!"

"He... He betrayed us."

"How could he?"

The final battle was horrible.

They had to stop him, Wind reminded himself. They marched their way up the temple and fought off the dozens of golems and armos that attacked them. They found Legend at the very top, playing that haunting tune again on a pink ocarina.

"Stop," Time ordered. "That's enough, Veteran. It's over."

The crystal-clear notes came to an end but Legend kept his back to them. "You know what I was told once, by the goddess's Oracle herself? I was told I'd be the greatest of all heroes, known for centuries to come, longer than any other. You know what lasts longer than gratitude? Than love?"

He turned and a dose of terror shot down Wind's spine as he saw the cold smirk playing on an emotionless face.

"Fear. Fear lasts generations beyond gratitude,” Legend hummed. A golden power curled around him visibly.

"How could you?!" Hyrule cried, stepping forward. "You're—You're a hero! The Legendary Hero! How can you—Just turn on everything you've done? How can you turn on us?!"

Legend scoffed. "Turn on you guys? It was easier than you'd think." He looked back at the sky. "I doubt you'd get it. Do you realize how hard it is to watch all of the few people you have left deteriorate? Watch them become shells of their former selves, angry at everything? At the world and its inhabitants? Watch them become horrible to interact with? Watch the ones who chose to become filled with anger completely destroy what the ones who became sad, depressive shells had left? DO YOU REALIZE HOW AWFUL YOU WERE TO EACH OTHER?!"

Wind flinched and he felt them all step back.

That cold front that Legend had completely melted and was replaced by a roaring, blazing heated anger. Near immediately as it came, it was cooling back by an avalanche of that cold front yet again.

"I'm doing this because I can, Traveler," Legend spat, blazing heat falling to a simmer and then a frigid chill. "I'm doing this because I want to."

"I don't understand," Wind whispered weakly, his voice strained and his voice choked.

"You wouldn't," Legend responded and Wind flinched at the underhanded jab. "None of you would. It doesn't matter though."

He put the ocarina away and drew a familiar golden sword, that golden magic coalesced to that sword and it gleamed.

"You won't be here long enough for it to matter."

Legend was the one who attacked first.

Warriors stepped forward to meet him.

Wind found himself having to fight his brother to restore peace to Hyrule.

Wind realized how powerful the older… former hero was as they fought. How he fought as if he were dancing to some tune none of them could hear, each movement to a beat but still unpredictable despite that consistency. Blades slammed and magic was everywhere, Wind helped where he could but only so many of them could engage at once and he ended up falling back and taking out his bow like Wild had.

Legend was winning. Somehow, he was winning against them all, Time was hanging from the edge of the tower and Twilight was the one keeping him from falling, audibly begging the older hero to hold on and not let go. Wind ran over to help just as Warriors was thrown into a broken pillar, and Wild had quickly moved to fill in the place that had fallen empty while Hyrule darted to Warriors's side.

Four was driven back and Sky staggered. Wild was thrown into Four and it was just Sky and Legend fighting.

Wind and Twilight got Time back onto the top of the tower as Sky and Legend dueled at a speed and with skill that none of them could intervene. Even arrows shot could hit Sky rather than Legend.

Golden light exploded off them and Wind covered his eyes.

He heard Sky cry out, a scream, and as soon as he could he looked.

Sky was hugging Legend, who had the Master Sword embedded in his chest. Blood trickled from the edge of his mouth.

“Why?!” Sky begged, cradling Legend against him. “You didn’t have to do this! You didn’t—Why did you do this? It never had to come to this, Vet.” Sky sobbed, hugging Legend even as the fallen hero slowly lost the color in his skin.

He laughed, Legend laughed softly and he smiled. He glanced at Wind and Twilight and Time, his eyes flicked over to Wild and Four helping each other up, to Warriors leaning on Hyrule.

"Don't... do it again," he slurred. "You... You're brothers... re... remember to act li'e it."

"What?" Sky questioned softly. They all gathered closer.

"It worked," Legend laughed again, a soft and relieved thing. "You... You worked together... you were nice... happy even... I knew... I knew it... it would work."

"What would work?" Sky asked frantically, he laid Legend down and their fallen brother's face contorted in pain at the movement at the sword being pulled from his chest.

