#Also this is to my knowledge I deeply apologize for any errors

[violent138]

I understand that everything happened really fast in DCeased, but I did find it interesting that Alfred left Bruce, Dick, and Tim's bodies in the Cave and rushed to Damian's side (and also didn't bother giving any of the other kids a head's up, even later when they had some form of communication). Jason then gets to stumble on the bodies after a few days, buries them, and goes looking for other members of the family.

[shortandslytherin]

The Fake Gryffindor - Neville Longbottom x Y/N Malfoy (Part 1)

Summary: The reader finds herself caught up in a web of lies when she accidentally is mistaken for a Gryffindor. Soon she finds herself covering up lies for Draco and her family but she might just have a few secrets of her own.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, light angst? (Probably more like hurt/comfort), Y/N lies a lot, and a curse word or two.

Notes: Y/N is Draco's twin. Y/N will have she/her pronouns. She's obviously going to look like Draco but occasionally will change that. In the occasions when she changes that I'll use (h/c) or (e/c). If you are blonde or have blue eyes just use whatever colors you'd like. I'll also use (Y/N/N) which means your nickname but that will make more sense later on.

I proofread this myself like four times but never asked anyone else to proofread. I'm sorry if this has any errors in it, just let me know and I'll fix them.

You were deeply madly in love....with Neville Longbottom. You knew your family would never approve. He was not only a Gryffindor but also a blood traitor. But probably the worst of it was he was the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom. But had you just broken his heart? You knew your family wouldn't accept him but after everything you thought he maybe he'd accept you. You often asked yourself how the tiny affair all began and the answer is quite simple really. It all began from an inopportune duel between Draco and Harry in the corridor.

September 1995

It was common knowledge that the Malfoy Twins could almost always be found together. Sure, you had different friends but you'd always be found together like two peas in a pod. However, this common knowledge seemed to be lost on Harry Potter. "MALFOY!!!" He screeched as he ran down the hall and you both turned around. "I know you sabotaged Neville." Before either of you could say anything a jinx was being thrown your brother's way. Draco pulled out his wand and shot a jinx. All you could think was. "Where were all the professors at time like this?!" You heard both boys shoot another spell and they bounced off each other. One staining your robes the sickly colors of Gryffindor and the other causing Ron Weasley to sneeze bats. You were angry until you saw Ron then you could only laugh. When the Golden Trio walked away, you looked to your twin. "How do I fix this?" He shrugged in response. "I'm not sure...I think a switching spell? I'm struggling with that one." You gave him an annoyed look. He continues. "We don't have time to find a professor to help. But you can't be caught dead in that." He pointed his wand to your hair. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Colovaria." He spoke the word that changed the color of your robes and now your hair was (h/c).

"Oh, do my eyes too. I kind of think the stormy-grey blue won't go good with anything but our platinum blonde." You rambled and your brother rolled his eyes then pointed his wand to your eyes. "Colovaria." Now your eyes were (e/c) but soon enough this would need to be fixed and you'd look like a Malfoy again.

So Draco Malfoy walked alongside his sister towards nearest stairwell so they could get to lunch. To the untrained eye he was spending time with a Gryffindor but there were some who would know the truth just by their interactions. Neville Longbottom wasn't one of those people. He was rushing out of the potions classroom after a long lecture from Snape about blowing up his cauldron. His eyes were filled with tears. How could they not be? Snape was literally his boggart and you were fully prepared yell him to watch where he was going. But two things stopped you. One, you were pretty sure he had no clue who you were. Two, he was already in a frenzy from whatever your godfather said. “I’m so so so sorry!” Neville quickly apologized and you found yourself dumbstruck. He continued speaking. “Are you okay??” Neville quickly scans his eyes over you just to make sure. Neville Longbottom actually for the first time seemed like a person. Had you just thought differently because of your twin's perception of the chubby teen? "Umm...I'm fine." You looked more at Draco than Neville as if saying that you could take care of it. Draco shrugged and left; which left you alone with Neville. "Oh. So you aren't hurt? Sorry! Sorry!" Neville's cheeks turned bright red. You gave him a reassuring smile. You were no fool. You knew how he actually felt about you and your brother. But still you felt the need to comfort him. "You should calm down a little. Are you doing okay? You look a little freaked out." You tilt head to the side in questioning of his well being. Neville let out a deep breath. "No, I'm not okay. I just had a terrible class with Professor Snape!" You nod in understanding. You were in that class and Draco did indeed sabotage Neville's potion. But in all honesty, it probably would have blown up anyway because his potions partner was Seamus Finnigan. You were well aware that both boys were forced to stay after class. You didn't really know much more than that; except that you bumped into a seemingly distraught Neville. He turned his face away out of embarrassment shook his head at situation. Clearly, he was embarrassed of his fear. You felt an overwhelming amount of pity for him but you wanted to comfort him anyways. "Don't fret, I've got thick skin. You didn't hurt me." You reassure him again before quickly thinking on your toes in what you should say. "Yeah I saw that...I mean kind of. I left class when he'd asked you and Finnigan to stay back. No point in sticking around to listen Snape yell longer than I have to." He looks at you oddly so you just keep talking. "I just mean I was in potions just now. I can't say I'm surprised since it happens all the time. He yells at everyone. You don't have to be embarrassed about it." There seems to be a little nod of agreement at this and you remember something you've always hated. "You could be like Draco or Y/N and only be his favorite student because you're his godchild. Or you could be yourself and know that all you can do is your best." The way Snape picked his favorites sounded like nepotism and that's the only reason you hated it. It wasn't nepotism. You were actually always getting Os in Potions but it just sounded as such. Neville, however, seemed to be upset by your words of comfort. "I always try my best but it's never enough! He hates me!" He shook his head as a few tears fell down his cheeks. "Why does he hate me? Why? Did I do something to him?"

You were taken back by the reaction. You were a Malfoy. Malfoys didn't really do well with emotions. They were usually packed up on a shelf and never heard of again. Isn't that why Draco dated Pansy though? So he could feel...something? You knew you had to say something. "You didn't do anything." You glanced around real quick to make sure no one is listening before continuing "Listen, I shouldn't really say anything bad about him because he's...well you know. But I can't stand here and see one of the few people I actually think deserve respect cry so I'll be honest with you." You paused at your own words. Since when did you think Neville Longbottom deserved respect? It didn't matter. Shelf it. You continued on. "You didn't do anything wrong, Professor Snape is just a bitter old man. Don't let him get you down. Prove him wrong." Neville's sad expression turns into a determined look. The tears running down his cheeks were quickly wiped away by himself. "Y-you're right. You're totally right. The next time he insults me, I'm not going to let it affect me! I'm going to prove him wrong!" Neville says, sounding much more confident than how he usually is. The boost in Neville's confidence makes you smile brightly. "That's the spirit. You should put the same spirit in for anyone who insults you. You shouldn't let the opinions of others hurt you so much. Especially when they aren't true." Neville chuckles in response. "Thanks, I'll try. It's always easier to give advice than to accept it." You know he's right so you just offer a tiny shrug. But you didn't know his next words would feel like acid on your skin until you heard them. "I always get picked on at school. People call me names, laugh at my mistakes, make fun of me. It's horrible. It's always easier to believe those things than to believe I'm worthy." You find yourself trying to fix the past four years mistakes in one speech. "Well then don't believe what's easiest. Believe what the sorting hat already knows. The sorting hat is never wrong, you know? So if the sorting hat is never wrong then I believe it's in you, you just gotta believe it too." You smile again before giving a light laugh. "Well I should head off to find my friends so we can go to lunch. Hey, I'm not saying that you have to but if you want to when everyone is in the Great Hall for dinner, wanna come watch the sunset with me? It's my favorite time of day." Neville can't help but smile. "Yeah for sure. I'd love to watch the sunset with you. I didn't catch your name though." Neville's confidence is back again. You grin at him. "Because I didn't throw it. If you actually show up tonight, I'll tell you it. Bye, Longbottom." He says goodbye as well and heads off to The Great Hall. As soon as he's out of sight, you rush off to Slytherin Common room where you'd planned to hide out until you get help fixing Harry Potter's mess.

