#and who taught him that? who forced him into that? that’s right. the biggest monster around.

[magicicephoenix]

i need to go pound joey drew into a pulp RIGHT NOW

#diction dump #joey drew #batim #HIS SPEECH AT TBE END OF BATDR MAKES ME JDLABRLELWL #SCREAMINF AT TVE SCREEN #JUST SHUT!! UPP!!! #okay i’m normal now. i hate him so much #he praises audrey about being his first creation of life when the ink demon is literally RIGHT THERE. #like. do you want to be good or not?? of course bendy kills you! you’re being an asshole! you suck!! #oh my godd i need to fling him around a room ragdoll style. crush him into smithereens. rrrgrghh #he comes across so disingenuous.. like. i don’t care if audrey’s your precious shining moonlight. she’s also The One Who Came Out Right. #meanwhile The One Who Came Out Wrong is SEETHING with hatred for you! do you not see the consequences of your words?! #“i know you’re in there” like the ink demon isn’t sentient?? like audrey’s just stuck someWHERE not with someONE? #and bendy’s so so angry. of course he is! his creator (well. a copy of him) is saying TO HIS FACE that he’s just a monster. a mistake. #that he’s NOTHING. and most infuriatingly that this stupid OTHER who had the privilege of coming out right is EVERYTHING! #why does she get that? why did she get so lucky? where was all this compassion when it was him? why did he never feel this love? #and so he lashes out. obviously. all he’s ever been is a monster because all he’s ever been TAUGHT is how to be a monster #and who taught him that? who forced him into that? that’s right. the biggest monster around. #so i’m sorry if i don’t find your little speech to be heartfelt joey. you’re a long way away from saying anything truly GOOD. #phew. okay. needed to get that off my chest.

[gunterfan1992]

Episode Review: ‘Together Again’ (Distant Lands, Ep. 3)

Airdate: May 20, 2021

Story by: Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang, Hanna K. Nyström, Christina Catucci, Jesse Moynihan, Adam Muto

Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Iggy Craig, Maya Petersen, Serena Wu

Directed by: Miki Brewster (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

Across Adventure Time’s ten season run, the show explored a bevy of “mature” themes and story ideas—topics, like love, sexuality, depression, and grieving. The show also touched upon death, but the emphasis was usually placed on the emotional toll of a loved one dying, not really what happens when you die. We knew there were Dead Worlds and Death. We knew that there was reincarnation. But how does it all fit together? What does it mean? How does it work?

With “Together Again,” we finally have many of the answers.

This special opens with a marvelous fake-out episode simply called “Finn & Jake,” that sees the two steal a magical cartoon of 50-flavor ice cream before rescuing Turtle Princess and LSP from the clutches of the villainous Ice King. This is all deliberately anachronistic and over the top. Ice King is back to his season one ways, Finn has both arms, and he is still wielding his golden sword that he lost in season two’s “The Real You.” There’s lolrandom dialogue and silly monsters; it’s like a parody of seasons 1-2. But then, this adventure starts to get all wonky, and in time Finn realizes that he is in a some sort of trance or illusion: one that ends with Jake being buried in the ground. Suddenly, Finn awakens from his reverie. He’s an old man. And he’s dead. We’re then presented with a new title card that lets us know the episode is actually called “Finn & Jake Are Dead.”

Holy Glob! They actually went there.

Turns out Jake died years before Finn, so naturally Finn is super excited to see his best bud. But something’s wrong—he cannot find Jake!! They planned to spend eternity together. But all that Finn can find is his very own psychopomp, Mr. Fox (voiced by Tom Herpich, whose purposefully stilted line readings are the epitome of delightful). Finn rightfully assumes that Jake is in a different Dead World, and so, being the ball of spunk and energy that he is, he demands to meet with Death, only to discover that there’s a New Death in town (voiced by Chris Fleming). The episode eventually explains that New Death was the son of Death and Life, and after New Death killed his father, he became the sovereign of the afterlife. New Death hates his job and decides to just blow up all the Dead Worlds so he doesn’t have to deal with it all. (I won’t get too much into the details here, because there would be a lot of story to parse out.)

Finn soon learns that Jake has reached nirvana in the 50th Dead World, where there is nothing but peace and serenity. Finn nevertheless tracks down Jake, pulls him from paradise, but in doing so, accidentally lets New Death in, who promptly obliterates Elysium, sending all the enlightened souls—including those from different levels of the afterlife—to the 1st Dead World. This gronks up the afterlife, temporarily halting the reincarnation process.

Well, Finn and Jake are rightfully ticked, and so they haunt the material plane looking for Princess Bubblegum. She’s not home (more on that later), but Peppermint Butler is! After Ghost Finn and Ghost Jake explain the situation, Peppermint Butler tells them what to do: They need to find Life and explain the situation. The duo manage just that, and Life is rightfully angry that her kid has stopped the transmigration of souls. After Life gives Finn a McGuffin sword that can hurt Death, Finn and Jake return to his abode. A brawl ensues wherein we learn that New Death has been possessed… by none other than that spirit of the Lich.

That’s right, it’s the Lich! He’s back, and boy is he evil.

The Lich explains that by possessing Death, he can destroy the afterlife, thereby destroying a key aspect of reality. Naturally, Finn and Jake are not cool with this, and they engage in combat. After Mr. Fox grabs the McGuffin sword and uses it to annihilate the Lich and New Death, he is proclaimed the New New Death and sets everything right. Finn is slated to be reincarnated, and Jake is slated to return to the 50th Dead World where he and Finn will one day be reunited. As Finn is pulled into the wheel of souls, Jake suddenly decides to go back with Finn, too, “Just for fun.” The episode ends with a card letting us know that the episode is neither called “Finn & Jake” nor “Finn & Jake Are Dead.” Instead, it is “Finn and Jake Are Together Again.”

As they say, “And there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

If you were to tell me several years ago that the last episode to star Finn and Jake would revolve around them dying, I think I would’ve been upset. Not simply sad, but rather frustrated because “they all died” can feel like a cheap ending. But with “Together Again,” it all works. And a large reason that it works is because the show goes all in with their ideas. Finn and Jake don’t magically leap back into their old life (no, no, they very much do bite the dust). Instead, the special emphasizes the cyclical nature of life through the transmigration of souls. The episode ends with a beautiful scene of Finn and Jake, bound together as soul-brothers, being reborn into a new, mysterious (possibly Ooo 1000+?) world. It’s both aesthetically and emotionally pleasing; it doesn’t feel off the way over finales might. This is right. This is the way life works. “Round and round as nature goes,” and all that jazz.

I loved the series explanation of how death works. It seems that souls land in a specific Dead World, where they ‘marinate’ for a bit, presumably being rewarded or punished based on their life in our meat reality. After a time, they are then reborn. This process repeats, with each soul reaching higher and higher levels of enlightenment until they hit nirvana, which is the 50th Dead World. So in a sense, Adventure Time has a roughly Buddhist cosmology with a dash of Greco-Roman mythos thrown in for flavor. (As to what happens after a soul stays in the 50th Dead World for a long period is anyone’s guess, but I’d speculate that when all the souls in the multiverse have been purified and land in the 50th Dead World, they will all collapse into one another and form one perfect Monad. Perhaps this is the sphere of perfection that the beings who merged into Matthew thought they were connecting to? Who knows! It’s anyone’s guess!) I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see who Death, Prismo, Life, etc.’s boss was, but perhaps that’s a mystery better left up to the imagination!

One minor thing that I loved about this special was the number of characters who made cameos as well as all the callbacks that were made to previous episodes. Regarding the former: Finn and Jake’s canine family show up (including the oft-forgotten Jermaine!), as do Tree Trunks and her myriad husbands. Tiffany plays a major role in all these shenanigans as a “death cop” of all things. There is a delightful rogues gallery stuck in the 1st Dead World (including, among others, Maja, Sharon from “The Gut Grinder,” and Wyatt). In the 50th we find Ghost Princess and Clarence happily at peace next to Booshy, the weird spirit mentioned in the Pen Ward classic “High Strangeness.” As far as callbacks go, perhaps my favorite is the clap (from “James Baxter the Horse”) that Jake taught to Finn in case they ever do get separated in the afterlife. And of course, there are myriad references made to “Death in Bloom,” the episode that planted the seed for what this would grow into.

Going into the special suspecting that it would involve Death, I was curious how they were going to handle Miguel Ferrer’s character. (In case a reader is not aware, Ferrer played Death in episodes like “Death in Bloom” and “Betty,” but he sadly passed away a few years ago). The producers’ choice to feature him in a non-speaking cameo—despite playing a relatively significant role in the story—was wise; I’m not sure if I can articulate the exact reasons, but something about his role felt appropriate and not gross, as some post-mortem memorials can be. Speaking of which, the wonderful, lovely Polly Lou Livingston was featured for the last time in this episode as Tree Trunks, happily in heaven with her literal harem of husbands. It was funny, it really was, and I’m sure that Polly Lou would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing it on screen. (Also, this is a pro-Tree Trunks safe space. Any Tree Trunks haters will be chucked into the 1st Dead World with Wyatt.)

The biggest mystery in this whole thing, for me at least, is the question of Princess Bubblegum and Marceline. Several years ago, I wrote an essay about what could’ve happened to them in the Ooo 1000+ universe. I speculated that they peaced out and left Ooo behind. In this special, neither Bubblegum nor Marceline are to be found in the Candy Kingdom—Peppermint Butler seems to be the one in charge, given that he is now wearing Bubblegum’s crown. Likewise, the duo aren’t anywhere in the Dead Worlds either. Maybe the two of them skipped town and got a duplex in the Nightosphere? Who knows… I just want my favorite gals to be OK!

All things considered, “Together Again” was a marvel: An episode that managed to feel like a series finale even more than “Come Along with Me” already did without taking away from the series itself. An episode that managed to make the idea of dying funny. An episode that brought back the Lich in a way that wasn’t forced. An episode that made Mr. Fox the New New Death. An episode that gave us a beautiful ending to Finn and Jake’s story… as well as the beautiful beginning to a new one. I said it on Twitter, and I’ll say it again here: “Together Again” was the end of a sentence in a book with infinite pages. Truly, the fun will never end.

Mushroom War evidence: Everything takes place in the Dead Worlds, so not really. Perhaps a more eagle-eyed viewer can inform us...

Final Grade: That’s right, I’m gonna do it...

Post-script, I actually messaged Jesse Moynihan to ask about his writing credit. He told me that it was for an unused story idea that he had developed. I’m not certain, but I’ll bet it was a part of the cancelled TV movie they were trying to make during season 5, since that would’ve seen Finn and Orgalorg journey to the various Dead Worlds.

#adventure time #adventuretime #atimers #at #atdl #distant lands #adventure time distant lands #finn the human #jake the dog #together again #togetheragain #dead worlds #hanna k. nyström #Hanna K #adam muto #jack pendarvis

[one-real-imonkey]

Mhmmmmmmm, prompts you say? How about......the commander batch end up in the past with the TM except they were all doing something (one was sleeping, the other was unconscious, one was doing reports, one in the middle of a battle, heck, if you include Fox he could have been having a 'meeting (free interpretation) with Palpatine! Maybe the end up as teenagers! Who knows!

In strike bc I haven't seen you write a lot about clones sooooo....yeah, feel fre to ignore this!

Oh the clones my boys!!!!!!

They deserve love and affection and absolutely I’ll write for them. I’m rubbing my hands together and cackling like a super villain. 

They’re all their natural ages, as if they bandy been aged in advance.

———

They’d shown up a mile out from Jasters camp, discovered by a patrol.

Six boys, young boys, some armed, some injured, all almost identical to his ad.

Five of them were, if he had to guess, quintuplets, about 13, while the youngest looked about two or three years younger than them, his Jango’s age.

They were brought to the med tent, and Jaster called at the same time. He met them at the edge of the camp, let the little ones introduce themselves as they walked towards the tent.

Cody, the first introduced himself as, and Jaster noted the scar curling down the side of his face. Then Wolffe who was missing an eye, Ponds who was both bald and injured, Bly with yellow facial tattoos and Fox, who had no definable features Jaster could tell, but more hunched shoulders and bags under his eyes. And the youngest, Rex, with shaved blond hair.

They were not normal ade. The way they walked, watched each other’s sixes, the way their eyes scanned every inch of every room and how Rex’ika was kept to the middle of their group as they were escorted to the med tent. They moved like experienced soldiers, not a group of scared ade.

He stays to the side as they’re checked over, and though they’re obviously not sure where they are or whether to trust Jaster, they clearly want answers, and to compare notes.

“It has to be Force nonsense,” one of them, Wolffe, was saying, “how else could we have travelled so far in the blink of an eye. I’ll admit, it was a shock to go from a firefight to suddenly being alone with you all.”

“A blink of your eye,” Ponds threw back while the baar’ur bandaged his head wound, “I was unconscious and only woke up because you were yelling.”

“I nearly shot Wolffe, I’d been in a fight too.” It was concerning that Bly and Wolffe had both been in firefights, firefights, they were ade!

“Rex was asleep.” Cody chipped in, smirking slightly at the embarrassed and annoyed look that flashed across his vod’ikas face.

“Hey, I'd been awake for over a day, and so had you, so you're the one the medics would be angry at. He was doing his reports, because everyone would simply die if he waited until the morning.”

The baar’ur laughed softly, partly for the teasing and partly to lighten the mood with such awful things being insinuated by their comments, and gestured Jaster over, signalling that they were pretty much done, except for Fox’ika, who’s eyes they were checking having noticed his clear headache.

“It’s fine, baar’ur, you don’t need to worry about my headache.”

“Ad...”

“Nyac. It almost always comes after meetings with our... with our boss, it’s just stress and tiredness, I'm fine.”

Those words were oh so concerning coming from such a small child, and he could see the same concern not only on the face of his baar’ur, but also Fox’ika’s vode. He doubted boss was the right word for the person this ad’ika had been meeting. Not with the comments they’d been making, the way they stood and sat and walked.

Still, the baar’ur backed off.

“So, ade, now that you’ve been treated, I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah.” Cody, Jaster was starting to think he was their leader. “We should. Like why you keep looking at Rex.”

Had he been? The ad looked so similar to Jango, really, it was just the hair. Still, they all looked so very concerned to have any focus on their vod’ika, and he needed to be careful about that. The last thing he wanted to do was upset or scare them.

“To start with, it’s good to meet you all, my name is Jaster Mereel...”

The tent flaps opened and as if summoned his ad’ika slipped in,

“And this is my ad, Jango Fett.”

There was a second of silence, then a flurry of hand signs, before stressed little Fox swore, colourfully.

“Language!”

In another situation he might have slapped a hand over his mouth in shock of what he’d just said. He hadn’t meant to say it, but they all looked and sounded so similar to his ad, it had just slipped out.

And now they were all staring at him incredulously.

Jango looked half way between astonished at the language and annoyingly like he planned on using it.

He could imagine the ribbing he was going to get, how that conversation would go. 

‘So Jaster how was your day.’ 

‘Oh fine,’ he’d reply, ‘ except that a bunch of stressed and battle worn ade appearing from thin air who look identical to my ad who taught him a whole new library of swears to use.’

He wasn’t too surprised that seeing Jango had shaken something in them, but their story soon slipped out. Time travel, war, messed up ageing. Children sent into war, whether they were physically adults or not, it was horrific, and more so when you could see them like this.

Now they were their real ages, the ages they would be without the enhanced ageing. 

They were warriors and soldiers who’d seen the most brutal of war and death, and they were ade who deserved love and affection and so many other things they’d so clearly received from each other and none others as they’d grown up too fast.

These ade had been raised by demagolka and monsters, and his Jan’ika had been a part of it. Not intentionally, one of them had said, at least, they didn’t think so. Most of them had never even met him, and the one who had, Cody, claimed it had only been once. It was not a path he planned on letting his ad walk again, willingly or not.

It was no burden to adopt them, to claim them as his own and swear he’d give them a better childhood than they’d had. The biggest argument was over combat, because they were soldiers, and they wanted to fight, but Ka’ra they were so young. The quintuplets, they were only just 13, and when they were a little more adjusted and settled, they could start taking small missions, with adults and supervision. Rex’ika would have to wait, he was just too small. He and Jango could start at the same time, not before.

He would have been Demagolka to decide otherwise.

No child should look so grateful to be told they were wanted, that they had a home and loving aliit. No ad should look so disbelieving. 

Jango looked over the moon to have new vode, as Jaster had predicted, worming his way into their little group and cuddling in. It was cute, and clearly none of them were capable of denying a vod’ika, even if he wasn’t one of the ones they knew.

Jaster isn’t surprised by the way Jan’ika looks at Rex, not only could they be twins, but Rex has the hair he knows Arla had, and though wary and watchful of both Jango and the rest of the tent, and likely anything they could hear happening outside of it, they were happy to hold Jan’ika too.

Jaster’s aliit had just grown larger, but he couldn’t complain. It would be a journey and a challenge, their horrific pasts creating problems he likely couldn’t even foresee yet, but he couldn’t regret it.

And he knew they’d be adored and protected by his people too.

———

Thanks for promoting, I loved it. They all deserve better. I wanted to add something where they saw Jango and assumed he was another Vod who’d traveled, maybe part of Rex’s old batch before they were decommissioned and his moved to their group, but I couldn’t fit it in. But this worked well too.

Also absolutely Palpabastard was messing with Fox.

Thanks for reading.

Inbox still open, prompts or headcanons or asks. (-:

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #jango fett #commander cody #commander wolffe #commander ponds #commander fox #commander bly #captain rex #jaster mereel #true mandalorians #time travel #prompt ask #prompt response #anon ask

[trashytummiez]

Fetish headcanon: Mina

One of Mina's biggest fetishes is vore. She loves vore art and vore fics and teases that Kirishima is such a perfect pred with his hair his perfect abs and especially his fangs. She gropes his mouth often and loves to roleplay with him that he's a big monster and she's his helpless prey forcing her head against his stomach while it growls hungrily and even licking her cheek as bashful as Kiri can get doing that as she requests. She loves when Kiri roleplays with gummy bears though. He'll pretend the gummies are villagers and he's a giant gulping them down by the handful and acting like they're squirming in his tummy when he stuffs himself enough.

Of course in addition to vore Mina's got a tummy kink like most of the people on my list X3

She loves seeing Kirishima getting stuffed to his fullest and watching his muscular tummy get big and bloated. The sight of it drives her wild and so does the feeling of it when she caresses and massages his tummy. She'll rest her head against his belly and listen to it churning noisily all day if she can. Mina loves to play with Kiri's belly. She always pats and slaps it and basks in the feeling and the noises it makes when she does.

But she also loves her belly as well. She'll pull her shirt up in front of a mirror and just marvel at how perfectly curved her tummy is while she rubs and pats it or plays with her belly button.

Mina's also got a huge hunger kink. She loves the sounds tummies make and one thing she really loves about being with Kiri is his tummy is really really noisy. So whenever he's hungry his stomach growls like an animal and she'll gush at the intense rumbles it makes. She'll rest her head against his abs and listen to them growl to be fed while she teases what a hungry boi Kiri is while teasingly patting his belly to be patient.

Stomach sloshing turns her on too. If she's really full she'll actually put a mic right against her belly and record all the noises it makes even sucking her tummy in and out so it sloshes around into the mic. She does the same thing with Kiri just listening to his belly churning and sloshing and loving every second of it~

Mina's also got a huge burping fetish. The sound of big raunchy burps drives her wild and no one in the school can burp louder than Kirishima. When he's stuffed he can let loose the loudest throatiest burps a boy can let out. She'll even knead his belly when it's really full to push as many burps out of him as she can. He knows about her fetish and is happy to gulp down air to burp on command for her or chug soda and let loose for his girlfriend. He admittedly gets a little embarrassed when she begs him to burp in her face but Kiri's a good boi and is happy to indulge his partner.

Her own burps turn her on too. Of all the girls in the school she has some of the loudest burps among them and she can let loose some really long ones. She practices a lot often recording herself burping and trying to get better and better while watching herself and getting a little excited when she does.

Mina indulges tummy kinks perfectly because she's one of the most gluttonous girls in the school. She can eat as much as most of the bois and usually sports a really big pregnant looking tummy when she really indulges herself. She'll let Kiri stuff her silly when they take turns during their feeding sessions and just lean back letting her big pink belly spill over her thighs while Kiri gropes and rubs it.

When stuffed she has some really beefy burps of her own and for anyone who has a burp fetish Mina can let out some impressively loud and incredibly unladylike eruptions. Kiri even taught her how to burp talk which only adds to her increasing shamelessness.

Like Kiri mina has a really noisy tummy when it's full or empty and she's okay letting anyone listen to her belly on either occasion. She's much more shameless than most of the girls and has no problems indulging most things within reason ;3

#kink asks #headcanons #mina #mina x kirishima #tummy kink #stuffing #burps #burp kink #hiccups #giant vore #vore roleplay #tummy noises #kink exploration

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part Two)

Characters: Joshua x female reader (well this part is more like Joshua x female oc)

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, some angst

Word count: 4,932

Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.

a/n: things in bold are in english, and everything is in italics because it’s all backstory stuff

Previous | Next | Second Chance Masterlist

Lilly Green started out as a childhood friend. Joshua grew up with her since they were neighbors and their parents were close. Even when their families decided to relocate because of the worsening famine in America, they were still together. Joshua was even the one to teach her Korean -- of course, he taught her how to compliment him before teaching her anything of good use.

But Lilly was also the one to keep Josh in line. He was always a bit of a troublemaker, and it only got worse when he got closer to shifting for the first time. He got into fights, snuck out when he wasn’t supposed to, and did just about every single thing he was told not to do. The only person that could seem to get him to listen was Lilly.

The only time Joshua and Lilly were apart was when he shifted. He was gone for five days.

The first two days, Lilly waited. She waited outside her house or would do her work in the window to watch for Joshua. She wasn’t sure if she’d scold him or hug him when he returned, but she just wanted Joshua to come back. She missed her best friend.

The third day was when she was fed up with waiting around and finally went out to find him. She searched all around town and even ventured one day to the neighboring town, but she never found Joshua. Since his parents hadn’t even heard from him or known what happened, she wasn’t sure if he was kidnapped or killed.

“He’s just run away, Lilly,” her parents kept insisting. “You know how he is -- he’s not a good kid. He’s not coming back so stop going off after him, you’ll get hurt.”

But she was absolutely positive he didn’t run away and left her behind. Joshua would never leave her like that. Not her Joshua.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the sixth day that Joshua came back. He had to leave right away, but he had to say goodbye to Lilly first. He refused to leave for good before he saw her one last time.

The evening he’d left, he had shifted for the first time. Terrified, Joshua ran off into the woods, unable to change back or figure out his emotions. It wasn’t until a scrappy pack of young men who he later realized were other werewolves found him and were able to calm him enough that he went back home. But not before one of them -- he seemed to be like the ‘leader’ and claimed to be their alpha, but even Joshua was skeptical of how true that was -- explained that the odds he could stay in his town were very slim. People didn’t take kindly to werewolves, so that meant Josh would be in danger staying there.

“You go collect what you need and say goodbye to anybody you have to,” the boy, Jaemin, told him, “and then you can come back to me. We’ll be your pack.”

So Joshua managed to climb up to Lilly’s window and slip in. She always left it cracked when it was warm because she liked the cool breeze, so he wasn’t surprised that the window was open. He was surprised, however, that she was sitting up in bed, staring at the window like she expected him to tumble ungracefully into her bedroom.

“Shit Lilly!” he whispered, clutching his heart. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Where have you been?” she demanded, keeping her voice low so as to not wake her family.

Joshua averted his eyes, “...I can’t tell you.”

It didn’t take much for Lilly to notice something was off. Instead of the familiar brown she knew, Josh’s eyes were now a liquid gold that seemed to practically glow in the moonlight that lit up her room. She scooted forward on her bed and gripped his jaw, forcing him to look at her. She almost pulled away from how warm his skin was.

“Josh,” her voice was soft like she was cooing at him, her green eyes searching his, “you can tell me anything. What happened to you?”

Joshua continued to stare into her eyes in silence as he tried to work through his thoughts. Not only was he struggling on the decision to tell her everything, but he was also sensing new things. Lilly’s sweet fragrance he’d always smelled suddenly smelled sweeter -- like the best thing he’d ever smelled. When he first saw her after being away for so long, she was the only thing he saw. And yet, he didn’t feel any different looking at her.

“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” he breathed.

“I’ll believe anything you tell me,” she promised. “I always have, haven’t I?”

It wasn’t a lie. She believed him when he said the boy at church was bullying the homeless children -- he’d gotten in trouble for beating him up because nobody but her believed him -- she believed him when he said a hunter in town had stolen from a poor man -- again, he’d gotten in trouble for beating that man up, too -- and she even believed him when he made their pact to stay by each other’s side when they were four -- and she clearly stood by that because she waited for him to return for five days. Lilly always believed him, and he knew by the look in her eyes that this would be no different.

“Those monsters...the ones they tell stories about to the kids in town...” he began slowly, unwanted tears welling in his eyes. “Would you hate me if I became one of them...?”

“The werewolves?” she asked.

Joshua nodded, his eyes closing and a tear sliding down his cheek.

He expected to feel her grip on his chin loosen. He expected to feel her scramble away from him before yelling for him to get out or for her father to grab his gun or something awful. He expected the absolutely worst -- for him to lose his best friend.

Instead, he felt arms wrap around his neck before a hand guided his head into their shoulder. He heard Lilly quietly shushing his silent sobs as she held him to her, stroking his hair in a comforting manner. And he suddenly felt a hundred times better being in her embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist as he knelt in front of her bed.

“You’re not a monster to me, Josh,” she told him. “You never will be.”

“But it means I have to break our pact,” he told her in a broken whisper, not wanting to move his face from her shoulder. “I can’t stay here, Lilly. It’s not safe for me.”

“You don’t have to break it if you take me with you.”

Josh let out a soft chuckle, pulling away to look up at her, “I can’t take you with me. You’re too young to be out on your own.”

“And you’re not?” she frowned, wiping his tears away with her thumbs.

“I’ll be taken care of,” he reassured her. “You should stay here with your family. ...It’s where you belong.”

He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of leaving Lilly hurt more than it normally would’ve. It was like it physically hurt his heart. He didn’t even want to leave her bedroom. He wanted to hide away there and live there forever.

Lilly let out a silent sigh as she looked over Joshua’s face. She wanted to memorize every part of his face if she really was going to lose him so suddenly. But she understood why he had to leave. Even though werewolves were played off as a myth to most people, they were still known to be lurking about by adults and higher-ups in town. If Joshua was found out to be one...

“Make a new pact with me, then,” she decided.

“What is it?”

“When I turn the legal age,” she began slowly, a small smile tugging up the corners of her lips, “come find me.”

Joshua should’ve known she wouldn’t give up that easily, but it made his heart flutter knowing she’d want to see him again.

“What if I don’t?” he smirked.

“Then I’ll track you down, Hong.”

“Is that a threat, Green?”

“No, that’s a promise.”

Joshua’s face broke out into a smile as he nodded, “I’ll always come back for you.”

The sun was going to start rising soon, so Joshua knew it was time for him to go. He had to sneak into his own house, get some clothes and items important to him, and get back to Jaemin. That meant he had to wrap things up with Lilly.

“I really have to go now,” he sighed, the smile falling.

“I’ll see you again,” she reminded him.

“You will,” he promised, another smile -- this one smaller -- forming on his lips. “I’ll miss you, Lilly.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Josh.”

Joshua leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before moving to get up. However, he was stopped by a tug on his wrist. He looked back at Lilly in confusion.

“If this is the last time I’ll see you for a while,” she began, “you better kiss me properly.”

If there were butterflies in his stomach just from knowing Lilly wanted him to come back, he wasn’t sure what was happening inside him now. He was, however, very aware of the loud, happy grumble that came from his chest. It made Lilly laugh while his cheeks heated up in embarrassment.

Lilly’s hand cupped his cheek before leaning in, her lips pressing against his in a sweet kiss that Joshua immediately melted into, a purr resonating in his chest that had the girl smiling against his lips.

“Go,” she chuckled when she’d pulled away. “Take care of yourself.”

Joshua nodded, still slightly in a daze as he stood up, “Y-you too.”

And with one final glance over his shoulder, he was gone out her window.

Joining Jaemin’s pack was one of Joshua’s biggest regrets. Jaemin and the four other boys he led -- more like manipulated -- only made his anger management and bad habits even worse. They taught him to do things he shouldn’t, they encouraged him to lash out, and they overall just didn’t care about him or his wellbeing at all.

The one thing that reminded him to not completely lose who he was, was Lilly. He’d continue to go to the edge of town, following the pull he felt to her to watch her. She never knew he was there, but just seeing her was enough to remind him of who he was, where he came from, and the kind of person Lilly saw and loved him as.

Thankfully, Joshua didn’t stay with the five boys for long. It was only a few years before they turned on him and he had to wander aimlessly for somewhere else to stay.

And that was when he met Beom.

She was short, old, and round, and walked around with a walking stick that was even taller than she was. The energy she radiated was kind, and her personality was no different. He didn’t know how or why, but when he found her house, she was already standing in the open doorway like she expected him and knew he wasn’t any threat. Beom was strange, but she was the nicest person he’d encountered since Lilly.

While Joshua stayed with Beom, he met other werewolves that the strange old woman knew. They helped Beom around the house and protected her, and in return, she cared for them and fed them and gave them what they needed up until they went off to travel. Then it was just her and Joshua.

However, in the back of Joshua’s mind, he was always counting down the days to Lilly’s birthday when she could legally leave her family and be with him instead. He would still lurk around the edges of town and check up on her because he just couldn’t stay away from her. 

Beom quickly picked up on this.

“She’s your mate,” the elderly woman stated, a small smirk on her face when Joshua has shown up at her house after his daily stakeout.

He paused, giving a quizzical look in her direction, “What?”

“The girl you go to see,” Beom clarified, her eyes moving from where she was looking at the stove to finally meet Josh’s confused look, “she’s your mate.”

“My what?”

“Your mate -- every werewolf has one. Fate brings the two of your together, and it’s a bond you can never get rid of. Once you’ve imprinted, you’re in it for life.”

“So...like soulmates?” Joshua asked.

Beom only nodded once before going back to cooking.

Curiously, Joshua walked over to her, “How do you...tell?”

“It’s something that happens as soon as you see them,” she began, stirring the pot of food she was making for the wolves. “All you can see is them. You just feel it in your heart when you look at them that they’re the one. It’ll hit you like a ton of rocks, Joshua -- trust me, you’ll know.”

Josh just frowned, figuring Beom must’ve been wrong, “But I didn’t feel any different looking at her before I left.”

“Do you not like being away from her?”

“Well...no, but I don’t like being away from my pack for too long, either.”

Beom scoffed, turning to look at the young werewolf, “That’s different from how you feel being away from her, isn’t it?”

“Because we’ve been friends since birth.”

Beom just chuckled. He seemed to have an excuse for everything she threw at him, but she knew better than he did -- she didn’t even have to see him look at the girl to know.

“You believe what you’d like to,” she told him with a happy sigh, turning back to the food, “but you should know, Joshua, that I’m never wrong.”

But Joshua hadn’t even known Beom for a few months, so he took that statement with a grain of salt, forgetting about it in favor of focusing on Lilly. He continued to watch from the outskirts of town, and he continued to keep track of days until he could see his childhood friend again, not once thinking about what Beom had told him.

But one day, the pull he felt to Lilly just...vanished. He continued to go to town to try to find her, but it was like she had completely disappeared off the face of the planet. So he eventually had no other choice but to give up.

Again, Beom noticed this.

At the time, it was just Joshua living with Beom -- though Seungcheol was the first to find Beom, but he was exploring off in other territories in hopes of finding the rest of his pack -- but two other wolves that she took care of, Minho and Oliver, would visit often. They all had known Josh was going off to the town he’d grown up in, but even the two other wolves grew concerned when they noticed that he wasn’t leaving everyday like he used to. Why would he suddenly stop? Did something happen? Did he have to lay low?

But Beom knew immediately what it must’ve been: the girl. Of course, her only assumption was that Lilly simply died. As far as she knew, that was the only way to get rid of the bond. But Joshua would’ve felt in his heart if Lilly died, and he seemed relatively fine. He didn’t look or act like he was experiencing horrible heartbreak, so what else could it have been?

Years went by and nobody knew what had happened. Joshua still thought about her everyday, wondering what happened to her. He eventually found his pack with Jihoon stumbling across Beom’s path when she offered him help when he was injured -- he definitely didn’t seem to want the help, but he warmed up to her -- with a panicked Seokmin sticking by his side. She had run into Jeonghan in town and just invited him back to her house for lunch because she just knew there was something special about him. With the three of them now in Beom’s care, Jihoon thought it best they try to find the rest of their pack and settle down somewhere. They moved out into a small cottage in town Jeonghan had been living in -- it was dangerous, but it was all they had since Beom’s was small with only one bedroom -- but would still check in regularly up until Jihoon decided to explore outside the town.