Legend let out a shaky breath. Wind felt a few tears fall down his cheeks and then felt a pair eyes on him.

"Knew... that if... if you had something to... fight against... you wouldn't... fight each other. Peace... peace only... brings infighting." Legend smiled. He smiled softly at the sky above, dazed, slowly dulling eyes shifting from them to the sky. "Don't do it again."

Wind sobbed, his legs buckling. Hyrule dove forward, trying to heal Legend. He felt arms wrap around his shoulders, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to see whose they were.

"No! No, Vet— Don't—"

"You did all that to make us stop fighting?" Warriors breathed, sounding horrified. His voice came from right behind Wind’s head.

"No..." Twilight took a step back.

Legend grinned at them, blood in his teeth and a clear happiness in dimming eyes. "It worked... no more hidin' in the forge... or the apiary... n'more tearin' the rancher or sailor down... n'more fightin'... s'all I wan'ed. All I... wanted. Rule, it won' work. Fi don' heal easy."

"No!" Hyrule cried. "A potion! Please— Vet you can't just... You can't!"

"Mmm... tol' me that... 'hen I fough' Ganon... an' won. I'll do i' if I wan'."

Wind watched Legend fade, eyes settling distantly on the stars above, had it not been for seeing the light leave his eyes, Wind could’ve believed that Legend had just been stargazing.

Legend knew what he was doing when he sat by the window, when he realized what had to be done in order for them to... to come back to themselves.

In order for him to not have to keep an alert and a watch spell on the kitchen at all times, to have one on the forge itself. He knew what had to be done to stop his brothers from pushing each other to their limits.

He had to get them to rally against something. But nothing powerful enough would come anytime soon for them to face...

He glanced back at Wind and Twilight and their sleeping forms. He glanced back outside before he moved inside, grabbed his pouches and hat and sword from his bedside and then dropped out the window.

He didn't regret his decision even as he set a mostly evacuated town ablaze, curbing the flames from truly destroying everything or killing anyone, but doing plenty harm and damage.

He didn't regret his decision when he saw them fight his ever-growing army of golems and armos, watching each other's backs and protecting each other.

He didn't regret his decision when they sat around a campfire while trying to track down the cause of the situation (him), yet had laughed and teased. Though they grew somber at his absence, they were themselves.

Hyrule wasn't eyeing the rooftop.

Four wasn't giving a longing gaze at the forge fires.

Wild wasn't staring at the knife he used to prepare dinner before continuing cooking.

Warriors wasn't twitching his hand toward his sword whenever Sky spoke to him.

Time wasn't constantly degrading Twilight and Wind.

Sky wasn't always ready to fight one of them to the death.

Wind wasn't asking why they even bothered to live anymore.

They were themselves, a bit older, a bit more hurt and strained, but they were themselves for the first time in almost three years.

Legend didn't regret his decision even as he faced them at the top of some ancient tower, temple, that he'd taken over.

He didn't regret his decision as he fought them all off.

He especially didn't regret it as Sky buried Fi's blade through his chest.

He looked over them, how Sky’s eyes filled with tears, how Twilight pulled Wild to his chest and the slightly younger hero broke into sobs in his mentor’s hold, how Warriors pulled Wind slightly back from where he’d crumbled to the ground and buried his own face in his hair.

He regretted the pain he put them in, he knew that.

He did not regret the wake-up call this would hopefully be. He would sacrifice his life a thousand times over, his integrity, his reputation, everything.

He would give it all just to help them, for the chance, that they would at least try to be themselves.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #legend lu #fanfic #lu hyrule #lu wild #lu warriors #lu four #lu sky #lu time #lu wind #lu twilight #implied suicide ideation #major character death

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thepinkproof · 2 years

Text

REIGN OF TERROR

chapter eight

You were born for him, he just knows it and you’re the only one who can cure him.