When lunch was over, you found your godfather in his office and explained the situation. "You're both fools." He said monotonously. "It's a simple color changing spell. Same spell that caused the problem." He did the coloring changing spell to everything effected then sent you off to class. You looked like Y/N Malfoy again. But as for feeling like yourself, you didn't. You talked to Neville Longbottom without an hostility laced into your voice. It's a strange feeling. A feeling that had you dragging your feet through the halls of the castle. "Did anyone see the girl with Neville?" A voice asks from an empty classroom so you peak in. Dean Thomas must have asked because he has a curious look on his face. "Nah, Mate. But he seems to be in a much better mood since talking to her. He said she didn't give her name." Seamus confesses. "What house was she from? Because that narrows it down." Ron asks and your heartbeat picks up. They're talking about you. Neville told his friends about you. Hermione shrugs. "I think he'd told Harry she was a Gryffindor." Then the conversation shifts to 'Where is Harry anyways?' so you walk away. You just wanted to cheer Neville up. You invited him to watch the sunset with you because it's a nice thing to do. You didn't think he'd tell his friends about you. Oh, you were so screwed it wasn't funny. You have to talk to Draco during your next class. You just felt so lucky that your next class was Charms. You were pretty decent at Charms. You could half listen to Flitwick and still pass your O.W.L.s at the end of the school year.

You walked into class and dropped down aggressively next to your twin. You rolled your eyes at his confused cronies and even more confused girlfriend. "Crabbe...Goyle, get lost. Go sit with Nott or Zabini. I can't stand deal with any more idiots than I already have today." Goyle seems taken back by your tone. "Fuck, you're moody." Then the two rushed off before you could lash out at them. "Pansy, I'm sorry but I really need to talk to Draco about something private. Can you sit somewhere else? You can have him all to yourself the rest of the day. I swear I'll keep Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber away from you both." You negotiated like Draco wasn't sitting right there. "Deal." The other Slytherin girl replied; before she bounded off to sit and gossip with Daphne Greengrass. "Aren't you glad I sent her away?" You joked and Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you want?" You made a face. "Well....I made a snap decision and it may have been a bad one. And now I think I need your advice." Draco rolls his eyes. "Oh Merlin, what did you do?"

"That's the thing I felt an obligation to cheer up Longbottom."

"Why? It's just Longbottom. He can't even use his own wand right."

"Well for starters, I bumped into him and he apologized. He was already crying because of our Godfather. Our aunt drove his parents mad. Need I go on?" You give Draco an annoyed expression.

"No, continue."

"So I cheered him up...but then suddenly he was all upset again talking about how he's bullied all the time...it kinda made me feel bad."

"What did you do?'

"I invited him to watch the sunset with me. But I didn't tell him who I am."

"What were you going to do tell him when he showed up?" He chuckles and then suddenly stops. "Wait... seriously? That's a horrible plan." You nodded in agreement. "Especially now that I've heard all his friends talking about this Gryffindor girl that Neville mentioned and wouldn't you know he met her today, doesn't know her name, and she lifted his spirits." You relay to your brother and he raises an eyebrow at you. "So it's simple. Give him one night of whatever it is he needs from this little Gryffindor version of you then disappear off the face of the planet." You nod. "I can do that."

After all the classes for the day ended, there was free time which you spent on reading. Shortly before it was time for dinner, you've changed into a warm sweater and a pair of jeans so you can stand the cool night air. However, the coloring changing spell has been used on your eyes and on your hair. You walk through the corridors of the school and make your way out of the building and sit next to black lake. All that you can do now is look at the sky and hope for the best. You even find yourself mumbling. "I hope he gets here before it starts to set."

A couple minutes later, you hear someone walk up behind you and stop next to you. "Beautiful, isn't it?" The person, you recognize it to be Neville, asks softly. He's looking at the sun which has only just begun to set. "I've always loved sunsets, they always make you think of where you are and where you're going." You think about how insightful that is as to who he is as a person. Then you remember why you came to love sunsets, you and Draco would watch them when you were small kids. "Yeah I love sunsets...they remind me there's beauty even in a world plagued by darkness. I think my brother and I really needed that growing up." You confess without giving anything away. "I wish more people appreciated them or at least simple things like it." Neville gives a soft and warm smile. "Yeah I agree. People take the small things for granted. The sunsets, the little moments in life. Those are the things that are most special in life. It helps remind you to live in the moment." You turn and look at him with a soft smile. You suddenly wonder if it'll break his heart to do what Draco said. You sigh at that thought you can't break his heart after everything your family, yourself included, has already done to him. You can just date him until the spark dies, right? But then again he never claimed to be in love with you. And of course your mind settles on Draco's plan. You plant a kiss on his cheek and resting your head on his shoulder A soft, comfortable silence hangs over the two.

For a second, you don't even realize that silence is coming from the fact he's surprised at the affectionate gesture. But by the time you're ready to move away and apologize for your actions, he's smiling back at you and hugging you close. You feel guilty that you're lying to him but you have to give him your name at some point. "My name is (Y/N/N)....(L/N)." You mutter. "A beautiful sunset, with a beautiful person. What more can you ask for?" He asks, kissing the top of your head. The guilt in your chest grows "You're so sweet if either us is a beautiful person. It's you. I have to admit something embarrassing. I spent my whole day thinking about meeting you here because cheering you up made me feel.... different. But then when the time finally came I thought you wouldn't show up. I'm glad you did." Your face turns red in embarrassment that you actually cared if you were stood up by a Gryffindor's running punchline. Neville smiles at you with a blush on his face. "I can't lie, I was kinda the same I was worried you might not show either. You're super nice, pretty, smart and funny. You could obviously spend time with anyone. Why me?" He responded.