Seungcheol had known Beom years prior and had even lived with her for a long time. However, he had gone off to do some traveling of his own in hopes of finding a pack. Beom hadn’t heard from him in who knew how long, but he had finally returned with three members of his pack while Jihoon had taken Seokmin, Jeonghan, and Joshua off on their own adventures. Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Hansol had decided to set to work on building a house in the forest nearby to live in, figuring living close to Beom would be good for them.

Once Jihoon had returned with his pack, plus Seungkwan now, they were introduced to Seungcheol and his pack, and they all felt connections to both alphas. So the construction of the house became an even bigger project.

And even bigger still once Soonyoung had shown up as the sun was setting one evening, begging for help because they’d gotten themselves into some trouble.

With the alphas content with their pack thus far, they continued building onto the house until it was completed. It took a lot of time and effort, but it was worth it. Plus, all of the tasks kept Joshua’s mind off of what had happened with Lilly. The little addition of the baby left at Beom’s door one night was even more distraction as the older wolves visited everyday to try to track down the parents and help care for the infant Beom named Soomin.

Still, he thought about Lilly every night before he went to sleep, wondering just what in the world happened to her.

And nobody except Josh and Beom -- and Oliver and Minho, who had already gone off together to travel -- knew that Lilly ever even existed.

However, there was a night where one of the two boys had gone to visit Beom due to an injury.

Oliver and Soomin were sitting at the table together, the teenage girl studying her books while Oliver sipped some team that the old woman had made him to help him heal. Suddenly, the wolf looked up from his tea that Beom had made him and set on the table, giving a confused look to the old woman who was standing at her small cauldron, “What’s that sound?”

“What sound, dear?” Beom replied, seeming unable to hear the odd sounds Oliver heard.

Soomin looked up at him before her eyes went out of focus while she tried to hear what Oliver had.

It wasn’t odd to hear the wind shriek outside, especially on a rainy night. However, this sounded different. It wasn’t the same kind of moan one would hear as rain rapped on the windows. This sounded far too human to just be the sounds of the wind that Oliver liked to listen to while Beom worked on potions and whatnot.

He heard it again, but closer now -- Soomin picked up on it now, too. This time, he was sure it was human. Concerned, Oliver got up from his chair at the table and walked over toward the door. He opened the front door and took a few steps outside, trying to listen more carefully; trying to hear for the same cries but also trying to use his sense of smell to see if he smelled anyone nearby.

Of course Beom had heard the shrieking, but she knew Oliver would no doubt go retrieve the person and bring them back if need be -- and much more efficiently than she ever could. Besides, she knew the forest near her house was safe and would keep the poor wanderer protected until it could manage to lead her to the cottage.

“She’s northeast from here,” Oliver murmured to himself as he tried to gather any more information before deciding what to do next. He turned his head, looking to Beom to see the hints of a proud smile on her face. “Should I go find her?”

“No, my dear,” Beom told him. She could hear the sprites and they promised to safely lead the wanderer to the cottage. There was no immediate danger, so there was no reason for Oliver to go out when he was already hurt. “The forest will lead her here. It always does.”

And it did. Oliver was standing by the window with Soomin standing beside him and straining her eyes in the dark. The pair were unable to focus on anything else until they were sure the human girl was safe. Oliver’s sharp eyes intently watched for any sign of the person he heard in the night. When a redheaded girl finally arrived, he was at the door before she could even knock.

“Beom, she’s here!” Soomin announced.

Beom opened the door after the first bunch of frantic knocks -- Oliver was nervous about scaring her while Soomin was slightly frightened the strange girl could be someone bad, so they let Beom answer the door. Before her stood a girl with coppery-orange hair that was soaking wet and dripping down her tattered dress. Her face was sunken in, and her skin looked unhealthily pale. Her green eyes looked back at Beom with fear, but just a tinge of hope in them.

“Please,” she breathed, out of breath from running, “you have to help me.”

Of course, Beom hurried the shivering girl inside, asking Oliver to grab her new clothes that weren’t sopping wet while Soomin immediately went to make tea without even being asked. Beom sat the girl down at the kitchen table, not worrying about the mud and water the girl was tracking in. She gave her a knitted blanket, wrapping it around the poor girl as Soomin offered her tea that would not only warm her up, but would definitely help her with the lack of nourishment she seemed to have.

As soon as Beom asked what happened, the girl didn’t stop talking. She explained the whole story: how she was waiting to become of age so she could run away with the boy she loved, but how the town found out he was a monster. So they put her to sleep and locked her away so he could never track her down to take her with him. She still wasn’t even sure how long she was asleep, but as soon as she woke up, she escaped.

That explained her appearance, at least. But...what kind of monster was this boy she spoke of?

“Which town are you from, little wanderer?” Beom asked her, sitting down in the chair to the girl’s right as she listened to the story and made sure she drank all of the magic tea.

“It’s not too far from here,” she said, both of her hands wrapped around the mug to put warmth back into her fingertips. “It’s just on the outskirts of the forest.”

“That’s the one Joshua’s from, isn’t it?” Soomin asked, listening to the conversation as Oliver prepared the couch for their visitor to sleep on.

The girl perked up, head whipping around to look at the werewolf, “Joshua?”

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed, stopping what he was doing to look toward the kitchen, studying the girl, “Do you know him?”

Then it clicked in Beom’s head.

With a soft smile, the old woman brushed a strand of damp hair away from the girl’s face, “What’s your name, little wanderer?”

“Lilly.”

Then Oliver caught on, his golden eyes snapping to look at Beom with urgency in them, “Should I call for the pack?”

Beom only sat back in her chair, “He’ll be here soon.”

Which was true. As soon as Lilly woke up, Joshua would’ve felt the pull to her again, and Beom guessed that feeling the pull so suddenly once again would’ve woken him from even the deepest slumber. It had been years since he felt it, and he would be done waiting around to go back for her.

Sure enough, they soon heard, “Josh, slow down” being called outside.

The front door flew open, Joshua being the first inside. His black hair was dripping wet and hanging in his face, and he seemed to be in his pajamas since he only had pants on. His golden eyes almost immediately locked on Lilly sitting in the kitchen, and even though Beom and Oliver knew the girl was his mate without needing to see him look at her, it was absolutely solidified seeing the way he changed seeing her for the first time in so long.

“Josh!” Lilly cried, leaping up from the chair and running straight for Josh.

Any average person would’ve fallen over with the force she ran into his arms, but Josh hardly even stumbled as his warm arms wrapped around her waist.

The few of the pack that followed him there finally walked in, looking much like he did. Their eyes landed on the scene in front of them, seeing Joshua holding an unfamiliar girl so tightly, they were sure they’d fuse together. She was crying into his shoulder as he sniffled and let silent tears slide down his cheeks.

Josh didn’t even think twice about the only words he said. He thought he was never going to see Lilly again after the pull to her disappeared, and his emotions and thoughts were running so wild that he couldn’t form any other sentences. But this one summed up how he felt pretty well, anyway.

“I love you, Lilly. So much. I’m never letting you go again.”

Jihoon looked over at Beom, pointing at the couple in front of him, silently asking if this was the girl Beom had told him about behind Joshua’s back. Beom simply nodded with an almost smug smile.

It took a little bit for the two to calm down and let go, but even then, Josh was always touching her somehow. That actually became a habit when they were around each other, but nobody could blame them.

“It’s been about 60 years since you vanished,” Joshua had told her softly when Lilly had made a comment about not seeing him for ‘a few years’. “Actually, I think it’s been 64 exactly.”

Lilly stopped, eyes wide and mouth agape. They’d kept her sleeping in a basement for 64 years? She knew it was at least a few, but she didn’t think it was that long!

“For what it’s worth,” Joshua began with a playful smile, still holding both of her hands in his as her body was still cold from being lost outside in the rain, “you don’t look a day over nineteen.”

“Well...I’m technically not yet,” she realized. “They did that to me just before my birthday. I’m still eighteen.”

“No, you’re eighty-two,” Jihoon deadpanned before Seungcheol whacked him in the arm and scolded him for being rude.

Lilly was quick to adjust to her new life, though. It was easy with Joshua by her side, but she took a liking to the wolves very quickly -- and Soomin also became quite attached to the older girl since the only people she had in her life were an old woman and a pack of male werewolves. Lilly stayed at Beom’s with Josh for the first night, but Jeonghan had a big mouth and told the pack everything that had happened at Beom’s. By the next morning, everybody knew about this secret mate Joshua apparently had but never spoke of.

The younger wolves seemed the most interested in her, but everybody seemed to love her. She easily stepped up to the role of playing ‘pack mother’ even though it wasn’t a position she necessarily had to take, and like an older sister to Soomin. It was just something that seemed to naturally come to her.

There was a difference in Joshua, she noticed. If she thought Josh was mischievous as a regular human boy, he was down-right bad as a werewolf. He was reckless and thrill-seeking, but frankly, the things he did were pretty dangerous. He had a bad temper, especially after shifting, and it was hard for even Lilly to keep him in control.

A few years went by, and things stayed the same. Lilly took care of the pack like they were her kids, and the pack took care of her in return. Joshua got himself in just as much trouble just like Lilly remembered, but because he was a werewolf now, she found herself tending to more and more wounds of his than necessary.

Joshua was the type that didn’t think about repercussions or even if his actions would affect others. But after that day, he was different. It wasn’t just the awful depression that changed him, it was what he’d done that changed him. He wasn’t reckless anymore, and he wasn’t as carefree. He had become careful, but still kept his snarky “I don’t care” attitude. Because he really didn’t care. Without Lilly, he didn’t care at all.

#seventeen #joshua #joshua hong #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #werewolf!seventeen #joshua au #joshua imagine #joshua scenario #joshua oneshot #joshua fanfic #joshua x reader #werewolf!joshua #joshua hong au #joshua hong imagine #joshua hong scenario #joshua hong oneshot #joshua hong fanfic #joshua hong x reader #werewolf!joshua hong

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

Monet Issues

Happy COI day! Here's some no-longer-canon-compliant angst because apparently the book itself isn't going to be enough for me :) 

No spoilers here, but I know not everyone is checking tags and such right now, so I'm going to tag a few people who have interacted with my fics before (lmk if you don't want to be!). Don't feel obligated to read this though, it's a little dark. @littlx-songbxrd @alastairxcarstairs @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @archeronesta @thechangeling @styxdrawings @upsidedown-cats @fictionally-fantastic @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood

Fanfiction Masterlist

CW: mention or discussion of alcoholism, physical abuse, bullying, and toxic relationships

(title from the song Monet Issues by Chase Petra, which I may or may not have listened to on repeat while writing this)

Out of all of the people he’d ever snapped at, Alastair Carstairs had never lost his temper with his mother. Not until today. 

“He’s the same. He’s the same as he was last spring, before he left, the same as he was ten years ago. He is never going to change. Not for Cordelia, not for you, not for the baby. Why are you still doing this to yourself?” he pleaded. 

His mother smiled and sighed. “That’s enough, Alastair joon. Your father is flawed, but he loves us. He’s trying. You’ll understand one day, once you’ve fallen in love and started a family of your own.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Just answer one question then: if this child is a boy, will you allow him to do everything I was forced to do?” 

She hardened her expression. “Joonam, that’s just what family-” 

“No. Cordelia never did those things, did she? I never wanted her to. You never wanted her to.” 

“That was different. She’s… Well, she has a big heart, you know. I knew that you could handle such a burden, azizam. I know that it was difficult, but look at the man that you’ve become. I’m so proud of you. These trials life brings us… they only make us stronger.” 

Alastair could feel his stomach twisting as his mother spoke. “No.” 

“Alastair-” 

“No! I never asked for this! I never wanted this! You told me that I needed to be head of the family in his absence, but now that he’s returned, it’s as if the past six months never happened? As if the past decade never happened? He has been absent for ten years. Cordelia was allowed to simply be a child. Because she had a ‘big heart,’ you say? What about mine? Was it always small, or did you, did Father make it that way? Because I genuinely cannot remember a time before. When was I meant to just be a child? When you sent me away to school, to meet all of the boys who were allowed to simply grow up and make mistakes and learn from them while I was busy trying to keep my father alive and my family together? I didn’t need to be stronger. I was a child!” His voice cracked. “I needed to be loved and protected! I needed someone to take care of me, not the other way around! I needed to feel safe! I was a child!” 

He clenched his fists at his sides, seeing white. “It didn’t make me stronger. It made me- it made me broken. It made me bitter and angry, so much so that I pushed it onto everyone else. It made me a monster. Do you know how awful school was? They taught me to hate myself. I became a bully because it was easier to hurt others than let them hurt me. I let nearly every part of me die, just trying to survive it. I knew someone who didn’t, a fourteen-year-old boy who I watched die. And yet I preferred that over the idea of returning home and dealing with Father’s illness again. Do you want to know the truth?” 

He took a step closer to his mother, her expression hard and unreadable. “The truth is that the moment I met someone who I thought might actually take care of me and protect me, I ran to him. I trusted him like I’d never allowed myself to trust anyone. And I stayed with him, even as he lied to me, as he left me cold and alone night after night, as he made it clear time and time again that he would never prioritize me over his own whims and desires. I wanted so badly to feel loved that I gave him all I had, all of my time and energy and attention, knowing that he would never return any of it.” 

He took a step back, finally feeling the tears that had spilled down his cheeks. “I’ve realized now that I deserve better. I deserved better. You deserve better.” He lowered his voice and looked down. He knew that his mother loved him, that Cordelia loved him, that maybe even Elias loved him, in his own way. He just wished he never had to wonder whether his life would be different if someone had cared about him. “I know… I know you love me, that you love all of us. I know that you didn’t have many choices. You were in a terrible situation. But I can’t stand here and watch you sit in your denial any longer, knowing the prices we have both paid for it.” 

He stared at her, waiting for her to respond, but she did not. Alastair did the only thing he knew left to do: he turned and left. As he started towards the staircase, he stopped and spoke one last time. “You were meant to protect me, and you did not. That’s okay, because I’m learning how to be whole again. I’m finding better ways to survive. I am mending my own heart, alone, because it is my only option. But I want to make one thing clear, this is not meant to be the price of family. This did not make me strong, and you have nothing to be proud of.” 

Finally satisfied, he retreated to his room without waiting for a reaction.

***

Sona returned to her room after her son stormed off. Her eyes scanned her dresser, a quiet mess of makeup, perfumes, Elias’ house key. She’d only just given it to him, but it was pointless. He always lost them. At least today, he’d forgotten them in their own home, and not at a bar or on a park bench or in some hansom cab halfway across the city. She looked up at her reflection in the mirror, at the purple spot under her eyes, at the wrinkles now set into her face, and thought of the days when she was younger. Did she always look older than her years?

Elias had been older than her, of course. Much older. Despite her young age, she’d been a widow. Not just a widow, but accused of murder. Despite all that had happened since, she could still remember clearly going before the Mortal Sword, confessing all that had happened, and watching herself acquitted and her husband’s death swept under the rug by a society that did not wish to face the reality of what she had endured. 

She’d been frightened, terrified, certain that no one would ever love after what she had done. She’d always known that her life would be difficult, that it would be unlikely for her to find a respectable husband, that she would never marry for love. Theodor was supposed to be a catch. She was meant to be the luckiest girl alive. She was young and naïve and blood spilled for it over, and over, and over, until she broke. Until everyone around her could see that she was broken. 

She thought that Elias would make her whole. She believed that he would take care of her, that he would love her, that he would provide. She hadn’t known how she could be so lucky, twice. 

Now, she wondered if she should have taken off on that milking cart. 

She’d thought about it many times, what her life could have become if she’d simply left. If she’d run away, away from the Shadow World, away from all that knew her past. She could have started over as a mundane. 

She always pushed the thought aside. If she had run, she would never have had her children. 

Her children. 

Their lives had been much more difficult than she’d dreamed of. They were never going to be easy, not being who they are, not in this world they lived in. Some pains were unavoidable. 

Some were not. 

Alastair had been a happy child, once. He’d carried so much love in his heart, perhaps even more than Cordelia ever had. That is why, when he learned the truth, he agreed so readily to help. Because he loved Cordelia, and her, and Elias, so much. He did not yet know that for some, the cost of love was pain and hopelessness. 

She allowed him to pay that price, the same one that she had paid, because it was easier than accepting the truth. Even as she watched him grow more and more anxious, as dark circles imprinted themselves under his eyes, as Risa shot her disapproving looks every time she asked him to look after Elias, or take care of Cordelia, or clean up some bottles, she allowed that price to be paid. 

She thought that the Shadowhunter Academy could be good for him, that perhaps it would benefit him to be away from the house. She was a fool, and by the time he first returned from school, she could see that the little boy she’d once known had disappeared. 

She could see him again, now, fighting to be heard. She could see that her son was finding himself again, but that it was a slow and painful process, and that he was still very far away. She wondered where her old self had gone, and if she could find her, or if she even still existed at all. 

She’d always known that Alastair was similar to her. Too similar, it seemed, and now, he had made the same mistakes she had. She knew the pain he felt too well, the pain that she could see in his eyes, hear in his voice. She’d thought that was love, but it was not. She’d learned the hard way, and now Alastair had, too. She knew that it was not a coincidence.

You had the biggest heart of them all, she wanted to tell her son. It’s still yours. I’m sorry.

She did not know how. 

She rested a hand on her swollen belly and thought about taking care of an infant while also taking care of her husband. She could no longer not ask anyone else to do it for her. 

For this baby, still unmarred by life’s hardships, for Alastair, for Cordelia, for herself, she took a deep breath and gathered her husband’s few belongings. She threw them in a suitcase, along with a short note, and placed it on their front steps, locking the door behind her.

A/N: Thanks for reading! The Farsi words are just terms of endearment, like “my dear.” I just want to say that I don’t necessarily think everything that Alastair said or Sona thought is true (or that Alastair even believed everything he said), I was just trying to get inside their heads a bit. Forgiving (and blaming) parents is really hard and complicated, and I really wanted to explore how Alastair felt about Sona a bit more. 

#fanfiction #alastair carstairs #sona carstairs #anti elias carstairs #the last hours #tlh #chain of gold #chog #cog2 #cw alcoholism #cw physical abuse #cw bullying #cw toxic relationship

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

I’m slowly dying (with or without you) - Supercorp

Read on AO3

*trigger warning for panic attacks*

The first time Lena had a panic attack, she was sixteen years old and she had the application forms from MIT spread in front of her. She was admittedly too young to even have the forms, but she was a Luthor and Luthors have their ways more often than not. Since that was the first time it happened, all the cold sweat, chest pain and trouble breathing scared the living shit out of teenage her, who burst into Lex's room announcing she was having a heart attack. It only made sense, she tried to tell him while all her brother did was stare and stare some more. That's how their father died, after all, they had the genetic predisposition for it. Doesn't matter if Lena took the healthy lifestyle quite seriously, or that she took fencing classes four times a week, practiced tennis every Saturday and ate more vegetables than any other person on the planet. She was definitely having a heart attack.

It wasn't a heart attack, as the family doctor ruled out four hours later after Lex finally drove her to the ER. A panic attack, he explained, aggravated by the fact that Lena didn't know what it was, though it was a heart attack and, as a consequence, thought that she was dying. He gave her a prescription, told her she should search for a specialist and let them go back home. On the way back, Lex told her she shouldn't tell Mother.

"Mother doesn't believe in mental diseases. That's for the weak and she hates the weak."

Lena wanted to point out that Lillian already hated her anyway but her brother did enough for her for one day to get into a discussion with him. So, instead, Lena threw the prescription away and told Lillian she asked Lex to teach her how to drive and they spent the afternoon at a Walmart parking lot. Lillian wasn’t happy with that either, but she was never happy anyway.

Lena had many panic attacks after that first one. It was especially terrifying at first because Lena knew how bad it was, how it made her few like she was about to die, so she would freak out every time her heartbeat would peak for any reason or anytime she felt a tightness in her chest. She assumed that's why the therapy would come in handy, but she hadn't been brave enough to stand up against Lillian for twelve years and she wouldn’t start by demanding to be taken to a psychiatrist.

Instead, she found help in the only place that never failed to help her in times of need. Books.

Lena went to the library and she devoured every book that approached the subject. She took notes, she ate snacks, she made a pause to learn how to drive so Lillian wouldn’t be suspicious, but she learned all she could from those books. Over time, it got easier. She would be able to identify when it was about to happen, she learned breathing exercises, she acquired hobbies that helped calm down her heart rate instead of accelerating it, she started carrying a lavender extract air freshener in her bag, and, overall, she dealt with it by herself.

Lex, before he left home and assumed their father's position at the family's company, would sometimes help. He would engage her in chess matches, entertain her with anecdotes he found funny, explain something about his projects to her. It was almost like he knew what she was going through and he wanted to support her in his own way.

Ironic to think that the same boy who drove her to the hospital in the middle of a panic attack of his own, scared about losing his little sister, would one day become the cause of her panic attacks.

It first happened when she heard about the crimes Lex committed. The atrocities, all the deaths, the pain, the destruction. She knew her brother wasn’t a good person but she never imagined that he was a murderer – a genocidal one, in fact. So, when the first police officer knocked on her door to ask her questions after Lex's first attack, Lena did not react other than panic. Because that was her older brother, the man who taught her how to play chess and who made her life at the Luthor’s residence bearable, and then there was all this proof that the same man was a monster.

It happened again later that night, when she was alone and the words kept repeating in her mind. And it happened over and over again for the months that followed it, sometimes when she heard Lex’s name, sometimes when she saw a news report about it, twice during the trial she had to testify in, sometimes when she was alone and the silence became too loud.

That’s why she picked up her things and left for National City. A change of scenery, one of the articles said, can be the key to progress.

And things shifted and molded once she set foot in the new city. Between running around to build up a company from the ashes and dealing with the mess that was her personal life, Lena didn’t have enough time to think about anything else. She got better at the breathing exercises since she didn’t have enough time to distract herself with other things and, surprisingly, for the first time since she was sixteen, Lena felt like she could handle things just fine on her own.

Then she met Kara and things changed for real. Her first friend in the new city, her best friend in the entire world, made things easier for her. It was easier to breathe, it was easier to go through her day, it was easier to be. Lena never told Kara about her panic attacks – she told no one, actually. She always thought she might have to explain eventually if Kara walked inside her office one day to find her panting behind her desk but that never happened. Lena hadn’t had a panic attack since the day she met Kara and that was as concerning as it was alluring.

How could one person be both the solution and the cause of some of her biggest problems?

It made no sense. Lena would never understand the effect Kara had on her heart – her ability to make her heart beat faster on sight and calmer on demand. As though as she could trigger a panic attack with her smile but the calm feeling she brought with her made it impossible to happen. So, like many things in her life, Lena picked up the problem and, instead of dealing with it, she shoved it inside a box and then pushed it so deep inside her mind that it wasn’t even in the shadows.

(Like her abandonment issues, the frustrated dream of going to Disney only to have Lillian saying she couldn’t go, her fear of heights and the ocean, her trust issues and her undeniable feelings towards her best friend. All the above were securely locked inside her, never to see the light of the day.

For the long two years she had known Kara Danvers, Lena had forgotten how a panic attack could feel so... suffocating. Well, not entirely forgotten. More likely, lost in her memories, replaced by other bad feelings like facing death threats thanks to her own family, falling from buildings, piloting a helicopter, almost dying on a plane and it goes on. She almost had one when she shot Lex – when she found out the truth about the person she had trusted with the biggest parts of her soul, only to find out she had been lying this whole time. She certainly felt very close to having one when Kara confronted her at the Pulitzer. It almost happened when she finally told Kara she knew the truth for quite some time now right before trapping her at the Fortress of Solitude.

All those times the only thing that stopped it from happening was blue orbs staring right back at her. Even if filled with pain, confusion, or hurt, Kara still had the remarkable effect of sending calming waves all over her body. After shooting Lex; while in shock that Kara was admitting to a secret Lena thought she never would; while crying and begging for Lena’s forgiveness behind an impenetrable wall, even to her inhuman strength.

Kara wasn’t there that time though. There was only her, and Lex, and tons of experiments surrounding them, and a broken project on the floor, and a thousand lies.

“I gave you the world!” Lex’s breath was hot and wet from that close to her face. His eyes were so filled with rage, his skin trembling with the sheer force of it, that Lena couldn’t help but writhe under it. “Everything!” Even now, alone inside her apartment, sitting in the dark in complete silence, Lena could still feel the fury directed at her like a hot iron. “I supported you! I sabotaged nothing! Touched nothing! I sacrificed my own goals for you!” And then he lowered his voice, and he resembled his mother much more than their shared father in that second because Lillian Luthor never raised her voice but she always sent the message with the same intensity. “Because you needed to see your little project fail with your own eyes, to know the true depravity of humanity, to know that my way was the only way.”

It was fair to say that Lena couldn’t even remember what exactly she replied to her brother. All she knew was that she needed to get out, to get away from him, to escape. She said a few words, turned on her heels and made her escape without tripping on her own feet although her legs felt wobbly and, her muscles, unsteady. Once inside her house, Lena finally allowed herself to feel.

To feel.

What a weird concept, she thought while sliding down the wall of her bathroom, tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs shaking her body like there was an earthquake shaking her apart. Lena wasn’t good at recognizing and asserting her feelings, and it was even harder when all she felt was sorrow.

Sorrow for having trusted once more, sorrow for having made another mistake, sorrow for having believed, even for a second, that her brother could be different, that she could be different. That a Luthor could help change the world for good. She felt utterly stupid. There wasn’t a part of her cells that didn’t feel the disappointment, the sadness, the grief.

There was so much she needed to do to fix the mess she helped create. And the mix of suffocating feelings with the anxiety of making things right before Lex could destroy humanity eventually led her to an unstoppable panic attack, right there on her bathroom floor, with the shower still running on top of her, the night thick outside and the weight of the world on her shoulders. She knew it was coming from the moment she felt the sadly familiar tightness in her chest but there was nothing she could do to stop it this time.

The floor was cold beneath her, the water was too hot on top of her. Her sobs were shaking her to the core, her tears lost in the spray of the too hot water, her breath was short, shallow and too fast, her heart felt like it was trying to rip its way out of her chest, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute.

She needed to find a way to stop Lex – how could she have trusted him again? She would need help, she couldn’t do it alone. Lex had many friends and she had none – and whose fault was that, really? - Lex had control over every agency around the world now that he altered the timeline – and how did he even do that? - Lena would need to talk with Supergirl. Kara. Kara is Supergirl. Kara is Supergirl and she never told her that. Lex was the one who said it, not Kara, and he said it before Lena shot him.

But he wasn’t dead. Not anymore. He was right there, running the company that once belonged to her, making plans to control humanity like every person meant less than an ant and he was the only one capable of controling every single little thing. Did that analogy even make sense? She wouldn’t know. Her brain was barely functioning. Kara would have liked it either way.

Kara lied to her. For two years, the woman she called her best friend, invented lame excuses to leave her presence when she needed to be Supergirl and, for two years, Lena trusted her with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back. That’s exactly how she felt in that second as well. Blinded and bound, incapable of moving, breathing even.

Panic attacks can kill, Lena is factually aware of that because she strumbled on stories during her researches. It could cause real heart attacks, veins could burst, lungs could collapse, it could be a real mess albeit very rarely. The ‘very rarely’ part was hard to remember when her chest didn’t seem to expand enough to accommodate air, when her heart was beating so fast she could hear it pounding on her ears, when her arms felt as heavy as two concrete blocks, when her head hurt so bad she felt like it was about to explode.

“I gave you the world!”

He didn’t. Lies. Those were all lies.

“I sacrificed my own goals for you!”

Lies. They were lies.

“I supported you!”

No one had ever supported her before. How foolish of her to think she could do anything right. Lillian was right, she was a waste of space and time. Lex was right, she was a stupid girl who dreamed too much. Her father, who could barely glance at her most days, was most certainly right to avoid her as well. She was a defect, an error, a deficiency on a spinning wheel that she couldn’t control.

Everyone seemed to control her but Lena didn’t have control over anyone.

Was she in the shower or the bathtub? She felt like she was drowning. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning. She was going to die. The walls were closing around her. When did her bathtub get such huge walls? And when did it became so deep? Her lungs were filling with water, she was about to regurgitate the quick snack she ate earlier in the day, and she was going to die.

What a terrible way of going down, she thought between gasps for air and dry sobs. Naked and fallen in your bathroom. The paramedics will have a great laugh, at least. If she’s lucky enough, they won’t snap a picture as a memoir or to sell out to the journals. Although, in the new timeline they found themselves in, did anyone even care about who she was when Lex was the hero?

Guess she wouldn’t be around long enough to find out.

So lost in her own mind, trapped and tortured by it, it took Lena some precious seconds to realize the hot water wasn't hitting her shoulders anymore. Ironically, it made the drowning sensation increase to a laughable level. If she could laugh, that is.

In the back of her mind, behind Lex's scream, Lillian's sneers, her father's passive face, her mother's hand disappearing underwater, she heard it. It was faint, shushed by the cacophony of sounds already screaming inside her head, and it honestly felt like someone was talking with her underwater.

"Lena."

Lena wondered if that's how it felt to be pulled into a hurricane. If that would have the same spiral, out of control, out of body experience. She heard it, her name being called out in the void that had become the space around her, but she couldn't identify the voice or the source. Sometimes it was Lex, screaming into her face. Sometimes it was Lillian, calmly calling her out in all of her life’s failures. Sometimes it was Supergirl, melting and mixing with the woman she once called her best friend. Sometimes it was herself, calling out for help. Either way, it did nothing to soothe her.

"Lena."

They were all right. She wasn't worth it. None of it was actually worth it. Not her project, not her research, not her hard work, not even humanity. Nothing.

"Lena, look at me."

Her eyes were open. She knew that because they were burning like fire - either because of the water or because of the tears, she wasn't sure. But she couldn't focus them. It was like there was nothing to look at. Nothing there. She was alone, as usual. No one wished to be around a Luthor. No one. And people seemed to like to prove that theory using her as the character in a study.

"Please, tell me what's wrong."

Hard to know where to start, to be fair. Was there anything right in her life? Her mother was dead, her father was dead, Lillian hated her, Lex was a manipulative little bitch, Kara was a liar, Sam was miles and miles away taking care of her own life, she had no one else, everything she worked so hard for was gone, not even her house was the same. And she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. How could she still be thinking if she couldn't breathe?

"Are you hurt?"

Everywhere hurt. Every centimeter, as though someone had picked up a piece of wood and beat the crap out of her, albeit she had no recollection of that ever happening. Did that happen? Why was her body hurting like that? Why was her head hurting? And what's up with her chest? Was someone pressing it? Did anyone put a weight on it? What a stupid jerk, if so. Lena doesn't do sports, she can't lift it!

"Lena."

It sounded closer to the surface. Was someone pulling her out of the water? And when did she even get in the ocean? Lena doesn't swim.

"Lena?"

Uncertain. She could relate. And that tone made a bell ring inside her head. Her name, said in that intonation, with such uncertainty, by that voice. She heard it before. Where did she hear it before? Why was she hearing it now?

"Let me help you get up."

That pulled her right out of the water. It was like someone hooked a hand on the back of her neck and unceremoniously pulled her up. The difference was shocking, the reaction was visceral and she was left feeling exactly like a fish out of water.

"Don't touch me!"

She hadn't been touched, Lena realized a second later. Not yet, at least, but a pair of hands were reaching out for her and they were just an inch away before her loud yell stopped them. It came from deep inside her chest, her diaphragm expanding and burning before releasing all the fury like an animal - a scared, cornered animal. The hands retreated immediately and Lena was left to her own. Her ears rang with her scream and she was transported once again to her laboratory a few hours prior.

"Don't touch me," she repeated and it was like someone poked a balloon with a needle. All the anger, all the vice was gone. Left was the defeat, something she was used to but hurt just the same. "Please, don't touch me."

Silence. Despite her heart ringing in her ears, there was silence. Loud. Suffocating. Maddening.

"Okay." She breathed out of water for the first time in what felt like ages. "Okay, I won't."

The air was thick with steam and Lena was reminded of the shower she was supposed to be having. The heavy breaths, the racing heart, the pounding head, it was all still there, and it didn't get any better when she remembered she was naked, sitting on the cold tiles of her bathroom floor, not alone anymore and not in the dark. Was she not alone for long? Had she moved at some point? Her legs were firmly pressed against her chest, her knees raising so high that she could rest her chin on them and, thankfully, it meant all her front was covered, and it also felt like her muscles had been stuck in that position for years, so maybe she hadn't moved. But she also didn't know when she got company. How did she get company? All her doors were locked. She lived on the fifth floor and, even so, the windows were closed.