Genre: Yandere!Vampire Jungkook x Reader - a 10 chapter series inspired by Tangled and Beauty and the Beast

Warnings: yandere behavior, suicidal attempts and talks, violence, eventual smut, DEATH, reader is not mentally stable, slight cursing, misogyny

Taglist: @silversparkles11 @mwitsmejk @outro-kook @bishuthot @kooliv @syunchl @lauritakamaki @ash07128 @darkuni23 @era-genius @doublebunv @etsuko-99 @bbl32 @hoseoks7swrld @sweetbtsfoever @bxbyyyjocelyn @crazy-eight17 @mageprincess7 @devilsbooksworld @breadgeniedope @cara-18 @yourtmblrgirlfriend @sleepy-time-dreamy @angelarin @faerikitty @iloverubberduckiez-blog

word count: 5.3k

Series Masterlist| Next

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The television played her favorite show and the curtains were bright and sunny but none had her attention. She was anxious, sort of scared, she had confidence in him, she really did.

She wondered if something went wrong. She waited for Jungkook to walk through the door happily and hug her saying that he was victorious.

Jungkook was strong, she had heard the stories. If he won today she knew nobody will be able to stop him. He would likely live his long vampire life ending all his enemies.

The thought of it strangely frighten her. She didn't want him to win for the power, she wanted him to win so he could share his happiness with her.

If he lost everything would likely stay the same since he currently wasn’t king, but the chance of him loosing is low.

For a second she imagined him losing. If she really thought about it he would hate to lose. It would kill his confidence. He would no longer be arrogant, he would likely fall into a deep depression. Everyday he would wish he was better, stronger, and smarter.

He would finally know his place. He wouldn't control her anymore. She liked the thought for a second.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door open. "Jungkook!" She exclaimed.

But it wasn't Jungkook. It was her servant Alana who usually lightly knocked before opening the door. Nevertheless, Y/n was excited to see her.

"Lani, there you are! You're early today. Did the fight already end? I need to see Jungkook." She rambled.

Alana gazed at her with a weird look Y/n regconized. It was the way Jungkook looked at her sometimes. "I- I just- Yes, the fight has ended."

Y/n looked at Alana in confusion, she could tell something was bothering her but also something had liberated her. "Where is he?" She asked once again.

Alana gave Y/n a forced smile and put her hands on Y/n's shoulder. "I'll explain everything m'lady. I'll have a guard bring you outside to meet me."

"You are aware that I can't go outside. Jungkook he wouldn't-"

"Enough about him!" Alana raised her voiced. Y/n stepped back in shock. "Just trust me."

For the first time Y/n didn't trust her. Nevertheless, she simply nodded her head.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taehyung silently thanked a higher being that they were in a secured abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods. Jungkook let out loud groans of pain as Taehyung struggled to operate him.

"If we're going to accomplish anything here you have to stop moving!" Taehyung scolded him.

"That bitch! I need to kill her. She can't take Y/n from me! I deserve her. She loves me!" Jungkook screamed in a hoarse voice.

"And you can't do nothing right now if you won't calm down! She used some rare potion on you I've never seen before. You are healing extremely slow. It's going to scar."

"The Middlemist Red. It's a rare flower that is Y/n's only weakness. I drunk her blood which is why it's hurting me." Jungkook explained.

Taehyung sighed. "In that case you need human blood to flush out the poison." He put his hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "I'll get you some, just rest." He said sensing his friend's weakness.

Taehyung never really had a problem drinking human blood. He enjoyed it actually. But he always drunk only what he needed. It was his friends Yoongi and Jungkook who would drink an excess of it. It was said the more you drink, the stronger you would become.

Of course, it always have it's downsides. You could become drunk with blood and Yoongi and Jungkook was always drunk. It made them ruthless, immature and untameable.

He was always the calm one of the three. He was always the one to clean up the mess. He just hope now that Jungkook wouldn't return to his old ways and drink too much blood.

As Taehyung prepared to leave he heard rustling in the bushes. Fearing very little he made his way outside to detect the noise, but his nose detected it before his hearing.

"Jimin." He mumbled. As soon as he said his name Jimin vampsped in front of him.

"How did you find us?" Taehyung quickly asked.

"Are you forgetting we met here when I brought you Y/n to give to Jungkook?" Jimin reminded him making his way towards the cabin door.

Taehyung's stronger hand stopped him. "Where do you think you're going?" He said in a deep, threatening voice.

"To check on him. If you haven't noticed things aren't going well in this world and we need him alive." Jimin hissed.

"Jungkook's own servant and brother betrayed him today. I need your loyalty." Taehyung demanded.