At that moment there was only two questions you asked yourself. Neither question had an answer. "Do I feel bad for Neville Longbottom? Why would I?" You finally found your voice after a long pause and laughed slightly. "Well I'm here and I'm not disappointed. I'm enjoying the company and the sunset." But you didn't feel the need to respond to all the attributes Neville claimed you had. It would just be hurtful to lie about how nice you were or what kind of humor you had. But you did feel terrible everytime you made him laugh. "I'm definitely not complaining about your company." Was he flirting? That should be a good thing, right? But it just made you want to trip him in the halls because where's that confidence when he needs to stand up himself? How could he flirt with a stranger but not stand up against his bullies? However, you'd never tripped him before and you wouldn't start now. In fact, you usually just repeated whatever nonsense Draco said.... often feeling guilty for it. Unless it was The Golden Trio, you never felt guilty about making fun of them. But just for today, you'd laugh along with him. Which is how you found yourself laughing and looking at him in shock. "I don't believe you are the same boy who just this morning was crying because Professor Snape was being a grade A twat. You sound so confident." You laugh some more. Neville smiles softly. "He just makes me so upset because I feel like people are always against me. I've just always been dealing with people making fun of me and being rude to me so I guess I just had to get it out." He lets out a small sigh and gives you a hug. You feel guilty when he gives you another reminder of how terrible you are to him. But even still, you offer a smile. "I'll never be against you especially if you continue to be this sweet. I think people treat you unfairly because you're a little clumsy and a little awkward. But being perfect is overrated. You're perfect by being yourself." You tell him but it's just you paraphrasing something your mother once told you. You continue on paraphrasing your mother. "And remember people like Snape don't define your worth. You do." It's honestly good advice that when you were thirteen you didn't want to hear. Who wants to hear that they are treated unfairly because of their own flaws? And then to make it worse told that they were perfect with the flaws everyone hated? You still thought it sounded silly but knew Narcissa Malfoy was rarely wrong. "And honestly I think you're worth more than Snape's opinion or anyone else's opinion. What's your opinion of yourself? And don't go with the easiest answer." You add with a bit of curiosity. Neville thinks deep about your question. He looks down at his shoes for a moment. He sighs. "Honestly, I don't have the best opinion of myself. People have always picked on me and put me down and I've gotten to the point where I just agree with their opinions of me. I know I should change that but it's hard sometimes. Do you really think I'm perfect by being myself?"

You mull over how to answer such a loaded question. No one was perfect. You knew that so the answer was no. But your Godfather, truth be told, terrified you. Maybe not as much as he scared Neville but certainly he did. You lived in a constant fear that the smallest slip up would mean direct owl to your parents and your fear of letting them down was all too real. So you decided maybe you should share another little piece of yourself with Neville. "Honestly, what I think is if the roles were reversed and I bumped into you this morning after being bullied by Snape I would have cried. Just bumping into you would have broke me. I wouldn't have held in whatever I was feeling in order to check if you were okay. But you checked on me, multiple times, before you let your own feelings out. Which makes you stronger and probably braver than I'll ever be." Neville's eyes light up, "I just always try to be kind to other people or at least not rude like some other people I know." His words stab you in the chest but he doesn't seem to notice as continues. "It's just a part of who I am, I guess." He looks back up at the sky. You seem to find yourself wanting to stay this pretend version of yourself and look at the sunset as well. "I hope this sunset never ends. You know....we could stay up just a little bit past curfew. It will be okay as long as no prefects or teachers catch us sneaking back in..." Neville's eyes light up with fear. "Are you sure that's not against the rules?" He asks with a his entire demeanor changing. You laugh a little. "Oh it's most definitely against the rules." You say; your eyes dancing with amusement at his fearful demeanor. Your Slytherin roots definitely showing as you continued. "But that doesn't mean it isn't worth the risk." You add but frown when you see he doesn't seem up for it. You decide to fix your mistake. "Well...maybe we shouldn't stay out too late. We still do have classes tomorrow. I don't want you falling asleep in Professor Snape's class and getting in trouble." He gets up and offers you a hand to help you up. "Just for that last comment, you get the honor of holding my hand while we walk back." He smiles sweetly at you. You feel something in you become disappointed as the last few minutes of the sunlight disappear behind the trees. You take his hand in yours as you get up. "Well then I'm honored to hold your hand. It's sad the sunset couldn't last forever." His hand feels is soft and warm; almost familiar. You also notice his hand is a little clammy, it seems he might be a little nervous. "Do you think we'd be able to be able to have a long term friendship?" You nervously bite your lip at your own question. His face grows into a huge smile and he looks you in the eyes. "Are you kidding me me? Of course!" He says, his voice being slightly shaky and quiet. He smiles nervously but he's obviously happy. You smile nervously, because of your very Slytherin secret, in return even though your tone of voice is happy. "I'm happy it's a yes. I don't know what I would have said if it was a no." He gives a soft laugh "Well, as long as you said something it'd be okay because it'd mean you're talking to me, which is something I would like." He says softly. "But let's not worry about that now. I feel like this is the start of great friendship."

Friends with Neville Longbottom....how bizarre... You sigh happily "Well, I guess you're ready to hear that I'm never comfortable with people so it's really weird and embarrassing for me to feel like I trust you." He frowns as you speak but by the end of your confession, he smiles. "I trust you, too. I mean, I can't believe I'm saying this. The most beautiful girl in Gryffindor wants to be my friend and now she says she feels comfortable around me? My jaw is literally on the floor." He laughs and the fact you're not actually a Gryffindor burns in your throat. "Only most beautiful in Gryffindor, huh? Who's the most beautiful in the school then? I'm not jealous, just curious." You raise your eyebrow. His eyes go wide at your question and he stammers in response. "How can there be someone more beautiful then you? That's impossible. It's you, it's you without a doubt." He blushes when he realizes he's rambling. "You're just... perfect." He whispers and you laugh a little at him. "I'm not perfect and I actually find enjoyment in knowing I'm not perfect." You notice that the two of suddenly fall into a rather comfortable silence as you walk back to the castle. You don't even mind when you two stop in the greenhouse so Neville could go in the greenhouse and check on a few plants he'd been helping Sprout maintain. Your mind is waterlogged with thoughts of how you can possibly approach him as yourself now...and the answer is you can't. You can't even bully him anymore. You'd made a promise that you would never be against him.

You don't even realize as the portrait of The Fat Lady opens. You've just been trying your best to ignore getting caught by Flinch or a prefect. You suppose it'd be terrible if a professor caught you but you knew that you weren't yourself so who would go to your detention? You actually weren't too stressed about a prefect either; unless it was Draco. Draco knew you'd been with Neville. But the other prefects would just take the points from Gryffindor. You feel the overwhelming need to say something. "Maybe I will see in classes tomorrow. I don't really know your class schedule." You squeeze his hand gently as a goodbye. He nods as he listens to you. "That would be awesome! If we have classes together, I'll be sure to say hello." You in a silent confirmation of the plans that can never come to pass. You feel happy that he enjoys your company but you know he'd feel different if he knew who you are. You look around the Gryffindor common room with mild interest. After a moment, you cringe at red that surrounds you and the window that looks out to the sky. It's too home-y. You're used to the home that is the Slytherin common room. You love green aesthetic and the desolate lake that you stare out into through the windows. "Wow...we made it back to the common room already." You mutter but it's more out of distaste than wonder. He nods. "Yeah, we did get back pretty fast. Do you wanna head on up the stairs or would you like to spend more time just talking a bit?" He tilts his head as he says it. You're anxious to get out of the Gryffindor common room. "We both should get to bed. It's getting late. I'll see you in the morning." He nods and then whispers. "Yeah, I'll see you in the morning." As soon as he's up the stairs and on his way to his dorm, you rush out of that godforsaken common room. Thankful everything can go back to normal. "Okay now I just have to make it back to the Slytherin common room without being caught..." You mumble with a little sigh. But even as you reversed the color changing charm, you knew things would never be normal. You wanted to be Y/N/N L/N because she could keep promises that Y/N Malfoy couldn't....