"Can I..." How did she get inside? "Here, just let me..."

There was shuffling around, the sound of fabric scraping together and Lena was once again reminded of how sensitive her ears got while in the middle of her crisis. Suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts, she felt something falling over her shoulders and back. Whatever it was, it was heavy, soft and warm, and it helped to set her mind back in the present, her eyes focused, her head snapped up and her breath hitched.

And then she saw her. Well, rationally, Lena knew she was there all along, but her brain wasn't exactly functioning the right way so it was only fair it took her so much time to see Kara Danvers standing in front of her. Not so much standing, the woman was crouching, in fact, her arms reaching out around Lena and her hands holding the edges of something she assumed was the same thing that was draped over her shoulder.

Her former best friend's face was contorted in worry. The crinkle between her brows was prominent, the bright blue eyes were clouded in concern, her lips were tightly pursed in a thin line, and Lena was hooked by her look almost immediately. It was good to have something else to concentrate on, she tried to argue with herself, as though it would explain why her eyes kept moving around Kara’s face like she was a damn Michelangelo sculpture.

The hands didn’t touch her, successfully avoiding her skin after her explosion, but Lena still thought they were too close for comfort. The ends of whatever was dropped on top of her came to lay on her knees, in front of her arms, and Lena noticed that it skillfully covered all of her body. Curious, she forced her eyes to stop staring at blue ones and look down, albeit the pressure on her throat did no good to her current panicking state.

Red. Red like Supergirl’s cape. Lena panted quite heavily when she recognized that it was, in fact, Supergirl’s cape. Now being used as a blanket to cover her naked body, something she never thought would happen. The material felt harsh against her sensitive, reddened skin, brushing against her in an almost painful way. It was also heavier than it looked, definitely pushing her shoulders down and ruining her posture. But, oh, so warm. So warm.

“Lena, what happened? Can you tell me?”

Her eyes moved back at the blonde force of nature standing in front of her. The rest of the suit was missing, Lena realized, although not sure why her brain decided to jolt back to life to realize that specific detail. Kara was wearing jeans and a black deo sweatshirt that looked so soft that Lena wished she could bury her face in it and never let go. If Kara would still be wearing the sweater while she did that, well, that would just be a bonus.

“Talk to me, please. I’m worried.”

She certainly looked like it, Lena’s mushed thoughts wanted her to say. With a grimace, Kara indeed looked as worried as she could get. Her features reminded Lena of other times – of crashing helicopters, assassination attempts, falling from rooftops - all of which she hadn’t control over but she had Supergirl around to save her and make things easier. It was hard to associate the worried face of her best friend with the unbreakable pose of the superhero, even more so when they were blending together right now in front of her.

"Okay, Lena, you have to take deep breaths." No shit, she wanted to say. Do you think I enjoy breathing those shallow breaths that makes me gasp and leaves me desperate for more air? Not at all. It's not like her body was cooperative either.

"Can you do that?"

Lena didn't particularly feel like she would ever be able to breathe normally again. Rationally, she knew it would all go away in a few moments - leaving behind the dull ache in her chest and the bad feelings to deal with. However, stuck in her own mind, unable to breathe, fully panicking and totally lost, Lena was certain she was either going to live the rest of her life like that or that she was about to die - which, come to think about it, were actually one and the same.

Establishing that did nothing to help her calm down, unfortunately.

"Here, try with me."

She didn't want to. Lena truly didn't want to. She wanted, needed, Kara to move. She felt cornered, her back pressed against the wall and Kara in front of her. Her breath wasn't going to ease anytime soon while she was feeling like that. When Kara could so easily just... scream at her face, yell, grab, hurt. No, she needed space.

"Get out," her voice was hoarse, out of breath, and held none of the commands she intended it to have. Of course, the woman didn't move. "Get out."

To no avail. Her second request also fell on deaf ears. Well, selective ears, more likely. "I know you're mad at me, but you're clearly not okay so I'm not leaving you alone."

Lena didn't want to be alone. She just wanted to see the door. She wanted to see the exit and know there was a way out. Although, considering the inhuman force standing in front of her, was there really a way out? She couldn’t push Kara away, she wasn't strong enough. Supergirl was an unmovable object and Lena was no unstoppable force.

That was clearly the wrong route for her thoughts to take. Her already short breath became more erratic, her vision blurred and her chest tightened so painfully that she couldn’t help but think she was wrong and it was indeed a heart attack.

"Move," she choked. She was drowning again, faster than before. And who gave Kara the right to push her back in the water after taking her out?

For the second time.

Fortunately, Kara seemed to understand what she meant. At least, parts of it. Because she moved, taking a step to the side the best she could on her still crouching position. For a second, she just stopped there, eying Lena with bright blue eyes and furrowed brows, before she ducked her head.

"Please, tell me how I can help you."

Lena needed help. She could do it without it but she would be better sooner if she accepted the help. She didn't deserve - the soft voice, the worried face, the cape getting wet against her damp skin - but Kara was still there and Lena could be selfish for a few more minutes just so she could breathe again.

"The water."

The blonde was up to her feet in less than a second - literally, even. Lena would blame the adrenaline rush for her achievement, but she was able to shoot her hand out and grab Kara's hand before she could go farther away. Confused, the woman looked down. Broken, Lena looked up.

"Don't."

There was a pause, precious seconds being wasted, before Kara's eyes widened slightly and her other hand moved to turn the shower faucet again. The water hit Lena's back like thunder, sending electricity all over her nerves. It was hot, hotter than it was healthy to be, and it burned more painfully than she was comfortable with. But it pulled her out of the ocean again, it put the floor back under her feet, and Lena allowed the small comfort to wash over her.

Kara just stood there, her shoes getting wetter and the legs of her pants getting damp with the water splashing on the tiles, but she didn't move. Lena realized she was wearing comfortable sweatpants and a DEO hoodie that made her wonder what her former best friend was doing before showing up in her bathroom. How could she have her cape and not the rest of her suit? Kara just blinked down at her.

Then Lena let her hand drop back to her knee, releasing Kara from her hold - although, Kara could have freed herself just as easily. That seemed to bring the tall blonde back to life because she instantly moved out of the way again, leaving enough room so Lena could see the shower glass door and the bathroom’s wooden door. Her way out.

"You still need to take deep breaths."

"I-I-I-I ca-can't," Lena shook her head as she spoke, which didn't help with getting the words out.

There was a deep sigh all of sudden and she was almost offended to realize it had come from Kara. But then the other woman was moving again before her eyes could focus on her face and Lena was left to imagine if she was annoyed or not. Probably so. She probably realized Lena didn't deserve her help and that she got her sneakers wet for nothing.

Just as Lena was about to sob again, Kara sank by her side. Quite literally, she was standing one second, and then sliding by her side using the wall to support herself in the next one. Lena could only watch when the blonde sat by her side like the shower wasn't getting her clothes completely wet as well, like her loose hair wasn't clinging onto her skin and messing up her curly strands, like she wasn't sitting beside a naked and panicking woman.

Before Lena could even ask what the hell she was doing - if she could even find her voice - Kara reached her right hand out until she grasped Lena's left one. For a second, it felt like a complete stranger was touching her, like they had never touched before. It took a second, and then Kara's hand was like a rock against her trembling ones and Lena let herself be guided until her palm was resting against the woman's sternum. Kara held her hand there firmly as though she was afraid Lena would try to pull away, though she wasn't sure she could even move at that moment.

"Here, with me. In." Lena tried. "In, Lena. Deep breath in, come on, you can do it. In." Her lungs expanded and Kara nodded, copying her movement almost exaggeratedly. "Now out, slowly." She tried but it came out shaky and unsteady, so she gave up in the middle of it, letting out a huff of breath. "Again." Against Kara's chest, her hand followed the movements of her muscles and she tried to force her lungs to match the same pace.

Tired, Lena closed her eyes and let her head fall back until it hit the wall behind her. The water was now cascading down her face and neck, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She had managed to get on the safety boat and Kara was slowly pulling her back to shore.

"Does counting help?" She shook her head no. "Silence?" Another shake, more urgent this time. "Okay, I guess the blasting rock music should have been my tip-off."

Lena chuckled. It held no real humor - because she didn't find any amusement in that - but she still felt the need to let the other woman know the distraction was appreciated. Before a panic attack would start, silence, breathing exercises and calming music would do wonders to her. But after it was already happening, there wasn't much she could do to help herself.

"Maybe it could help?" Kara offered gently. "Not blasting rock on your stereo, but some music, I mean. I could go put it on."

"No," Lena shook her head again. Her breathing had started to even out, albeit it peaked again under the prospect of being alone again.

"Okay." Kara squeezed the hand she was holding. "Tell me what I can do to help."

Lena breathed in and out twenty more times - she counted them as her muscles started to lose some of the tension - before she released a deep sigh. "You already are. Just... Just stay here."

“I’m here,” the blonde stated without an ounce of doubt in her voice, or any indication that she might not be there any time soon, so Lena allowed herself to focus on her breaths.

Kara didn’t let go of her hand and she didn’t try to recover it, and it took her a few seconds to realize that was the first time in almost a year that they were touching each other. Lena wasn’t sure whose fault that was anymore – not when her brain was still foggy. All she knew, all too well, was the pain still lingering in her chest, poking her wounds, breaking her walls at the same time it put two bricks at a time to replace the one that went down. And Lena learned that it was the only thing worth carrying around because it was the only thing that made you wiser – the good feelings make you weaker, Lillian would say.

“This might cheer you up,” the woman beside her commented suddenly and Lena almost jumped out of her skin – for a second, she forgot someone was keeping her company in her very large bathroom. “I beat Alex’s ass today. We were sparring. I won. Don’t believe her if she tries to tell you otherwise.”

Lena was sure she was lying. It was quite obvious when Kara was lying. Her voice got just a note higher and she spoke in broken sentences, as though her mind couldn’t form a complete long-phrase and would just come up with things as she spoke. Lena knew that. She had noticed that little quirk of her friend a few months into their friendship. It still amazed her how long she allowed herself to be blinded by Kara’s secret just because she thought...

What did she think, exactly? That Kara wouldn’t lie to her? That Kara was different from every other person who had ever been a part of her life? Even when she knew when her friend was lying? Even when she knew Kara’s voice enough to know when she was hiding something?

Who was the real idiot there?

Feeling overly exposed to those intrusive thoughts that were doing nothing to help her, Lena hugged the red cape closer around her body and shivered. Although the water falling from the shower was hot, it wasn’t enough to keep the soaked cape warm enough to keep her body temperature high, neither was the cold floor against her naked skin helping in any way. She wasn’t about to move, though.

“I was doing my laundry when I heard your heartbeat spike.”

The admission sounded quieter and almost shy, but Lena didn’t have the strength to look over at the woman who used to know all of her secrets – and offered only lies in exchange – to see it herself. Instead, she kept breathing in a perfect match with Kara. In and out. In and out. Hold in, slowly out.

“I tried to call your phone, but you didn’t answer. I called your name, but I didn’t get a response. I thought you were dying, so I panicked and broke your balcony door. I will fix it, promise.”

Lena almost laughed at that. She tried to picture it, the puppy reporter holding a shovel or mixing cement. The prospect of having Supergirl doing it was even funnier. And, for God’s sake, Kara Danvers is Supergirl and she had to hear it from Lex after she shot him.

“I thought I was dying too,” Lena confessed in a weak whisper that was barely audible.

Kara’s thumb was doing circles on the back of her hand and on the side of her wrist. For how long she had no idea, but that seemed to be the last paddles taking her to shore. “What happened?”

“I gave you the world! Everything!”

She could still feel it. His breath against her face, his saliva hitting her skin, his voice ringing against her ears, resounding on her head, breaking her down. Lex himself had never laid a finger on her. Over the years he had paid numerous men to try and take her life – and how many of those attempts were stopped by Supergirl? – but her own brother never physically assaulted her. Words, on the other hand, were his biggest weapon and Lex was a master at operating his guns.

He learned that from Lillian, as did Lena, ironically. Although the three of them were very different from each other. While Lillian held venom in her words, she never raised her voice. Lena had seen her in many levels of anger throughout her life, but she never saw her scream or yell. Lex dealt with things like her total opposite. He wouldn’t scream at every corner, however, he would get frustrated very easily and his way to lash out was to yell and let it all out. Meanwhile, Lena used sarcasm and some very well-made phrases.

She had only screamed once out of anger and it had been into Supergirl’s face right before she locked her away like an animal. Lena didn’t think she would have been able to scream if she was confronting Kara instead. Sweet, innocent Kara, although now she knew the truth. Now, months later, she wasn’t even sure she could scream at Supergirl again.

“Lena, breath in and out with me.”

Her breathing had accelerated again. It made sense, Lena thought with a generous amount of bitterness. Thinking about Lex and Lillian did that to her. “I think I’m going to puke.” As soon as she said it, her stomach made a sickening churn and she heaved a dry gasp. There was no thinking. She was going to puke.

“Can I help you get to the toilet?”

The other alternative was puking all over Supergirl’s cape. And maybe the idea was a little appealing, she wasn’t going to lie, but she also didn’t wish to puke all over herself. So instead Lena nodded and, in a blink, Kara slid from her sitting position to the same crouching stance she had before. This time, she held Lena's hand still close to her chest before she searched for the other one underneath her own cape. Lena was in no condition to be self-aware of her nudity or the fact that her former best friend was brushing much more skin than she was comfortable with.

“Here, I will pull you up and carry you.”

Lena wanted to protest but the bile was already high on her throat, her legs were still shaking and her head was spinning. Nodding, she let herself be pulled up to a standing position. In that second, many things went through her head – she was going to puke right then and there, the cape was sliding off her shoulders and her front was definitely naked, and Kara was very, very impressively holding her up since Lena had no strength on her muscles. The blonde let go of one of her hands so she could use the other one to adjust the cape around the smaller quivering woman before she easily scooped her into her arms and stepped out of the shower.

They were both wet and water started dripping on the floor immediately. However, Lena was not going to worry about it when her body was rebelling against her. Kara kneeled on the floor, taking the brunette with her like she weighed less than a penny, and Lena was hovering over the toilet a second later. She hadn’t eaten anything after the quick snack earlier that day, Lena remembered too late, because all that rose in her throat was liquid mixed with bile that left a burning trail on the way. She panted a couple of times, emptying her already empty stomach, until all she could do was cough.

“Breathe,” Kara reminded her softly and she came to realize the woman was sitting behind her on the floor, holding her wet hair up and out of the way, drawing soothing circles on her back. “Do you need to go to the hospital? I can take you.”

“N-No.”

“Or maybe the DEO, if you prefer,” the not-so-secret-anymore hero tried again. “Or Alex. I can call Alex or take you to her.”

“Kara,” Lena interrupted her, one of her hands letting go of the sides of the toilet to touch the woman’s thigh behind her – the only place she could reach in their position. Her mind felt much lighter now that her body had made the last rebel act against her. “I will be fine. It’s a panic attack. I’ve had them before, it’s fine.” That came out all shaky and broken as she fought to get enough breath to say the words.

Strong fingers closed around hers on a strong thigh. “I don’t know what to do, please tell me what I can do to help.”

Lena sighed, her entire body losing the rest of strength it had and falling on her knees on the floor. She let her upper body rest against the side of the toilet, trying to ignore the smell coming from it, as her fingers dug into a muscular thigh so hard that she was sure her knuckles were white. She closed her eyes and ran her other hand against her forehead to try to stop the drops of water and sweat from reaching her eyes.

She was allowed to be selfish for just a while longer.

“Alex kicked your ass, didn’t she?”

There was a startled silence behind her before a huff was heard, the warm breath hitting the side of her face. “She wishes. I totally won. Big time.”

The worst liar who ever existed – and Lena was the fool who fell for every single one of them. “Where’s the rest of your suit?”

“Washing.”

“I made the suit myself,” Lena reminded her. “It uses nanotechnology. You don’t have to wash it.”

“No need to brag, geez.”

Lena laughed. She just couldn’t help it. When was the last time she laughed? She couldn’t tell. It happened so long ago that she didn’t even remember that. One thing she was sure of: it was definitely because of Kara. And there she was again.

“Like I said, I was sparring with Alex. She insists I use my cape so I can learn how to escape if anyone grabs it.” Kara sighed. “She also said I should have kept the skirt and removed the cape.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I still have the skirt somewhere if she wants to use it and see how it feels like.”

The younger woman scoffed and opened her eyes again. Her heart wasn’t beating so fast anymore, the worst of it seemed to be over, but her chest still felt tight. “You were wearing the cape with a hoodie?”

Kara looked down at her own outfit like she hadn’t noticed it before. Her clothes were soaked and clinging into her body, but she just shrugged. “I like the hoodie, it’s comfy.”

“Well, it’s better than what I have right now,” Lena avoided looking down because the last thing she needed was to see how very much naked she was in the presence of the woman she was once in love with.

Although it still felt like she was, being completely and utterly honest. Lena could lie to people around her but she wasn’t going to lie to herself. If she didn’t have any type of romantic feelings towards Kara, she would never have been blind enough to miss the huge piece of information that was almost screamed into her face every day. And if she had got over said feelings, she wouldn’t have followed Kara out to offer her condolences over Jeremiah’s death, neither would she spend two hours in a bookstore trying to find the perfect book, neither would she still have Kara’s photo in her phone and a perfect copy on her table.

 “Do you want me to grab you something to wear?” Kara asked softly, as though she was also noticing for the first time that the other woman was naked – though, she did go out of her way to cover her when she got there.

Lena tossed the idea around her head a couple of times before she nodded. “Just... don’t be long.” How pathetic. Lillian would have smirked at her, the same smirk that made her feel like she was worth less than gum on her shoe. Lex would have laughed in her face.

“Two seconds, I promise.”

It took her two seconds, indeed. The gush of wind from her departure was not even gone before Kara was back, holding a change of clothes in her hands. She put it by the sink before stepping back with a shy smile.

“I will let you change, but I will be just outside, okay?”

“Kara, I-“ Lena closed her eyes in shame. “I don’t think I can stand by myself without puking again.”

Or passing out. Or starting another attack. Or wishing to throw herself from the closest window. Either way, Kara seemed to understand because she approached her again, this time with both hands extended in front of her body. Lena took them without a second thought, as though trusting Kara came as second nature to her – something she thought she had forgotten almost a year ago. The blonde helped her to her feet and Lena had to let go of one of her hands to hold the cape in front of her chest to keep it wrapped around herself.

She must be a view, she thought then. Wet, eyes swollen because of the tears, panic still lingering at the corners of her eyes and wrapped around Supergirl’s cape. She must have looked even more ridiculous than she felt.

Once standing, Kara held her hand for a few more seconds. “Are you good?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Your heartrate is spiking again.”

Lena nodded. “I’m still in the middle of it. It will take a while to wear off.”

“What else can I do?” She had no answer for that and Kara clearly had no idea what to do, so she kept talking because that’s what she did. “What if I make you some tea? Would that help?”

“I guess.”

“Okay, good.” Kara nodded and took a step back, ready to get the new task in her hands done.

“Just...” the brunette sighed. “Just don’t close the door.”

Kara didn’t, and even if Lena was a little self-conscious about it, she was also thankful. Still shaking, she found herself a towel in the cabinet and let the hero’s cape fall from her body so she could get dry. Lena tried to do it as fast as she could. She could hear Kara moving around her kitchen and suddenly her bathroom felt too suffocating. She needed to get out.

Once completely dried, she picked the clothes Kara brought her. Yoga pants that she hadn’t worn since the last time she went to spinning classes – which, ironically enough, happened with Kara by her side – and a hoodie that Lena knew all too well. The gray sweater from National City University that belonged to Kara. The woman loaned her that when she found Lena drunkenly slurring her words out, drinking wine in her dark apartment, and turns out Lena never gave it back to her.

It’s not like she stole it. It’s just she wasn’t going to give it back to her friend without washing it first, but then she didn’t want to run any risks of ruining it, so she was going to do that separate from the other clothes. When she finally realized it, a month had gone by and they were having the third movie night where Lena was wearing the sweater and Kara had yet to say a thing. When she tried to give it back, Kara said she should make it her official movie night uniform.

Lena would never admit to wearing that sweater when she missed Kara during their fall-out, but she was also not going to deny it.

Either way, Kara had opened her closet – her ridiculously large closet – and between all the options, she chose her National City University hoodie for Lena to wear. That was, admittedly, the only hoodie Lena had, but she had other sweaters and long sleeve shirts Kara could have picked.

God, Lena was really going to grasp onto thin hopes, wasn’t she?

The bile was still burning in the back of her throat, so she moved to the sink next so she could brush her teeth, half wishing she could also have a mint or something. Even without it, she felt remarkably better already.

Kara was leaning against the counter with her right hip, dipping the tea bag inside her favorite mug - something ridiculously colorful with chemical elements all over that the woman herself gave Lena because it "reminded me of you" - and her face was serious, as though she was truly putting all her attention in not screwing up the task in her hands. She had pulled her hair in a ponytail to lock away the wet, messy curls, and her clothes seemed a bit drier, like she somehow had put it to fast dry while Lena changed. More likely she just used her breath or ran around for a few seconds. Her left hand was stuffed inside the pocket of her sweatpants, her jaw was set and Lena could see, even from the distance, that she was frowning as well.

And there was something in the way she just stood there, looking completely out of place and totally belonging there at the same time that just clicked something deep inside Lena.

Something she had buried away a long time ago, shoved inside a box and pushed it deep, deep, deep in her mind.

She could admit she had made a mistake when she started working with Lex, and she could admit she made a mistake when she locked Kara inside her own fortress, and she could admit she made a mistake when she closed her eyes to the truth screaming right into her face. She could admit she fell in love with Kara, she could admit she tried to fight it, she could admit it only broke her heart more than if she had talked with Kara about it. She could admit many things, but she would never admit how many times she dreamed about the scene in front of her. Dreamed about the domesticity that she always wished for, but never voiced.

“Are you feeling better?” Kara asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. The blonde had straightened her body against the counter, she picked up the mug between her long fingers and tried to smile, although it was constricted and uneasy.

Feeling better? Lena hadn’t felt better in almost a year. She felt angry, and lonely, and empty most of the time, and none of those feelings had washed away. They still hadn't. Those were some long months. It was a long time to spend alone, trying to find your way in a world you thought you knew while it seemed to be burning around you. It was a long time missing your friends, your found family, the days where everything was simpler. It was a long time battling to do good and hold everything together when you had no idea how to hold yourself together.

At least, she could breathe, unlike ten minutes ago when she was heaving desperate breaths on her bathroom floor.

So, she nodded. And Kara smiled a bit softer, and her next breath came a bit easier. At that moment, while her former best friend took a few steps closer to hand her the tea and offered her a smile she hadn’t seen in a long time, Lena realized she was remorseful. After everything that happened in the last hours, after another disappointment and another day missing and aching something that she lost, all she could feel was remorse.

She should apologize. She could try, at least. Ask for forgiveness after doing the things she did. Kara had a big heart – the biggest she ever saw – and maybe, just maybe, she would find it in herself the possibility to forgive her. Something that Lena hadn’t been able to do a year ago when she shot Lex and found out the truth.

But, then again, it was her own fault for closing her eyes to the truth for so long. It was obvious – painfully obvious – and she told herself over and over again that she was crazy for even considering it to be real. Perhaps she had been angrier at herself than at Kara. Perhaps she was just angry in general. After a year, it was hard to remember.

She picked up the mug from Kara’s hand, making sure they wouldn’t touch, before she took two steps back so fast that it was like she had been burned. Kara noticed it, of course she did, and her expression hardened again when she also took a few steps back. The blonde hero leaned back against the counter while Lena fought the urge to run and hide. Instead, she felt the coldness of a wall behind her and let her back rest there as she slowly brought the cup to her lips.

The tea was made the exact way she liked it, she noticed when the hot liquid touched her tongue. With just a splash of milk, no sugar, strong. Lena took a long sip as she avoided looking at Kara again. Her mind chose that moment to remind her that her former best friend had just witnessed a very real mental breakdown she had in her bathroom, that she had seen her crying naked on the floor, that she had begged not to be alone.

If she had trouble facing Kara with all the regrets from before, now she could barely stay in the same room as her.

“Do you want something to eat?”

Lena almost pointed out that she had barely eaten for almost a year. She used to have Kara dropping by at lunch or dinner with a bag of food to remind her to take a break and eat, but there was no one there to do it once Kara was gone.

Not gone, Lena reminded herself. Sent away.

Instead, she shook her head and took another sip of her tea. It was vanilla, which was a weird choice for that hour of the day. She usually likes drinking vanilla tea after lunch, black tea in the morning, and chamomille at night. Those were things Kara didn’t know, she thought. They hadn’t shared enough breakfasts for her to know it, and she was always gone when Lena indulged herself with a tea after lunch.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Again, she shook her head.

“I supported you! I sabotaged nothing! Touched nothing! I sacrificed my own goals for you!”

Lena closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the steam leaving the mug to let the smell wash over her. Lex had bad breath. Always had, if she was going to be honest. She remembers noticing it even when she was a kid and he was reading her books in bed, waiting for her to sleep when in reality she was too entranced in the story to actually do it. After she grew up, she started thinking if his bad breath was caused by his putrid soul. A manifestation of his rotten interior, as funny as it sounded. Either way, she could still feel his breath against her face and it made her stomach churn again.

“I should go.”

She hadn’t realized she had opened her eyes until she was blessed by the sight of a slightly annoyed Kara. The hero was unhappy, probably because of her lack of response, and she had pushed herself from the counter as though she was actually going to start walking away.

Away from Lena. Again.

Away.

“No,” she found herself saying before she could think about it.

No, don’t go.

No, don’t leave.

No, don’t walk away.

No, don’t leave me alone.

She could say any of the above and they would all be the truth. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She still had her pride, although faltered. Instead, Lena looked down to the dark floor of her kitchen and tried not to purse her lips in the same way Lillian hated.

"You can yell at me all you want later," she declared. “I just... I can’t be alone. It could... It could happen again.”

It wasn’t unusual, Lena thought to herself. Her panic attacks always came in pairs, which was a bit ironic considering Lena herself barely had any friends. And, even when she managed to avoid the second one, the feelings eating her inside still wouldn’t leave for days on end. And it wasn’t like she couldn’t be alone. She could, she had been alone for most of her panic attacks since she first started having them, but she didn’t want to. Not when Kara was there again. Not when she was sorry and Kara was there.

"I'm not going to yell at you.” That wasn’t what Lena was waiting to hear. She was expecting some lame excuse or no answer at all as Kara walked away. She wasn’t ready for what she heard.

"Please,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes because, of course, Kara would yell. Lex had yelled, her father had yelled, Lillian had yelled in her own quiet way. And it wasn’t like Kara didn’t deserve to let her frustrations with Lena out. “You can scream, say I'm worthless, call me names, say you hate me. Yell whatever you want later,” Lena shrugged and sighed. “Right now I just..."

Need you to stay and keep my mind busy.

She didn’t have the chance to say it, though. Kara interrupted her before she could, her voice firm and only slightly raised. "I don't hate you.” Their eyes locked from across the room. Kara was frowning, her hands had gripped the counter behind her, and her face was hard. When she spoke next, her words were calmer, although they held the same intention. “I might not agree with everything you did but I don't hate you.” Another pause, this time her voice came out broken and uncertain. “Do you hate me?"

Maybe. Lena wasn’t sure she ever hated Kara, albeit it was easy to think she did.

Kara had always brought most of her feelings from within her. The good was easy to see. Her loyalty to her only friend in a new city, her happiness, her love. Those were easy to feel and, even more, good to feel. After she accepted that Kara was the person that would make her feel more than anyone else in her life, Lena even bathed herself in those new things. But, it turned out, Kara also made her feel the max out of the bad as well. The rejection, the betrayal, the hurt.

And those were hard to feel. Those feelings she didn’t want to feel.

She did, though.

And perhaps it made her hate Kara for a second.

"Hate is the only thing I was taught was okay to feel," Lena admitted lowly, her breath blowing away the fog coming from the mug at the same time her eyes moved to the big glass door across the room. Outside, the night was heavy, the clouds were probably hiding the stars and the moon was only showing its right side. Inside, the tension was just as heavy, the hurt was hiding Lena’s true feelings and the tea was now lukewarm.

It felt like a lifetime ago when Kara first waltzed in her life, bringing the sun and all its shine with her. Certainly felt more than a year.

Inside, there was Kara, standing in front of her after a year of doing everything she could to keep her distance. Inside her apartment, there was Kara, strong and determined. Inside her heart, Kara was being pushed away by a monster called hurt, although she refused to leave. Not for the first time, Lena wondered if she would ever heal. Maybe she was too broken already. She felt hollow. She had felt like that for a long time now.

“Lena, do you hate me?”

The question was made with so much hesitation that Lena felt her heart sink, skip a beat, and start running at the same time. She was sorry, God, she was so damn sorry. But she was so hurt too. It was a lot to feel for someone that hadn’t felt much all her life. Or maybe she had felt too much all her life.

It was hard to say.

“No.” The admission came easier than it should have, Lena thought to herself. She did hate Kara, for only a second and only because hate was something she knew how to feel since she was a child. But it was only for a second. Enough to make her lose her breath and make some terrible decisions. Enough to make her scream and lock Kara away, and then lose herself. Enough to make her hate herself. “God. I tried, I tried so hard to hate you, what you did, your lies, your actions, your betrayal. But I can't. I can’t hate you.”

For whatever reason, she looked back to the other woman. Kara’s eyes were still hard, her brows were still furrowed, her lips were still pushed together in a thin line, but there was a small glint in her eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. She didn’t look angry exactly, but she didn’t look happy either. Lena suddenly remembered the face that had looked at her inside her bathroom – concerned and desperate to help – and she almost wished it back. She remembered the cape draped on her shoulders and the soft hand grasping at hers. She remembered lies next and it all came crashing down.

“Do you want to?” Kara asked eventually.

She didn’t look like she actually wanted the answer for that and Lena didn’t truly want to give her one. She did, however. Because her chest was still too tight and her thoughts were jumbled and her heart was aching for the past year and her sun hadn’t shone ever since.

“Yes.” Kara looked surprised, only for a second, before she started looking angry and Lena could almost hear her voice raising to yell at her next – and she deserved it, didn’t she? She decided to talk faster to avoid it regardless of that. “It would be easier than loving you.” The hero now looked shocked and Lena huffed a humorless laugh at that. “I’m sure it would hurt less.”

That was a lie. She couldn’t be sure it would hurt less. She hoped it would hurt less because, right now, it hurts like a bitch and it was hard to think it could be worse than that. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel. Or maybe it would. It tended to have a great laugh with her.

“Lena...”

Lena shrugged, took another sip of her lukewarm tea and sighed. When she looked up again, Kara had moved. She had taken a couple of steps closer before she stopped, took three steps back, then moved forward again. She came to a halt in the middle of Lena’s ridiculously big kitchen, with her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to say something but had no idea what to say, and Lena almost laughed.

Almost.

She didn’t, though. Because she felt more like crying than laughing for almost a year now.

“I will have your cape washed and return it tomorrow,” she said, took a deep breath, and reached out to put her mug down and crossed her arms. “I hope you don’t mind if I use...” coconut soap. That was what she was going to say and it would be more out of depracative humor than actual concern for Kara’s soap preferences, but the words died at the back of her throat when she noticed that the blonde was moving again.

Closer.

Really close.

Somehow, closer than they had been inside her bathroom because, in there, Kara had touched her hand and nothing else. In the kitchen, her former best friend suddenly raised her hand to touch Lena’s jaw.

“What are you doing?” she asked and she sounded completely out of breath as though she was in the middle of a new panic attack. Which wouldn’t be surprising. There wasn’t a mirror around, but Lena could picture the surprise on her face and the panic behind her eyes as she waited for Kara’s response.

“I just...” Blue eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips, then back to her eyes, and Kara looked so lost that Lena almost asked her if she needed to sit down and take a breath. “I just need to try something.”

Kara’s lips were softer than they looked, which came as a shock. Lena gasped the first time she felt them touching hers and her eyes widened as her arms fell to her side, not sure what was even going on. Kara tasted like a matcha green latte from Starbucks – and Lena hated matcha with all her being – and onion ring chips that she remembered were one of Kara’s favorite snacks. She smelled a bit like sweat and deodorant, and she kind of kissed Lena’s teeth at first before their lips touched.

Lena always imagined their first kiss – and, yes, she had thought about it like an obsessed person since she first met the blonde – would be the sweetest thing ever, with fireworks exploding in the background, racing hearts and shy giggles. Things she saw in the romantic comedies she watched on numerous movie nights because she knew Kara liked them. Things she had never experienced herself, but thought they would happen when she kissed the woman she had fallen in love with so deeply.

That wasn’t the case.