"And you have it. Do you know what Alana is doing right now?" Jimin asked. Taehyung looked at him dumbfounded. "She has a vampire army waiting outside the castle to attack the humans."

Taehyung scoffed. "Is not that not exactly what Jungkook planned? Why would you be against it now?"

"The love of my life is there, Taehyung. Jungkook and Miriam had an agreement that he would only kill the guilty and then peace will occur. None of us want a war." Jimin explained. Taehyung could see in his eyes that he was worried for Miriam.

"Fine. I'm sorry for the interrogation. Watch and make sure he doesn't move until I come back."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Alana smiled from her carriage as she watched her guards bring Y/n to her. She thought it was cute as Y/n stared around curiously at the people bowed down to her.

She didn't plan to fall in love with Y/n. But once it happen she couldn't resist it, her beauty, her curiosity and her kindness. She was special.

At first, she thought it was nice that Jungkook brought you here, that he saved her. But when she saw she were actually a prisoner, that he lied, that he hurt her. She couldn't stand back and watch.

Everyone deserves a choice, even if the choice might hurt them.

"What is all this?" Y/n asked her.

Alana gave her a big smile. "Come in the carriage. I know it's pretty old and humans have cars these days but it's a tradition for vampire war time." She nervously rambled.

"War time? We're in war?” Y/n asked not moving.

"I'll explain everything just come in."

Y/n listened and made her way into the carriage that was tinted and private. She looked at Alana as she awaited for her to speak.

Alana was terribly nervous. "Y/n, I am the Queen of all vampires now, and soon all beings."

Y/n's face folded in confusion. "Queen? Has Jungkook chosen you as his Queen? Are you guys-"

"No!" Alana quickly interrupted in disgust. "Y/n I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I defeated him in battle for the kingship. I'm not sure but I believe he- I believe he is dead."

Y/n blinked her eyes in shock. She didn't know what to feel. Was this some joke?

Surprisingly, she didn't feel much remorse for Jungkook. She tried to search for some indication that she was sad. But in reality she felt relieved.

Jungkook scared her, stressed her out even. He was confusing.

But now she felt an underwhelmed. If Jungkook is gone who will love her?

"Oh." Y/n mumbled looking down at her lap. "Why did you fight against him? Y-You were on Jin side this whole time?" She asked disappointment laced in her voice.

"I'll tell you everything m'lady." She said as she held Y/n's chin towards her. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at her touch. She wasn't use to Alana being so close to her. Seeing her discomfort she quickly let go of her chin.

"About six centuries ago my Grandmother and Grandfather was King and Queen of all Vampires. My grandfather had a servant who was a Jeon. Seeing his loyalty and devotion, Jeon and my grandfather became best friends. But the vampires were forming an rebellion against my grandfather. One by one people started to betray him. People didn't approve of his treatment to humans, since they were slaves to the vampire.

But he always trusted Jeon more than anyone. Jeon just didn't betray my grandfather. He killed him and my grandmother and declared himself as King.

But my grandparents' child saw him do it. When he saw the small child he didn't have the heart to kill him. Instead he made him a servant, ironic right? They erased this story from the history books, along with my family name. And that is how the Min line went from royalty to peasants.

Before the Jeons stole the rulership humans were slaves. For awhile , the Jeons somehow still let humans live normally, just killing the ones they wanted blood from. Jungkook's mom was the nicest to those creatures and that's when my family knew we had to take over again.

We remained civil because we thought Jungkook would bring back human slavery and he was close, but yet he failed." Alana scoffed.

The way she spoke told Y/n everything she needed to know. Alana spoke with hostility everytime she mentioned the name Jeon. She was used to Alana being calm most of the time, yet telling her story brought out an angry feeling of injustice to her.

"You said Min line. Yoongi was a Min wasn't he?" Y/n hesitantly asked.

Alana quickly looked away. "Yes he was my cousin. We planned to take over together. Hence the reason he attacked me that night at the library. I am thankful that you killed him m'lady. I wanted the kingship to myself and I knew eventually he would betray me." Alana admitted.

Y/n quickly scooted away from Alana in disbelief. "So you lied to me. You two insinuated you were former lovers. You used me. You told me I could trust you Alana. How could you use me for your own personal agenda? I thought you were my friend." Y/n cried, betrayed at her friend's action.