[ufo-thetimesareripe]

Comment on what MrTucker said.

What he said doesn't worry me too much as there are some points of the question that don't hold up, but not because Tucker is in bad faith, but because he hasn't yet acquired certain knowledge that comes to us from advanced civilizations of the past. That there is a self-destructive tendency of humanity is an undeniable fact and the ET guardians are right to watch over us. But they also do it in their own interest, since if the Earth were destroyed the repercussions would be on a galactic level. The discussion of evolution, however, does not stand up and in fact there is a heated debate on this even at the level of the scientific community. Darwin always spoke of the adaptation of species and not of evolution, which was subsequently attributed to him in good or bad faith by those who had an interest in doing so. In fact, from time to time, life forms are still discovered that had been declared extinct and which were one of the links of evolution and if they still exist they are evidently not. Evolution is on a spiritual, non-material level and depends first on automatisms and then on consciousness. If man were an evolved ape, then I would expect to see cats, dogs, lions, etc. sooner or later. evolved capable of speaking, planning, doing and undoing exactly like man does. The material body is only a biological interface used by the soul fallen from its spiritual position to interact with matter, and therefore no biological clone of a human being with consciousness can ever exist. In fact, consciousness derives from the soul. At the very least, it will be possible to create a sort of biodroid that imitates human behavior because it is driven by AI, but which will never be comparable to a real human being. The ETs are therefore just watching over us, especially those who are close to us generically as they have mixed their DNA with ours in the past. They monitor us, as we are like unconscious children who are handling dangerous technologies of which we do not even fully know what repercussions they would have on the alien community of the galaxy if they were used on a large scale, and I am therefore referring to weapons of mass destruction, which in part has already happened, as it was this that attracted their attention more than ever, and I am referring to the numerous nuclear experiments of the past which made our atmosphere poisoned and wounded our planet deeply which being a living being did nothing but ask for help. I would also like to clarify once and for all that the Fermi Paradox as presented is distorted. Fermi loved asking embarrassing and unconventional questions to his colleagues and when he said the famous phrase: where is everyone? He said it following the numerous UFO sightings that were happening at that time all over the world, and he wasn't saying it to deny their existence, he was simply wondering where they came from. Then the usual mystifiers such as modern debunkers divulged the version with the meaning that they had been ordered to divulge, because in the upper echelons this position taken by a character like Fermi was not appreciated. This too is therefore a form of cover up. Remember, if we want to see things from the right perspective, we must go beyond the Veil of Maya, and this will only be possible with a powerful spiritual work that each of us must do on ourselves. This is not appreciated by those who command the world who would like humanity to be enslaved. If everyone does this work themselves, little by little the fog will clear and they will finally be able to see and understand the dynamics of the material and spiritual world and will be able to begin their journey which will take them back to the Supreme Scientist in the dimension that belongs most to them, the spiritual world, full of happiness, eternity and knowledge. English is not my native language, so I apologize for any errors I may have made that I have not corrected.

Oliviero Mannucci

[aquila-non-capit-muscus]

Why Does the Caged Bird Sing?

I am going to be ruined for the rest of my life… I am doomed. I don’t know what to do, but not that I’m scared to choose. It is because I am afraid that my choice will cause hurt to the ones I love (any direction I choose: to at least someone), which I will not allow.

So my only choice I can see is to ‘not’ act which as far as I can foresee only causes hurt to me. Unfortunately, it damages me in such a way that I will completely be unable to be happy for the rest of my life (and to eternity). To forever live with the knowledge that I could have had the most magical and amazing chance for my dreams to be made reality - but instead forced so deeply into this mud-pit I’ve been publicly thrust into so that I am to become a pariah to the whole world with reputation, heart and honor irreparably broken into a dismally sad dead-end life of drudgery and toil. I don’t understand why this is my only option, but I don’t know what else to do.

If anyone would care to engage with me in such a way that I communicate what I have discovered and why I can or cannot make certain choices, I would love the option. But, since I have not been able to divine which group(s) have access to what/where I reveal anything… and because some of the secrets I have uncovered could potentially cause harm to those group(s) I cannot even provide to the ones who have assumed control of my life why it may seem like I am incapable/nonconformative/unworthy. Which I believe to be an unfair assumption.

I wish I could tell you what I think/feel/know but as privacy and security are not mine to control I find myself unwilling to reveal more than I may have already in error. I have tried to express some concerns, but I’m not sure if any of the right people even saw these (or this) as control of my ability to communicate has also been stripped away.

In fact, there has been so very little that exists in the realm of TRUTH for me know that CONTROL seems to me to be the most important factor in all of this (as opposed to love, punishment, healing, responsibility, spirituality, intervention, evolution, sacrifice, family values, trust, community, work ethic, romance, vengeance, dreams, hate, wealth, hope, bloodline, or anything else that has been presented as a necessary ‘cause’ for the situation I am in); and I apologize for having ruined plans for any/all involved in setting these events in motion. All I want — all I have wanted all along is to make things better for everyone… especially for the one’s I love most who seemed to be getting the worst end of life’s “learning” stick. I have had this thought as my mantra for so long it is what has kept me going when all else has been taken or gone away. I have been in crisis-management mode for around 25 years or so, and I am sorry if it has culminated in the events of last fall shattering my ability to process fast enough to keep up with wave after wave of newly presented riddles and puzzles. If I had been given even only a couple answers through the course I believe I would have been able to meet if not far exceed requirements, but as is… I can see that I have not been in any way able to heal, nor have I been living in any way how I would like to be. Instead barely surviving in any way I have been allowed to with my thoughts, dreams , and actions locked up, frozen, fragmented, and not representative of potential.

Why does the caged bird sing? To distract itself from the abuse it has been forced to suffer and it’s own negligence owed to enduring such as it has. So that it doesn’t have to recognize that it is neck deep in shit and sinking… you want me to learn to fly on my own with clipped wings while shackled to my perch. But even still, I sing as much for your benefit as my own because I fear you may be feeling the same and we could all use some cheering up. I love you all. For any that have hurt me, I forgive you and truly wish you only the best; and for those I have hurt, I am so, so very sorry. I have never meant to and wish I could make things better. You all deserve the best, most magical, happiest life you could ever imagine and I hope that you will find it if you have not yet.

Please understand how sorry I am for my part in ruining any positively intended influencers’ plans and if able to… I hope that the one(s) responsible for my predicament will contact me privately and without the ‘veil of lies’ that coats my reality now. If not I may well be cornered with doom looming in all directions, but if so — id est quod id est. I tried and I never quit… I just ran out of viable options.

[izekoi]

General dating hcs

Feat. Switch & Knights

a/n: First of all, despite being in the fandom for over a year now, this is my first time writing for enstars please excuse any errors. I also didn’t intend for this to turn out as long as it did, it started with Natsume and then I thought about how fun dates with Arashi would be and then here we are. Lastly, I apologize for putting out something that has probably been written over a hundred times in this site, I do hope people enjoy it nonetheless 😂 (also not a knightsP but hopefully this is sufficient lol)

(myanee if you see this, hi)

Natsume definitely has a nickname —a term of endearment— for you. As odd as the nicknames get it’s truly just his way of showing his love.