There were no fireworks and it wasn’t sweet either. Her heart was racing, though. One thing checked. The kiss was heavy with hurt and a year of distance. The giggles didn’t come. It was hard, and messy, and out of sync, and Lena felt almost angry at Kara for taking that fantasy away from her. For crushing another thing in her life.

Instead, she tried to take it back by biting the blonde’s bottom lip hard enough to make her gasp, by raising one hand to grab the back of Kara’s neck to pull her close at the same time she pulled her hair harder than was necessary, by raising her other hand to grasp at the front of her hoodie to both tug her closer and push her away. Instead, she swallowed Kara’s gasp and shoved her tongue inside her mouth. Instead, she tried to hate Kara at the same time she loved her.

Instead, she only hated herself.

Kara pushed her back against the wall she was leaning against, kissing her back as hard as she was, but Lena didn’t allow her to take any control away from her. She felt a strong hand holding her hip as the other one cupped her face. Their push and pull lasted about a minute before they both realized there was no point in fighting it. No point in pushing.

Like wildfire in a dry forest, there was no way to stop it.

Kara’s hand was suddenly under her sweater – Kara’s borrowed sweater – touching her still damp skin and raising goosebumps everywhere she touched. Then her own hands were pulling Kara’s hoodie away, then her legs were wrapping around a slim waist, strong arms were picking her up, soft lips were kissing her neck and white teeth were biting her skin, and Lena felt the fire explode.

Inside, outside, everywhere.

She felt underwater again. She couldn’t hear anything other than the thunder her heart was creating inside her chest, and she wasn’t sure she was feeling anything other than the wandering hand beneath her clothes. Was there even anything else to feel? To hear?

“Lena?”

Lena didn’t open her eyes, even when her brain caught up with the distance Kara added between them. She had been barely able to feel Kara’s lips before, but she missed them once they were gone. She missed the warmth, the softness, even the taste. And she missed Kara’s hand once her former best friend removed it from the cold skin of her ribs.

“Lena? Your heartrate is spiking again.”

Kara sounded scared, although Lena had no idea why. She had witnessed a panic attack just a few minutes prior. Surely, she should know Lena wouldn’t die by now.

“Lena?”

She should do something about it. Take her mind away off it before it became a real, full-on panic attack that would consume her again.

“Onion ring chips.”

“Uh?”

Lena almost smiled at the confusion she could hear in Kara’s voice. She tilted her head down to hide the grin that insisted to appear, grabbed the blonde’s hoodie even harder and made sure that Kara knew she wasn’t supposed to pull away any further by tightening her hold at the nape of her neck. No point in pushing.

“You taste like onion ring chips.”

“Oh,” it was just a release of her breath, either in relief or more confusion, but Lena could picture Kara’s face perfectly even with her eyes closed – a crinkle between her brows, big blue eyes, pink lips pushed together. “Yeah, I, uh, I was eating before I came.” Blinking her eyes open, Lena sighed, nodded distractedly and tried to focus on everything she could see. Blue eyes, the crinkle, the tiny scar, pink lips, a black hoodie that was way softer than it looked, a faint blush. “Your heart is quite fascinating,” Kara mumbled under her breath when she raised one hand to fiddle with her glasses.

Lena immediately missed her touch. She wouldn’t, however, voice that. She could have, a year ago, but not anymore. Now, she bit the inside of her cheek and pretended she didn’t care when Kara let her hand drop instead of putting it on her waist again.

“Did you figure it out?” she whispered.

“What?”

“You said you needed to try something,” Lena reminded her with just a hint of bitterness. “Did you figure it out?”

Kara took a step back as though she had burned her. Half of her wanted to follow, to pursue, to touch and be touched. The other half, the one that still held some sanity, crossed her arms and hardened her expression. For the first time that night, the hero looked like she would rather be anywhere else.

“I-” Kara stopped, gulped, shook her head, looked down, placed both hands on her waist, looked up, down again, and then shrugged like she had just been defeated. Like she had just walked away from the hardest battle of her life without a victory. “Yes,” she ended up saying after Lena thought she would just fly away without looking back. “Yes, I did.”

At that, Lena cracked a smile. It was filled with bitterness and every bad feeling swirling inside her chest, and she wasn’t brave enough to look at Kara to see her reaction to the brokenness that was clear on her face. She was broken and she didn’t have the strength to hide it that night.

“Okay.”

Kara took another step back and the uncertainty, the hesitation she was feeling was clear as day in her blue eyes. Lena had forgotten. She had forgotten they were supposed to be enemies now, working on different sides and making accusations instead of sharing lunch while watching crap TV.

What an irony, Lena thought. What an irony that they had to kiss as enemies when they had been friends for much longer. When friends had meant much more.

The blonde took a step closer then, then took another two back, then closer again. She looked like she was trying to figure out something to say, what she should do, where to go from there. She had no idea where to start, but neither had Lena.

Kara was saved from saying anything when Lena yawned, bringing a hand to cover her mouth and letting her eyes fall close for a second. When she opened them again, the hero’s face had softened and she had a tiny smile that made Lena’s heart beat faster for a completely different reason.

“You should go to sleep.”

Lena almost said she wouldn’t be able to sleep – she never could so soon after a panic attack. However, she took one look at Kara’s almost gentle smile and decided to let her have that way out of the clearly uncomfortable conversation. Because it has been a year, and they were different people, and Lena didn’t even know who she was anymore, let alone anyone else around her.

“Okay. Yes, I will.”

So, Lena went on with her nightly routine while trying to ignore the elephant – or the superhero – in the room. She put the used mug inside the dishwasher, walked back to her room to grab her empty glass of water to fill it up and walked back to the kitchen. Kara hadn’t moved much, she had just leaned against the island counter and was staring at the marble with her brows furrowed and so intensely that, for a second, Lena thought she would burn the whole thing down by just staring at it. When Lena walked past her holding the full glass, she didn’t move and Lena didn’t say anything.

She wanted to.

Wanted to ask if she was going to stay there all night, staring at her counter and looking like she had no idea where she was. Wanted to ask if Kara still remembers where the extra blankets were. Wanted to ask her to leave at the same time she wanted to ask her to stay. And, in between her own confusion, Lena chose not to say a thing.

She put her glass down at the nightstand on top of the coaster, put her phone on the charger and walked to her bathroom so she could brush her teeth. While she added the toothpaste to her boring red toothbrush, Lena yawned again. All the emotions from her day were catching up on her. The deception with her project, with herself and humanity. Lex’s explosion. The panic attack. Kara randomly showing up. Kara’s lips touching hers. It felt like she had been awake for more than a day – more like a month – and all she wanted to do was crawl on her bed and rest. She knew sleep wouldn’t come easily, it never did these days, but she would try at the very least.

Lena fell on top of her bed like a dead weight. She didn’t bother changing clothes, closing the door or checking to see if Kara had left. The clothes made her feel comfortable, the bedroom could feel too small with the door closed and she didn’t want to know she was alone. So, she just took a deep breath, stared up at the ceiling and tried to think of ways she could force her body to sleep so she wouldn’t be able to think anymore.

Ironically, she fell asleep in less than a minute.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lena woke up with the sound of heavy rain. There wasn’t thunder or lightning, but the rain was falling heavily outside from what she could hear. She took a deep breath, groaning a bit when she stretched, and then turned around to reach her phone. Her room was dark, mostly because of the curtains stopping any outside light to get in, and the glow from her phone burned her eyes for the first few seconds. She blinked the discomfort away before trying to focus on what she had to do that day.

She was halfway into remembering everything that had happened the day before when she noticed her blanket wasn’t its usual black color. Lena frowned, deciding she could concentrate on something else for a minute, and her arms fell to her sides so her fingers could investigate the material. It wasn’t as fluffy or soft as her usual blanket with its thousand something threadcount that had made it ridiculously expensive. Lena reached for her phone again so she could light the area around her and almost choked on nothing when she realized what had been used to protect her from the chill air of the night.

It was red and way heavier than it looked, and it certainly didn’t belong to her house. Supergirl’s cape. Every memory came crashing down on top of her leaving her breathless and lost. She remembered leaving that cape on her bathroom floor, wet and cold, and it made no sense to her that it was used as her personal mantle for the night. The only way for the cape to be covering her now instead of wetting her floor would be for Kara to have walked in after she fell asleep and put it on top of her.

That thought, that image, made Lena feel sorry again. She was sorry for many things. She had made a mistake, she was sorry, and she needed to say that before it was too late. Before Lex could move on with his plan, before he could cause even more damage than he already had, before something worse happened. And she needed to say she could never, ever, choose to hate Kara over loving her.

She needed to say that.

Lena almost jumped from her bed as she rushed to get changed and ready to go. It was early, way too early, and it was raining outside, but she would cross town to reach Kara’s apartment and she would apologize, she would tell her she was sorry and she would ask what the hell was the whole ordeal with the kiss from last night.

She hadn’t dreamed about that, had she? Kara kissed her. Kara really kissed her. Their lips had touched in a very non-friendly way. That hadn’t been a dream, had it?

No, Lena decided while putting on her trench coat without thinking too much about what she was doing. It hadn’t been a dream. She had said she loved Kara – loves, still, if she was going with the whole ‘being honest’ thing – and Kara had kissed her. Which could mean nothing, but also could mean everything, and Lena wasn’t about to ignore it for any longer. She would have to apologize, so she could add her own question into it.

She just needed to get to Kara’s place and...

Lena stopped in her tracks, almost slipping on the floor with how sudden she came to a stop, and only avoided screaming thanks to the way she was raised by Lillian. Kara was idly sitting on a stool by the island counter in the middle of her kitchen, drinking something from Lena’s old MIT mug while she read the morning journal. Like it was something common. Like she hadn’t just scared Lena to death. Like she belonged there.

Kara didn’t look up – not that she needed, Lena reasoned, she probably knew Lena was awake since before she had noticed it herself. All the blonde did was take another sip from the mug, turn the page and pursed her lips when she read something she didn’t like. The silence that fell above them was different from the night before. It was less heavy, Lena felt just as breathless, but it only lasted about ten seconds before Kara finally spoke.

“Are you going somewhere?”

She hadn’t look up yet and Lena felt only slightly disappointed. She missed the blue eyes, the small scar and the crinkle. She missed it more than she missed a simpler life without murdering brothers returning from the dead. Instead of replying right away, Lena glanced to her own outfit, to her purple trench coat, the jeans and boots, to the cape she had folded on top of her left forearm, and then, for some reason, she blushed. She felt ridiculous, for some reason.

“I...” Lena cleared her throat, bit her lips for a quick moment and then sighed when she looked back up. Kara was just lowering the mug again, and Lena watched her throat move up and down as she swallowed. Honesty, she tried to remember. “I was going to... try to find you.”

Somehow, saying she was going to try to find Kara sounded better than saying she was going to leave her apartment at 6 am on a Saturday when the sky was falling outside to cross town to beg for forgiveness. It wasn’t a lie, at least. And, apparently, it made Kara lose some of her determination to not look at her. Lena noticed how blue eyes moved to the side just for a second before focusing on the journal again and she found herself blushing again.

“Well... You found me.”

Yes, she did. Sitting in Lena’s kitchen, reading her journal and drinking her... whatever that was. Still there. Still around. Still... existing in Lena’s life as though they hadn’t avoided each other for almost a year. Well, Lena did most of the avoiding, she was going to admit that. She was also going to admit she had missed waking up and feeling hopeful.

And hope was all she could feel when her mouth started to move on its own accord, without her approval and faster than her brain could keep up. Hope that Kara would understand, that she would be able to find it in herself to forgive her when Lena had taken almost a year to be able to show her the same treatment.

“I have made a terrible mistake.” She watched through misty eyes because of the tears as Kara slowly let go of the mug so she could close her hand into a tight fist, and, even though her heart clenched and her mind started to race, Lena couldn’t stop talking. “I was hurt. I was so hurt. And... I thought I could get rid of the hurt.”

Kara put the paper down next and she took a deep breath before finally turning her head to look at her. Lena almost stopped there, she almost gave up, turned around, walked back to her room and allowed darkness to consume her. She didn’t, though. Not when Kara was looking at her like... like she didn’t hate her. Not when Kara was still there. So, instead, Lena tried to remember how warm the sun Kara brought to her life felt, let her fingers fiddle with the cape she was holding tightly and let every word slip from her lips without trying to contain them anymore.

“I thought that I knew better, that I could make the world a better place. But I was wrong,” Lena swallowed a sob back and tried to hold back her tears, although it was already a lost battle. “That hurt took me to a dark, dark path, where I was blind to what I was really doing, to what I had become. You were right. This whole time I became a villain, and then...” A lot of things had almost happened. And then she lost everything. And then she was proved wrong. And then Lex showed his true colors again. And then, and then, and then. And then nothing. “I’m not looking for forgiveness. I’m... I know what I said and I know what I did, but I am...” Sorry, so terribly sorry. “I am really hoping that you will believe me right now. Okay?”

“Lena.” The single word, her name, wasn’t said softly or gently, but it wasn’t a curse either.

Even so, Lena didn’t look up from where she was staring at the red cape and she didn’t try to stop talking either. “Lex is working with Leviathan, and they are going to...”

“Lena.”

“...use Obsidian to do something terrible...”

“Lena.”

“...using the system I made with my project. I didn’t know I was helping them, but I did. And now...”

“Lena.”

“...Now I want to help stop them, so...”

“For Rao’s sake.”

“...please, okay? I want to help stop Lex and Leviathan.”

“Are you done?”

It was the impatience she could hear in Kara’s voice that made her look up. She had expected Kara to be mad at her, but she wasn’t expecting the blonde to sound so... done. When she looked up, though, all tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs being barely contained, she saw that Kara had a tiny smirk on her lips. The blonde had turned her body to better look at her and she had now an arm draped at the back of the stool beside her while she rested her chin on her other hand.

For a second, a terrifying second, Lena thought it was over. Then, Kara sighed, pulled the stool back and gave it a soft pat. “Sit down, will you?”

Lena didn’t know if she should ask what was going on, scream or cry even more. Instead of doing any of those things, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to order her heart to stop beating so goddamn loud. When she opened her eyes again, Kara was filling a second mug with hot water and she could no longer hold a thousand myriad of emotions swirling inside.

She allowed herself to cry, then. Allowed a year of bottled-up emotions to escape and take over. Allowed the pain to be known. Allowed it all to be felt.

She was not expecting to feel Kara’s arms warmly embracing her into a tight hug. It didn’t stop her from resting her cheek on Kara’s shoulder or hugging her back just as hard. It also didn’t stop the tears, but that was okay. She knew she could trust Kara to have her back while she wasn’t strong enough to do it herself.

“We will figure it out,” Kara whispered on top of her head where she was resting her chin and Lena didn’t doubt for a second that she meant it.

“Do you hate me?” she asked lowly, not bothering to raise her voice.

“No,” Kara’s reply came fast and certain. “I don’t think that hating you would be easier than loving you either.”

And when Kara kissed the top of her head, Lena finally felt it. The fireworks she heard about in the romantic cliches Kara made her watch. She felt the fireworks and she felt the heat of the sun. She felt the tingles and the butterflies. She felt safe, maybe for the first time in her life.

“We will figure it out,” Kara whispered again and, this time, Lena knew she was talking more than Lex, and Leviathan and Obsidian, and every other mistake in between.

“We will figure it all out.”

#supercorp #supergirl #kara x lena #lena x kara #kara danvers #lena luthor #melissa benoist #katie mcgrath #fic #ao3 #fanfic #one-shot #oneshot #romance #love #panic attack

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH45

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 45: Star Death Reality Show (XXVIII)

His right hand slammed against the emergency close button, and his body rushed out with the instant acceleration from pushing off it. As if Qi Leren had thought about the plan in his mind for a long time, he opened a hand and threw a grenade behind him without looking, sprinted out like an arrow leaving the string, and repeated this old trick when he rounded the corner, throwing down another hand grenade!

Two consecutive explosions shook the corridor like a tottering boat. Qi Leren threw himself to the ground, feeling the turbulent heat flow from the corner and blow his hair into a mess.

He coughed twice on the ground, got up, and ran away again.

Leviathan didn't catch up, and Qi Leren who had already run to the floor where the arsenal was located finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The research institute was huge, and it would take "extraordinary luck" to run into that monster again. However, he didn’t know whether Leviathan had a sensitive sense of smell... Qi Leren looked back, and the world was immersed in a bright silence. This kind of terror hidden under the light was frightening.

He Yi had been parasitized by Leviathan, who was obviously Su He’s doing. He himself had said that he’d released the dangerous creature in the underground glacier. The octopus was similar to the alien queen in Aliens, much more difficult to deal with than the ordinary octopuses. What's more, it also had human intelligence... Hey, why did you listen attentively to He Yi just now and forget to smash his head?

Qi Leren walked on, and when he came to the corridor where the arsenal was located, he saw at a glance that Dr. Lu was poking around.

"Ah! Qi Leren! You’re still alive!" Dr. Lu excitedly ran out, "How is it on your side? Have you seen Su He?"

"Have you met Du Yue?" Qi Leren asked.

Du Yue also ran out of the arsenal and took Qi Leren's arm: "Qianbei! I thought you were going to die! Thank god! You can't die!"

Hey, what did this kid say? Qi Leren lamented Du Yue, who was too agitated and incoherent, and patted him on the shoulder in comfort.

"Why is that guy so stalker-ish?" Dr. Lu muttered with a bitter expression.

Qi Leren said with a straight face: "He can hear you."

Dr. Lu's face went white with fear, staring at him, looking overwhelmed.

"I’m just scaring you, he should be gone." Qi Leren pondered that Su He seemed to have too much free time. He was acting as both a prison guard and a Devil, and he also had a lot of beautiful subordinates. No matter how much he divided his time, he couldn’t do everything. He shouldn’t be idle enough to come here to peep at how a group of wannabes did in their task.

Dr. Lu was relieved and complained, "Don't scare me all the time."

Only Du Yue, who had never seen Su He, wondered: "Who is Su He?"

Dr. Lu quickly waved his hand: "A super terrible Devil, who is cruel, cunning, and ruthless, the worst in the universe! Your qianbei was killed by him before, and his death was miserable. You could say he’s a freak!"

Du Yue was taken aback: "So bad…"

Qi Leren, who had died miserably: "........"

"Yes, your qianbei's boyfriend is grief-stricken, and he’s still wandering the world, unaware that he’s still alive."

Du Yue was dumbfounded again: "Ah, my qianbei has a boyfriend? Isn't it a beautiful woman? Qianbei said that she was particularly beautiful!"

Dr. Lu looked at Qi Leren silently. Qi Leren, who had once talked with this youth about first loves while they were watching Annie, coughed twice: "Don't talk about this now, I have something very important to say: in the glancer beneath the institute..."

Forcibly changing the subject was successful. Qi Leren locked the door of the arsenal, briefly explained the previous events, and skipped a lot of things. He only told the two people about Su He's saying that he had released Leviathan from the underground glacier, and told them about his previous fight with the monster.

"We need a temperature below minus forty degrees? Awesome, our temperature regulating clothes only guarantee that we won't lose heat in environments above minus 30 degrees. Once the temperature drops below minus 30, we won't last long, and even worse when it reaches minus 40. If you cool down that much, you may as well sign your will. To tell the truth, it's quite amazing that you can still insist on not wearing gloves..." Dr. Lu looked at Qi Leren's bare hands and then at his own hands in thick gloves and couldn't help showing envious eyes.

Qi Leren moved his fingers. Although he was cold, he wasn’t frozen. He had good resistance to cold now, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have escaped just now.

"I can't think of a way to deal with it now." Qi Leren walked around the arsenal to find the weapons he needed. "Shall we set a trap and blow it up here?"

"You can try, but if there’s an explosion in the arsenal...……S/L Data can't save you from the fire after the explosion," Dr. Lu worried.

There were indeed difficulties. There were too many explosives in the arsenal. If the explosion lasted for several seconds, even if he saved here, the resurrected Qi Leren would still be blown to pieces.

"What should we do then?" Du Yue looked sad.

Qi Leren was also depressed, and he had to worry about another question: "How much private time do you have left?"

"This is reset at 8:00 every morning...I only have half an hour left." Dr. Lu was even more sad.

"Me too." Du Yue was also worried.

Qi Leren looked at his privacy time that was less than half an hour, which was also a headache.

After the privacy time ran out, the invisible camera that followed him would ignore his instructions and shoot him from 360 degrees without any privacy. In this way, he could neither use unscientific skill cards indiscriminately nor discuss things with Dr. Lu.

If only this thing had been blown up when Mark blasted it with a rocket launcher... Unfortunately, he had used the "Prophet's Heart" at that time and he was unscathed. Sadly, even the camera was preserved.

"Where are the others?" Qi Leren asked Du Yue.

"They ran away, and then I only met Dr. Lu," Du Yue said sullenly.

"Don't worry about them, you can't stop them from dying." Dr. Lu squatted on the ground heartlessly. "Think about how to get home alive first. By now, this task is definitely not C-level. We might say there is also an A. This Leviathan looks much more difficult than the crazy lady of B-level. "

Of course, Qi Leren thought. This Leviathan was released by Su He in order to force him to level up. However, now he didn't even know what the principle of a half-field was, because his teacher Chen Baiqi hadn't expected him, a loser student, to break his shell. In her prediction, this wouldn't happen for a long time.

The plan couldn’t keep up with the changes

"Let’s think about it again... This amphioctopus is intelligent, strong defensively, fast, and aggressive... I’m afraid it’s also very strong, and ordinary weapons can't handle it. I’ll try the rocket launcher next time." Qi Leren was also very worried about this weapon that he had never used before. There was no instruction manual for weapons here, and Chen Baiqi had never taught him how to use it.

Dr. Lu and Du Yue looked at him with eyes full of doubts.

Qi Leren coughed: "Let’s think of another plan, I don't think this is foolproof."

Qi Leren’s biggest reliance was the Prophet's Heart given to him by the Prophet, but the cooldown time of this item was as long as 24 hours. To try to wait for this to finish its cooldown, Qi Leren didn't think they could spend 20 hours safely.

Then what else can I do...

Glacier.

Underground glacier.

This word jumped into Qi Leren's mind without warning, and he suddenly remembered what He Yi had said before he died: "...Even if it’s frozen in the extremely cold environment of minus 40 degrees, it will not die, but will only go to sleep. It’s like the amphioctopuses’ soldier ant, and its fighting capacity far exceeds that of the workers. Leviathan is different from the ordinary octopuses. As long as it senses the approach of living creatures, it will be forcibly thawed..."

He Yi wanted to express the danger of Leviathan, but if you thought about it carefully, wasn't this its weakness?

40 degrees below zero wouldn’t kill it, but it would go to sleep. If he could lead it back to the underground glacier and then escape quickly, so that Leviathan, that couldn't sense the biological atmosphere around it, went to sleep, then he could wait for the Prophet's Heart to cool down before going back and killing it.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt that this may be the only way.

"I have an idea," Qi Leren said into the silence. "The danger of confronting it is too great. My idea is that I’ll lure it into the underground glacier and let it return to its dormant state again."

Then Qi Leren explained his reasons, and discussed specific measures with Dr. Lu and Du Yue. The biggest problem was that Leviathan has intelligence, and it was difficult to set traps for it.

"We haven't been to the underground glacier. I don't know what the terrain is like. If it’s an underground crevasse or a huge underground lake, even you will be in danger. Why don't we try the laser corridor, surely it isn’t stronger than steel plates?" Dr. Lu also had an idea.

Du Yue nodded at the side: "Yes qianbei, it’s too dangerous for you to lure it to the underground glacier."

"He Yi knew about the laser corridor, and that I can pass through it. It would be difficult to lead it into that trap... But it reminds me that we need to find the others. After making sure that they haven’t been infected by the octopuses, I want to send them out of the research institute first, and then re-seal the basement of Annie's house. If they’re running around here, they could easily be killed by Leviathan," Qi Leren said.

The corner of Dr. Lu’s mouth twitched: "I think they aren’t already done for."

It was hard for Qi Leren to refute.

"But if you want to lure it to the underground glacier, will it be fooled?" Du Yue asked.

Qi Leren tried to maintain a strong smile: "Yes."

Only on this point, Qi Leren had full confidence. He would be able to taunt the monster’s ire towards him. As long as the laser corridor trap wasn’t in front of it, this monster would be like the most loyal boyfriend, only watching him in a crowd, abandoning all temptations and running towards him.

The two EX lucks, Dr. Lu and Du Yue, were just like wild flowers and weeds on the roadside, which were ignored by this single-minded monster.

This kind of thing had happened so many times that Qi Leren was used to it.

Time passed by, and there was only ten minutes left in Qi Leren's privacy time. The three people discussed how to explain it to the audience later, and unanimously recommended that Dr. Lu pretend to be the anchor, so that he could think of his lines quickly.

Dr. Lu wore a tearful expression as he auditioned:

Ladies and gentlemen of the audience, I have bad news. Just now, XXX went crazy, together with XXXX. Then they were all killed by Qi Leren and God. This god-like Qi Leren is neither a special soldier of the military nor an interstellar mercenary. Please believe that he is just an actor... Oh no, a lead singer of a tone-deaf band. Next, the lead singer of the strongest band in history is going to fight the boss. Please look forward to it.

"You really seem like a default actor. Come on, is this filming?" Anchor Lu said with disgust.

The heavy-hearted Qi Leren was not in the mood to make jokes and rolled his eyes.

He didn't want to waste any more time, so he could quickly took care of Leviathan and then set off for Ning Zhou in Purgatory.

Qi Leren pondered it. He could only use Save/Load now. Secretly Observing and Rain Day Laundry were cooling down alongside Prophet’s Heart. There were still Pleasing Rations left, but according to his experience, this monster was not in the range of creatures that could be bought off.

Then there were these weapons. Qi Leren picked up a rocket launcher and weighed it on his shoulder. Dr. Lu opened his mouth and said, "Wow, have you used that?"

"No, but I was shot at with one and hit straight on," Qi Leren said.

Dr. Lu looked at him with an expression of "I know you’re acting, but for the sake of friendship, I will barely cooperate with you." Only Du Yue, who was stupid, sincerely praised: "Qianbei is so powerful!"

Qi Leren glanced at the time. It was the early morning of the fifth day. Let's make it quick.

Dr. Lu considered his physical condition and suggested that Qi Leren rest for a few hours to refresh himself. Anyway, the door to the weapons room had been locked by him, so there was no need to worry about Leviathan breaking in.

In the past, Qi Leren might have thought about it, but now he was full of thoughts about Ning Zhou and refused this proposal.

Dr. Lu sighed: "Well, suit yourself. In fact, I’ve thought about waiting in this arsenal until the army arrives and rescues me. Either way, it can't get in."

Qi Leren was not so optimistic. The monster would come up with a way to break into the room sooner or later. Here, he could only wait to die, and...

Suddenly there was a slight noise above his head, as if something was crawling in a pipe. The three men looked up and looked at the metal ceiling above their heads, and fell into a strange silence.

Qi Leren suddenly thought of a problem.

The air of this large underground research institute was unexpectedly clean, and there was no staleness of air being trapped. Its exhaust facilities were obviously operational.

Qi Leren's eyes turned to the vents in the corner of the ceiling. There was a metal shutter one meter square. It seemed that the sound of something crawling had come from there!

-----

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[petri808]

We’ll Take Back Heaven a Nalu Yakuza Au

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

“Ms. Heartfilia,” the man nodded at the blonde.

“Mr. Katsunuma.” Lucy bowed in response. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course,” the older male smiled. “Your assistance has led to this celebration after all.”

It was an extravagant party being held in a large room of Katsunuma Industries corporate headquarters. The tech giant was celebrating the acquisition of their rival in the industry… thanks in part to Lucy’s untraceable services. A few bits of intelligence on the rival company coupled by the money laundering Lucy provided allowed Katsunuma to fuel the merger and overtake them. The rival had no choice but to sign the contract because if they didn’t, they would have been put out of business. Part of the deal insured the employees would be kept which had been the rivals concern, but those employees are in large part Katsunuma’s desire to take the business. Their current patents and information aside, those employees were the heart of creating more. It was a genius move.

“Mmm, I do what I can,” Lucy smiled sweetly and held up her glass. “A toast to a successful relationship.”

The man clinked his glass against hers. “For many more years to come. Enjoy the party, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“I will,” Lucy responded with another smile.

As she made her way back towards the temporary bar set up, Lucy chatted with people along the way. Some she knew, others she didn’t, but her stunning looks always turned heads everywhere she went. She wasn’t the typical Asian beauty found around those parts. Her mother was a Caucasian American and her father a Japanese businessman, so the hapa mix created a buxom blonde with almond eyes and legs for days, fluent in both English and Japanese as well as Korean. Gorgeous and intelligent. Men desired her, and women either hated her or wanted to be her. Luckily for the other women, Lucy had no interest in these stuffy, boring business types, except in taking their money because she knew all they wanted were docile arm candies and that wasn’t for her at all.

The only reason she attended these events were to show her loyalties and drum up new business considering she operated at word of mouth. But anyone too eager to do business with her immediately sent up a cautionary flag. No one survives in the dark world by being naive, the biggest lesson her cut-throat businessman of a father ever taught her. Lucy had to get to know the person, feel them out, and background check them inside and out, and even after all that she wouldn’t immediately jump into an arrangement. She made sure that any business wanting to employ her laundering services would lose big time if they ever considered turning on her. ‘Stupid men,’ she mused to herself. Greed was the easiest way to keep them in line, because the green-eyed monster was just too enticing. Another lesson her father taught her the hard way when bankrupted his company on a bad venture.

Lucy placed her empty glass onto the bar top and rested an arm on it. She smiled at the orange-haired bartender. Handsome in a playboy kind of way, even the glasses added to the charm. “A Cosmopolitan, please.”

“Coming right up cutie,” the man winked at her.

She wanted to roll her eyes but played it cool. “Loke, is it,” Lucy read off the name tag on his vest. “Unusual name. Bet you flirt with all the girls, huh?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he grinned back. “And you are the finest example here tonight.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Lucy clicked her tongue with a shrug. “Too bad lines don’t work on me.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Loke smiled back undeterred. “You’re definitely a higher caliber than the rest.”

‘Oh, Kami,’ Lucy droned internally. This guy probably had a ton of cheeky comebacks in his repertoire. Was he fuckable in her view? Toned body but not too muscular, nimble fingers… maybe fit for a one-night affair. It has been awhile since she’d had some action, so maybe he could be fun to end this celebration with. She leaned in closer letting her breasts press up against the counter. “You know this might—”

“Careful dude, this ones got claws you don’t wanna mess with.”

Lucy’s body stiffened in annoyance at the new voice so close to her ear. “Ugh, Natsu.” Not the intrusion she wanted right now!

“My apologies,” Loke immediately put her finished drink down, then his hands up as he took a step back. “You have a good evening ma’am.”

But the bartender’s body language spoke volumes as well. Loke wasn’t reacting solely to the comment, because he was staring straight at Natsu as he spoke. She could imagine that while Natsu’s tone was light, he was probably giving the bartender a menacing glare. Ugh!

Annoyed at Natsu’s interjection, Lucy grabbed her drink in a huff and started to walk away without looking behind her. “I don’t need a knight,” she huffed. But undeterred, Natsu immediately stepped in and tried to weave an arm around her waist. “Don’t get familiar,” she seethed in a hushed tone as she stepped out of his embrace. She didn’t want to cause a scene either, so she pulled him away from the crowd near the bar area to a quieter section. “What do you want Dragneel?”

“It’s improper for a woman like you to be without an escort at these events.”

Lucy placed a hand on her cocked hip in irritation. So, what if that were true, those traditions made her skin crawl. She normally would have brought one, but her go-to guy wasn’t available and since most of the guests knew who she was, Lucy figured they wouldn’t care. Why would a bunch of old guys not want a gorgeous blonde to look at? “I’m perfectly fine by myself considering I’m an invited guest. What are you doing here, this isn’t your playground.” She knew the world of corporate Tokyo and business stiffs were not the type he’d associate with. Though she had to unconsciously admit Natsu looked good in a three-piece suit.

“Be nice kitten, I was invited too.”

“Oh yeah, by who? I know Katsunuma’s not involved with the Yakuza.”

“Not senior, the son. Boy’s got a bit of a habit along with his friends.”

“Ah, let me guess, you’re the supplier.”

“You guessed right, kitten.”

“Stop calling me kitten!”

The irritation in her voice only succeeded in pulling a smirk from Natsu. He was obviously enjoying this dance, which fueled Lucy’s determination to not be swayed by it. She took a sip of her drink in annoyance. “Shouldn’t you check on your client then?”

“What for? Those rich brats partying on daddy’s dime make for disinteresting conversation. I’d much rather talk to you.”