Alana shook her head profusely as she watched her friends visibly shake. Y/n knew that Jungkook had bad intentions but she would have never thought Alana would do this.

"No no no m'lady. I couldn't tell you the truth because at the time Jungkook would kill me. I was weak before I met you. Jungkook he has manipulated you! He's the one whose using you! I only wanted to free you! I drunk your blood so I can free you m'lady. I never lied to you." She rambled grabbing Y/n's arm hoping she believed.

"I've should've known. I saw your picture on Jungkook's ceiling. You grew up with him and Yoongi. You told me you were turned into a vampire when you're a purebred. Why lie about such a thing?" Y/n yelled in disbelief pushing Alana's hand off her body.

"I am a purebred younger than Yoongi and Jungkook but I stopped aging at 18, most vampires stop aging later. Because of that many people already considered me defected. I needed you to think I was weak and helpless for when the time came you would give me your blood." She revealed.

Y/n started to panic as her breath seemed to leave her body. "I don't want to be here with you. I want Jungkook back. Why would you do this to me?"

"M'lady." She said grabbing Y/n's hand. Y/n looked at her with disgust. But Alana had already won today so she was confident. "I love you. Not in the selfish way Jungkook love you but in the way that I can't sleep at night unless I know you're okay. I want to be gentle to you, I want to wake up beside you every day, I want to spoil you." She admitted tears coming out her eyes.

Y/n's mouth dropped. She brought her face closer to Alana's. "You think you're better than him? You two are the same. Willing to lie and use me for power." She whispered with and harshly pushed Alana way.

"You don't feel the same way about me." Alana asked blinking tears out her eyes.

"I don't know what love is Alana." She said in a calm but cold voice.

The air grew thin as the small carriage was silent. Only sound heard was the horses strong legs pushing against the ground.

Alana cleared her throat. "I brought you here because we are going to enslave the humans once and for all, starting with the castle. Y/n I know you hate me but you are strong. I don't want you to hide your power, I-I want you to use it." She proposed.

Y/n stared out the tinted window. "Can't anyone see? I don't care about war or politics. I just want to wake up one day and think I'm more than a weapon or a toy to everyone." She murmured.

Alana wanted to scream that she never thought of Y/n as such. That she was not like Jungkook. But she knew it wouldn't help.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jimin and Taehyung watched as Jungkook sucked a random man's blood. It was no secret they were quite irritated with him.

"Mmm, forgot the taste of human blood." He moaned with blood dripping down his lips. He pushed the guy away from him. "Do you two want any?"

Taehyung rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No thank you master." Jimin answered more politely than Taehyung.

"You didn't drain the victim dry? Progress." Taehyung said sarcastically.

"I said I forgot the taste, not crave it. My Y/n's blood is the only blood i crave." Jungkook acknowledged wiping the blood with his sleeve.

"Now, it's time to get my angel back into my arms and kill the bitch that took her from me." He exclaimed with a new found energy.

"Are you kidding Jungkook? You still haven't got all your power back. Alana beat you at your full potential, she will kill you in seconds." Taehyung reminded him in an annoyed tone.

"That's because she drunk from Y/n. In fact, she couldn't even beat me sword to sword. She used the flower on me. But what do you expect from a woman." Jungkook laughed.

Taehyung bit his lip as he was thinking. "Alana was able to have the flower on her skin. I saw it when she put her sword on her thigh. I didn't think much of it but she must be immune." He realized.

"I bet she has a lot of secrets. I thought I could trust her since she was Yoongi's cousin." Jungkook sighed. He snapped his fingers as he made a new discovery. "That book Y/n had! I didn't even think to see who she got it from. I was too mad that she lied to me. Alana must of gave it to her. She must have known about Y/n's species and weakness for a long time."

Taehyung scoffed. "Can you not see? It's a repeated pattern Jungkook. Admit it! Alana outsmarted you because you were too busy having fun with your pet and being a selfish, overconfident bastard." Taehyung shouted at Jungkook.