He might not say but Natsume has thought about the possibility of you putting him under a love spell at least once. He didn’t expect himself to be the type to fall in love so deeply after all.

He tends to show you off in front of Tsumugi. As if he can’t make it anymore obvious that you’re HIS beloved

Sometimes he takes you along to watch his experiments, he doesn’t want to bore you, but he’d be very excited if you were to show interest in something he loves.

He goes out of his way for you. He won’t settle for a usual candlelight dinner for your anniversary. How mundane would that be? Instead, he spends sleepless nights creating potions and effects you’d love. He expresses his love in a work of art and he’ll create a stage where the two of you can stand on.

Tsumugi is shown to have low self-esteem. Sometimes you’ll hear him outwardly question why you had decided to date him in the first place. It’s even more odd hearing it with his usual smile plastered on his face as if his question was common sense. This is something you might have to work on in your relationship.

Despite his seemingly dense and air-headed nature, Tsumugi is a natural and very good caretaker. You can count on him to get your necessities and take care of you when you’re sick.

Dating Tsumugi would mean that he’d leave the choices to you most of the time. Whether it’s your date spot or food, he’ll give recommendations here and there but the final verdict is usually yours to make. He’s usually happy as long as you are.

He’s doesn’t necessarily show you off, just that his inability to read situations might suggest that he does. For instance, putting a comment about how cute you looked while you were asleep during an unrelated conversation or how he’s always bringing up the things you said in front of his group mates.

He’d give you good luck charms and his knowledge with flower language certainly helps him pick gifts for your dates. If you’re not allergic to pollen then you’ll often find him bringing them for you on dates.

Sora is very sensitive to your mood. His ability to see your color makes it impossible for you to hide anything from him.

He’s naturally optimistic and upbeat, eager to help when you’re struggling. You can count him to cheer you up during gloomy days.

He’s rather clingy and touchy, often suddenly hugging you from behind when you’re working. He doesn’t like to be away from you much, resulting in you spend most of your time with switch or in the game room.

His favorite date is whatever as long as he gets to hold your hand. He mostly prefers it being indoors simply because he can see your color without much disturbance. He thinks it’s the prettiest.

Tsukasa is very much a gentleman and could be rather nervous when it comes to romance. Since he has never been in an actual relationship.

He does grand gestures, whether it’s bringing you to have anniversary dinner on the best restraurant in town or bringing you out on a romantic boat ride. He wants to make sure he’s treating you right.

He prefers to stick to the traditionals, candlelight dinners and flowers are more of his thing but if you prefer dates in amusement parks, he’d be happy to comply.

It’s actually the little things with him, the way he wraps his jacket around you when you’re cold or the way he holds your hand in crowded places to keep you from getting lost, he seems to always know what you need

Has learned to play your favorite song on the piano to impress you.

The relationship will be a slow-paced one as he is hesitant to do anything that might make you comfortable. He’s the type to ask for permission before initiating anything

Oh boy, this one’s clingy. Ritsu seems like he always has to be touching you. Whether it’s sleeping on you lap or clinging to you in attempt to use you as a pillow.

He’s a tease, he naturally likes poking fun at you. Even more when he gets to see you flustered.

He loves to be spoiled, he loves the feeling of your fingers running through his dark strands or when you give him pats and pull him to rest against your chest.

Doesn’t hesitate to say ‘I love you’ at all in fact you might hear it several times a day. Sometimes he says it out of nowhere as he nuzzles against the crook of your neck, cuddling you to sleep.

Ritsu is not the type to take much interest in his surroundings and despite his annoying (lovingly) tendencies he cares very much about you and is often the first to notice when something is wrong.

Dates are.. how to say, mostly it’s just you doing something and him laying on your back, or side, or lap or anywhere else possible while he’s asleep. Though his favorite spot is where he can cuddle you to sleep be it in the couch, bed, or a coffin lol

You are Leo’s muse. As much of a musical genius he is, sometimes even he is surprised by how you always seem to be able to bring out his best.

Has definitely made several songs about you. He feels much more comfortable expressing his feelings using music even more when it’s you. Words just aren’t enough to describe how much he adores you.

He can’t be away from you for too long, clinging yo you every chance he gets. When he’s working, he’ll always be able to find you during his break time. When he’s away overseas, you’re the first person he seeks as soon as he gets home.

Drags you along during meetings, also has tried to drag you along in his trips.

You’ll eventually learn to read his thoughts beacuse this man is anything but predictable. One minute you were planning to take a small walk in the garden and the next he was dragging you through the amusement park’s entrance

Very… PDA, doesn’t hestitate to hug you in public or say I love you at all. At this point practically everyone in the agency knows you’re dating.

Izumi has a naturally sharp tongue, and it didn’t become any less since you started dating. In fact, you feel like his nagging has become much worse.

He comments on every little thing, whether it’s a loose strand on your hair or crinkled clothes. But you know that’s just his own way of showing you he cares.

At times you feel like you have a personal alarm clock, often getting calls or messages from him asking if you’ve eaten or not or to see if you’re asleep.

It’s always such a treat to have him take care of you when you’re sick. Watching him ramble about how careless and stupid you are for not taking care of yourself better, all the while he’s feeding you and diligently changing the cloth on your forehead every other hour.

The type that goes ‘no one can insult this person except me’. He sure loves nagging you, but the moment someone else does it he’s quick to come to your defense.

Arashi loves to dress you up. You’re going on a date? She’s beyond excited to pick your clothes together, do your make up, and of course, do your hair. Most of the time it’s more about the dressing up rather than the actual date.

She loves taking trips to salons together or simply shopping down the street, dropping by her favorite cake shop on the way back.

Arashi is very good at taking care of people. She loves to pamper you, often going out of her way to make sure your needs are properly met. What you need, however, is to remind her to take care of her own self at times.

Although seemingly calm and mature, Arashi does get jealous. She has no doubts about your feelings for her but she can’t help but grow competitive whenever you praise and spend more attention on other people.

She loves you very much, and she makes it clear to you and everyone. She’s not necessarily nosy but she makes sure to show how much she loves you. You are her one and only.

[exn0bisstudios]

A small update and an apology

Hello, my loves!

I am writing this post because I realized I made a mistake, and I wanted to let you all know that I recognized my error and have made changes to fix it, as well as wanting to issue an apology to anyone my mistake my have harmed or made uncomfortable.

The mistake in question was using language on the introduction post for TMP that was unintentionally othering towards trans people. Namely, that I did not specifically list the cis characters, but did specify which character was trans. After reading several opinions on the matter, as well as having personal discussions on it, I realize now how hurtful and othering this kind of language is and I am deeply sorry for perpetuating the behavior with my post.

After listening to several opinions on the matter, I have opted to edit the post to specify all the character’s genders, rather than entirely removing specifications. My hope with this approach is to not only remove any othering language or implications, but also to satisfy those who like seeing trans characters represented in intro-type posts at-a-glance. However, the discussion is not closed, and if there are any questions or concerns about my approach to this, I encourage you to reach out to me! My inbox and messenger are always open!

