Tim Is Such A Loser Bc Wdym You Named Yourself After Your Evil Multiverse Counterpart AND It Was Your

“It takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations.”

Bang Chan, son of King Adam and Queen Belle

Fic

(I know the watermark doesn’t match my @ on here it’s my TikTok one I just like my current one too much to change it 😭)

I could write essays about txt’s lore

animorphs is funny because the kids spend almost the entire series turning into birds of prey to fly in virtually every scenario while complaining about how they have to space themselves out so it doesn't look suspicious that all these rare raptors are grouped together, about how birds of prey often have to do a lot of hard flapping work to fly in some situations they're not meant for, about tiring out easily, etc. to the point where it starts getting weird and confusing that they literally always use those bird morphs instead of thinking to turn into e.g. migratory geese for certain situations as per their general capacity for pragmatism. and then in literally one of the last books in the series some of them turn into geese to fly long distance and spend the entire time going "wtf this is great why the fuck didnt we do this earlier holy shit." and also the answer to that question is at least in part "one of the animorphs is just literally on all levels including physical a hawk that gets snooty about bird species he thinks suck and would have been really annoying about it"

I KNOW CHRISTMAS IS OVER BUT HERE BRUCE AND JASON ANGST RAHHHHHH

Do you ever forget you have superpowers? Kon does often.

It’s still a sweet gesture.

You have no idea the demons I fought to not turn this little comic angsty. I might still do it, I haven’t decided yet.

my precious beloved au where the v3 survivors loop around to becoming toxic n obsessive dr fans <3

bonus:

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GENRE: gen, tua au, angst, hurt/comfort

SUMMARY: Renjun is thirteen when the world ends around him. He's seventeen when he tries to save it. Title from 그냥 괴물을 살려두면 안 되는 걸까 (Can’t We Just Leave The Monster Alive?) by TXT

WARNINGS: temporary character death, apocalypse, child abuse, child neglect, grief, alcoholism, underage drinking, minor emetophobia

Chapter 3

Jaemin spends his morning tending to his brothers. It’s what he does. As kids The Rumor’s power was always best suited for offense. Jaemin’s job was to stop people when they got too close to his brothers, and it bled into every aspect of Jaemin’s life.

Always treat Mark’s injuries because his eldest brother would bleed himself dry for their father. Always feed Renjun because his scattered molecules and exhausted body after spatial jumping for hours on end burned through calories faster than the boy could handle. Always support Jeno’s plans, even the ones doomed to fail, while thinking of backup options so his brother didn’t crumble.

Always hug Donghyuck, tight and warm and alive, so the boy wouldn’t feel lost to the cold embrace of the ghosts who haunt him. Always comfort Chenle after he and their dad had another fight. Always go to every one of Jisung’s dance showcases because their dad wouldn’t.

Jaemin doesn’t know who he is if he’s not caring for his brothers. When they get back from the crematorium, his father’s ashes held gently in Jeno’s hands even though Jaemin knows he could shatter the urn without breaking a sweat, Jaemin starts cooking lunch. He goes for something light and easy that all the brothers can stomach and makes ramen.

Jeno winces as he does it, but Jaemin pretends not to notice. “We’ll have the funeral after lunch, okay?” He says casually. Jeno sighs but nods. Jaemin sees the spoon he’d laid against the side of the pot start moving on his own and feels his heart twinge a little. “Thank you, hyung,” he murmurs respectfully. He misses his brother so much it hurts. Instead of dealing with that he grabs a pan to start frying vegetables.

Their lunch is simple and easy to prepare so it’s done in less than thirty minutes as Jaemin hollers for his brothers to get their asses downstairs to eat. Jeno winces when he’s done. “I would’ve gone and got them,” his brother says, pained. Jaemin ignores him.

Donghyuck gets to the table first much more sober than he was earlier and noticeably more jumpy. “How are you, Hyuck?” Jaemin asks as he spoons a large portion of rice and vegetables into his brother’s bowl. Donghyuck’s eyes track something behind Jaemin’s back for a long moment.

He gulps when he responds, “I’m fine,” even though Jaemin can see how badly he’s shaking. Jeno frowns and hugs him around the shoulders in both comfort and forgiveness for the slight against him earlier. Donghyuck droops bonelessly against their leader’s shoulder. Jaemin hands Jeno his bowl as they share worried looks above Donghyuck’s head.