"Watch your tone Taehyung." Jungkook seethed. "I'll admit it okay! I underestimated Alana. But now is not the time to hate me. Alana has an army right now with orders to enslave humans. I personally don't care about the enslavement of humans but I made a deal with you Jimin." He looked over to Jimin. "I intend to be a better king and keep my alliances. Love me or hate me, you need me if you want to stop her." He smirked.

"You can't do it alone. We must not underestimate her again." Taehyung sighed.

"And we won't. How would you like to be the new third member of the ruthless three Jimin?" Jungkook asked the boy with a mischievous grin.

Jimin smiled. "Oh it will be an honor."

Jimin knew very well that Jungkook wasn't the best king. He was the most legendary and perhaps powerful one but he had alot of flaws. Like everyone in the vampire kingdom, he was raised to respect and serve whose in lead regardless.

He hoped Jungkook stays true to his deal but he also know that he only truly cared about Miriam. All he wanted was her safe.

"Great." He mumbled. "Now for you." Jungkook drawled looking at the weak human man who could barely stand.

Putting his hands on his shoulder he looked at the man in his eyes. "Thank you for your service." Jungkook's fangs hissed at him before taking a big bite from his neck killing him.

"Seriously!" Taehyung yelled. "You could have compelled him to go home."

"Yeah you're right. But unfortunately we have a war to end."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It took over a day for the carriage to arrive at the Chancellor's House. Those hours were quiet for Alana and Y/n, but surprisingly not the uncomfortable silence.

Y/n stared at the window most of the day enjoying the scenery. It was like a movie to her. While Alana discussed plans with different generals in her army.

Alana hopped out of the carriage with her army all around her waiting for orders. It was erie that no humans were seen on sight.

Alana knew very well that the Chancellor's house was the busiest and most populated place on Earth for humans. It was no way it was this quiet unless they had a heads up.

To be fair, they did drive on a carriage. Despite having a lack of food and basic needs, humans had the technology. It was no doubt they had cameras, or prehaps trackers, that forseen this moment.

Most vampires didn't use advanced technology. The turned ones had no problem using it since they were already accustomed. But the most an average vampire would have is a washing machine. Some had phones or old television but most didn't trust anything created by a human.

Y/n followed Alana out the carriage. Alana gave her a smile, happy that she followed her. Reaching out her holster she pulled out a small knife. "I know it's not much but take it. Just in case you need it." She insisted.

"No thank you." She mumbled. Alana eyes lingered on Y/n seeing that she was still mad. Nevertheless, she put the knife in Y/n’s hand.

She took a huge sigh before looking at her army. "You will not attack until I order." She yelled in an authoritative voice.

Everyone's eyes drew attention as heels clacked down the staircase.

Her face was confident, in fact amused at the scene before her. "Y/n, proper grooming and suitable clothing fits you well." She jeered.

Y/n ignored her remark as she tried to stay calm. Being back here at the Chancellor's House brought out disturbing feelings for her. She couldn't believe she stayed in the basement of this huge building for 20 years. She couldn't believe that these people all knew and allowed it.

She hated all of them and she wanted nothing more than revenge. It's not liked she cared about human and vampire affairs, she just couldn't stand the fact the people who did this to her are content, well and free.

Scarlett eyed Alana like she was looking at a strange object. "Hm. I've never seen you before. A child in armor, I was expecting Jungkook." She said in a disappointed voice.

Alana took a couple steps forward to show she was in charge. "Jungkook is no longer in control of our race, I am. I am the one who will brutally capture your people if you do not surrender. The time of human freedom is over. Your people was meant to only be a drink for us, not disobedient and intolerant creatures. The Jeon line showed you mercy, I will not." Alana boomed.

Scarlett snickered, unimpressed at Alana's presence. "I will admit you must be smart and strong to take down the mighty Jungkook but you are also young and inexperienced. Chancellor Namjoon is righteous and deserving , he will always lead his people into salvation. Our freedom is because of his braveness."

Alana scoffed. "Do you think I and others not know who you are? You use to be a hero; the girl who warned Jungkook about his sickness. But after that you became a joke. You betrayed your own people just to be with the humans. Join us and be on the right side for once Scarlett." Alana stormed.

"Why do vampires think they are so harmful with their abnormal fangs, compulsion and superspeed? Do you not think humans haven't matched the power in technology yet?" Scarlett chuckled before waving her hand.