In closing, I want to say that I am definitely still learning, both in regard to my personal experience with gender, as well as with how language is evolving to be more inclusive, and I’m grateful that I’ve had this opportunity to learn more (even if I regret it came about in a way that may have hurt people). I want to assure everyone that I will now, and always, endeavor to keep learning and to implement this knowledge into my life and works so that everyone can feel welcome and safe.

Thank you very much for reading! 💗

[sou-ver-2-0]

Maybe I'm thinking too much about the Persona games today, but are there any characters that you would pair any tarot arcana with?

What a fun question! I think that tarot cards have like, the coolest aesthetic ever. Unfortunately, I don’t know much about tarot arcana, so I went on a deep dive into Wikipedia to try to understand it. I’ll apologize in advance that A. E. Waith’s definitions for these cards feel very heteronormative. I’m working with the traditional definitions, but I try to make them work for a modern story.

Here are the character-card combinations I came up with:

0 – The Fool: Folly, mania, extravagance, intoxication, delirium, frenzy, bewrayment. [If the card is] Reversed: Negligence, absence, distribution, carelessness, apathy, nullity, vanity.

Joe Tazuna

Joe Tazuna is our gaudy, “extravagant” fool! The fool represents the “everyman,” and is often the “protagonist of the story” in Major Arcana. Joe, who is good-natured and clumsy, has the type of personality you’d expect to see in a story’s protagonist. Ironically, he is one of the first to die. His “absence” is deeply felt by our real protagonist, Sara, who must go on the “Fool’s Journey” “through the great mysteries of life and the main human archetypes” without him.

1 – The Magician: Skill, diplomacy, address, subtlety, pain, loss, disaster, snares of enemies; self-confidence, will; [it signifies] the Querent, if male. Reversed: Physician, mental disease, disgrace, disquiet.

Reko Yabusame

Reko is our “skilled,” “confident,” strong-willed musician magician! (And she often uses masculine pronouns, so why not give her a masculine card?) Reko has also suffered through “pain, loss, and disaster,” which has shaped her current mature, kind personality. And in the past, she was a “disgraced” rebellious rock star who burned through bands.

2 – The High Priestess: Secrets, mystery, the future as yet unrevealed; the woman who interests the Querent, if male; the Querent herself, if female; silence, tenacity; mystery, wisdom, science. Reversed: Passion, moral or physical ardor, conceit, surface knowledge.

Tia Safalin and Maple

This card made me think of both villainous ladies. Tia Safalin has knowledge of science, while Maple seems to also have mysterious wisdom about human nature and the future.

3 – The Empress: Fruitfulness, action, initiative, length of days; the unknown, clandestine; also difficulty, doubt, ignorance. Reversed: Light, truth, the unraveling of involved matters, public rejoicings; according to another reading, vacillation.

Sara Chidouin

The Empress can only be our Sara! The girl who takes “initiative” and becomes the group’s leader! She seeks to bring “light” and “truth” to discussions, and she “unravels mysteries.” And yet, she also suffers from “doubt” in herself, and “ignorance” of her surroundings.

4 – The Emperor: Stability, power, protection, realization; a great person; aid, reason, conviction also authority and will. Reversed: Benevolence, compassion, credit; also confusion to enemies, obstruction, immaturity.

Mr. Chidouin

We don’t know much about Mr. Chidouin, and I do not trust him one bit. However, he seemed to be a suitable companion to his “Empress” daughter. Kai Satou certainly thought he was “a great” and “benevolent” person, though he has an “immature” way of speaking.

5 – The Hierophant: Marriage, alliance, captivity, servitude; by another account, mercy, and goodness; inspiration; the man to whom the Querent has recourse. Reversed: Society, good understanding, concord, over kindness, weakness.

Kai Satou

The words “servitude” and “captivity” suit our homemaker Kai, who always lived in service to others—either Asu-Naro or the Chidouins. Kai is a “good” man, but he is also shown to be one of the “weakest” participants since he dies early on.

6 – The Lovers: Attraction, love, beauty, trials overcome. Reversed: Failure, foolish designs. Another account speaks of marriage frustrated and contrarieties of all kinds.

Nao Egokoro

I know that Nao’s story doesn’t have much romance in it, but I liked the duality of “trials overcome” combined with “failure” and “foolish designs” for our poor, brave Nao. She is a girl who grew a lot, and her heart was overflowing with love for her new friends, but in the end she was doomed to failure with the Sacrifice Card.

7 – The Chariot: Succour, providence; also war, triumph, presumption, vengeance, trouble. Reversed: Riot, quarrel, dispute, litigation, defeat.

Alice Yabusame

So many aggressive words in that description made me think of our “Murderer,” Alice! Alice was “triumphant” in his last fight with Original Sou, but he can be “defeated” by Rio Ranger.

8 or 11 – Justice: Equity, rightness, probity, executive; triumph of the deserving side in law. Reversed: Law in all its departments, legal complications, bigotry, bias, excessive severity.

Keiji

Of course I had to give “Justice” to everyone’s favorite self-proclaimed policeman, Keiji! Keiji lays down the law in our group, and don’t we all hope he’ll favor the “deserving side” instead of showing “excessive severity.”

9 – The Hermit: Prudence, circumspection; also and especially treason, dissimulation, roguery, corruption. Reversed: Concealment, disguise, policy fear, unreasoned caution.

Rio Ranger

“The Hermit” feels like a strange card to give to our childish doll villain, but I liked the descriptive words associated with “corruption” and “policy fear.” Rio Ranger commits “treason” by directly killing a participant, and he also “conceals and disguises” himself with masks and other people’s clothes.

10 – Wheel of Fortune: Destiny, fortune, success, elevation, luck, felicity. Reversed: Increase, abundance, superfluity.

Sue Miley

Sue Miley is the villain who introduces us to our destiny with the Practice Vote and the First Main Game. She sadistically wishes everyone “luck.”

8 or 11 – Strength: Power, energy, action, courage, magnanimity; also complete success and honours. Reversed: Despotism, abuse of power, weakness, discord, sometimes even disgrace.

Q-Taro

Q-Taro suits “strength” perfectly! His character arc is all about learning what true strength is. He begins the game from a place of cowardice and selfishness, but he becomes courageous and honorable.

12 – The Hanged Man: Wisdom, circumspection, discernment, trials, sacrifice, intuition, divination, prophecy. Reversed: Selfishness, the crowd, body politic.

Shin Tsukimi

How could my favorite doomed antagonist have any other card but “The Hanged Man”? Shin is cursed from the beginning of the game with a “prophecy” that he will die. He relies on “intuition” more often than logic and he can be very “selfish,” but he is also “wise” enough to want to protect the most vulnerable among them, leading to his “sacrifice.”

13 – Death: End, mortality, destruction, corruption; also, for a man, the loss of a benefactor; for a woman, many contrarieties; for a maid, failure of marriage projects. Reversed: Inertia, sleep, lethargy, petrifaction, somnambulism; hope destroyed.

Ranmaru Kageyama

I liked the card “death” for our main dummy Ranmaru, who has died and transformed. The words associated with “sleep” and “lethargy” also reminded me of his final moments, where he commented that death felt like going to sleep.