“Lucky me,” Lucy rolled her eyes. “Well, I’d rather schmooze with my clientele. They serve a purpose, you do not.”

Natsu reached out and ran a finger along Lucy’s arm. “So harsh, kitten. We both know you’re enjoying this too.”

The ripple he triggered along her skin and increase in temperature had Lucy internally reeling, though the dead stare she wore on her face showed the opposite reaction. She wasn’t about to admit to a damn thing! “Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that Dragneel. Perhaps one day your dreams will come true.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Ugh!” Lucy pushed him away in annoyance. “You’re too much! I’m leaving.” She turned her back.

“Oi,” Natsu grabbed her arm forcefully and spun her back around. “I mean it!” he growled in a lowered voice. “You may be damn good at what you do, but you still got a thing or two to learn about a man’s world.”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Lucy spat back in a hushed tone. “These guys don’t care!”

“You think they’d say it to your face, kitten? I’d overheard more than one of your so-called prospects here gossiping about your shameful behavior and you’ve only been here fifteen minutes.”

“You’re lying.”

His eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. “I’m a lot of things, but you know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Okay, so that was true. Lucy’s known Natsu long enough to know when and if he’d ever lie to her. Still, “fine!” She seethed. “I won’t plan on staying much longer if I’m stuck with you.”

“Aww,” he defiantly tipped her chin up. “But I’ll take such good care of you.”

“Pfft,” she glared back with a twisted smile and voice dripping with sarcastic disdain. “As if. You couldn’t satisfy me then, so… what makes you think you could now?”

“Wow…” Natsu placed a hand over his heart feigning pains and groaning for effect. “Hitting me where it hurts, Luce.” He then grinned and suddenly pulled her flush against his solid body, arm wrapped around her waist, while the other gripped tightly to her hip so she couldn’t move. He leaned in, his face lowered and hovering over her ear. “If only it were true. All those nights… I lost track of how many times you called my name to the heavens.”

Between the sensually deep tone of Natsu’s voice and warm breath fanning over her skin, Lucy couldn’t hide her physiological reactions if she’d tried. Her body stiffened up, fighting a hormonal urge to give in with a sheer determination not to play his game. There was a damn good reason they’d broken up, and until he admitted to what went wrong, there was no way in hell Lucy would go back to him.

“It’s not just about sex,” she gritted out.

“I know…” Natsu let his lips brush against her ear, pulling a shiver from her body. He smirked. “It’s about love.”

Love?! How dare he! Whatever spell he was close to casting instantly dissolved on Lucy and her anger boiled to the surface. She pushed with all of her might, forcing them apart. Oh, she was furious! “And that’s something you know nothing about!” Lucy’s hand flew up faster than even she knew it was happening, landing a loud slap across Natsu’s face. “You made your choice long ago, and love never factored in,” she seethed then stomped away leaving the man alone and speechless amongst whispering bystanders.

So much for celebrating, not after Natsu’s intrusion into the affair. Lucy thanked Katsunuma again for inviting her and left the party. She couldn’t be around Natsu for another second or she just might hit him again. Ugh! He made her so angry! Love… seriously?! He had no right to pull that on her, not when it was his decision that lead to their split. In a way she should thank him for opening her eyes, because that’s what lead to creating her own organization. Lucy wanted to show that women could do just fine in the underworld with the right people and the right plans in place. And she hadn’t been the only one to feel that way. This was the modern era and all the bullshit, patriarchy rules that held them back needed to die with the twentieth century. The saddest part… Lucy didn’t even know if Natsu realized how much he’d hurt her all those years ago.

“Ma’am,” the valet snapped Lucy out of her thoughts. “Your car has arrived.”

“Thank you.” Lucy stepped closer to the curb as the vehicle pulled up alongside her. The valet opened the door for her, but just as she was about to step in, she heard her name called from behind her.

“Natsu, can’t you take a hint!” She turned and snapped while still keeping a hand on the vehicle.

“Luce, I was just playing with you upstairs. I didn’t mean to make you so angry.”

“Well, you did.”

“I don’t understand why!”

“And that’s your problem.”

“But I don’t want you to hate me, and you seem to hate me.”

Lucy sighed from the sheer emotional exhaustion. “I don’t hate you, Natsu. But until you can figure out why I left you, we don’t have anything more to talk about. Now. Good night.” She got into the vehicle, and they drove away.

Once they were out of sight, Lucy slumped down into the seat holding back the cloud of tears building in her eyes. She’d meant what she said, all of it including not hating him. Frankly, she didn’t know if she could. Anger, yes, but hatred no. They’d been young but even she recognized the connection she had to Natsu wasn’t something she could easily walk away from, and she also knew he wasn’t lying when he’d brought up love. The man’s reaction to seeing her flirt with the bartender was a reminder of his feelings for her. But it wasn’t enough. Lucy didn’t want to feel like an unequal partner in the relationship and that’s exactly what the Yakuza world Natsu chose expected.

“Home, miss?”

“Yes, please take me home.”

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #Natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #yakuza au #modern yakuza #rivalry #Natsu x lucy #we'll take back heaven #ch 3 #petri808

[coke-and-candy]

A Little Competition Never Hurt Anyone: Part One

Alya is hoping that her contest entry, that she wrote about a certain someone, will finally be the solid proof that Marinette needs to open her eyes and see that Lila is not a bad person. Unfortunately, sometimes the best intentions can be misguided and trust misplaced...

This is a little fic idea that I have had for a while now. I’ve read plenty of salt-fics and I think it’s time to let go of the bitterness that the writers have instilled in us over their poor decisions and writing of the characters we love. Let’s start the new year with a little heartbreak and a little bit of redemption. :)

Edit: Now on FF.net! (link) and AO3 (link)

Part 2! (link)

Alya Césaire was many things…

She was a blogger, an up-in-coming journalist, a proud self-proclaimed superhero enthusiast, passionate, stubborn…

But most importantly she was determined.

It was this unstoppable force of will that was one of her greatest strengths. In her mind at least—her parents and the Paris police department may have a few choice words in regards to her obsessions at times, specifically when it came to recording akuma battles for the Ladyblog…

But she couldn’t help it! Once Alya set her mind to something, she committed her heart and soul to it. She would move mountains and cross oceans to achieve the goal that she had set herself. It also something that, in her mind, made her a good friend. The blogger would never hesitate to stand up for her friends and she was most definitely a ‘ride or die’ type of gal when it came to the people she held dear to her. There wasn’t anything she wasn’t willing to do if it meant helping out the people she cared about.

It’s why she was so invested in making Adrinette happen, her bestie, Marinette, deserved to have her happily-ever-after and get the guy of her dreams. The young Chinese-French biracial fashion designer deserved to have some good karma come her way. She was always working so hard to help everyone else achieve their dreams and goals, killing it as class rep, designing for big names like Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, helping out her parents in best bakery in all of Paris, AND she was such a big help when it came to watching the twins so Alya and Nino could have an extra date or two (even if they did tend to dump them on her last minute…).  

So if anyone deserved for the universe to smile on him or her for all the good that they do it was Marinette Dupain-freaking-Cheng.

Alya would fight anyone who said otherwise.

The only other person that Alya personally knew who did as much good was Lila Rossi, the new girl who had joined their class a few months into the school year.

The Italian student had already done so much and was continuing to do so much good for the world! What with her numerous charitable works around the world and all the other awesome stuff that she had done, such as rescuing Jagged Stone’s kitten and consulting with Hollywood directors for their next big film projects, just to name a few things. Alya honestly couldn’t remember them all… Plus! Being Ladybug’s BFF!

If Alya didn’t live in Paris, which was currently being terrorized by some major jerk that used magical butterflies to use people’s emotions against them and turn them into unpredictable monsters, AND hadn’t met Marinette—someone with QUITE the impressive resume all on her own (like seriously, that girl was too humble sometimes)—Alya would have thought that Lila was a bit too good to be true…

But Paris had taught her that NOTHING is as impossible as it seems.

Plus, why would anyone lie about those kinds of things? Alya had no reason to NOT believe Lila when she suddenly had to leave town for a few days in order to attend a fundraising event halfway across the world for homeless animals.

So one would think that Marinette and Lila couldn’t be anything BUT friends, considering how amazing both girls were but that was were everything stopped making sense.

After all, they were both kind, selfless, supportive, cheerful people who were fun to be around and both of them were well accomplished, bright young girls.

But for some reason Marinette just didn't want anything to do with the other girl. The moment Lila was mentioned Marinette would start to close off or not partake in the conversation until it had moved on to a new topic. Or if they were all hanging out as a group, Marinette would put as much distance between her and Lila without just straight up leaving. She never wanted to do any group projects with Italian girl, unless they were randomly assigned, the fashion designer always bailed on girls only activities if she knew Lila was going to be there, and would leave earlier if they didn’t tell her.

Alya just couldn’t understand it. Lila was a nice, sweet, and amazing girl! She was sure that if Marinette would just set her jealousy aside for a minute she would be able to see that and then she and Lila could become great friends.

The aspiring journalist knew that Marinette was capable of it too! She had been able to do it with Kagami

The two Asian girls were now really good friends and were hanging out more as well. There was a steady stream of pictures from Marinette’s Instagram showing the two of them having fun together. Even though Kagami was her main competition when it came to winning Adrien’s heart, it didn’t get in the way of the two of them going out for tea or watching those weird Brazilian dramas they both seemed to like. Hell! The female fencer had even now made it up onto Marinette’s famous picture wall along side all of her other friends from class.

So why couldn’t Marinette do the same for Lila?

Lila didn’t even like Adrien that way! Lila had told Alya that in confidence. So what if the Italian got to model alongside the younger Agreste and spend a lot more time with him? That didn’t mean that she was going to steal him away from Marinette. Lila was NOT that kind of girl.

It was starting to really wear on Alya that two of her closest friends—who were also two of the most amazing people she had ever met—couldn’t be in the same room together without some sort of drama starting up. It usually ended with Lila in tears and Marinette leaving because she was unwilling to apologize. For all of her journalistic and reporter skills Alya could not come up with a logical reason as to why Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Lila Rossi could not be friends.

Then, one day, after another one of these drama filled episodes (they had been talking about their intended Lycee coursework plans) Alya had gotten a notification her phone for an upcoming contest and was struck with inspiration for an absolutely ingenious plan!

If Marinette was unwilling to get past her own jealousy and pettiness and see that Lila was genuinely good person then it was up to Alya to prove it to her… and she knew just the way to do it.

La Compétition Olmpe de Gouges.

One of the biggest and most prestigious journalism contests in all of France that was open to all school age and university students. With many former winners, especially for the higher levels, going on to win other highly sought after internships and being accepted into some of the best journalism programs from around the world.  

The theme for this year’s competition: future leaders.

According to the prompt, students would have to write and present a biography about a young person who showed promise as a future leader, the impact they have already had in their community, their achievements, their possible impact in the future, and why it is that they are someone for the world to keep an eye on.

And the young blogger knew exactly whom this prompt would be perfect to write about.

Lycee was just around the corner and Alya wanted to start her Lycee career right with a few professional internships or recognitions underneath her belt. She used to think that her blog would give her a big boost when it came to her extra-curricular activities but after meeting Lila… well it just made Alya realize that she needed to step up her game.

Even just placing in the top twenty would be a big boost for Alya’s writing resume!

Double bonus if this was finally what could convince Marinette to swallow her pride, apologize for not really giving Lila a chance, and FINALLY everyone could friends.

This was a win-win situation all around!

The only downside she could possibly see is if Marinette remained stubborn and refused to face the facts and evidence that Alya was about to practically layout in front of her.

But Alya was confident that she could write and a create a presentation good enough to, not only make it to the final rounds, but ALSO convince the budding designer that she had been wrong about their newest classmate this whole time.

As Alya sat down at her desk she opened up her laptop and pulled up the webpage for the contest and made sure to carefully study the rules, guidelines, and the criteria that the entrees would be judged on. Sloppy work was not something Alya planned on turning in. She pulled out a notepad and started brain storming and outlining some ideas she already had, as well as everything she knew about Lila. Sure there seemed to be some blanks and inconsistencies but Alya was just pulling what she could from her memory at the moment.

Lila had done so many awesome things and she was currently doing even more at the moment that it was hard to keep track of everything. She would have to ask her for more information later but for now Alya was content in just brain storming and outlining. Editing and proofreading may not always be something she always got a chance to do, especially with some of her more recent blog posts, but news tended to happen quickly. Blink and you would miss something. Luckily, the contest deadline was not for another six weeks so Alya had plenty of time to clean everything up and get her facts and sources straight.

It was best to get all of her ideas out at once and then go back to organize them later, just to make sure she didn't lose anything she wanted to touch upon in her entry.

The next thing she had to do was make sure that no one knew what she was up to.

She wanted this to be a surprise.

Alya had realized early on that the best way to get Marinette to agree to something was to not give her enough time to overthink things like she tended to do. Even thought it was a little harsh sometimes… but it was honestly for the girl’s own good.

Sometimes a little spontaneity was a good thing, and Lila had told her the other day about how she had volunteered with a charity that specialized in helping with mental health disorders like anxiety and depression. She had then told her all about the new study that was showing promise by putting people with anxiety into situations where there was no chance for them to think about what was ‘supposedly’ stressing them out and thus teaching them that those stressors were no big deal after all. It was still in the early stages of testing but Lila had assured her that the people she was helping were already making major progress in dealing with their anxiety.

Plus, when Marinette did finally get a chance to see her work Alya wanted to make sure that Marinette listened with an unbiased opinion and an open mind.

As Alya continued to write everything she knew about what Lila had done and was currently doing, and all the reasons as to why she was definitely someone who would be sure to make a huge positive impact on the world in the future, she could feel a sense of pride in her friends and in herself.

How lucky she was to have crossed passed with someone so selfless and so remarkable. Especially, when you factored in the fact that Lila didn’t even need to wear a mask and use magic jewelry to do good in the world. But what did she expect from someone who was Ladybug’s best friend? It made sense that someone as awe-inspiring as Ladybug was bound to be close to someone like Lila.

The more Alya brainstormed the more her excitement for this contest grew. She could already picture it…

Her giving her presentation in front of all of her friends and family, Marinette and Lila putting their past beef behind them and hanging out like the good friends Alya just knew they could be…

Alya just knew that this contest was the key to it.

She was absolutely sure of it!

And she was determined to prove it.

-----

We all know where this is going... 

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #alya cesaire #alya angst #alya learns a lesson #lila salt #heartbreak #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #alya cesaire fanfic #alya fanfic #a little competition never hurt anyone #ml salt #ml angst #ml redemption #alya redemption #alya heartbreak #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #ml alya #ml alya fanfic #alya trying to be a good friend #lila lies #ml redemption #miraculous redemption

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 46

Title: Not Broken, Just Bent

Warnings: mention of suicidal thoughts, profanity, angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty​

“I appreciate this,” Tyler says, as he and Desi work side by side in the front foyer; assisting the three littles with the zippers on their coats and the laces on their boots.

He’d called the neighbour on a whim; desperate for even the smallest bit of help. He’s never been one to just reach out to others; long drilled into him that only a pathetic and weak man needs a helping hand. But if the first nightmare in Dhaka had taught him anything, it’s that even the biggest and strongest need someone to lean on from time to time; his body and his spirit so broken that he’d required assistance with even the most basic and simplest of everyday living skills. Esme stepping up to the plate and never once complaining about the energy it depleted her of or the time it took out of her own schedule; never making him feel as if he were a burden. Accompanying -and chauffeuring, as both his physical limitations and pain medications made it impossible for him to function to that extent- him to doctors visits and physiotherapy sessions and counselling appointments with addiction specialists. Always wanting her right there with him even when the most difficult of subjects were broached or intense physical exercises caused excruciating pain. Her quiet presence and all of the patience and resilience inhabiting that tiny body both a source of strength and a tremendous comfort. Accompanied by the tender touch of her hands as they massaged his shoulders or rubbed his back or her fingertips cleared wayward strands of hair from his forehead and out of his eyes. Voice soft and soothing even during the moments where frustration and pain had him raging; a palm on the back of his neck and her nose pressed against his temple as she encouraged him to ‘just breathe’ and reminded him of how far he’d already come and how he was proving all of the doctors and the naysayers wrong.

Six years later she’d find herself back in that situation again; his babies growing and thriving inside her as she once more took on the role of his caretaker. Having to lend assistance with even the mundane things most people take for granted; helping him to the bathroom when the pain was too intense to make it even when the aid of crutches or a walker, keeping a well organized and attentively followed medication schedule, feeding him when the tremors in his hands -a side effect of the meds- made it impossible for him to even hold a fork or spoon. Giving him showers or sponge baths or washing his hair in the kitchen sink and trimming both his hair and his beard. And she’d willingly learned more intensive care as well; wound irrigation and cleaning and how to switch out the IV and medication bags when an infection in the lower back had forced him onto powerful antibiotics. She’d been overwhelmed and exhausted but had never shown it; never losing her patience or her temper with him and never reacting when his own -triggered by pain and frustration and vulnerability- kicked off.

Months of her constant presence, reassurance and steadfast care had opened his eyes to who his wife TRULY is; an incredibly strong and resilient woman that has been through hell and back -a number of times- but never lets the situation break her. Always positive and upbeat; gracing him with smiles or ruffles of his hair or kisses to his cheek and words of praise and encouragement. It had given him a new appreciation and respect for her; how easy she made it look while caring for him and keeping a home running and taking care of his children. Even now he remains in awe of her; the amount of determination and love that can exist in someone so small. And if it taught them both anything, it’s that they truly ARE a team; relying on one another in many different ways. What could have destroyed other couples only served to make them stronger. That foundation built upon a unique and powerful bond and formed through a complicated and dangerous situation never crumbling; holding them up with everything around them seemed to want to break them down. Everything became more solid; their marriage, their roles are parents, their friendship. And they’ve discovered they loved each other even more than they ever realized; a love so complete and whole and all consuming.

Now it’s his turn; shove all of his issues and his demons and monsters aside to take care of her. It’s the one thing he’s always been both good at, and consistent with; shelving all of his problems in order to focus on hers. It’s two fold. A chance to show her just how loved and appreciated and adored she actually is; a way of proving just how grateful he is for everything she’s done -for him AND their family- throughout the past twelve and a half years. And it keeps both his body and his mind busy; making her his number priority an effective way to battle back against his demons. But He realizes he can’t do it alone; the old adage of ‘it takes a village’ proving true. Seven kids in the house means a lot of noise and a lot of activity. Not the ideal setting and atmosphere for someone that is both mentally AND physically exhausted.

While Desi had been the obvious choice on who to seek out, it had taken Tyler nearly a half an hour to convince himself to make the call; feeling guilty for yet again turning to their neighbour to lend a hand. It’s primarily an ego issue; feeling like ‘less of a man’ for not only needing help, but outwardly admitting it and lowering his guard enough to ask for it. Esme would blame it on the toxic masculinity that still lingers deep inside; the ghost of his father telling him he should be dealing everything on his own and that not being able to is a sign of both cowardice and weakness. It remains a struggle at times; breaking away from that train of thought and reminding himself that everything his old man had taught him -or attempted to- had been unhealthy and toxic and nothing but complete bullshit. And Desi is like family; always stepping up when either of them have needed him. A loyal confidant and steadfast supporter, he’d easily and effortlessly blended with large broods; enjoying the time spent under their crazy and chaotic roof and giving the kids the kind of uncle they deserve. And while it normally takes Tyler months or even years to trust someone when it comes to his personal life and the safety and the well being of his family, with Desi it has come fairly easily. That laid back and enormously generous personality and the gentle and compassionate way he treats Esme and the kids had triggered Tyler’s instincts. Letting him know that the man was trustworthy and reliable and in no way a threat.

“Anytime,” Desi says, as he finishes with the laces on Takota’s boots and turns to help Brooklyn, allowing her to attempt the tying and only stepping in which she gets frustrated and gives up. “You know I’m here for you guys. Always.”

Tyler slips a purple and pink knitted beanie onto Addie’s head. “Seem to rely on you an awful lot.”

“It’s what friends do, right? Help each other out when they need it. They step up. Lend a hand. No one can go through life alone. No one.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to tell me that thirteen years ago. I was pretty sure that’s how I’d live out the rest of my life. And die.”

“Were you happy though? Living like that? All by your lonesome? Out there in the middle of nowhere?”

“I had company.”

“A dog and a chicken are NOT company,” Desi informs him. “Not by a long shot.”

“Dogs are man’s best friend, aren’t they? And it was a pretty smart chicken.”

“You can’t tell me you were happy like that. Living way out there, alone, no one to talk to. No one is happy living like that.”

“In all fairness, ninety percent of the time I was too out of it to be carrying on conversations.”

It feels like a lifetime ago; that rundown shack in the middle of the outback, surrounded by nothing but the sparse trees and dry earth and looming mountain ranges. It had seemed like the perfect place to let his wounds fester and his addictions take hold; no one trying to dictate what he could and couldn’t do, no attempts at trying to talk him into rehab or counselling, far enough out that not even Koen or Rata made it a habit of stopping by unannounced. Out there he’d been surrounded by nothing but emptiness; a perfect match for the gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once been. A punishment of sorts. Nothing but the mistakes of the past and his overwhelming grief and guilt to keep him warm at night. Out there he could let the demons run rampant; drinking himself into oblivion and abusing Oxy at an alarming rate. His last coherent thought before passing out would always be the same; that the substances he’d put in his body would be enough to ensure he didn’t wake up the next day. But he always did; usually coming to in the middle of the warped and dusty floor or sitting at the kitchen table. Surrounded by empty bottles of booze and tipped over vials of pills and crippled by a brutal hangover; the headache and nausea and the dizziness so intense he’d have to crawl to the bathroom.

When it became apparent that the mix of alcohol and painkillers weren’t enough to do the trick, he began taking the most risky and dangerous jobs possible. By that time, he was fully engrossed in his death wish; too chicken to pull the trigger himself so instead relying on someone else to do it for him. Every time he went out, he’d all but pleaded to a higher power that it would be his last. Resorting to begging and pleading with whatever -or whoever- was watching his ass to take break; take their eyes off him or shirk their duties long enough for him to catch a bullet to the head. Yet it never happened. No matter how many times he’d spun that barrel and taken the risk, he always lived to see another day. Which in turn had only made his desperation even more intense; feeding into that grief and the sorrow that threatened to drown him yet never took him right under. That day on the cliff when he’d plunged into the water below, there’d been nothing stopping him from giving up; the weight of his regret and self loathing enough to keep him below the surface and allow his air to slowly run out. He hadn’t been afraid. He’d been ready to die for a long time.

Yet something had told him to keep going. A little voice hanging onto a thread of hope; louder than those attempting to destroy him. And when he’d pulled himself out of the water, he’d found he suddenly felt lighter; as if some of the burdens and past mistakes had temporarily lifted and been replaced by the first shred of contentment he’d experienced in a hell of a long time. Less than forty minutes later, he’d be watching Esme as she climbed up onto his porch. Studying her as she crouched down and showered his dog with attention. Finding himself both curious and intrigued about the unknown, tattooed and pierced dark haired beauty that had suddenly shown up in his life.

“You gotta admit, that kind of existence IS lonely,” Desi says, as he opens the front door and motions for the three littles to step through. “All alone? Out in a place like THAT? I’ve been there, remember. I’ve seen what it’s like. It’s desolate and it’s isolating and…”

“And it’s what I wanted at the time.’

Desi cocks an eyebrow, then steps out onto the front porch. “What you wanted? Or what you thought you deserved?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth, and he stands on the threshold with a palm flat against the door, effectively holding it open. “What seemed right at the time.”

“Were you? Lonely?”

“Never gave it much thought, to be honest. But in all fairness, most of my days were spent drunk and high off my ass, so…”

“You never once wished that you had someone around? Someone to talk to? Spend time with? Get...you know...PERSONAL with.”

“If I wanted that, I could get it. Easily. There was no shortage of that, believe me.”

“You never wanted more than that? I mean, there’s more to life than THAT. What about bonding with someone? Yeah, sex is great, but what about everything else? Companionship. Friendship. Someone to come home to at the end of the day or however long you were gone for some times. Someone that’s just...THERE...you know?”

“I was a fucking mess. Way worse than you could even begin to imagine. Why would I bring someone into that? Why would I do that to someone? Ruin their life like that? They get with me, everything’s great for a while, then they discover just how messed up I am and take off. What would be the point? Bringing someone into that? That’s just wasting their time.”

“Was it about them or you? Not wanting to get involved with someone.”

Arching an eyebrow, Tyler leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seems like maybe you were using all that as excuses. To protect yourself. That maybe you were scared to get too attached. Just in case they DID decide it was too much and run off.”

A slow grin tugs at his lips. “ You’re starting to sound an awful lot like Esme. You’re getting into the psychoanalyzing business too, huh?”

“I’m just saying that maybe it ran deeper than worrying about other peoples’ feelings. Maybe you were worried about your own too.”

“I was dead inside, Des. I wasn’t feeling a damn thing.”

“Except for shame and guilt and regret. And a whole hell of a lot of self loathing.”

“You really ARE spending too much with my wife.”

“I just think it makes sense. You protecting yourself too. But not willing to admit it. At least not out loud. Wouldn’t it have been worth giving it a shot? Finding someone? Seeing if they could put up with everything?”

“I was an alcoholic mercenary with a drug addiction and a death wish. Who would put up with that?”

“Esme, for one.”

“Esme is an entirely different breed all her own. I highly doubt there’s many out there like her. That would willingly hook up with a fucking train wreck and put up with everything I’ve put her through. That I KEEP putting her through.”

“You know, you’re not as bad as you think you are. Do you have some issues? Yeah. But shit, we all do. We’re all a mess. In one way or another. You might be a little messier than most, but…”

“A little? That’s being awfully nice about it.”

“Look, she sticks around, doesn’t she? She’s still here. Twelve and half years later. You really think if things were THAT bad she wouldn’t have hauled ass a long time ago? Didn’t y’all split up for a while?”

“Six months,” Tyler confirms.

“And yet you got back together. She wanted things to work out. Not like she kicked your ass to the curb and hooked up with some other guy. You guys fixed your shit, made things better. She wouldn’t have taken you back if you were that bad. She wouldn’t have put herself or the kids through that.”

“Still a lot for one person to deal with. We’ve been through a lot shit. Way too much, actually.”

“Shit that would have broken weaker people,” Desi points out. “Both of you...separately... are strong as hell. But the two of you together? That’s a force to be reckoned with. And maybe she is a different breed of woman. Maybe it was the way she was raised that made her the way she is. Or the way she WASN’T raised. But let me tell you, she is a tough little thing. Feisty as all hell.”

“Totally a study in contradiction. You see that little body and that cute face and you think she’s all innocent and sweet and the next thing you know…”

“You’re married to her and seven kids?” Desi grins.

“I was going to say the next thing you know, she’s telling you where to go and how to get there and putting you in your place. Totally not what I expected, that’s for sure. Woman that size to be such a challenge. And so fucking bossy. If you heard half the shit that comes out of her mouth…”

“She keeps you on your toes. Challenges you. She’s definitely no push over. Which leads right back to my point. If you were as bad as you think you are, do you really think a woman like her would stick around? Hell no. She’d tell you off and pack her shit and take off. There’s no if’s, end’s, or butt’s about that. You brought that much shit and pain into her life? Things would have never gotten this far.”

“You know, you make a little TOO much sense.”

“I just tell ‘em like I see ‘em. You’re not the massive prick you think you are. Maybe a little bit of one…”

Tyler smirks.

“She showed up right when she was supposed to. That day at your place. Think of all the things in both your pasts that had to go wrong for you two to cross paths. If even just one of things went right, you probably never would have laid eyes on her. And that would have been a damn shame.”

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, considering his friend’s words. “It would have been.”

“The right woman came along at the right time. If your heart and your head didn’t think so, you wouldn’t be where you are now. You wouldn’t have the life you do. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have a life at all.”

“I’d be dead. If Esme hadn’t come along. I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“Daddy!” Addie clomps up the front walk and climbs the porch stairs; abandoning the task of helping her siblings build a messy fort of wet snow. And she wraps both arms around one of his thighs and leans her slight, tiny body into him. “Do we REALLY have to go out?”

“It’s just for a few hours.” He scoops her up into his arms and settles her on his hip. “ Go get some lunch, go see a movie, stop at the candy store. Doesn’t that sound like fun? A day out with Des? You always love your days out with Des.”

“It does sound like fun and I DO love going out with Desi, but…” she curls both arms around his neck and nestles her face against the side of his throat. “...I want to stay with you and mummy. She was gone this morning. And it scared me. That she wasn’t here to do our thing.”

“Well tomorrow you can do your thing. Sometimes OTHER things come up. Can’t help that.”

“And I only got to spend a little bit of time with her because she’s been sleeping a LONG time!”

“She’s only been sleeping an hour. Didn’t you spend some time with her? Didn't you take a bath with her? In the big tub?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I need you to cooperate, okay? Mummy needs some rest. And she can’t really get that with all you guys in the house. Right now, she needs to sleep and when she wakes up, I need to be able to take care of her. And if I’ve got all you guys to take care of, I can’t really do that, can I?”

“Is she sick?”

“She’s a little under the weather.”

“Like a cough due to cold?”

“Nothing like that. She’s just feeling a little rundown. Nothing some quiet time won’t help. So you think you can do me a solid? Go out with a Desi for a bit?”

Addie sighs heavily. “I guess…”

“We’ll have a great time,” Desi promises. “We always do. Mommy and daddy need some time alone. It happens. They’ve got some stuff to take care of.”

Addie reaches for him; allowing herself to pass from one set of arms to another. “Like making a baby?”

“No one is making any babies,” Tyler informs. “Not in this house anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because our days of making babies are long gone. The shop is closed. All done. That’s it.”

“One more wouldn’t be so bad,” Addie reasons. “Another sister.”

“One more WOULD be bad. And a shock because neither mummy or I can have more babies. Now…” laying a hand on the back of her head, he leans in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “....be good. I don’t want any bad reports when Desi gets back.”

“Why you telling me? I’m always good.”

Tyler stares pointedly at his daughter.

“Well, ALMOST always.”

“Remember what I said. No taking off. You stay with Desi. Or with TJ. Got it?”

Addie gives a thumbs up. “Got it!”

“Have fun. And don’t worry about mummy. She’s fine, I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

“You better,” the five year old warns. “‘Cause that’s my mummy and if anything happens to her…”

“Your mummy is in good hands,” Tyler promises. “Daddy knows what he's doing. I’m not some rookie, you know.”

“You be nice to mummy,” Addie orders. “No arguing and no making her cry and no making fun of how tiny she is.”

“You’re kidding me, right? That’s my go to. Making fun of her height.”

“Speaking as a short person, it’s NOT funny. At all.”

“I wonder how funny it will be when I DO pick you and your mum up and put you in my pockets.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Addie’s eyes narrow as she glares at him.

“Don’t give me that look,” He pecks her pouted lips. “You and your mumma both know everything I say, I say because I love you guys. Can I help it that you’re both so tiny and cute?”

“Can we help it that you’re so big and have humongous feet and ears?” Addie counters.

“Ouch,” Desi chuckles. “Savage.”

“She gets that from her mumma. Little, but so full of rage.” He digs his fingers into his daughter’s side, tickling her until the pout turns into a smile and she begins to giggle. “Do I need to remind you that you got my ears? And my feet? You all do.”

“Poor us,” Addie quips, and then squeals and giggles even louder when he brushes his beard against her cheeks.

“I love you,” he says, and presses a kiss to the freckled bridge of his daughter's nose. “Be good, okay? I’m counting on you here.”

“I got this!” She flashes two thumbs up over Desi’s shoulder as he carries her down the stairs. “See you later, alligator!”

“In a while crocodile,” Tyler responds.

“Blow a kiss, goldfish!”

“Bye-bye butterfly.”

“Toodle-loo kangaroo!”

Tyler shoots her a wink and then steps out onto the front porch. Hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie as he watches Desi herd the noisy and excited and noisy bunch out the front gate and then down the slush covered sidewalk. Waiting until they disappear around the corner before heading back into the house.

*****

The shower feels damn good. Hot enough to sting and to cause a new layer of perspiration to form on his skin; gathering at his temples and along his hairline and above his upper lip. The latter he swipes away with the tip of his tongue and then places his palms flat against the tile; chin tucked into his chest and his eyes closed as the water beats down on his weary body. Physically speaking, he feels great; very little pain or tightness across the small of his back, a dull yet manageable ache in his repaired shoulder, the swelling of his right knee not as not as prominent as it usually is. The latter surprises him. He’d pushed himself extremely hard during his run that morning, greatly exceeding anything he’d ever put himself on the treadmill and far beyond the limits the specialists had put on him after his second surgery. And while he knows he shouldn’t ‘test the waters’ and there’s a legitimate risk of ligament tears and dislocations, he’s never been one to play by the rules. Refusing to let anyone confine him to what’s conventionally acceptable; always wanting to prove not only the naysayers wrong, but his own mind and body. An injury he can deal with; another operation and the recovery afterwards a lot easier to bear then the damage to the ego. His physicality has always been of major importance; strength, size, speed, stamina. And he’s had a hell of a time getting back to even seventy percent of where he’d been five years ago. When Nathan had managed to get the jump on him and achieved what no other foe had ever managed: breaking his body and mind.