They’re unable to say anything when Jisung walks into the kitchen. He’s wearing the sweats he usually wears to dance in, and he’s slightly out of breath. “Feel better Jisungie?” Jaemin checks. Dance has always been how Jisung regulated his emotions from the moment any of them could remember.

Being in a family where everyone was extraordinary, and you were not was exhausting. Mark had spent a while begging their dad to allow Jisung to train with them in hand-to-hand combat. Their dad had refused every time. Mark, barely five years old and missing two front teeth, had gotten the maddest Jaemin had ever seen him. He’d pitched a fit, wailing about the unfairness and begging their dad to stop excluding their brother, all the while sobbing about the unfairness of it all.

Jaemin hadn’t seen him for a solid week afterward. Mark had come back quiet and withdrawn so pale Donghyuck had screamed because he thought he was dead. He’d never gone against their dad again. He’d never told them what had happened no matter how much Donghyuck tried to annoy it out of him.

Instead one night before curfew Mark had gone into their massive library and searched for good activities to pass the time. He’d shown the book to the other kids the next day during a break in training Jaemin remembers. He can picture himself, chubby hands pointing at the camera in the picture in excitement, as Mark tells them about the different things people did to pass the time.

Right after dinner that night Mark had pulled Jisung off to the side. Jisung had started dancing not long after. Neither of them had ever confirmed Mark was who introduced Jisung to dancing, but Jaemin had always suspected.

“I do, hyung,” Jisung responds quietly settling onto the stool next to Donghyuck and murmuring his thanks as Jaemin passes him his food. Chenle comes down the stairs then tired eyes taking note of all his siblings.

“Did you take a nap, Chenle-ah?” Jeno questions. Chenle bobs his head, and Jaemin tries not to let how jealous he is show on his face. God, he’s so tired. Chenle accepts his food with no fight this time and starts in on it immediately.

Jaemin starts doing the dishes as his brothers eat by habit. He’s stopped by Jeno getting up and forcibly dragging him to the table. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a meal together. Let’s at least try to enjoy it,” their leader says. Jaemin hums and doesn’t point out that they’ll never be able to have dinner with all of them together again.

He eats his noodles slowly, not truly tasting anything, as his brothers quietly chatter around him. Slowly their spoons stop moving and their bowls empty, but they still don’t get up. A funeral feels too real, and privately Jaemin feels as though it’s a respect their father does not deserve.

Renjun had never had a funeral; their dad said he didn’t deserve one for his blatant disrespect. Instead, their father had hung a portrait above the mantle of Renjun. Despite sharing the same features it looked nothing like the boy himself. His eyes were too cold, and his lips weren’t titled upwards in his usual small smile. Jaemin hated that stupid painting so much.

In contrast, Mark had been allowed to have a funeral. A horrifically somber affair of his siblings screaming themselves hoarse with their wails of grief. Their dad had allowed Mark to have a statue engraving the boy’s name and “May the darkness within you find peace in the light,” below a metal sculpture of the boy in his academy uniform. Jaemin hated the statue, but not more than Donghyuck did.

Donghyuck had screamed at their father for the words on the bottom, for commissioning a statue of his son in the attire he’d died in and not his everyday wear, and had demanded to know how many of them had to die for their father’s stupid quest before he finally gave up on it.

Their father had locked him in the mausoleum for three months. It was the first time Jaemin fully realized their father did not care if they died. He’d suspected it when Renjun had gone missing, and he’d started to believe it when Mark died, but he’d never fully grasped it until Jeno had pried the mausoleum doors open after months of begging their dad to tell them where Donghyuck was.

The fifteen-year-old had been slumped against the door, his fingers bloody from scratching at the walls, and absolutely terrified. “He’s going to kill us all,” Donghyuck had whispered. “He killed me.” Jaemin had begged for more information, but the boy had no more to offer. Jeno and Jaemin had carried him into Jaemin’s room and treated his wounds. After they’d gotten the boy to sleep in Jaemin’s bed Jaemin had told Jeno that they had to leave. Jeno had argued about the money, the rent, and jobs, but Jaemin wouldn’t budge.

“He’s going to kill us, Jeno,” he’d said confidently. “He’ll kill us all, and I’m not going to just sit back and wait to see whose next.” Jeno had gulped and looked down at Donghyuck who was absolutely covered in scratches from the dead. He hadn’t protested any further.