14 – Temperance: Economy, moderation, frugality, management, accommodation. Reversed: Things connected with churches, religions, sects, the priesthood, sometimes even the priest who will marry Querent; also disunion, unfortunate combinations, competing interests.

Kazumi Mishima

“Temperance” sounded like a good card for a wise character who lives in “moderation.” Mishima was cursed with an “unfortunate combination” of votes in the Practice Vote.

15 – The Devil: Ravage, violence, vehemence, extraordinary efforts, force, fatality; that which is predestined but is not for this reason evil. Reversed: Evil fatality, weakness, pettiness, blindness.

Original Sou Hiyori

“The Devil” is the most perfect card for my favorite villain! He is “violent” and goes to “extraordinary efforts” to manipulate the participants, but he has also suffered a “fatality.” I thought the phrase “predestined but is not for this reason evil” was especially intriguing for Original Sou, since I often wonder how much free will he could exercise within Asu-Naro.

16 – The Tower: Misery, distress, indigence, adversity, calamity, disgrace, deception, ruin. It is a card in particular of unforeseen catastrophe. Reversed: Negligence, absence, distribution, carelessness, apathy, nullity, vanity.

Gashu Satou

Gashu brings a terrible “unforeseen catastrophe” in the Second Main Game, when he would rather kill himself then give our characters a chance to escape! He is undoubtedly the best character for “The Tower.”

17 – The Star: Loss, theft, privation, abandonment; another reading says--hope bright prospects, Reversed: Arrogance, haughtiness, impotence.

Kanna Kizuchi

Kanna has suffered “loss” and she may be “abandoned” by the people she loves. However, her survival also brings “hope” and “bright prospects” in spite of the Death Game’s cruelty.

18 – The Moon: Hidden enemies, danger, calumny, darkness, terror, deception, occult forces, error. Reversed: Instability, inconstancy, silence, lesser degrees of deception and error.

The Dummies

The words related to “hidden enemies” in the “darkness” reminded me of our dummies, who are tasked with killing the human participants.

19 – The Sun: This card is generally considered positive. It is said to reflect happiness and contentment, vitality, self-confidence and success. Sometimes referred to as the best card in Tarot, it represents good things and positive outcomes to current struggles.

Gin Ibushi

Gin Ibushi is a light in our lives who brings Sara emotional comfort! In spite of having no tokens to defend himself in trades, nobody sent him the Sacrifice Card, which is a wonderful thing.

20 – Judgment: Judgement, Rebirth, Inner-calling, Absolution, Karma, Causality, Second chance

The Man from the Memorandum

The Man from the Memorandum, the winner of the Previous Death Game, seems to be the Mastermind of a new Death Game and is calling for a “second chance” for the High School Girl to survive. He pronounces judgment on every victim.

(It’s entirely possible that the Man from the Memorandum is Mr. Chidouin himself, which would make my distinguishing between them silly in hindsight! For now, I’ll assume they’re different people.)

21 – The World: Assured success, recompense, voyage, route, emigration, flight, change of place. Reversed: Inertia, fixity, stagnation, permanence.

The 17-Year-Old School Girl

Is 15.5% enough to “assure the success” of the High School Girl? Is that enough to “change her place” from dying in the First Death Game? Or will she be “permanently” dead? The entire “world” of the Death Game seems to hinge on this critical role!

[seokoloqy]

Chapter 1: Who Will Rule?

➳ PAIRING: hoseok x reader x namjoon

➳ GENRE: royal!au, interactive

➳ WORD COUNT: 6.1k

➳ WARNINGS: some blood, nothing much

➳ SUMMARY: The king’s bastard son, Hoseok versus Namjoon, the adopted crown prince. Their kingdom is in shambles struggling to figure out who deserves to become their next king. You end up stuck in the middle of their dilemma, discovering new sides to both men as they learn to accept the truth of their birthrights.

➳ A/N: HEADS UP FRIENDS!!! this is an interactive fic!!! This means at the end of each chapter will be a choice and your choices will lead the story and shape your relationship w each character! So I hope you’ll enjoy this wild ride w me

—

“Something wrong?” Yoongi peers into the moving carriage as he walks alongside it, ensuring it’s safe arrival to your destination. He wears a face of worry, hoping you’re not too stressed about the visit to your neighboring kingdom.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning your head against the cushioned seat. Your chest puffs out as you breathe in the chilly air, fingers absentmindedly twirling around each other in circles. “I’m just nervous that’s all.”

The carriage dips slightly when Yoongi stops walking alongside it and he hops onto the side step to lean in further. He rests his arms on the open window, taking a closer look at your expression. “Were you gossiping with your ladies maid again?”

You purse your lips, turning away from Yoongi with a pout and confess, “Yes.”

Often when you were getting dressed in the morning your ladies maid would do your hair and spill all the latest gossip spreading around the castle. The news of your neighboring kingdoms trouble seems to be the latest edition of gossip spreading throughout all the kingdoms.

“The bastard son or the adopted crown prince,” your ladies maid said in a foreboding, storytelling voice as she did your hair.

She spoke of the neighboring kingdom and its current king. With their king unexpectedly falling ill and no good news of his deteriorating condition, they need a king soon, even if the young crown prince, Namjoon, is still learning the ways to properly run a kingdom. 

But, your ladies maid exclaimed, leaning in closely to whisper in your ear, in a fever-induced state the king revealed his longest, darkest kept secret—the truth of his secret affair with a maid and the crown prince's true identity. 

The king had revealed to the entire court that Namjoon was not his biological son, automatically making Namjoon ineligible to rule the kingdom because he did not share the king’s blood. On top of that, the king also admitted he mistakenly had an affair with a maid who became pregnant and gave birth to a son, his first son, Hoseok. Apparently, the king didn’t divulge any more information than that before passing out.

Now you’re on your way to this broken kingdom to marry the crown prince…whoever he’ll be. This marriage alliance is the one thing that will unite your two kingdoms and now it’s on the brink of collapsing if they can’t come up with a true heir soon. 

Although the coronation and wedding have been put on hold as they sort things out, their king gets worse and worse every day. They need to choose a new ruler now and they have no idea who it will be. 

With the revelation of new blood and secret adoptions, your marriage alliance and the next ruler are uncertain. If the crown prince has been adopted there’s not a drop of royal blood that flows through his veins which makes him ineligible to rule and if they chose a Hoseok, who has never been educated on the details of running an entire kingdom, it spells doom for its people. 

You’ve met the crown prince a few times as a child. Namjoon was groomed for this role since birth, and you could see the dedication he had for the position, along with admiration for his father. 

What did it matter if he wasn’t blood? Becoming king is all he has ever known. His position is being threatened by the oldest law, only the king’s bloodline will rule, and you find it unfair for him. 

As for Hoseok, your maid didn’t tell you much because no one really knew who he was before the news. They only knew he was raised by his mother and worked at the castle as a servant his whole life with no idea of who his father was. 

How can they be choosing between Namjoon, someone who has the knowledge of running a kingdom, versus Hoseok, born out of wedlock and raised in a kitchen by the maid? 

“Maybe if the king wasn’t such a whore they wouldn’t be in this mess,” Yoongi admits candidly. “Who knows how many more illegitimate children he has running around?”

“Yoongi!” You gasp, nearly shoving him off your carriage. “Don’t say that!”