He refuses to dwell on it. Nothing he can do will ever erase or lessen what happened; his body forever damaged and his entire lifestyle permanently altered. Physical injuries, mental health issues, the constant toeing of the line between addiction and sobriety. And he knows things could be a lot worse; dying that day on the bridge in Dhaka and never getting his second chance. He’d been given an incredible opportunity; an absolution for the mistakes of the past and a whole new life and a bright and content future. But it hasn’t been without its own share of pain and sacrifice and suffering; every blessing coming at an exceptional cost. Ones he’d happily paid and would do so again; willingly putting his own body and sanity on the line if it means keeping his family safe and sound.

A half an hour passes; hot water tank nearly drained when he finally steps out of the shower. Body still damp when he heads into the bedroom; a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and another being used to vigorously dry his hair. Slivers of light manage to trickle through the gap in the room darkening curtains, and he uses it to his advantage; quietly navigating the spacious master suite. She’s been asleep for more than an hour now; on his side of the bed with the heavy comforter pulled up to her chin and her cheek nestled into his pillow. Normally she would have argued with him; pointing out the list of things that -in her always busy mind- needed to be done before her sister’s arrival. But her ‘meltdown’ earlier had left her emotionally exhausted and she hadn’t kicked up even the slightest bit of fuss when he suggested she take time for herself; a long soak in the tub, her favourite ‘comfort’ clothes, a well deserved nap.

It’s been twelve and a half years of sacrifice and compromise on her part; giving up her old life in favour of a new one with him, adjusting to life in a new country only to have it torn apart and be forced back home, reluctantly agreeing to his return to the job and the worry and the stress that came with it. Five pregnancies that resulted in seven amazing and beautiful children; her physical and mental health paying a steep price each time, yet never denying him the desire for a big family. And the times she’s seen him near death. Horrendous injuries inflicted upon him; those long days and nights by his side in various hospitals and eventually the arduous and painful roads to recovery. Yet she’s done it without complaint; throwing herself into caring for him and their family and consistently putting her own well being on the back burner.

Lowering himself cautiously onto the end of the bed, he once more scrubs at his hair and then tosses the towel in the direction of the laundry hamper; sighing when it misses its mark and falls heavily to the floor. While mentally weary, his body feels great; relieved to be relatively pain free and filled with an uncharacteristic optimism. The silver lining within a very dark and immense cloud. A welcome boost of confidence he hasn’t experienced in years; brave enough to consider that maybe...just maybe...the worst is now behind him. And as he studies his reflection in the mirror atop the dresser, for once he’s not finding all the faults. No anger or disgust when his fingers lightly travel over the myriad of scars that inhabit his face, no thoughts of how battered and worn down he appears. Instead he notices that his eyes seem brighter; not as haunted and empty as they’ve been since his return from Cambodia. His face has filled out; the slight weight gain making the lines that accompany aging -and a hard life lived on the edge- not seem as prominent. His chest and arms are bigger; the slightest of flexes stretching the tattoos that decorate the insides of both biceps and shoulders. The positivity is surprising; years spent living in a state of self loathing and speaking self deprecating words long ago taking their toll and reducing him to a man that didn’t give a shit about his personal appearance. As long as he maintained his strength and his quickness and his skills, that had been all that mattered; not giving a second thought to his choice of attire or the thickness of his beard or the unruliness of his hair.

He’s still not what would be considered high maintenance; the opposite of a Desi who spends more time getting ready than the average female and has closets full of insanely expensive high end clothing. Still the most comfortable in bare feet and board shorts; jeans and a simple t-shirt considered ‘dressing up’ in his world. It’s an effortless existence; relaxed and content and low key. And it’s one the entire family -aside from a very ‘girly’ Addie- has adopted. Happy and secure; tucked away at the end of that dead end street and surrounded by nature and the smells and the sounds of the ocean. Their own slice of paradise; hard work, resilience, and a hell of a lot of money turning what had once been a modest residence into their dream home. It will be their ‘happily after after’; the place where they’ll raise their children, spoil their grandkids, and grow old and grey together. And for once, he’s confident that will happen. That they’ll get those moments Esme often speaks wistfully about. When their home is empty and it’s just the two of them; quiet breakfasts on the back deck and dinners down by the water. When there’s more grey in their hair and wrinkles on their faces, yet they still walk along the beach hand in hand or with their arms wrapped around each other; indulging in their bantering and their teasing and stopping to steal kisses in the surf.

And still giving her piggy back rides back to the house.

He feels the mattress shift slightly, and he watches her reflection through the mirror as she adjusts her position in bed. Rolling over onto her back and stretching languorously; a long, content sigh escaping her lips and the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. When she props herself onto her elbows and looks at him, her hair is disheveled and her eyes are slightly narrowed; a pout of confusion and disorientation capturing her lips.

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost one.”

The pout transforms into a frown. “In the afternoon?”

“No. Morning.”

“Smart ass,” she grumbles, and then flops down onto her back. A foot kicks off the heavy comforter in favour of coming in contact with his back; toes slowly brushing along the top edge of the towel. “What are you doing?”

“I was in the shower. Didn’t get a chance to do it when I got home from my run. With everything that happened and you leaving and having to take care of the kids....” his voice trails off. It’s the last thing he wants to revisit. His panic attack in the kitchen, the way his oldest son had sensed the urgency and the stress and stepped up to the plate to care for his little sister, the worry that his wife either wouldn’t return or would walk through the door and tell him that it was over. That he was just too much for her to bear; a heavy and troublesome burden weighing her down.

“Why’s it so quiet?” she asks, and he’s thankful for the change in conversation. “What happened? Did they get a little too feral? Get on your last nerve so you tranquilized all of them?”

“I sold them all. On the black market.”

“I hope you got a good price for them,” she chides, and trails the tip of her big toe along his spine. “I put a lot of work into those kids. Not to mention what my body went through. I think that’s worth a good penny, don’t you? Doesn’t it deserve compensation? My body going to absolute shit?”

“Your body is amazing. It was incredible when we met, and it’s even more incredible now.”

“You really are the most biased husband on earth. My ass is bigger. My hips are wider.”

“You’ve had babies. MY babies.”

“Yeah, I have,” she smiles, and once more props herself up on her elbows. “Only guy in the universe I’d ever give that many spawn too.”

He grins at her through the mirror. “I’m honoured.”

“You should be,” she playfully retorts. “You’re naked under that towel, aren’t you.”

“Well considering I just got out of the shower and I don’t wear board shorts or underwear when I’m in there…”

“Honey, as incredible as your body is and I could lie here all day admiring it, I’m going to need you to put some clothes on. It’s far too tempting to engage in X rated activity when you’re naked. Or next to naked.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. X rated activities. With me.”

“Normally it’s not. But I think I’m PMSing.” That dramatic, adorable pout again. “ I’ve got wicked cramps and I’m feeling bloated as fuck and you know my hesitancy on having sex when all of that is going on. I know it doesn’t faze you and as much as orgasms DO help, it’s just not my jam.”

“Say no more.” Sighing, he gets to his feet; grateful that the normally bone deep pain that resides in his right knee has settled into nothing more than a dull, manageable ache. And he grabs a pair of discarded jeans slung over the back of the chair by the balcony door; releasing the towel from around his waist and tossing it in the direction of the laundry hamper.

“Now that’s just evil,” Esme declares. “You are a bad, bad, BAD man.”

He smirks at her through the mirror. “Why’s that?”

“Don’t play innocent with me. You know exactly what you’re doing. Just dropping the towel like that. That’s so, so, SO mean.”

“Gotta give you something to stare at, yeah?”

“I prefer to call it admiring. And I have done a lot of admiring over the last twelve and half years. You never disappoint, husband.”

“I aim to please.”

“And do you ever hit your mark. Each and every time.”

Grinning, he tugs the jeans up over his hips and ass and tends to the button and zipper; pushing a hand through his damp hair as he approaches the side of the bed. “Move.”

“I like this spot. It’s YOUR spot. It’s got all your grooves in it. It’s comfortable.”

“Yeah, but it’s MY spot. And you know how anal I am about my spot. So haul ass. Please.”

“Grump face,” she mutters, but wriggles her way backward across the bed; rolling onto her hip as he joins her; sliding under the comforter and laying on his side facing her.

“Come here…” Reaching out, he curls an arm around her petite frame and pulls her into him. Hand resting in the middle of her back as his other arm slips under her shoulder; thigh wedging between her legs.. “...I’ll make you feel better, baby. In a non X rated way.”

“You’re so selfless.” She presses her body against his; a hand pushing through his hair and her head tucking under his chin. Eyes closing and a long, content sigh escaping her as she breathes in his familiar scent. Clean and crisp; notes of sandalwood and citrus. “So generous. Where ARE the kids?”

“Desi took them out. Lunch and a movie. Candy bar afterwards.”

“He just offered or....?”

“I called him. Told him you were having a rough day. That I needed some time and some space and some quiet. To take care of my girl.”

A smile plays on her lips as she pulls back to look at him. “Your girl, huh?”

“That’s what you are, aren’t ya? Or would I rather I call you my old lady?”

“I would definitely NOT rather that. I like it; being called your girl. It’s cute. I like the sound of it.”

He presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. Palm sliding up her back, across her shoulder and then gently cupping the side of her face ; thumb repeatedly brushing against the top of her cheek.

She likes these moments with him. Quiet and content; bodies pressed together in a pure and innocent form of intimacy. The way his gaze never wavers ; as if he's intently studying every inch of her features and committing them to memory. Love and adoration written as plain as day upon his face; the softness of his expression, the gentle touch of a callused palm and fingertips, the tender smile that plays on his lips. A beautiful man with a not so beautiful past. A childhood filled with torment and abuse and anguish and tremendous loss, followed by years of substance abuse and a life lived on the edge; hounded by immense grief and guilt and regret and anxious for death to claim him. It’s no surprise that he has the issues he does; no one can go through a lifetime of trauma and come out of it unscathed. But it’s a shock he isn’t worse than he is. Still filled with so much strength; resilient and brave and never backing down from even the biggest of challenges. Loving and compassionate and sensitive. A striking juxtaposition considering his choice of career. A hardened and highly skilled mercenary that kills as a means to an end, not because he enjoys it.

“So you actually CALLED Desi?” she inquires. “For help? That’s a little...out of character.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Your sister won’t be here until later and I wasn’t waiting that long. So I got a hold of him and asked him to do me a favour. If he could take the kids so I could concentrate on you. That’s kind of hard to do when there’s seven plus one under the same roof.”

“That’s HUGE for you. You didn’t just acknowledge and admit you needed help, you actually ACTED on it.”

“What’s so huge about that? I’ve asked for help before.”

“You’ve asked ME for help before. Never someone else. That’s not you, Tyler. You’d rather wear yourself thin or completely burn yourself out than rely on other people.”

“It’s one of my issues,” he admits. “For many reasons. But you know how I always say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you?”

Esme nods.

“That includes swallowing my pride and asking for help.”

“You doing THAT? THAT’S love right there. And probably some lust, too.”

“There’s a little bit of that in there too,” he teases, and then places a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. Their eyes closing when the tip of his nose comes to rest against her forehead; hand slipping from her cheek and finding the back of her neck, fingers gently and deftly massaging the tense muscles.

For several minutes neither of them speak; basking in the silence and the warmth that radiates from one another's bodies; his slow, even breaths ruffling her hair, hers tickling his bare neck. These moments are rare; the chaos of raising seven children and their respective work schedules and responsibilities. Both are looking forward to her being home more. The opportunity to actually be alone; walks on the beach or time in the water, hikes in the woods or strolls through town. And the road trips. Needing nothing more than gas in the tank and money in their pockets.

*****

“Feeling any better?” Tyler asks, and slips his hand up into her hair; fingertips gently kneading the scalp.

“A little. Have a headache though. Not sure if it’s PMS or my moods or my meltdown earlier. But it’s a bitch. A mean, old bitch.”

He pulls away. Hand moving to the top of her head and fingers pressing on her well known problem areas; along the tops of both brows, the inside corners of her eyes, the bridge of her nose. Attempting to alleviate at least some of the pain and pressure. “Good?” he asks, when she reaches up to push her fingers through his; drawing their joined hands down to her lips and pressing a kiss to the side of his wrist.

She nods, a smile curving her lips. “Good. You and your magic fingers. They certainly know their stuff. In many ways.”

“They have a talent all of their own.”

“They certainly do. MANY talents, actually. Are YOU feeling better?”

“Not bad. My body feels pretty good. Thought maybe I’d be in agony after my run, but…”

“You pushed yourself, didn’t you. HARD. Harder than you’re supposed to.”

“Come on now. Would I actually do something like that? Not listen to the doctor’s orders?”

“You most certainly would. And you definitely have. Be careful, Tyler. Don’t push the limits too much, okay? I realize you know your own body, but you don’t always listen to it. I don’t want you hurting yourself. Screwing something up and needing surgery. AGAIN.”

“I won’t go too hard,” he promises, and pecks her lips. “But right now? I’m taking care of YOU. Not the other way around. You’ve spent a lot of time looking after me. Worrying about me. Probably too much.”

“It’s not like it’s a job or something like that. You’re my husband. I love you. That’s why I do it.”

“And I love you. Which is why I need to step up and take care of you. Don’t be so stubborn, Me. Let me look after you. We’re a team, yeah? We’re supposed to be in this together? Let me pick up some of the slack.”

“It’s a bad habit of mine. Doing everything myself. I mean, in high school I was the one that got saddled with all the work during group projects. My classmates would fuck around and I’d be stuck having to do it all by my lonesome.”

“Well you don’t have to do this by your lonesome. It’s a two way street, right? You and me against the world?”

Nodding, she presses a kiss to his chin, then his lips. “You’re a good husband. I think I’ll keep you.”

“Good. Because I think I’ll stick around. I kinda like it here.”

Smiling, she lays a hand on the side of his face. Her fingers press through his beard; nails lightly scraping along his jaw. “Do you think we could talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing? You already said no naked time, so…”

“I mean a serious talk. Piggybacking off what happened this morning. More specifically, what happened with ME this morning. And WHY it happened.”

“I thought we already talked about it. When you got back. Didn’t realize there was anything more to say. You’re going through some shit. Depression. Probably PTSD. You got a lot of stress. And probably most of that can be blamed on me.”

“I’m not blaming anything on you. I never have. I never will. My brain was screwed up way before you ever came along.”

“I’m sure I made it worse. I’ve put you through a lot of crap. Twelve and a half years of it.”

“We are not doing this. YOU are not doing this. That’s all water under the bridge, Tyler. Things we went through and dealt with. It’s behind us. Can we leave it there? Can YOU? Because it’s not doing you any good; holding onto so much guilt and regret. I don’t want you doing that. That’s the last thing I want, actually.”

“It’s kind of hard NOT to do it. To think back on it all and not see how badly i’ve fucked up.”

“It was all beyond your control. Things went bad. That’s all there is to really say about it. Things went to shit and you reacted badly to them and you made some pretty crappy judgement calls. But we got past all of that. I don’t hold grudges against you. I don’t hate you. Or blame you for anything. It’s time you stop blaming yourself, okay?”

“You know me. I’m willing to try anything once. Except for maybe eating ass. That’s a little too far out of my comfort zone.”

“Well lucky for you, it’s WAY out of mine. But can we? Have a serious talk? Without it turning into a fight? I don’t want to fight with you. We’ve come a long way since those days; everything turning into a big blow out.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, either. But if it’s something THAT serious…”

“I mean, it’s serious but not THAT serious. It’s not life or death or anything. It’s just...I don’t know…” her fingers nervously fidget with the chain around his neck. “...it’s a pretty big deal.”

“Is it about us? Are we having problems I’m not aware of? Is there someone else?”

“No! Oh my god, no. Nothing like that. Other than dealing with our own mental stuff, we are fine. We are MORE than fine. And there isn’t anyone else. There never has been. And there never will be. You’re it for me. For the rest of my life. There’s no one else I want. I could EVER want.”

Smiling, he presses a kiss to her lips.

“It’s to do with me. What’s going on in my head. What HAS been going on in there. And I need you to promise that you won’t freak out. That you won’t hear the worst of it and shut down and lose your temper and…”

He frowns. “Esme…”

“Tyler, I love you. More than you could ever possibly know. And right now, I need you to promise me that you won’t lose it. That you’ll just listen and let everything sink in. Not just hear a bit and react. Can you do that? Promise me?”

He nods. “I won’t lose my shit. Promise. What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you sick? Is there something wrong and you’ve been holding out on me?”

“I’m not sick,” she assures him. “Not physically anyway. It’s all to do with my brain. I’ve struggled for years. Long before I ever met you. And I’ve had some down moments; since we’ve been together. Especially after each of our babies. When postpartum was a real bitch to me. So it’s not like you don’t know what I deal with. In my head.”

“I’ve known for years. You told me pretty much right from the start. A couple days into Dhaka. About having depression. Being diagnosed after your dad died. And I’m pretty sure you’ve got PTSD too. After everything that went on in Bangladesh, ESPECIALLY on that bridge? You can’t say it would be a surprise. If you were diagnosed with it.”

“The furthest thing from a surprise. Now you promise? Not to freak out?”

“I already did. Can we get to it already? Because you stall any longer and my anxiety is going to go off the charts.”

Sighing, she curls a finger around his necklace and gently yanks him into a kiss. Lips lingering on his before finally pulling away. “I lied to you. About a year ago,”

“About…?”

“Do you remember when you were in Brazil? For a couple weeks? The whole drug cartel thing?”

He nods. “What about it?”

“Remember how when you came back, I mentioned a girls weekend. In Cairns. With Riley and Shaena. And how I was worried you’d be pissed because I wanted to go on it? Because you’d been gone for two weeks and me leaving meant we’d only have a couple days together?”

“Yeah, and I was fine with it. You needed a break. I didn’t have a problem with you going. What…?”

“There was never a girls weekend,” Esme admits, and his frown intensifies; deep furrows inhabiting his brow. “We made it up. So you wouldn’t know what was really going on.”

“Babe...what…?”

“I was in the hospital. For three days. And not just any hospital. A psychiatric one.”

“A psychiatric hospital? Why? What…?”

“When you were gone, I had a really bad time. I mean, I always do when you leave. I don’t sleep, I worry constantly, I stress over everything and even little stuff gets on my nerves and drags me down. But this was worse. WAY worse. And even though I knew you were okay and that you were coming home, I still had all that dread, you know? All that worry. Constantly wondering if maybe I’d never see you again. That maybe the last time you walked out the door really WAS the last time.”

“That was an easy job. I wasn’t even out in the field. I was strictly behind the scenes. I never even left the hotel. Not until I had to go get everyone out. I told you I’d stay behind and I did.”

“I know. But I still freaked out. I was still worried. I always worry about you, you know that. And one night it was really bad. I felt like I was losing it. I hadn’t heard from you that day and you didn’t return any of my voicemails or texts and…”

“We had problems with coms. I told you that. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you. There were legit issues.”

“And I tried telling myself that. That there were issues. But it didn’t help. And I lost it. Badly. I’m pretty sure it was actually a mental breakdown. And I called Riley because I was freaking out and I couldn’t get control of myself. I thought I was going crazy. And I told her that I felt like I was going to hurt myself.”

He blinks at her confession. “What?”

“I don’t think I actually would have done it. I think I was just feeling desperate at that moment. I don’t think…”

“You wanted to kill yourself? You wanted to die?”

“I guess. I don’t know. I was looking for a way out. An escape. And my brain wasn’t exactly in a good place and that’s where it went. Like I said, I don’t think I would have actually done anything. But I called Riley and she came over and stayed with me and the kids. Just in case.”

“What if she hadn’t been around? What if she couldn’t have come over? What if she still lived in Colorado? Would you have done it? Hurt yourself?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t THINK so? Esme…”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking right. I was in a really bad way, Tyler. REALLY bad. And I needed help. So I called her.”

“Why didn’t you call ME?”

“What would you have been able to do? You were in Brazil.”

“I would have come home. Right away. I would have dropped everything and had someone else be in charge. Do you really think I wouldn’t have? Come home? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were so far away,” she attempts to reason. “And I needed help right away.”

“I would have talked you down. I would have gotten you through it. Why wouldn’t you get a hold of me? I’m your husband.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was just thinking in the moment. And getting ahold of you in Brazil wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind. It wasn’t personal. You should know that. That you’re the one person that’s always been able to help me. But you were thousands of miles away and you were busy and I didn’t want to put something else on you. Burden you.”

“Burden me? You’re my wife. You could never burden me. What the fuck, Esme? Why didn’t you at least tell me I got home? Why lie to me? Why make up this whole fucking story about a girls trip? Why…?”

“I didn’t want to put that on you. Especially when you had to stay with the kids. They needed you to be focused and all about them. And you wouldn’t have been able to do that if I told you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You didn’t want me to worry? You’re my WIFE.”

“I was trying to protect you. I’m always trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Tyler argues. “I’m not a fucking child, Esme. I’m a grown ass man. I don’t need you coddling me and babying me and protecting me. I would have stepped up and took care of you. That should have been on me. Not your sister. Not Shaena. Not anyone else. Me.”

“I needed you to take care of the kids. You’d been gone for two weeks and they missed you and I didn’t want them to be without BOTH parents. It’s not personal. I didn’t make the decisions I did to hurt you. I made them to help you. To help our family.”

“How much help would it have been if I’d come home and you were dead on the floor? How much help would it have been if one of our kids had found you? Do you know how bad that would have fucked them up? Losing their mother like that? Do you know how bad it would have fucked ME up?”

“I wasn’t thinking of those things. I wasn’t thinking about anything. That’s the problem. All I wanted was an escape. That’s it.”

“An escape from what? Your shitty life with your shitty husband?”

“No!” She clasps his face in her hands. “I love my life. And my husband. You know what depression is like. It doesn’t care where you live or what you have or how many people love you. It’s all in your head. It’s a fucking monster you can’t escape from. You know EXACTLY what it’s like. I never meant…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...I never meant to hurt you. I would NEVER hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. And I know you say you don’t need me to. And maybe you don’t. But I do it because I love you. Because I want to make things easier on you. That’s all. It’s not to hurt you, Tyler.”

“You can’t try and convince me I’m not broken when you treat me like I am.”

She frantically grabs at the chain around his neck with one hand, his shoulder with the other. “That’s not what I was doing. You AREN’T broken. I don’t treat you like you are.”

“You are when you do shit like that. When you lie to me. Especially about something like this.”

“I’ve never lied to you. About anything. I’ve always been honest. About my childhood, about what Mark put me through, about…”

“What about the guy?”

“What guy? What…?”

“The one you went out with. When we were separated. Took you years to tell me about him.”

She frowns. “There was nothing to tell you. He was just some single dad I met at daycare pick up. That’s it. It was nothing important. Just some guy.”

“That you went out with. While we were still married.”

“Have you been just waiting to throw that in my face? Have you been holding onto that all this time? Just looking for the opportunity to hold that over my head? Why would you…?”

“I was faithful to you. Whether we were going to work shit or not. I wasn’t looking for someone else. I didn’t want another woman. And I could have had one. I could have had tons of them. It wasn’t for lack of opportunity, believe me.”

“Then why didn’t you do it? If you had so many chances. Why didn’t you take any of them?”

“Because I wanted my wife. I didn’t want anyone else. You, Just you.”

“And I wanted you! But you were a fucking mess and I was hurt because you weren’t fighting for me. For your family. So yeah, I went out on a date. Because someone showed interest in me and made me feel special and beautiful and wanted. Because I was hurt and I wanted you to hurt just as much as I was. I was so pissed at you. For not getting your shit together and coming home and fighting for us. So I went out on a date. And I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the attention."

“Did you fuck him?”

“No. I told you what happened. I told you he tried and I turned him down. I told him that I couldn’t do it because I was still in love with my husband. That I was still hoping we could work things out. That’s the truth. And that’s how I got that black eye. Because he didn’t handle the rejection so well. That’s the truth. All of it. I never slept with him. I’ve ever been with anyone but you. For the last twelve and a half years. Just you.”

He nods slowly, letting her words sink in.

“Tyler…” her nails dig into the back of his neck. “...don’t do this...don’t shut me out. Please don’t do that. I don’t want you to do that.”

“What do you want me to say? What…?”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to lie to you. I…” tears flow freely down her face. “...I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Come here,” he gently orders, and pushing a hand through her hair, settles it on her back and pulls her into him. “It’s okay, Me. Everything’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to lie to you. Not about the guy and not about the girls weekend. I was just trying to protect you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you weren’t.” Pressing a kiss to her temple, he rolls over onto his back; both arms wrapping around her and pulling her with him. “And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have brought that shit up. I haven’t been holding onto it. Or waiting to use it again. I reacted. Badly. And when I do, nothing is off limits. I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to say that shit.”

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and curls her arms around his neck. “I know how you get. When you hear things you don’t like. But for the record? This is what I meant when I made you promise not to lose it.”

“I am so fucking sorry. I’m an asshole. A huge asshole.”

“No. You’re not. You just have no chill sometimes. I’m used to it. Or fairly used to it, anyway.”

“I never should have said what I did. About the guy you went out with. You had every right to. Go on a date. I wasn’t exactly stepping up. I just lost it. Hearing about you wanting to hurt herself and how you spent time in psychiatric hospital. Kinda kicked me in the nuts, ya know?”

“I was going to tell you,” she says, chin resting on his chest as she looks up at him. “When I got home. But I was feeling so much better and you and the kids were so happy to see me. I didn’t want to ruin that. And then we got on with life and there never seemed to be a good time. So I kept it to myself. It wasn’t to intentionally hurt you., I’d NEVER do that.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“And I don’t mean to treat you like you’re broken. Because you’re not. A little bent, maybe…”

He manages a laugh. “I’ve been put through the ringer a few times. Got a little too many miles on me. Quite the collection of dents and scars going on.”

“They’re beautiful. Every single one of them.” Wriggling further up the bed, she pushes a hand through his hair; tightly gripping the longer locks as she pecks the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry, Tyler. That I lied to you. I had good intentions. I really did.”

“You always do.” He curls an arm around her neck and kisses her. Long and soft and sweet; tasting the salty tears that linger across her top lip. “It’s okay, Me. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” He tangles his fingers in her hair, gently pushing her head back down onto his chest. “ Has it happened again? Feeling the way you did? Have you wanted to hurt yourself? Or worse?”

“No. I haven’t felt that way since. I’ve been depressed, but not like that.”

“And you’d tell me? If you did feel that way?”

She nods.

Sighing heavily, he places a forearm over his eyes. Lying in silence and feeling her body tremble against his; knuckles repeatedly ghosting along her spine as he attempts to get a grasp on the situation. Her mental health issues have never been a secret; she’s been on medication for years and has occasionally needed it to be tweaked. But to hear that she’d been THAT low? Considering hurting herself? Or even attempting something more permanent? It’s devastating. Feeding right into his worst fear. The thought of losing her to an event totally beyond his control. A wedge of emotion settles in his throat and tears prick his eyes; the realization of how close he’d come to losing. But he fights it off. Needing to stay strong for her. Always willing, ready, and able to put his own problems aside. Her rock and her protector.

“Tyler?” Her voice is impossibly tiny. Apprehensive. Scared.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you. So much. You’ll never know how much.”

Smiling, he slides his palm to the back of her neck and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you too.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake x OFC #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Tyler and Esme series

[kinktae]

flesh and blood || 2 (M)

You are living in a society that is just now picking up the scraps that the Great Outbreak left behind after the government killed off the majority of the zombies. Still, some remain, and fear still lies within society’s walls. So imagine your surprise when the very thing you’ve been taught to fear ends up saving your life, showing you that maybe two beating hearts aren't always required when it comes to love.

pairing: zombie!jungkook x reader

word count: 5.9k

genre: post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, smut

warnings: lots of TV watching, mentions of conspiracy, joon doing some illegal shit, mentions of murder, & smooching

A/N: inspired by warm bodies and the fact that I'm a legitimate crackhead. 

01 | 02 | 03

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PART TWO

Zombies were nothing like hamsters, you had come to find out over the past few days.

It seemed like an odd comparison, but it was the only other pet experience you could call upon. Your hamster, affectionately named Anarchy, was an impulse decision on your part, a running theme in your life it would come to seem. Nevertheless, you and Joon took it upon yourself to ensure she lived up her whopping two years of life, setting her up the biggest tank you could find and spoiling her with chew toys and salt licks. Anarchy was the perfect pet; she didn’t whine or grunt, didn’t eat all the chocolate in your fridge and she certainly didn’t follow you into the bathroom every time you needed to pee.

Your zombie friend, however, could not have the same said about him.

Namjoon and you spent many a night perched on the couch discussing very important zombie matters – Are steak saturdays a bad idea with a zombie in the house? Does he have a name? Should we be charging him rent? – while the zombie in question sat directly in front of the TV, completely consumed by the black and white film Namjoon had put on for him.

“Why can’t I just put some of my foundation on him?” You tried to reason.

“They’ll know he’s wearing makeup. Your foundation is cakey as hell.”

“What about— wait, what?” You blinked, surprised.

Namjoon shifted uncomfortably, flashing you an apologetic look, “Oh, sorry. I thought you knew.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at your TV to find that the zombie boy had not moved an inch since the last time you looked.

“Hey, brains.” You called out, feeling playful. “How would you feel about getting a spray tan?”

“Y/N, this is serious. I really don’t think he should ever leave the house.” Namjoon sighed, pulling your attention back onto him.

“You want to imprison him? He’s a person! He has to leave the house or he’ll go stir crazy. I know I would…”

Your best friend shook his head, and although you still felt like you had a case to argue, you knew that the discussion was over.

“I know, but if we’re seen outside with a zombie… It’s just what’s best for everyone, Y/N. Better safe than sorry.” Namjoon shrugged.

Leaning back into the couch, you crossed your arms over your chest. Of course, he was right, but that didn't make it any less unfair. Even if the zombie man had yet to utter a complaint since arriving at your place, you couldn't help but feel responsible for his well being. He saved your life after all.

A noise coming from the sitting zombie caused you and Namjoon to jump; it was a sharp, high pitched sound, unlike you had ever heard come from him before.

Shockingly, you looked over at the zombie to find the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as the scene playing out on the television reflected in his dark eyes.

"Did he just..." Namjoon gaped.

"Laugh?" You finished the shared thought, a warm feeling falling over you. "Yeah. Sounds like he just did."

Namjoon hummed, tapping a finger against his thigh contemplatively. Suddenly, he stood up, heading out of the room. Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure of what he was doing.

"Where are you going?" You inquired.

"To start a Project Z chart. My groundbreaking research begins today!" His voice informed you from somewhere in the apartment.

You grinned, chuckling slightly. Bringing your knees into your chest, you wrapped your arms around them. Project Z, huh? Alright. Count you in.

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A thump against your foot pulled your eyes from your computer screen. You were sat in the living room, legs tucked under the coffee table as your ass took comfort on a pillow you placed on the floor.

"Hi, there!" You cooed, poking your head under the table as you greeted your hamster Anarchy. She had been roaming around the room in her giant clear hamster ball, one of her favorite ways to keep you company while you did your work.

The grey colored rodent continued forward, wheel rubbing against the length of your legs as she ran. Snatching the ball before she could get any further, you brought her up to eye level, her little nose sniffing at you.

"That's enough ball time for today, don't you think?" You asked her rhetorically.

Suddenly, your phone began to sound, the familiar tune of Monster by Lady Gaga ringing out for the kitchen.

"Brains!" You called out towards your zombie roommate, who was sat in his usual place in front of the TV. He wasn't actually responsive to your nickname for him, but thankfully, the volume of your tone caught his attention enough to turn and face you.

You placed Anarchy back onto the floor.

"Watch Anarchy." You pointed at your pet before pointing at him. "Don't let her roll out of the room."

The undead boy showed no sign of understanding, his eyes merely locking onto the contained mammal. He hadn't shown much interest in your hamster up until now, the TV taking up all his attention of course.

Thank god he was already a zombie because the amount of time he spent in front of that damn screen would have surely rotted his brain by now.

Assuming that his attention would not shift away from the rodent now that he was intrigued by it, you made your way out towards the kitchen, where you had left your phone to charge. You cursed as you watched the way the screen of your phone changed, the phone call ending before you could reach the device.

Grabbing your phone, you swiped it open, only to see that it had been Namjoon to call you.