Instead, he’d asked to make a plan. They needed to save up money, find jobs, and a place to stay, and then Jaemin would rumor their father into letting them leave. Jaemin had agreed almost immediately. Donghyuck had taken longer to get on board.

Jaemin spent days just hugging his brother and begging into his shoulders that he couldn’t lose him too. Losing another brother would destroy Jaemin. It had taken their father threatening to lock Donghyuck in the mausoleum again after a careless comment he’d made at dinner to get his brother to agree. Jaemin hates his father so much that even now when they’re about to scatter his ashes to the wind he fantasizes about rumoring the man into walking off of a cliff.

Jaemin had gone to a convenience store he knew was hiring downtown to rumor them into letting Jeno work there. Most places in their area wouldn’t hire a fifteen-year-old with no degree so Jaemin was forced into desperate measures. He’d rumored the nice old lady who ran the gas station into giving him his job and then felt so guilty about it he cried. The last person he rumored was the manager at the music store Donghyuck works at.

He’d also rumored his father into giving them money. He felt the least remorse about that one. They saved up money for about two months before Jaemin got to look his bastard of a father in his eyes and force him into giving them their freedom.

As a kid Jaemin had tried to rumor their father only once. He’d planned to rumor him into being nicer. Jaemin had barely gotten the words, “I heard,” out of his mouth before his father had slapped him across the face so hard he saw stars. Their father didn’t normally hit them so directly, he was much more creative and cruel in his punishments, so Jaemin was so taken off guard when this happened he just turned and ran out of the room. He won’t let that happen this time.

He’d opened his dad’s office and before the man could demand to know what the hell had gotten into Jaemin he’d already started, “I heard a rumor,” he’d said with his power literally reverberating through his vocal cords, “that you let us move out.” His father’s eyes had glazed over, but Jaemin wasn’t finished. “I heard a rumor that you stop training us.” He’d waited to make sure his power had taken effect. They were supposed to start training in exactly five minutes.

“Number Three?” His father had questioned when he saw Jaemin standing in his office. “What are you doing here?” Jaemin waited for his father to say something about training but he didn’t. The only thing he did was stare at his son in confusion.

“Nothing Dad,” Jaemin had whispered as he fled to tell Jeno the news. The last person Jaemin rumored was their landlord. He’d have never let them move in without Jaemin’s persuasion and wanted to charge them so much money for the rent it was almost laughable. Jaemin made it manageable.

The day of them finally moving out came quickly. Donghyuck had gone to retrieve Chenle and Jaemin had dragged Jisung into his bedroom.

“What’s going on?” Chenle had complained when he saw the serious expressions on his older brothers’ faces. Donghyuck had grimaced at his brothers so Jeno had sighed and taken charge.

“We’re moving out. We can come back here if you leave anything so don’t stress too much about packing,” Jeno’s words were deceptually casual. If you didn’t know him you wouldn't be able to tell how nervous he was. Chenle and Jisung had made shocked eye contact.

“Can we…Can we have a moment to talk about this? Alone,” Chenle had asked pointedly. Jaemin had protested, but Jeno had dragged his brothers out of the room anyway. It took at least three hours for Chenle and Jisung to emerge from the room both with tear tracks on their faces. When they finally did so they were holding hands. “We…we can’t move out with you, hyungs,” Chenle had said softly.

“It’s okay Chenle. Dad won’t care, I rumored him,” Jaemin had promised. Chenle sighed.

“It’s not that. We can’t…we can’t make you guys take care of us. You guys are fifteen…” Chenle was choosing his words carefully, but he was speaking with conviction.

“It’s okay. We can take care of you, I swear,” Jaemin had promised with tears brimming in his eyes. Jisung bit his lips as the fighting started.

“Seriously, we’ll be okay. We can deal with it,” Donghyuck had promised, but his words were slurred. Chenle had sighed deeply dragging a hand down his face.

“Hyung, you’re not even sober. We can’t do this. The academy has been okay for the last few weeks; Jisung and I will be fine to stay. You won’t have the money to feed all of us, and you probably don’t have the space.” Chenle’s words were soft as if that would lessen the blow.

Jeno’s eyes had filled with tears as well. “We can figure it out. Jaemin, Donghuck, and I can share a room, and you two can have your own. We can make it work.” Jisung had frowned.

“Don’t you see how unfair to you that would be? How are you even expecting to afford food for all of us?” Jisung wasn’t looking at any of them, but his words were sure.