Suddenly a loud sounded boomed and smoke filled the air. Y/n reflexively turned around as she saw some vampires burning in fire from the bomb. Ashes on the once green grass.

Alana looked over to Y/n to see if she was harmed. Seeing that she wasn't she went on to give her orders. "Attack." She screamed as the remaining of he people let out a war cry and ran in the castle.

Everything around her was dark from the remaining smoke coming from the bombs but the only light she saw was dark red eyes staring at her.

"Oh Y/n. You ran away and suddenly Jungkook is gone. It's almost like you did the job for us. Now that you proven you are the child of death, i think you are no longer needed." Scarlett laughed.

"Are you forgetting I can't be killed?” Y/n reminded her.

"Perhaps we should freeze you like your savior for our people can see you are no threat, just a blood bank and a weapon in war." She shouted.

Y/n watched as her eyes as they vamp-sped in circles around Y/n. It was a form of intimidation before an attack. She quickly got out the knife holding it tightly in her hand preparing for Scarlett attack.

Scarlett finally appeared in front of her and hissed out her fangs. Y/n used this opportunity to stab her with the knife in her heart.

"Hm. Nice move. Would've did some damage if it was a wooden knife." Scarlett snickered. She removed the knife from her body like it was a piece of lint and tossed it to the side.

In seconds, she speeded Y/n away from the scene and into an empty room.

Alana finally seeing the scene speeded towards the direction of the two girls, entering the room.

"Y/n!" She yelled in desperation. Y/n grunted as Scarlett pushed her to the ground.

Scarlett paid no attention, keeping her eyes on Alana. Her heels clicked as she walked around the room. "You see our people don't really need to die. All it takes is a discussion, or fight between the leaders of both to really save the both of our people."

"Then where is Chancellor Namjoon. Is he not the leader of all humans?" Alana spit back.

"Yes, but we both know women are more sensible than men. It's the men who get their strength from fighting, women like us are strong because we know how to think. Now tell me, why enslave the humans when you already mercilessly steal their blood?" Scarlett asked crossing her arms.

"Humans have been fighting back and running. Vampires only have enough blood in our system to survive. We want more. And your people just won't give up." Alana answered.

Scarlett scoffed. "And humans only have enough food to survive. But yet were still alive just like the vampires. So take your people and leave because you do not want to fight me. I can foretell some events of the future and I see you walking away.”

"You must not know me well." Alana grinned before speeding towards Scarlett. In seconds Scarlett threw Alana against the wall.

Alana immediately got up and the two women began fighting. It was unguessable who had the advantage as one second Scarlett would be on the floor and the next Alana would be in pain.

Y/n felt useless watching them fight. Now would be the perfect opportunity to run. She could leave right now, nobody will catch her since everyone was fighting. She could have the free life she always dreamed of.

But she didn't want to leave Alana. She don't think she could live without knowing if she won or not. She wouldn't describe this feeling as love but she cared.

Alana had Scarlett in a chokehold. "Ignoring all that human blood have made you weak. You can pretend all you want, you will always be a bloodthirsty creature like us." Alana seethed.

With a huge push Scarlett banged Alana head to the floor and released herself from the hold. Alana charged at her again but she threw her small body to the wall. "Stupid girl. I have Y/n's blood in my veins. I don't crave human blood like a vampire." Scarlett revealed.

Alana looked at Y/n for an explanation but Y/n herself was confused. She froze for a second as she furrowed her eyebrows. "I never gave you any of my blood." Y/n argued.

Scarlett only smirked, not saying anything waiting for Y/n to figure out on her own. "The blood tests Hobi gave me. You were never testing it. You used it for yourself." Y/n realized.

"Bingo! Now, all those years consuming her blood. How stupid you are thinking you can defeat me? I won't lie I was expecting Jungkook so I can easily kill the man, but you will do." Scarlett said.

Y/n looked at Alana who had little strength. It was no way she could beat Scarlett. She felt hopeless for her. She didn't want to watch her die.

"Enough!" A loud voiced echoed through the room. All eyes was on Namjoon as he glared at Scarlett.

"Namjoon, if I beat her the vampires will lose. This war is inevitable. Everything will be back to normal. You will have Y/n captured again and be Chancellor." She explained desperation written all on her face and voice.