Your eyes fixed on your phone, you sent him a message as you walked back into the living room.

[12:56 PM]

To: Joonie – sorry I missed ur call... did u need something?

You let out a small yelp as your toe hit itself on something– you knew exactly what it was as the sound of plastic rolling across the room rang out.

Your stomach sank heavily as you located the ball, not because you had just sent your hamster whirling across the room, but because the ball... was empty.

Your eyes widened as they found the ball's lid, lying ominously on the floor.

"Anarchy? How did–" You breathed before you realized you had left the zombie alone with your beloved pet.

A chill ran over you as you eyed him; he was once again watching the TV, cross-legged as if nothing was wrong.

"Oh my god..." You gaped. "Did– Did you eat Anarchy?!"

He didn't react to your voice and before you reason with yourself, you gripped his shoulder angrily, forcing him to look at you.

To your surprise, you were met with not just wide zombie eyes, but with the sight of Anarchy cupped carefully between his palms, very much alive. You let out a breath of relief, sinking down to sit beside him.

So your zombie friend didn't have a taste for rodents. Good to know.

"Sorry." You apologized reflexively before a chime, followed by another, called your attention.

The zombie watched carefully as you began to fiddle with that strange device he sometimes saw you occupied with.

You read the texts carefully.

[12:57 PM]

From: Joonie – just stopped by the market and picked up some human brains for dinner… JK lol

[12:57 PM]

From: Joonie – was gonna ask if you wanted something but im otw home. c u soon!

You were just about to put the phone away when something stopped you in your tracks.

Tap.

A finger poked at your screen, and your eyebrows raised to find the zombie leaning in close, attention fixed on the set of texts sent in by your best friend.

You gawked at him for a moment, unsure if he was capable of reading and understanding the words in front of him.

After a few silent moments passed by; you cleared your throat, deciding to read the texts to him.

“Just stopped by the market and picked up some human brains for dinner… JK haha.” You narrated.

To your surprise, the zombie boy let out a grunt, poking at your screen again. Confused, you followed his finger to see what exactly he was pointing at.

Tap.

His finger hovered over the acronym Namjoon had sent. Was he asking what it meant? You could imagine zombies weren't well versed in text slang.

“The letters J and K stand for just kidding.”

It felt silly talking to him like this. You had no clue if he even understood written language – or verbal for that matter.

If the boy understood what you said, though, he didn’t show any sign of it. Once again, he tapped his finger against the message, accidentally causing the word to become highlighted.

“Yes, yes, I see it.” You said, growing slightly frustrated at the clear lack of mutual understanding between you.

Tap.

“Okay, enough of that…” You sighed.

Ten minutes passed by uneventfully; Brains was watching his favorite show again, having had handed your hamster back so you could put her back and continue your work.

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention, accompanied by the rustling sounds of the grocery bags Namjoon was carrying.

"Welcome home!" You greeted, not peeling your eyes from your screen.

"Can I get some help, please?" Namjoon's disembodied voice called out, stealing a sigh from you.

Begrudgingly, you closed your laptop, trudging over to the kitchen to help the scientist.

Offering him a nod in greeting, you began sifting through the bags he had heaved over onto the kitchen counter, on a hunt for any frozen foods that needed to be stored immediately.

"Did you buy–"

"Chocolate?" Namjoon finished for you, tucking away a tub of ice cream into your freezer. "Yeah, duh. You only reminded me eight times before I left."

You flashed him a sheepish smile, pulling a plastic container of strawberries from a grocery bag.

"Did you get any work done?" Your roommate wondered conversationally. You shrugged.

"I guess. This article Seokjin has me working on for the paper is dull as hell."

"And how is our zombie friend? Did you guys bond with me gone?"

“Obviously. I mean, we're practically best friends now." You teased, rolling up a now empty bag. Namjoon gasped suddenly, a hand over his heart in pretend offense.

"You're not trying to replace me are you?" He sniffed fakely.

"Well, he does get along with Anarchy. He took her out of her ball and held her and everything." You shrugged, a small smirk pulling at your mouth.

The fridge door shut sharply, Namjoon's eyes narrowing in distaste, "You're telling me that little rat likes an undead stranger better than me? I can’t even put a hand in her enclosure without her trying to gnaw off a phalange!"

"Stop calling her a rat, she's a hamster!" A laugh escaped you, ever amused by the way your pet despised him.

"Interesting that he didn't eat her though." Namjoon continued, the two of you were nearly done putting the purchased food away. "I'll make sure to note that in his chart."

"I was surprised, too." You nodded.

"Learn anything else interesting that I should write down?"

"Not really. Just that he really likes the acronym JK. I read your text out to him and he wouldn’t stop tapping at my phone when I showed him it.” You explained, slipping a hand into the back pocket of your jeans casually.

The groceries were all stored meaning your moral duty as a roommate to help put them away was officially completed.

“Really? Interesting..." Namjoon hummed.

"Is it?" You mused.

"This could mean he understands transcribed text."

You thought back to the way the zombie had shown little to no reaction to Namjoon's words before shaking your head in disagreement.

"I doubt it."

"You said you read it out to him right? Maybe it’s zombie slang for something. Or at least sounds like it.” He pressed.

You pondered that idea for a moment before responding, “You think zombies have their own language? I haven’t heard a sound out of him other than the occasional grunt or groan.”

“Why not? If animals are able to communicate within their own species, why not zombies? Nonverbal communication occurs in the animal kingdom all the time.” Namjoon explained, once again proving himself to be the smarter of you two.

Suddenly, without warning, he began to make his way over to the living room; you cocked your head in confusion before following him.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, worried he was going to harass the unsuspecting zombie again. Often you'd have to step in and remind Namjoon that the zombie wasn't a test rat that he could just poke and prod at whenever he wanted.

Said zombie was, of course, exactly where you had left him, sat upright on the couch looking stiff and unnatural as ever as he watched his TV with a blank expression.

“I’m gonna test out a theory.” Namjoon declared without warning, and to your disbelief, he let out a loud grumble.

“J...K…” He groaned out, voice clearly trying to imitate that of a zombie’s. Oh, god. Your best friend was an idiot. He really was.

Just as you were about to hit Namjoon on the shoulder for being such a dumbass, the seated zombie unexpectedly turned towards the two of you, clearly responding to the word.

He stared at you both with wide, unblinking eyes before letting out a huff of his own.

“Holy shit.” You breathed silently.

“Well. I think I just spoke zombie." Namjoon whispered. Neither of you dared to take your eyes off the walker as a small ounce of fear began to set in.

What exactly had Namjoon said to him? Was it possible to offend a zombie? Should you both start running now?

And as if you weren't taken back enough, you completely lost the ability to breathe altogether when a corner of the zombie boy’s mouth twitched upward, flashing you both a crooked, yet unmistakable smile.

“Is he... smiling?” You turned to face your best friend only to see that he was smiling back at the zombie.

“Remind me to put zombie whisperer on my résumé.” Namjoon grinned smugly.

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"No, this is mine. That one is yours." You huffed, grabbing back the stolen candy bar.

"Mine." JK repeated, reaching over for the very item you had just taken back from him. You let out a groan, throwing your hands up in defeat.

"I take it he's not grasping the concept of ownership?" Namjoon glanced up from whatever hospital file he was looking over.

"That little brat knows what I mean, he's just greedy and stubborn." You accused, glaring at the zombie who had already peeled open the wrapper of your chocolate.

In the past two weeks since you first brought home the stubborn zombie, there had been much development on his part. For starters, Namjoon and you had deducted that his name must be JK as it was the only word he responded to every time without fail.

Along with that discovery came the shocking utterance of words on his part.

Y/N. Joon. No. Mine. Sorry. Candy.

Each one was just as jarring as the one before, even if simple. Namjoon, although disappointed your name was JK's first words and not his, was thrilled. Language reacquisition was certainly something reports on zombies failed to notice.

"Hmm... wonder where he picked that up from..." Namjoon muttered sourly. At his words, you frowned.

"Excuse me, are you suggesting something mister?" You raised an eyebrow at him challenging.

Your best friend let out a laugh, "You say that as if you aren't the most hard-headed, unyielding human being to ever walk this earth."

"Bold words for someone who can't even go to sleep unless a nightlight is present." You scoffed.

"Hey!" Namjoon slammed the paperwork down onto the coffee table, causing you to roll your eyes. The zombie frowned, eyes flickering between the two humans. "That was a low blow! I could have brought up the fact that you're in your twenties and still can't drive but some of us have class, you know."

"Driving is scary!" You defended, turning your nose up at him. "Besides, why do I need to drive when I have a chauffeur?"

"You ass, I am not your chauffeur–"

"Joon." JK's gruff voice rang out suddenly, silencing the room. His eyes glared at the tall human openly.

Namjoon looked taken aback at the zombie's sudden call, his eyes flickering to you for reassurance, but you hadn't a clue what was happening either.

"...Yes?" He finally replied, voice hesitant.

The zombie immediately dropped the chocolate, hand coming up to point at you instead. You quirked a brow, noting the way he had yet to take his cold eyes off Namjoon.

"Sorry." JK demanded.

You let out a laugh.

"Wha– Are you kidding?" The scientist marveled. "Hell no, I'm not apologizing to her."

"Joon. Sorry." The zombie said once more, a clipped tone behind the word.

You were a giggling mess, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you watched your roommates interact with amusement.

"Why just me? Y/N should apologize too!" Namjoon whined.

JK held the man's stare for just a beat when swiftly, he grabbed the file that he had placed down onto the table.

"Woah– Hey, naughty zombie! Give that back."

"No." The zombified man responded dryly, only causing you to laugh harder.

JK glanced your way for a moment, taking note of how pleasant the sound before once again turning to Namjoon.

"Yeah, Joon! Say sorry." He could hear you tease beside him.

"Yeah." JK repeated after you, his head nodding in a way that was convincingly human-like.

"Son of a bitch. He's like the undead male version of you." Namjoon griped, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ultimately, he cried uncle.

"Fine. Y/N, I am so sorry, please forgive me." His eyes flew back to JK, extending his hand out pleadingly. "Now can I please have that file back?"

JK frowned, wanting to say something but lacking the necessary words to express himself, so instead, he turned towards Y/N.

You were already looking at him, elbow perched on the table as you rested your chin on your open palm. You were smiling in the way that always made him feel funny; your eyes shiny and amiable.

You gave him a nod, which was all the reassurance he needed before he finally handed the file back over to the man he had stolen it from. Namjoon snatched it back eagerly, pulling it into his chest in case either of his roommates tried to pull that same stunt again.

"Monsters. Both of you." He said in a flat tone. You chuckled, heeding his words no mind as you spotted the abandoned chocolate lying on the table that the zombie had set down.

JK watched with a frown as you took the candy bar from him, his noise of protest dying in his throat the moment he saw the way your lips wrapped around the sweet treat.

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“Y/N.”

“Hm?” You replied, still concentrating on the apple you were slicing up for the zombie. As willing as he was to keep eating candy all day, you didn't want Jungkook's insides to decay any more than they already had.

Jungkook.

The sudden discovery of the zombie's full name was an unexpected one. It happened last week on a night much like others. You had just finished drying up his sheets and pillow cover, the fabrics warm and heavy in your arms. You had noticed your zombie friend had been particularly pensive that day, not chatting much which certainly was unusual for him nowadays. So as you walked into the living room, you weren't surprised to find him sitting at the couch staring out at the metal bars that ran along the length of the window as he appeared lost in his thoughts.

"Here you go. Nice and warm." You had announced, dropping the sheets onto the zombie's lap. He was yanked from his thoughts by the sudden weight.

"Nighty-night, sleep tight, don't let the zombies bite." You chimed breezily. The childhood rhyme might not apply in this particular case but you found the humor in it enough to say it to him every night.

The zombie gave you a slow nod, causing your brows to furrow slightly. It really wasn't like him to be this quiet. Lately, it had almost seemed as if he couldn't shut up; he was a human parrot, regurgitating and repeating every word that caught his interest, even occasionally forming sentences.

Namjoon deduced that this must be something of a second term speech emergence– or as you understood it, just a fancy science term meaning JK was rapidly learning how to speak.

A soft click rang out as you flicked the light switch on the wall off. The moon was bright and full tonight, it's light seeping through the window as it painted a wash of blue on the zombie and the couch.

"Y/N."

His voice was small; if it weren't for the quiet of the night you doubt you would've caught the call at all.

"Yes? Is everything okay?"

There was an undeniable melancholy in the air. It seeped through his tone and engulfed the room.

"I remember."

The words stunned you and after a silent beat, you were walking over to him, sitting down on the coffee table across from him.

"What? What do you remember? Tell me." You urged softly.

You watched as he swallowed shakily, eyebrows furrowing as his jaw opened and closed, fighting for a response. He could see it all, flashing from one scene to another in the back of his mind. There was a family that loved him. A pretty girl that made his chest tighten like it did when he was near you. A car accident. A morgue. Screaming. A group of six boys taking him in. Men in black uniforms pinning them to the ground as he hid and watched.

It was suffocating.

"JK?" You called out worriedly, noticing the way emotion clouded his eyes and how his breathing was becoming ragged.

"Jungkook." A name came out raspily as if saying it out loud was painful.

"What?" You blinked.

"Jungkook." He mourned, tears falling from his eyes. "I remember."

Your heart sank as his face twisted up, and before you could stop yourself, you stood and pulled him into you, his face finding the crook of your neck as he began to weep. You let out a breath, your hand petting the back of his head in hopes to comfort him, his hair still damp from his shower earlier.

Needless to say, when Namjoon came back from his night shift to see the two of you curled up asleep on the couch together, he had many questions.

“Y/N, come here.” Jungkook's voice insisted, causing you to huff.

'No please, huh? Typical man.' You thought to yourself bitterly as you placed the knife in the sink, scooping up the plate of freshly cut apples as you made your way over to him.

"Here. Apples. Eat." You ordered, placing the plate down in front of him. Jungkook had graduated from sitting on the floor to the couch while watching TV, truly an astonishing character development on his part.

"What are they doing?" Jungkook ignored you, completely captivated by whatever he was watching.

Pressing your lips together, you watched the scene unfold on the screened box.

“They’re kissing.” You said, glancing back at the fascinated man that sat beside you, unsure of how to approach this subject.

"What?" Jungkook cocked his head, clearly not familiar with the term.

“What they’re doing? Yeah, it’s called a kiss.”

The romantic lead and his female counterpart were locking lips under an umbrella as rain poured around them, uplifting music humming in the background. Just the kind of grand romantic movie ending all pre-apocalypse movies seemed to have.

“Kiss.” Jungkook repeated, testing out the word.

“Yeah, you do it with someone you care about. Someone you’re close with.”

“Do Y/N and Namjoon... kiss?” He muttered.

Your eyes grew, quick to shake your head vehemently, “Huh? Oh no! God no. We’re just friends.”

“Friends?” The zombie pressed.

“Yeah. We’re close and care about each other but… definitely no kissing.” You shuttered. You had known Namjoon for too damn long to even entertain that idea.

“No kissing. Just friends.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded, seemingly content with the information he was just given. "But why do they kiss?"

You shifted in your seat. Was this what parents felt like when it was time to give their kids 'the talk?'

“Well… It feels nice. And I guess it's a way of showing someone you love them.” You shrugged shyly.

“Love."

Jungkook seemed to be merely repeating you rather than pressing for an explanation as he turned his attention back to the movie.

“Confusing.” Jungkook concluded.

“Yeah, well, you’re not wrong.” You mused through a laugh, bringing his attention back on to you and the way he couldn't help but smile every time you heard you do so.

And there it was again. That strange, tight feeling in his chest that he had yet to find a word for... up until now.

"Y/N."

Turning towards him, your world froze the second his lips found yours. They were soft and warm much like the hands that cupped either side of your face.

Pulling away from the kiss, Jungkook opened his eyes, heat finding both your faces as you gawked at him with wide eyes.

"Sorry." He apologized suddenly.

"Y-You just..." Your words failed you, there was no possible way to wrap your head around what just happened.

You brought a hand to your lips, fingers running along your bottom one before covering your mouth altogether.

"Gosh. You have to ask before you kiss someone, brains." You turned away from him, tone of voice serious as if to scold him.

Jungkook nodded quietly, unsure of how to reply, especially when he could see the way you smiled behind your hand.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were trying to sleep, you really were. But unfortunately for you, when your, admittedly good looking, zombie roommate kisses you, it tends to consume your thoughts. You felt like you were overthinking everything despite the fact that you knew nothing.

Was it a misunderstanding on your part? Did you explain kissing in a way that confused him and he was just trying to express his gratitude towards you for taking care of him for all this time?

Or did he... love you?

God, you sounded ridiculous, you know you did. How could a zombie even understand an idea as complex as love? Why was this even affecting you so much? Why did it matter?

Your thoughts were bordering on dangerous territory right now, and in desperate need of a distraction, you rang up Namjoon.

"Joon!" You greeted the second he picked up.

"Uh, hey?" Your best friend replied warily. “Is everything okay?"

"What? Yeah! Of course, I mean, why wouldn't everything be okay?" You replied, heart racing as you swung your legs against the side of your bed.

"Well, for starters, you're calling me at three in the morning? Why aren't you sleeping?"

Namjoon often went to do work late at night at the hospital for his internship; usually, it meant you got to see little of him in the mornings as he was passed out cold but this time it actually worked to your advantage.

"Oh, I'm just... thinking, I guess. How are things at the hospital?" You diverted quickly.

"It's kind of a slow night," Namjoon revealed and you could almost picture the way he'd shrug, "but I'm guessing you didn't call me to ask me that. What's going on, weirdo?"

You let out a sigh. He was your best friend, after all. Of course, he'd see right through you.

"It's just... Jungkook. He's just so different from everything we thought we knew about zombies."

"I know, right? He's nearly completely fluent now, don't you think?"

"No, it's more than that." You furrowed your brows, laying back on your bed. "He's just– I mean he's got... emotions and preferences and memories. I think he might even... Ugh, nevermind I’m just overthinking.”

"Did... something happen that I should know about?" Namjoon mused. You bit down on your lip, unsure of how to answer.

"We know he's different from the others but–" You chose to ignore before he cut you off.

"But what?"

Staring at your ceiling, you sorted through your thoughts– thoughts that you had been toying with for a while now.

"What if there are more like him? And if so, where are they? Have they been killed? What role does the DEAD Team play in this?"

"Hm. I don't know... but let me see if I can find out." Namjoon said, causing you to sit up in surprise.

Of course! Research was Namjoon's whole thing. If anyone could find out more about this, it was him.

"Okay, yeah! Let me know if you find anything." You replied.

"And Y/N," Namjoon began suddenly, his tone shift slightly. "If you’re right... Wait. Nevermind, let's, uh, just not talk about this over the phone anymore, okay?"

"Oh... okay." You blinked in confusion at your best friend's nebulous words.

"Good night, weirdo."

"Night." You muttered back, hitting the end call button as you tried to suppress the uneasy feeling in your gut.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The feeling of someone yanking the covers off your body jolted you awake. Squinting, you tried to orient yourself, the lights in your room blinding your tired eyes.

"What the fuck?" You grumbled, eyes focusing on the hovering body that soon revealed itself to be your boisterous best friend.

"Morning, sunshine!" Namjoon chimed.

"Ugh, what time is it?"

"Around six in the morning!" He answered before taking a seat on your bed, dropping a pile of what looked to be meaningless junk next to your body.

“Can I just say, finding anything outbreak-related that isn’t Anti-Zombie propaganda is fucking difficult… Luckily for you, I happen to be a genius with a lot of friends in the computer programming field.” Your best friend explained cockily.

“Oh shit." You rubbed at your eyes before taking in the pile. "Find anything good?”

“Oh, yeah. Turns out you’re not the only one who thinks there is more to the zombie story. I found an archive of a forum of people like us sharing stories and conspiracies about the Great Outbreak and the government’s involvement in it.”

“Really? How have I never stumbled upon that before?” You pondered.

“That’s just it. It was an archive, meaning the forum doesn’t exist anymore, it was shut down. The whole site was shut down actually, seemingly out of nowhere. Unfortunately for whoever took it down, once someone takes a step onto the internet, there are always footprints left behind. Nothing is ever really gone forever.”

You let his words sink in, still on sleepy brain mode.

“So... do you think the government took the site down?”

Namjoon flashed you a look as if to say well, obviously.

“A lot of the thread was purely he said she said stuff, but I did find some compelling pieces of evidence. Most notably… this.”

Namjoon reached into the pile and pulled out an old copy of a newspaper, placing it on top for you to read. Printed on the first page was a picture of a family you didn’t know, consisting of a mother, a father, and two daughters. On top of the picture in all bold was the title, “FAMILY KILLED BY ZOMBIE DAUGHTER.”

You vaguely remembered hearing about this story on the news when you were younger. But even then, you hardly gave sensationalized news much thought.

“Anyway, the youngest daughter, Shelby, died some time ago from some form of cancer. There are records of her parents taking her in to get that sketchy ass drug if you remember–”

“Immortuos, of course.” You nodded.

“Yeah. Obviously, she ended up dying and coming back to life. However, instead of letting the DEAD Team take her into custody, her family somehow managed to sneak her out of the mortuary her body was being stored in.”

Your eyes grew in size, “Are you serious? Wait, how do you know this?”

Namjoon rummaged through the pile, pulling out a piece of paper before holding it out to you. You stared down at it.

“Is this… a credit card statement?”

“Shelby’s father’s credit card statement.”

You shifted back away from the paper, sitting up in your bed. You were looking at a dead man’s credit card history. Weird.

“How the literal hell did you even get your hands on this?”

“I have my ways.” Namjoon smirked. You nodded, impressed at just how much your best friend had gotten away with.

“Anyway, look at this. Five days before the entire family’s reported death, the father bought four plane tickets.”

Four plane tickets?

“Well, that doesn't make sense. If it was just the oldest sister and her parents, they would only need three.” Your brows furrowed.

“Right. But with Shelby alive again…” Namjoon hinted.

“Four tickets.” You marveled, finally understanding. “They were trying to run away.”

You shook your head, “But wait this newspaper says Shelby killed her family, right? So what really happened? Why didn’t the family make their flight?”

“So there’s speculation that the government heavily monitored the immediate family of the recently undead after their resurrection. People on the forum theorized that the government caught wind of the family’s plan and killed them off before they got the chance to flee. Clearly, they thought the family knew something they shouldn’t have otherwise they would have just taken the girl. I mean think about it, do you really think a six-year-old could overpower her sister and two adult parents? ‘Cause I don’t.”

You sat in silence for a second. It made sense. The zombie girl was already back with the family so it would be the perfect guise to fall back on: ‘Naive family takes back zombie child only to be eaten alive!’ That would certainly deter other families from trying to do the same.

A thought crossed you suddenly.

“Hey, this happened in our town. You have access to the hospital's morgue records… do you think there is any way–”

“One step ahead of you.” Namjoon interrupted, pulling out an aged manila envelope from the pile, the word confidential clearly stamped onto it.

You held Namjoon’s eyes in disbelief, wondering how the fuck you had befriended a master level criminal, before taking the envelope into your hands and prying it open. Inside were four sheets of paper. Copies of autopsy reports, with each respective family member’s name on it. Your stomach dropped as you let your eyes roll over them, realizing each sheet of paper had been signed off the same way:

Cause of Death: GUNSHOT TO HEAD

Manner of Death: MANDATED HOMICIDE

Police Notified: NO

"Mandated homicide– whoever executed their deaths was ordered to do so. And if the police weren't notified then..."

"Yeah." Namjoon confirmed grimly. A wave of nausea rolled over you suddenly.

“The family knew what we know. That not all zombies are dangerous.” You breathed, swallowing dryly. “And now... they're dead.”

Your apprehensive eyes met Namjoon's, the air thick with the feeling that you two had just stumbled upon something much bigger than yourselves– something you would not come out of unscathed.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #taehyung smut #bts preferences #bts scenarios #bts fanfics #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk smut #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #park jimin #jung hoseok #bts taehyung #bts reactions

[moralesmarkers]

i am steter trash so i wrote an au where stiles is a spark that lives in the forest because he killed his dad in an accident back when he was a kid and couldn't control his magic and his moms family was just made up of mages and he is the first one to actually be a born spark with loads of power so she raises him and teaches him everything she knows

and in this au sparks are being hunted and put down like animals so claudia builds a house in the forest with stiles where he can live and study magic on the land of their family and after she dies stiles moves there.

(and yes hes a lot older in this because it makes me antsy to write about eighteen year old stiles and adult peter. sorry. I'm a pussy okay.)

and stiles meets his gang! and scott is a dryad, lydia is a mermaid, jackson and danny are mermen (and jackson and danny are together by the way), i planned allison as a regular human that meets scott on a walk in the woods and falls in love with him later in the story because the hale fire storyline is still happening, and kira is an ancient kitsune who also lives in the forest and is good friends with stiles, and erica, boyd, isaac, liam, theo etc are not there yet but thats cause stiles is pretty alone.

he just minds his own business and takes care of the dryads and meets fairies (who live in the forest) and makes a deal with them that they'll stop screwing around with humans and stay in the forest and he'll protect them and take care of them because sparks are powerful and the fairies appreciate that instead of being afraid of him.

and stiles just does his thing for a couple of years until the fairies go a little bit too far and peter hale, who is stupidly a little too far in the forest on his patrol, gets caught in a storm they cause and gets lost in the woods, and he finds stiles' house and stiles takes him in and gives him dry clothes and then guards him back so peter won't get himself fairy'ed

and then a week passes and stiles is kind of anxious peters family will tell him to fuck off the woods (even though it's stiles' heritage to take care of the forest, the hales just live there) and then: the actual plot

a little apple dryad tells him scott found a dying fairy. this fairy apparently told scott in her dying breath something wolfish killed her, and stiles wrongly thinks peter and his family did that, and he goes to find scott to ask him about it, but scott is just gone. stiles can't find him and gets worried and checks his wards, and when he gets to the wards around the hale property, he meets laura. he asks her if she's seen scott, and she saw him going back into the forest, but stiles still can't find him.

laura leaves and stiles finds the ward to their territory broken, and it stinks like druid, so he figures it was this deaton guy because werewolves aren't sneaky like that.

stiles visits lydia (because he still can't find scott and lydia knows how to calm him down) and finds out jackson and danny saw a monster while making out under the surface of their lake and from then stiles knows that the hales have got nothing to do with this because what lydia describes Is Not a werewolf.

so he gets pissy, and then ultimately is enraged when he finds a dead stag this monster killed, and because he's pissy he visits the hales to tell talia he's rightfully going to kill their emissary for being a bitch and breaking his wards and letting some monster walk his territory.

and talia is all "what the fuck how do i not know you." and stiles is all internally "i see my darling peter kept his promises" and then he's internally like "wait fuck i'm not really in love with this guy am i" and then he's like "oh. OH."

and talia convinces him not to kill deaton because shes awesome and stiles grumpily agrees because... not agreeing would be a dick move and it would mean. War. Basically.

so the hales offer their help looking for scott and stiles finds this monster thing on his search and its a wendigo yay, and scott has been following this thing around for days now because he's a dumbass and wanted to help, and they bro out

and the hales and stiles kill this thing, which means magic action. and stiles is awesome. and everyone knows that now.

what follows is just steter get-to-know-eachother and the hale pack are the biggest wingmen (wingpeople) ever and there's fluff and magic and a lot of flowers because stiles is a person that can't for the life of him say the words "i love you" and gets incredibly anxious when people say "i love you" so he mostly displays his feelings for peter in hanakotoba, the traditional japanese flower language that kira taught him, and peter eventually catches onto that and they get together in a load of angst and fluff and they have sex. because of course they have loads of sex. bold of you to think peter can keep his hands off stiles for longer than a day and likewise.

and there is like a load of stiles/hale pack friendship dynamics because i love them all and then suddenly yeehaw. hale fire.

So paige has already happened in this timeline before stiles and peter met, and derek still meets kate and she does her scum thing and uses him. a bunch of hunters show up to the hale house, shoot them with wolfsbane bullets and gather them so they can burn together.

stiles wakes up in a rush because something bad is happening to his wolves but then his eyes fall closed again and he can't get out of bed for a solid time because someone freaking poisoned him and he's fevering and weak and everything is dizzy, but he forces himself up because something. bad. is happening. to his. wolves. he stumbles into his kitchen and almost dies right there and then, because the poison is wolfsbane and he feels like he got tons of it shoved down his throat by the person that poisoned him. his life starts flashing in front of his eyes and he fights back at it and vomits the wolfsbane out, believes it out of his system and when it's gone, he's just left raging.

because i hate kate, stiles loses control when he meets her at the hale house and kills her. he gets the pack and gets them out of the house, breaks the mountain ash circle and they leave. the hales can't go back to their house because the place is swarming with hunters

and peter and stiles figure out it was deaton who told kate everything she needed to know to set this trap and the mountain ash circle also stinks like druid, so deaton gets revealed as being the bad guy all along. stiles figures that he also poisoned him so he wouldnt interrupt, and that deaton wanted thalias alpha spark. the wendigo was a test and deaton put it there on purpose to see how strong stiles was and if he would care about the hales, because deaton knew stiles would feel the hunters killing them and ever since peter and stiles got together the druid knew he would have to murder him too to get the hales dead.

and stiles is just half feral in his wrath and the aftermath of the wolfsbane poisoning, and derek is sobbing and muttering about this being all his fault, and peter has two bullets stuck in his knees and has to be held up by his niece and his brother-in-law, and every one of them is shot and hurt and crying and talia does her best to comfort derek while shaking as well

and stiles just closes his eyes. takes a deep breath. and takes care of his family-in-law, because fuck if he isnt gonna marry peter after this. he takes them in, gives them clean and comfortable clothes, patches them up, lets them shower, yeets his living room so they have space for a big puppy pile, gives them food and water to drink and then draws a ward around his house that is strong enough deaton won't be able to find them unless he sells his soul to the king of hell.

when he's done with that, he locks the hales in and asks kira to take care of them and make sure they're okay while he's gone. she agrees and stiles goes and because he's angry and kind of more dark than i let slip until now so he just. slaughters the hunters that are left. and he enjoys it.

then he shows up to chris argents house, shocks the living hell out of allison because he's still covered in blood and ash, and goes talk to gerard, who is there for alibi purposes. he just flatly tells the truth and asks gerard how many times they've done this now. and the second the old man lets slip the hales weren't the first, stiles goes full Older Derek Hale Mode and slams him against a wall to threaten the living shit out of the man.

by threaten i mean he says that he'll kill him and there's nothing the guy can do about it, cause stiles will find him, no matter how far he runs. yknow bamf dark stiles shit. i am living for writing this scene right now bye

and then he looks at chris and allison. allison looks scared out of her mind and then she asks if thats true. if her family really did something like that. and chris has to look her square in the eye and tell her through gritted teeth that, altough he didnt know about this, yes, they did that to innocent people.

and stiles looks at chris and gives him a nod, because he knows the guy can get this right, he knows allison is strong and fierce and will be fine no matter what. he looks at gerard and sneers at him in disgust. then he leaves like the dramatic bitch he is, but not without ensuring chris will clean this mess up and make an alliance with talia.

he goes back to the house and the only one still awake is peter, and stiles breaks down completely, covered in blood from head to toe and scared out of his mind too. peter holds him, gently leads him into the shower, and helps him get cleaned up, washes his hair, picks out clothes for him, and they go to sleep together.

then, recovery. stiles organizes therapy for derek because lord knows the boy needs it, he nurses the hales healthy, shows them around in the house, they meet his friends, cora and lydia take a particularly special interest in each other, scott is sad because allison broke up with him but stiles visits the argents and talks to her a lot and they become friends too, and he knows scott will get over her eventually, just as she's getting over him.

and stiles shows the hales his life for a while until everyone is recovered, and then they go back to the hale house that he cleaned up already (because, uh, corpses had to be buried, floors had to be cleaned from blood and the smell of magic and mountain ash had to be erased)

and then peter proposes to stiles and they have a beautiful wedding by the lake where cora can talk to lydia, and derek ends up talking to scott quite a lot because scott is nervous and sweet and falls head over heels for the quiet werewolf, and guess who allison ends up with? nobody. because allison is fucking awesome and in the hunter business and she takes it upon her to start cleaning up the community and goes against hunters that are like her aunt just killing innocent people and a relationship with anybody would just be annoying. maybe she realizes she isnt even into relationships, i don't know that yet. aro ally would be interesting, dude.

And then in the end stiles goes to live with the hales and they mend their territory together so he can still visit his friends and he leaves the house to cora who eventually moves there as an adult so she can live with lydia. he and peter move out as well and they go back to town when stiles is ready, because he's lived so freaking long in the fear someone will hunt him down and kill him for his power, and now everything is peaceful. so he puts down his weapons, stops fighting, and lives happily ever after.

and has loads of sex with peter. just because.