“We’ve got jobs. We can do it,” Donghyuck had sworn. Chenle shook Jisung’s hands off of his and let them curl into fists.

“Don’t you get it? You can’t. You can’t make this work. It’ll never work. Leave us if you must but don’t drag us into this doomed plan.” Chenle had glared at each of his brothers with tears on his cheeks.

Jeno tried again, “Chenle…we promise,” Jisung cut him off though.

“Hyung…it’ll never work. Please stop fighting and just accept what we all know.” Jisung had wrapped his arms around himself in lieu of Chenle’s comfort. Tears slowly started to fall down Jaemin’s cheeks.

“Guys,” he’d started but Chenle had cut him off.

“No,” he’d said quietly but sternly. Helplessly Jaemin had turned to Donghyuck and Jeno, but they’d both shrugged. He felt his resolve strengthen. He hadn’t rumored one of his siblings in years, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still capable of it.

“I heard a rumor,” he started as he heard his siblings gasp around him. Jaemin didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Chenle took the knife off the thigh holster he had on and threw it straight at him. Chenle never missed. Jaemin was left choking on his own blood as his brothers exclaimed in alarm.

“I’m sorry!” He could hear Chenle scream in the background. “I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want him to…” He trailed off as Jisung grabbed his shoulder.

“I’m going to take you to Mom, okay Jaemin? You’ll be alright. You’re fine,” Jeno had frantically tried to comfort as Donghyuck’s hands fruitlessly tried to staunch the bleeding. Jeno had picked him up bridal style, and Donghyuck took his own shirt off to apply pressure to Jaemin’s wound. Jaemin remembered at the time thinking it was ironic that the team’s medic needed medical attention.

Their mom had stitched Jaemin’s throat up, but he hadn’t been able to talk for six months. Chenle had gone to the infirmary, crying so hard he could barely breathe, to apologize to Jaemin.

“I’m so sorry, hyung,” he’d sobbed. “We’ll move out with you, I promise. I’m so sorry.” He held Jaemin’s hand as he cried. Their other brothers had watched the two closely. Jaemin had brought his and Chenle’s joined hands to his mouth to tenderly kiss his brother’s knuckles which just made Chenle cry more. He’d then gently untangled their hands to grab the notebook resting on his bedside table.

He’d flipped to a clean page and wrote, ‘It’s okay. You don’t need to come with us. I only want you guys to come if you truly want to and you don’t. I’m sorry I didn’t respect that before.’ Chenle had spent a while sobbing afterward.

Despite not being fully healed the second Mom had declared Jaemin was able to leave the infirmary he, Donghyuck, and Jeno moved out. Chenle and Jisung had hugged them for an hour as their older brothers whispered promises of visiting and protection in their hair.

After a while, Donghyuck gently untangled himself from Jisung to hold his face in his hands. “Jisung-ah, if anything happens. If you’re scared for any reason, or if you’re lonely, hell if you just want Jaemin’s cooking swear to me you’ll come over. No matter the time,” Donghyuck was more sober than he’d been in days, and it had startled Jisung so much he’d agreed immediately.

“Of course, hyung,” he’d said while bringing his own hands up to cover Donghyuck’s. Next to Jisung the other brothers untangle themselves from Chenle although Jaemin had kept close hold of his hands.

“That goes for you too, okay Chenle? No matter what happens or where we are we’re you’re older brothers. You’re our first priority,” Jeno had said intensely. Chenle had closed his eyes to try to stop the tears.

“I know, hyung,” he’d sworn.

Jaemin grabs onto Chenle’s hand as they walk to Mark’s statue after he shakes off the memory. Chenle squeezes tightly so Jaemin leans over to drop a kiss onto his brother’s hair. After they all gather together, umbrellas held tightly to warn off the heavy rain, Jeno starts.

“Our father was a…complicated man,” Jeno starts and has to trail off to grimace when Donghyuck snorts.

Chenle scowls. “He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him, and I’m glad he’s dead.”

“Chenle-” Jaemin interrupts gently, but Chenle breaks apart their hands and scoffs.

“My name is Number Two because our father couldn’t even be bothered to give us real names; he made Mom do it! Isn’t that right Number Three?” He demands. Jaemin scowls.

“Of course it is. I just don’t think he’s worth wasting breath over,” he hisses. Chenle scowls and shoves him so Jaemin grabs him, and they start grappling. They’re stopped from fighting further when the ground starts shaking and the sky ripples with color.