Namjoon eyes were teary as he shook his head. "Look what all this have turned you into. She is an innocent girl. We won't break our morals for salvation anymore!" He yelled at her.

Scarlett said no words as she stared at Alana like a cat to a mouse. Namjoon seeing this looked back at the two girls. "Go, both of you."

Y/n ran to help Alana up. Alana wrapped her arm around her shoulder for support as the two of them got out the room the fastest they could.

Y/n was leading the two of them to the carriage but Alana halted. "We can't leave Y/n. I would look weak if I left my people at a battle I started."

Y/n ignored her but soon tripped over an object making both of then fall. Seeing what it was she shrieked and quickly stood up. It was then she saw that the whole hallway was full of dead bodies. Some human and some vampires.

"We have to go." Alana reminded her.

Y/n breath became shaky as she looked at the body. She slowly shook her head. "He's here I can feel it. This was his doing." Y/n started. "Examine the bodies. The puncture is all on the same place of the neck. The Omohyoid is his favorite place to bite, he bit me there." She further explained.

Alana looked at the bodies, confirming Y/n's theory. She believed her, she would always believe her. Alana mouth slightly opened when she realized one of the bodies were moving

"M'lady look!" She shouted. The two of them quickly went over to the body. "I-It's my general." Alana said in a low voice of sadness.

"My Queen." He said in a hoarse voice.

Alana shook her head in disbelief, she knew he was dying. "I-I'll avenge you." She grumbled.

"N-No no no. You m-must leave. Our people are joining Jungkook. They are killing the ones loyal to you." He wailed in a low voice. Alana quickly nodded even though the truth hurt.

It hurt her to see her own people dying. Alana has always loved her people, she would do anything for them. She grew up not having any sympathy for humans. But Y/n was different she wasn't human. Y/n felt like the only means of peace to her. She wasn't as light and innocent as the day but she also wasn't as dark and petrifying as the night.

The only people of her own kind she hated was Jungkook. When Jungkook seem like he was on the right path she admired him for a moment and was willing to put her hate aside. But like always in her eyes, he failed.

"H-He's back w-worst than ever." The man sputtered before his head dropped down and his eyes became frozen as ice and died.

The air felt heavy as they both sat in silence. Y/n was the first to break the ice. "Alana if you stay he will kill you. You have to leave." Y/n said still staring at the body.

Alana let out a low scoff. "Of course you want me to leave." She let out a soft sniffle which made Y/n look at her. She was crying. "You love him. I saw how your eyes lit up when you found out Jungkook was alive." She accused.

"He saved me from this exact building we're sitting in. I can't help to feel something for him but it is not love Alana. I love no one!" Y/n raised her voice irritated at her.

"Not even me." Alana croaked. Y/n could see that she was heartbroken. It hurt even more that Y/n didn't respond to her. "He hurt you. He only like you because of your blood. He keeps you isolated from everyone." Alana went on in disbelief.

"Haven't you noticed? My life has already been decided for me since parturition. I don't have choices! I'm barely even real Alana. I'm nothing more than a creature to help others. I can't live in enjoyment like a human nor can I hunt and enjoy power like a vampire. I'm not meant to have a life." Y/n cried.

Alana wiped away her tears collecting herself. "It's awful you feel that way about yourself." She said in a dissapointed voice. "Which is why I'm giving you a choice. I will leave because I know its best for me, but I want you to decide whats best for you. This is the very last of the Middlemist Red I took it from the lab before I left. My family has been growing it for years, and I have consumed it enough to be immune. Jungkook is strong so if you are to kill him you must lace the stake with all of this. I know you can do it if your heart desires. If not than you can simply discard the serum and you and Jungkook can be happy without him hurting you." She handed Y/n the small tube and Y/n quickly put in in her pocket.

Alana got up giving Y/n a smile as she stared into her eyes.

"Will I see you again Alana?" Y/n asked her. She didn't want Alana to leave but she knew the truth. She was hurt from her battle was Scarlett and had no backup. She only had her strong will and a broken heart left.

Alana wanted Y/n to come with her but she knew the harsh truth. Jungkook would always look for her.

"Only if you want to." Alana said in a quiet voice. She looked at Y/n one more time before speeding off.

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