#steter au #steter #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #peter hale #cora hale #cora x lydia #corydia? #cordia? #scerek #scott x derek #scott mccall #derek hale #aro allison argent #allison argent #talia hale #laura hale #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf au #somehow everyone is queer and/or a supernatural creature #well except ally she is queer but human #i love her bye

[dearest-kibble]

Choking Point

TW: Noncon, choking (via dick) oral. Noncon oral (male receiving) Glass shards, Facefucking

 Little pops and the smell of burning caramel permeate the room. The sound of his voice, rough from screaming but not letting up in ferocity. You know you’re flinching, over and over. It gets even worse when Bakugo smacks over a vase on the floor. Glass shatters on the soft, carpeted floor. His face gets especially close to yours, teeth bared in a grimace and voice as acidic as the taste of the drugs he gives you. In a blind moment of unthinking panic, you scrabble back on the carpet. Mind only on the monster in front of you.  Your palm splits, porcelain digging into flesh Bakugo made sure was soft and unblemished. He’s not going to be happy today.

“Fuckin pathetic. Look at you, crying your eyes out over a little vase.” He rolls his eyes, sneering as the harsh words roll over his tongue and into the air.

“It hurts Bakugo…”

“The fuck did you just say?” His red eyes snap to your mouth, hands curl into fists before releasing little pops of explosions. You flinch and shut your mouth. “C’mon, out with it you cow.”

“Y-you hurt me.” His eyes widen slightly, and you can hear his labored breathing shallow slightly at your admittance.

“Stand up” The room isn’t quiet - breaths short and sharp punctuate your whimpers and Bakugo is barely containing the little explosions you know are as much a nervous habit as anger. As his red eyes stare into you, you’re not sure who’s more scared.

“I said, stand the fuck up!” A loud “boom” sounds from his left palm as the scent of  smokey sugar seeps into your nose, suffocating you.

“Yes sir.” You quickly stand, pain in your palm still throbbing. He grunts and circles round you once. Seeing no problem with your front or back, he gives an order.

“Be a good little pet and hold out your hands.”

“Y-yes Bakugo.” Stiff as a board, you lift your hands, keeping them straight and postured for easy access.

“Your palm.” The gruff tone of his voice drops. “It’s bleeding, open it.” His fingers needlessly pry gently at your already open hand, a cloth he always has on him starts to absorb the blood that was dripping from your palm.

“The vase, y-you-”

“Use your words.”

“You broke the vase a-and” He’s removed the glass and is carefully - gently wrapping the cloth around your palm. “And you hurt me.” Breath stops flowing as Bakugo’s hand - gentle hand - wraps around your neck.

“You fuckin cow.” He’s smirking as he lifts you off the ground. Your hands, though one has been bandaged, are clawing at Bakugo’s wrist, you’re kicking and fighting and you can’t breathe and he’d never hurt you. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

“B-bu-”

“Shut the fuck up, sweetheart.” The edge in his tone is mocking and the squeeze to your throat leaves you with tunnel vision. “It looks to me like you wanna get hurt.” He drops you and immediately you begin to cough on air that comes rushing back to your lungs.

“N-no-”

“Why’d you poke yourself with a stupid ass piece of glass then, huh?! Got any fucking idea how many arteries are in your palm?”

“Bakugou I didn’t know-”

“Of course you knew. How the fuck didn’t you hear a vase shatter? Your cow brain affecting those ears of yours?”

“I can hear your bullshit about not wanting me to be hurt.” Bakugo growls as you speak. “You just want to be the only person who can hurt me!” The air in your lungs has barely returned and this is the first time in months you’ve raised your voice.

“You such a little bitch that you think I'd hurt you?” You gasp for air, maybe if your lungs are full, you can talk him out of this, tell him you're fine - go back to your room - anything but be on the floor looking up at his red - boiling over like lava, threatening to melt you - eyes. “Fine. I’ll hurt you if you really want me too, you painslut.” Air doesn’t come quickly enough and you are still trying to breathe to speak when he roughly takes hold of your wrists. The sweaty hands feel rough around them as you shake your arms desperately to try and free yourself from Bakugo’s grasp.

“Too bad I don’t have any rope.” His eyes are so stern and his smirk a little forced. “You’ll just have to be good for me.” Once the words escape his mouth, his grin is a little more natural as he tightens his grip. “C’mon now, look at me! You wanna be hurt so bad and baby, I fuckin live to serve you.”

You're still surrounded by shards of glass that normally would've been cleaned up while you were forced to sit in your overly padded room. A rough hand collides with your cheek and finds its way into your hair to give a harsh tug up.

“I said look at me slut!” You look at the ground, uncaring of the pain in your scalp. “Fuck, you really wanna be hurt.” He laughs mockingingly. “I’ve been treating you all wrong, I shoulda known a whore like you wants to be hurt.” His hand leaves your hair only to grab your chin roughly and push up. Muscles strain in your neck as you fight to keep your head down. “Fucking look at me!” His voice roars and as you flinch his fingers lighten their grip for just a millisecond. The roar floods your ears as you look up at his other hand, slowly moving down to his zipper.

“Open wide sweetheart.” You glance up at his face with apprehensive eyes, met with darkened crimson and a tongue dragging along his lips. “Open those cocksucking lips for me baby. I know you like it rough.” Fingers pull at your bottom lip, and the taste is sweet and acidic, like caramel dipped pineapple. He prys softly at first and when your teeth still grind he yanks harshly at your chin and shoves a finger in your mouth. His other hand reaches down, palm resting on your cheek as he keeps your teeth from meeting.

“Be a good little slut and don’t bite, got that?” You blink twice, unable to move your head as he removes his finger from your mouth and moves it down below his waistline. You can hear a groan as he pumps his cock. His hand stays there and you almost try through open teeth to murmur a “Stop” before the salty taste of precum mixes with the sweet acidity of nitroglycerine. Your nose pressed flush against bushy blonde hair and the burning caramel smell mixes with a more pungent musk. He removes his thumb from your mouth and positions his hand firmly in your hair, getting a solid grip. He lets his cock sit in your dripping mouth for roughly thirty seconds before he takes his first thrust. His cock hits the back of your throat. The feeling makes you want to vomit and you move to pull away from him immediately. If not for the tight grip on your head, you’re sure you would’ve gotten away but instead he speaks in a rough, low voice.

“Slut can’t take my cock? Too bad.” And he gives another sharp thrust as the slap of skin fills the room. “Your little throat just-” He lets out a hushed groan as he fucks your mouth again. “Tightens so good baby.” Another thrust and his dick lingers in your throat as you heave slightly, mouth frothing with saliva. “Fuck - what if I just pinched your nose shut and you passed out with my cock in your mouth?” You try not to look at him, really try. But your eyes must flit up for a small second. “You’ve got such cute eyes baby, just begging me to fuck that tight little throat like I mean it!” He picks up his speed, already swollen lips feeling stretched too wide around his thrusting in and out. In and out of your throat, but never leaving your mouth. You look into his eyes, and hope he knows what you mean with the biggest doe eyes you can make.

“Yeah yeah-” His voice isn’t as calm as it might’ve been a minute ago, it’s strained, taught like a string about to snap. His thrusts, which were already erratic, speed up with small growls and groans of “Like that baby-” “Gonna fucing- yeah.” and “You take my cock so good.” He lets out a loud groan that reverberates on the walls as he finally pulls from your mouth, however slowly it is. There's hot, salty cum in your mouth and he’s still coming on your face, ruining your clothes.

“S-shit sweetheart- look so good covered in my cum.” He finally drops your arms which are sore and feel like they’ve been bruised and with his hand, thumbs over your cheek softly. “Can you say ‘I love you?’” Your tongue is still coated with thick white liquid that you just know he wants swallowed. You gulp it down quickly, acrid tang of salt and sugar mixing and slowly it passes down your sore throat and open your mouth, lips still painted the same white. You try to speak, yet all that comes from your throat are small rasps of “I” but you smile - if he thinks you enjoyed it, he wouldn’t do it again right?

“I knew you’d love it, you slut. Next time, you will pass out on my cock, like that baby? Wanna pass out with your mouth full of daddy’s cock?”

#katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha katsuki #bnha #bnha x reader #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw facefucking #yandere x reader #yandere fiction #bakugo x reader

[thevoidable]

Why did Dabi let Hawks into the League? (major manga spoilers ahead)

This is a question that’s been plaguing my head ever since Dabi proudly announced to Hawks that he’d known all along that he was lying.

If that was the case, what was the point of bringing him in? Surely Dabi must have seen this coming by enabling Hawks to continue his infiltration? What exactly was Dabi’s end-goal here???

It’s unclear whether or not if this will get explained eventually, but after giving it a lot of thought, I think I have a pretty good answer to the question regardless. Essay under the cut.

What is Dabi fighting for?

First, we have to address Dabi’s motivations. They run deeper than just making Stain’s will a reality - he’s taking steps that Stain never even considered to make, because even he was blinded by something that Dabi despises more than anything: hero idolization. Stain saw All Might as a true hero, someone worthy of the title, but in Dabi’s eyes, All Might is one of the biggest contributing factors to why there is such a huge problem with the hero system, and aside from All Might allowing other heroes to become complacent, it’s all because of Endeavour.

Hawks and Dabi are two sides of the same coin when it comes to the new no. 1; Hawks grew up seeing Endeavour’s ambition to surpass All Might as impressive and heroic, mostly due to the fact that Hawks himself lacks the drive to become so great, because all he wants is to live life comfortably. But for Dabi, Endeavour’s need to surpass All Might was nothing but a blinded greed for power, the need to be the best of the best for his own selfish desires rather than to actually save people. It was a path that led him to horrifically abuse his own family in order to achieve it, because he saw Quirk breeding as the only way to fix his own flaws. As such, Dabi, AKA Toya, suffered greatly at the hands of it. He knows firsthand just how much the hero system is unjust, allowing for people with unhealthy mindsets like Endeavour to gain positions of power. He knows that people admire Endeavour for his heroism, but are unaware of the monster that lurks behind closed doors, even when his temper comes out during public patrols. This is a man who is the very definition of a false hero, a man who let his eldest son die and traumatized his entire family.

Dabi goes on to claim in chapter 267 that there are no true heroes - this, however, does not mean that true heroes cannot exist. All he means is that there are simply no heroes currently present and he plans to change that, because in the system that society has right now, it’s near-impossible. Hero idolization forces heroes to become perfect images that people can admire, and it also enforces the mindset that only the greatest heroes can come from schools like UA and Shiketsu. This results in a flood of people longing to become heroes for reasons other than saving people. Uraraka, for example, while she is gentle and kind-hearted, is still only becoming a hero so she can support her family. It’s a well-paying job, and that kind of promise will most certainly lure anyone in who is desperate enough. Yes, she has good intentions in mind, and she does want to save people, but saving people is not her ultimate goal. So, by Dabi’s definition, she is not a true hero.

Becoming a hero should also not be as easy as it is, and becoming a hero certainly should not start at such a young age. UA and the other hero schools are putting teenagers between the ages of 15 - 19 at severe risk, and we’ve seen worst-case scenario results of this twice over the course of the series, and it’s terrifying to think that there are most likely more that we haven’t heard of.

First you have Shirakumo who died before he had even graduated, an incident that led him to becoming a nomu working for the League, who would then go on to cause the second result.

By placing children in such a dangerous training course, it automatically places targets on their backs for villains before they even get their licenses. The League proved just how incapable the staff are at protecting their students by not only successfully attacking a location within the school, but also kidnapping one of said students later on, even after UA’s attempt at keeping the location of the training camp hidden and Dabi himself had revealed their basic plan to Aizawa.

This is all fuel for Dabi’s fire in his journey to rip hero society apart at the seams, and while he is absolutely planning to kill every false hero he comes across, he also has a secondary plan in mind, and that is for the students.

In One’s Justice 2, Dabi has this particular voice line to Hawks: “We’re working for the glorious future where those UA kids are hollowed, and brought down to earth. We’ll have to see what you’re working for.”

Dabi knows that while they are all still young, there is still time to prevent them from falling into every hero’s brainwashed mindset: villains bad, heroes good, no matter what either of them do. 

Something extremely important that the MVA and the current war arcs do is flip the black and white narratives on their heads, showing us just how human and empathetic the villains can be, while the heroes are doing nothing but making unheroic choices and opting for making the violent move first. We’ve seen all of the heroes do nothing but dehumanize Shigaraki, calling him “it” and “thing” like he’s just some monster that they have to kill. We’ve had to watch Hawks murder Twice in the name of “justice” simply because Twice refused to come quietly and be forced back into a life he felt miserable in. Even X-less chose to focus on the machinery next to him rather than getting a near-dead Shigaraki medical attention, and we all know how karma decided to treat that.

And this is where I would like to bring your attention to Tokoyami.

We’ve seen multiple times before how Dabi seems to have no interest in actually harming the students - initially, anyway. He leaves Aoyama alone even though he saw him; he taunts Shoto but doesn’t attack him to get him away; and lastly, Tokoyami first showing up to rescue Hawks actually calms Dabi down. Dabi shows no intent of hurting them because they’re still just kids, not heroes.

Calling back to how the heroes are currently being depicted as the ones making all the disturbing decisions, Dabi doesn’t hesitate to be the first to call out their decision to bring the students into what is essentially a covert-ops assassination mission that has turned into an all-out war. He first recognises that the boy in front of him is just that: a boy, and instead of attacking, Dabi gives Tokoyami a chance.

But what chance, exactly? To escape? Absolutely not.

The first thing Dabi does is make Tokoyami aware of the crime his so-called mentor just committed, and carefully wording it so that the stakes were made clear.

Twice was trying to run away to protect his friends.

But Hawks still killed him.

Dabi is giving Tokoyami a chance to recognise that the hero system he admires hides many skeletons in its closet, and is something that is severely corrupt. He’s giving Tokoyami a chance to rethink his working relationship with Hawks and everything Hawks has taught him.

But Tokoyami doesn’t take it.

As soon as Hawks speaks up again, Tokoyami returns to being obedient, ignoring everything Dabi just said and focusing only on the task at hand regardless of the moral dilemma presented before him, and that’s when Dabi’s intention for Tokoyami changes, because as Dabi put it, “You’ve stopped thinking for yourself.”

And indeed, Tokoyami has. Tokoyami is now cemented in the brainwashed mindset, blindly putting his faith in that Hawks’s decision to kill Twice was right, simply because Twice is the villain and Hawks is the hero, and Dabi realises this.

Tokoyami is now a false hero, and thus on Dabi’s kill list.

So, we have established that Dabi fully intends to wipe-out existing false heroes, while simultaneously trying to save those who have the chance to recover/escape from the brainwashing before it’s too late.

“Keigo Takami!!”

It’s no secret that Dabi clearly knows exactly what kind of situation Hawks is in. The fact that he knows Hawks’s real name alone tells Hawks that Dabi knows far more than he is comfortable with. So, seeing as Dabi was able to see through Hawks’s lies so easily, let’s assume that Dabi knows most, if not all, of what we the readers know about Hawks and how the HPSC groomed him.

Considering that Dabi came from the no. 1 hero’s household, there’s a high chance that he knows quite a bit about the HPSC and just how shady they actually are, especially if the theories are true that they had a hand in covering up his own death. Dabi is well-aware then that the HPSC is responsible for the hero system being so broken, and the reason they do nothing to fix it is so they can stay in power. They are not afraid to make questionable decisions which they know is only making the villain situation worse, because villains are what’s keeping them in business. And what’s sad about this is that even when the decisions they present are clearly morally wrong, the heroes are in no position to argue, because the HPSC is in complete control of their jobs. The HPSC governs the hero system, so whatever they do must be just, right?

Well, Dabi definitely knows the answer to that.

The HPSC deliberately manipulated the heroes to believe that the UA students were needed on the front lines for this mission, and so far, we’ve seen that they really weren’t, actually. The evac team remains the best place for the students to be, because while the pros with all the combat experience can focus on the villains, the heroes-in-training can focus on the smaller task of getting people to safety. Sure, Kaminari, Tokoyami, and the other front-liners helped, but the pros absolutely overwhelmed the PLF on their own. All the front-liners did was just kind of...pave the way, make things easier, and then they were sent back to rejoin their classmates. And the heroes didn’t question the decision at all.

What’s even more disturbing is that the students weren’t even aware of what they were getting into, and most of the pros weren’t aware that the students weren’t aware.

But, as mentioned before, Dabi doesn’t hesitate to call this out.

It’s highly likely that he’s able to connect that the HPSC were the ones who organised this attack and sent the kids out onto the battlefield, which also means that he’s unfortunately no stranger to the HPSC reducing talented children to nothing but weapons, a concept he is also personally familiar with.

Toya was bred with the intent of creating a Quirk superior to Endeavour’s, and then put under extremely harmful training that abused both his mind and his body. We already know that Dabi is heavily against valuing a person’s Quirk over their individual worth, thanks to his fight with Geten.

And in the world of heroics, this unhealthy mindset is unfortunately in abundance, especially in Hawks’s case.

What makes Hawks an especially tragic character is that he started out with the same longing to be a great hero that every child has. He wanted to be a comforting sight to those in need, and his innocent mind thought that the HPSC would help him make that reality.

Instead, the HPSC presented him with a life-changing decision that a child his age has absolutely zero mental capacity to consent to, and it’s heartbreaking that Hawks’s grooming began right from the second they met. The HPSC forced a child into intensive training at an age even younger than students training at proper hero schools, and they ever-so-gradually began chipping away at Keigo’s hopeful dream, starting with the erasure of his own name, the first step in disconnecting him from who he once was.

Over the years of the hero Hawks growing up under the HPSC’s wing, he had been stripped of his childhood and moulded into the perfect image of a hero, one that is loveable to the public, obedient to his handlers, talented in his work, and completely self-sacrificing to his missions.

The HPSC has successfully groomed Hawks so that his selflessness is now their trump card that they hold over him - instead of using his selflessness to save others no matter who they are, he’s been manipulated to believe that he has to give up everything in his life to be a great hero, that he’s not suited for being a “shining light”, thus bringing about his new goal of creating a world where heroes have free time, a goal that he is unfortunately pursuing in the wrong way. He’s been brainwashed to not think about villains too much, to not sympathize with them and dig into where they came from and why they became villains, which is why he’s targeting the wrong problem when it comes to making his dream a reality. He believes that he has to solve every case as fast as possible, and eventually there will be virtually no more villains left to hunt down, but the League has already shown us that the roots of villainy stretch much further down than that.

We catch a glimpse of how Hawks even acknowledges that he’s being held down by hero society, caged, and yet he does nothing to change it.

The result of his grooming has left him stuck in a thoughtless state, where it’s easier to believe that everything he is doing is right, and the villains are wrong.

And this is unfortunately something that he has spread to Tokoyami, as evidenced earlier.

Hawks is a hero who was groomed and manipulated from a young age, being thrown into training just so he could become a tool for those in power to use.

Sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?

Dabi can read Hawks like a book

It’s wonderfully ironic how Hawks prides himself in being capable of fooling anyone and everyone, making himself the hardest person in the room to read while simultaneously being able to read everyone else, and yet the one person that he couldn’t predict ends up being the only one who knows him better than anyone else.

Throughout all of their interactions, Dabi has always been two steps ahead of Hawks, able to catch him off-guard and ruffle his feathers. Keeping in mind that Dabi had known all along that Hawks was faking his desire to join the League, it’s interesting just how long Dabi kept stringing him along. Was he simply doing it for his own enjoyment?

Maybe a small part of him was, but in the long run, Dabi was absolutely still testing Hawks’s worthiness. What makes this great, however, is that Hawks was unaware that Dabi wasn’t testing him for what he originally thought.

Loyalty was absolutely out of the question for Dabi, since he knew from the start Hawks wasn’t planning on being as such. So, what exactly was Dabi looking for?

Looking through the tests that we know Dabi put Hawks through (the battle with Hood, and taking out a hero of Hawks’s choice), we can analyse what Dabi was impressed with, and what he wasn’t.

First off, there’s not a lot that Dabi didn’t like about what Hawks did. The most he complained about was Hawks simply bringing along Endeavour to the Hood fight instead of someone else.

It appears that he also complains about Hawks not letting anyone die, but Dabi is always quick to point out when heroes are prioritising lives, and this will become important later.

Then, we have Dabi asking Hawks to take someone out who isn’t the no. 1. When Hawks brought him Jeanist’s body, Dabi was genuinely surprised, but pleasantly-so. 

Now, Jeanist’s death here serves multiple narrative purposes:

It shows us that Hawks won’t hesitate to kill for a mission (RIP Twice),

It shows Dabi that Hawks is capable of killing anyone, not just villains,

And lastly, it serves as blackmail for Dabi in his pursuit of bringing down false heroes.

(There’s also Bakugo’s whole thing with his hero name, but this isn’t about him.)

That last point is what granted Hawks access into the League, contrary to Hawks believing that the only reason he got in is because the merging of the League and the MLA suddenly made it easy to do so. 

Dabi wasn’t going to let Hawks in without making sure he had a backup in mind in case Hawks tripped up.

But, blackmail wasn’t the only thing that Dabi was looking for. If anything, it was just a bonus.

What the Hood battle and Jeanist’s death showed to Dabi were the two sides that Hawks possessed: a bird of prey that isn’t afraid to kill for a cause, and the innocent child who just wanted to help people. Dabi was searching for both of those qualities within Hawks, because they’re both qualities that Dabi himself has.

Dabi relates to Hawks

As previously mentioned, there’s no doubt that Dabi is aware of how Hawks was trained and forced into a life he didn’t want. He’s very aware of how much Hawks longs for freedom but still wants to help those in need, but what separates them from each other is that Dabi has achieved the freedom that Hawks wants and is pursuing his dream in a way that works.

Dabi kills for his cause, but that cause is ultimately to prevent the future suffering of innocent lives at the hands of false heroes. In his own twisted way, he too wants to save lives. He wants to stop the possibility of another him from being created. He is choosing to be the unfriendly reminder that something is very wrong with the current system, and it needs fixing ASAP.

And that is exactly why Dabi can see through Hawks’s lies, because he recognises that Hawks too is a victim of the same system.

Dabi’s plan for Hawks

With Hawks presenting himself in front of Dabi, it offered up a multitude of opportunities for him. Dabi not only had a new connection to Endeavour through Hawks, but here was a hero who was prepared to get his hands extremely dirty just for a way to bring down the League. 

Dabi’s prior knowledge of Hawks and his past allowed him to constantly have the upper hand, but not in case Hawks attacked.

Through testing Hawks to see what qualities he possessed, Dabi was able to see if Hawks was worthy not for joining the League, but for undoing the brainwashing he’d been subjected to.

Dabi let Hawks into the League because he was giving him a chance, the same chance he gave to Tokoyami, to see hero society for what it really was and decide to do something about it. Dabi saw the potential in Hawks to be a true hero, to return to the boy he once was and save people for the sake of saving them. He saw Hawks’s potential to kill false heroes and that he wasn’t afraid to do it, and the idea of someone thinking the same way as Dabi, of understanding him and his goals wholly, would have absolutely been enticing to him.

Dabi claims to not care about the League, but even if that were true, Dabi recognises that the other League members are important to each other, especially when it comes to Twice and how eager he is to make friends. Dabi introducing Hawks to the League was his chance to show Hawks that they’re all human, and gain sympathy for them and what they stand for. It would have been the ultimate power move on Dabi’s part for Hawks to turn on the heroes and go villain, undoing what hero society did to him, providing him the freedom he always wanted and ultimately proving Dabi and his ideals right.

But, unfortunately, that wasn’t how things went.

How Dabi’s plan backfired

When Hawks first joined the PLF, it was obvious that Dabi was sticking close to him, both to keep an eye on him and to be genuinely friendly and accepting.

It’s rare to see a smile like this on Dabi when he’s around heroes, and he never smiles around the League, but for Hawks specifically, Dabi is always smiling. I think it’s safe to say that Dabi did genuinely enjoy Hawks’s company and that he was the only one Dabi actually liked, which is probably what led to him being comfortable with leaving Hawks to his own devices for the next few months, especially when he started a budding friendship with Twice.

Dabi must have been confident that Twice would be the one to break through the last of Hawks’s walls, because if we were seeing genuine smiles from Hawks, then Dabi must have seen them too.

However, it’s clear that Dabi severely underestimated Hawks’s capability to kill anyone. 

Hawks leaked the information to the heroes, an attack was launched, and Dabi immediately knew why.

And he was, understandably, incredibly pissed.

Upon confronting Hawks and hearing how he was about to kill Twice, Dabi used what he’d learned about Hawks during the Hood fight to his advantage and triggered Hawks’s rescue response, prompting him to subconsciously save Twice from Dabi’s flames, because Dabi knows deep down that a hero is who Hawks really is. What he was most likely hoping was for Hawks to maintain that response, but he instead made a mistake and directly caused Hawks to go back into mission-mode.

And it’s just a downward spiral from there, with all of Dabi’s last-ditch efforts falling flat. In one last desperate attempt to reach through to Hawks, he called out his name. His real name.

Dabi’s final chance to bring Hawks to his senses was to try and reconnect him with his past self of whom the HPSC had carefully erased, and it almost worked. Dabi let Hawks know that he knew everything about him, everything that he once was, but just like with Tokoyami, Dabi learnt the hard way that Hawks was beyond saving.

With Twice’s death, Dabi completely lost it, scolded Hawks for not focusing on him, and dropped one last bomb on Hawks before ending yet another false hero.

Until, yet again, that too backfired due to Dabi’s hope that he could save an innocent mind from the hero system’s brainwashing, and Hawks escaped with his life.

We get a glimpse of Dabi’s defeated expression, the knowledge that he can’t cry, and that he just lost two friends within the span of just a few minutes.

What next?

Honestly, if there’s one thing that is going to break Hawks, it’s knowing the truth about Endeavour. My hope is that Dabi is going to have a chance to make his reveal public to the entire nation, and exposing Enji Todoroki for the abuser he is will really shake things up.

At the moment, it’s still not clear exactly what Dabi told Hawks in his redacted bubble, but it was obviously something relating to his identity. Only time will tell what Hawks knows once he regains consciousness.

#dabihawks #dabi #mha hawks #bnha hawks #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #theory #dabi is a todoroki #mha manga spoilers #bnha manga spoilers

[yandere-daydreams]

alright, but consider this: Yandere Ares. He’s a towering man who knows his own strength a little *too* well and will break both of your feet if you try to run away

I’m not Ares’ biggest fan, but… damn, he’d just such a *perfect* Agressive-Possessive. In terms of jealousy alone, really. It’s just how Gods of War are, and Ares certainly isn’t going to make ane effort to be any different.

TW: Implied Kidnapping and Physical Assult.

~

Ares was an imposing man. If nothing else, you’d give him that. He towered over mortals and Gods alike, his weapons always sharpened and his armor always polished, despite those eyes being enough to make most of his enemies crumble faster than the cities he demolished. His rage could be felt across a continent, and even the gentlest of touches would leave their recipients sore. He was strong, all-encompassing, his presence alone becoming suffocating after more than a second.

You weren’t imposing. You weren’t strong or impressive and you couldn’t make someone surrender just from looking at them the wrong way. But, you were scrappy, and luckily, that seemed to be the one tactic Ares didn’t have a strategy to defend against.

Even after weeks of the same routine, months of it, you could still hear him tripping over the decorative spears you’d torn off the wall, stumbling to avoid the tables and statues you’d overturned to slow him down. Evasion wasn’t an option, not when Ares knew his fortress better than the back of his hand, but you’d never had a problem with slipping out of your restraints and reeking havoc until he managed to catch you. Of course, you wanted to escape properly, to find the court of the nearest peaceful kingdom and beg for hospitality in a place where Ares had no power, but that hadn’t been your goal since the first time you failed to do so. Making his life a little harder was good enough.

Making him suffer meant you were good enough.

But, all good things must come to an end. As you rounded another corner, a pitch-black wall replaced empty space, the hall forking into two distinct paths with little warning. You froze, instinctually, wondering which you should choose and where you’d taken a wrong turn, but even the smallest of hesitations was enough to seal your fate. Just as you broke into a sprint, strong fingers rooted themselves in your uncut hair, pulling you back just as quickly as you’d started to run. You were jerked in front of him swiftly, Ares’ grip iron-clad and unwavering despite how deeply your nails were embedded into his skin, or the small slivers of it you could get to through copper gloves, rather.

“I told you to behave,” He grunted, his breathlessness becoming apparent as soon as he started to speak. You couldn’t help yourself, smirking proudly, the fact that you’d exhausted an Olympian filling you with a well-warented confidence. But, Ares was quick to wipe the expression off your face, another light tug forcing you onto your toes. He seemed to want to tear your scalp off, but you’d grown used to the constant threat. “I could snap your ankles like twigs, I could break your neck in a moment.” He paused, sighing, shaking his head as you failed to react. “You know how forgiving I’ve been, don’t you? Any pathetic, lesser deity would be honored to take your place at my side.”

“And yet, I don’t see many candidates lining up.” The comment slipped out easily, not that you made a considerable effort to stop it from doing so. Ares’ glare refocused, but you knew better than to meet it, averting your gaze to the ceiling with a light shrug. “I suppose I could count Mrs. Aphrodite, if I’m being generous, but she hasn’t been around lately. Did you manage to drive her away too?”

There was growl, guttural and fierce, but you didn’t give-in. Ares was as fond of your stubbornness as he was every other part of you. “I should have you thrown into Tartarus--”

“What you should do, what you could do… you’re always talking about possibilities, aren’t you?” He faltered, baring his teeth at the words, but the moment of hesitation allowed you to slip through his plated armor, your nails soon burrowing into a soft spot near his wrist and ripping through his skin, blood washing over your fingertips as Ares released you, more out of reflex than pain. You regained your footing immediately, but you didn’t run, your stance remaining passive as you continued. “We both know you’re not going to hurt me, Ares. You’re not going to touch me, and do you want to know why?”

“Because I’m merciful--”

“Because you’re a coward.” This time, you didn’t try to keep your tone calm or compliant or civil, gritting your teeth and taking a step forward. You were tempted to stab at his chest, to make a grab for the sword strapped to his waist, but you crossed his arms to suppress the urge, settling to let him fester instead. “That why I’m here, right? Because you’re scared of people you can’t control, and that makes you need to feel big. You probably thought I’d be too busy trembling to ever see through your stupid little show. Or, were you just hoping I’d be too meek to call you out?” He opened his mouth, but you only scoffed, gesturing to your chest and daring him to try something. “Go ahead. Maim me, scar me, send me to Hell. Even a pit full of monsters would be preferable to spending one more minute putting up with your bullshit--”

You didn’t get to finish, a fist closing around your throat in the blink of an eye. You were off the ground in a moment, back slammed into the nearest wall and windpipe all-but crushed by the metal suddenly weighing down on top of it. You kicked and struggled and writhed, attempting to hold yourself up by his wrist, but Ares only grit his teeth and dragged you further up, uneven stone tearing at your tunic as he did so. He didn’t stop until you were at his height, forced to meet his stare. Aversion wasn’t an option, not when he was practically breathing down your neck. You wondered if he’d go through with it, if he’d finally, finally end you, but he didn’t.

You knew he wouldn’t. The would be too kind for Ares.

The remaining air in your lungs disappeared as he leaned in, Ares sparing no brutality as his teeth lodged themselves in your jugular vien. You could feel the puncture wounds form, the bruising start, blood beginning to drip over your collar by the time he pulled away. The pain was minimal, but your own apparent helplessness was agonizing, red stains soon forming on white cloth, the blots carrying an uncanny resemblance to the eyes boring into your own. “For my hand,” He explained, as he pulled away, his lips stained with the carnal color. “I hope you think twice before doing something so disrespectful again.” 

You moved to respond, to curse him out or spit something vile, but all it took was a flex of Ares’ hands to silence you, his grip smothering any words that could’ve formed on your tongue. “You’ve never been respectful, have you? Always running your mouth, running away, always making me look like a fool. But, that might be my fault.” Ares rolled his eyes, tapping his index finger against your jaw. “That’s why I have to do these things. You see that, don’t you? I never taught you to respect me, and now I’m dealing with the consequences. We both are.”

He dropped you unceremoniously, letting you fall into a heap, gasping and gagging and rubbing furiously at the marks he’d left, each attempt to clear the carnage only making the injury sting more. If Ares noticed your panic, your distress, he didn’t seem to care, a grin breaking out on that horrid face as he crouched in front of you. His hand returned to your hair, but there was no roughness, this time, no unfeeling cruelty. Only gentle, careful strokes, each one dripping with more patronizing affection than the last.

It might’ve scared you more than his former actions had, honestly.

“Clearly, you need a proper lesson. We should start right away. There’s no point cleaning you up for a task so dirty, is there?”

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