“Oh, what the fuck is that?” Jisung questions. Jeno pushes all of his siblings behind him as the ripple continues to grow.

Donghyuck gapes at the sky before asking, “Does anyone else see tiny little Renjun? Or is it just me?” Jisung sets a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I see him too,” he assures. All of them start screaming when they see the boy start falling from the hole in the sky.

“Catch me, you idiots!” He shrieks.

Jeno dashes forward murmuring, “Definitely Renjun,” right before getting squashed by the boy. Donghyuck repeats his previous question about ensuring everyone can see Renjun, and Jisung reassures him once again. Jaemin, in the meantime, walks closer to Renjun. He doesn’t get super close to the boy in an effort to avoid startling him but starts cataloging him from a distance.

“What day is it?” Renjun demands.

Jaemin frowns. “It’s December 6th. You’ve been missing and presumed dead for four years.” Jaemin tries to keep the swell of emotions choking him out of his voice, but he’s not sure how well he succeeds.

“No, I was trying…I was trying to go back to before…Before that stupid dinner,” Renjun insists stubbornly, and Jaemin’s heart twinges as he thinks about the night Renjun went missing. Renjun’s head swerves as he frantically starts looking around, and he deflates as he catches sight of Mark’s statue.

“So he already…” He trails off, but Jeno sees where Renjun is looking.

“He uh…he died on a mission. When he was sixteen. About two years after you left,” he says faintly. “Dad put up that memorial not long after.”

No one says anything for a minute. Jaemin uses the moment of silence to take in his brother. He’s skinnier than he was when they were younger, a little taller, and cheeks hollow from missing meals. He’s not wearing the academy uniform he was when he went missing, and it makes it hard for Jaemin to catalog all his injuries. Still, he knows his brothers enough to know when something is wrong.

“Where is Dad?” Renjun finally asks.

Jeno grimaces bitterly at the urn he’s holding. “Uh here. He had a heart attack so I guess he really did have one after all.” He winces as his joke falls flat.

During this Jaemin creeps closer to his missing brother and observes him more carefully. Now that he’s closer he can see all the scrapes and bruises Renjun’s clothes don’t hide and truly take in how malnourished and exhausted his brother is. He tells Renjun all of this bluntly before ignoring his protests and herding him into the house.

He lets Mom help Renjun take a bath while he heats up some of the soup he made for breakfast this morning. He’s hoping it’ll be light enough for his brother’s malnourished body to handle. Mom guides Renjun back into the room with a hand on his bicep. She’d given Renjun some of Chenle’s clothes in hopes the brother closest to his height would be a similar size, but the clothes hang off Renjun’s frame.

Jaemin settles the soup in front of his brother and watches carefully as he eats not protesting as he doesn’t finish the bowl. Instead, he waves their mother off and gently guides Renjun’s arms over his shoulder to help him go to bed. He foregoes Renjun’s own room, coated in dust from years of the siblings being unable to enter it, and instead settles him in Jaemin’s own bed. Jaemin’s room at the academy is used the most out of the older siblings for the sheer fact that Jaemin comes over to cook for Jisung and Chenle once a week.

After Renjun passes out on Jaemin’s bed the boy slides down beside it and just cries. He cries for the missing years, the elation of his brother being alive, and the ache of grieving for a boy who just needed to be searched for. He cries like he hasn’t since Mark’s funeral. It takes him a while to calm down, but when he finally does he ducks into the bathroom to clean his face.

He walks down the stairs and sighs as he sighs his brothers gathered in their kitchen again. Jeno perks up when he sees him and thankfully doesn’t comment on his brother’s puffy eyes. “How is he?” He asks nervously. Jaemin sighs as he slumps onto the stool next to his brother.

“Asleep. He was too tired for me to ask anything so I just got him fed and put him in my bed.” Jaemin’s words cause a silence to settle over the brothers until he hears quiet sniffling. “C’mere Jisungie,” he calls while pulling his youngest brother into his arms. Jisung settles his head on his brother's shoulder and just cries. There’s not anything else to do.

Park Jisung, Number Seven

No ability

The ability to harness and manipulate sound and energy.

“Parents forgive their children least readily for the faults they themselves instilled in them.”

Fic

”man im so sad riku cut his hair” ok first of all i agree with you but also mayhaps there is a reason riku might not want long silver hair maybe he associates it with a concept or perhaps a person