Hitting his shoulder doesn’t stop him from continuing.

“Maybe if their king owned up to his mistakes the kingdom wouldn’t be in such shambles right now. Maybe he wouldn’t be dying for his sins,” Yoongi goes on, ranting about how foolish the king had been to let this secret continue till he was on his deathbed. 

Your very opinionated and outspoken knight shakes his head in disappointment. 

“I hate to send you off knowing how unstable things are there. Your father is too stubborn and irrational sometimes,” Yoongi grumbles his thoughts aloud. 

Normally, Yoongi’s criticism of your father would never be uttered anywhere near him, but your bond with Yoongi gives him the confidence that you won’t go spilling his true feelings to your father. 

“I mean, an arranged marriage with the crown prince when they don’t even know who it’ll be yet? He must be insane to think proposing marriage right now is the best timing! What if they chose the bastard son? Then you’ll be stuck with him for the rest of your life. Who knows how many daddy issues he has?” 

Sometimes you think Yoongi acts more like a father figure towards you than your own father. He obviously cares deeply for you.

His tangent goes on for another minute as he explains all the possible negative outcomes that could happen if you were to marry the bastard son.

“Maybe he’s not that bad,” you shrug. Neither of you has met Hoseok yet. It wouldn’t be smart to make judgments and create biases.

Yoongi gives you a tired look, and asks plainly, “would you rather marry charming prince or the frog?” 

“We haven’t met him yet. Don’t be so harsh on just him.”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “don’t get me started on Namjoon. I bet he has issues too.”

You’re beginning to feel another one of his long-winded rants coming along. You settle back into your cushioned seat and prepare to relax for your long journey as Yoongi begins his detailed explanation on why both of these men would never be good enough for his princess. It’s so detailed you feel like he had this speech prepared beforehand. 

—

You arrive at the kingdom at dawn just as the yellow sun peeks over the horizon, casting everything in its golden hue. The warm smile, as dazzling as the rising sun, you’re greeted with when you ascend the long steps up to the entrance comes as a surprise. 

Namjoon stands at the entrance, dressed in his formal attire, dark hair pushed out of his forehead to reveal his stunning beauty. You almost trip up the steps, distracted by his dimpled smile.

Beside Namjoon is a knight, dressed similarly to Yoongi, but in their kingdoms fiery red colors. He stands attentively by Namjoon’s side, watching as you and Yoongi approach.

“It’s good to see you again.” Namjoon’s forced greeting comes out strained and far away. 

It’s those few words that make you realize he’s only smiling because he has to. He’s smiling because he can’t show his true feelings in front of you. It’s not hard to understand why especially knowing all that’s happened.

Namjoon even forgets his kingdom’s customary chaste kiss on the cheek because of how distracted he is. So when you lean towards him and he makes no indication to react, you awkwardly pull back to your place besides Yoongi. 

“You too,” you reply, offering a close-lipped smile. His mind is elsewhere, and you don’t blame him for his robotic actions. “How is your father doing?”

Your question slips out without much thought, bringing him back to reality. You only realize your error once a glaze forms in his eyes. 

Does he still call the king his father after finding out the truth or does it hurt too much to think about the years of lies? 

“I apologize,” you bow your head, ears burning from embarrassment, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s alright. But my father is doing fine for now. His condition hasn’t gotten better, but it isn’t deteriorating.”

Nodding, you feel the awkwardness begin to settle like thick smoke.

Yoongi interjects with his blunt statement, “the other one isn’t here. Isn’t he a prince now too? It’s rude of him to not come to greet you. No wonder they call him a bastard.”

“My apologies.” Namjoon bows his head. “I would’ve liked to introduce you to Hoseok, but he isn’t feeling very well.”

You’re almost glad Namjoon interrupted Yoongi so he wouldn’t go off on another rant. But it’s regretful to hear about Hoseok. You’re wondering when you’ll get the opportunity to meet him. Hopefully, he isn’t as dreadful as Yoongi’s vivid imagination paints him out to be.

Namjoon rises from his bow and his eyes catch something behind you. The sound of hooves and wheels squeaking tell you another carriage has arrived. You turn to see the door being opened and two men step out.

“The advisors are here, your highness,” Namjoon’s guard says. “It’s time to go.”

Namjoon lets out a helpless sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, ”thank you, Jungkook. Please, escort the princess to her room.”

Namjoon bids you a quick farewell, promising to speak with you again soon and then descends the stairs to greet the two officials. 

As Namjoon ordered, Jungkook leads you into the lavishly decorated castle with Yoongi following in flank. The castle’s grand exterior could never compare to the wonders on the inside. 

The floor is lined with white marble and gold accents covering the entire wall. Statues of gods and goddess carrying candelabras stand in the hall facing the windows and the rising sun. 

This castle is much more extravagant than the one you grew up in, even Yoongi eyes the decor in absolute amazement. 

Once you arrive at your designated room deep in the castle, so deep you wonder how you’ll ever find your way back to the entrance, Jungkook takes his leave with a silent bow and gracious smile before you can even thank him. 

“If you end up despising your husband it won’t be hard to avoid him in a palace as big as this,” Yoongi states, once Jungkook is out of hearing. He opens the door for you and the inside is just as well-decorated as the rest of the castle. 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

The more and more Yoongi speaks, you find yourself growing anxious over this whole situation. What will you do when they finally chose their king? What if you can never learn to love your husband as Yoongi imagines? Doomed to live a miserable life, avoiding your husband and wishing you could flee.

You step into the room with drooping shoulders and grim face, hidden from Yoongi. Even if he can’t see you, he can sense your distress. 

“I just…” he sighs heavily, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder to make you face him. Yoongi makes sure you’re looking him in the eyes before continuing. “Don’t want you to be let down or hurt in the end. That’s all.”

You know how much he cares and he doesn’t say this to harm you, he’s just worried. 

You reach out to pull him into a hug, clinging to him as you relieve all of your worries in his arms. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

—

It’s already past noon by the time you fully settle in. Unfortunately, you knew your time with Yoongi had to come to an end before dusk approached. He had other matters to attend to back in your own kingdom, but he entrusted your care to the knights here, threatening to return with a vengeance if you are ever harmed under their watch. 

It was a tearful farewell and watching Yoongi depart on his horse, only made you want to return to your room to wallow. Now you have no one. No one to confide in or feel at home with. But you aren’t going to let yourself get caught up in these feelings and isolate yourself.

With Namjoon busy all day in his meetings and still no sign of this mysterious first son, Hoseok, you spend your time alone wandering the castle and exploring the gardens. All the hedges have been perfectly trimmed, the grass cut and immaculate, not a weed in sight. 

Just over the hedges, you spy a group of knights sparring, armor gleaming under the sun each time they move to strike each other with their swords, clashing metal against metal. They go back and forth with one another like an intricate dance. 

Your legs unconsciously carry you towards the action. 

The knights who aren’t sparing, stand idly to the side of their made-up battleground, some bow to you as you approach. They don’t seem to mind your intrusion, much more interested in the two in the middle who continue to clash swords. 

“Good morning, your highness,” one of the knights greet. “How are you doing? I hope our prince, Namjoon, isn’t too busy, but you’ll have to forgive him. With the King’s health declining rapidly there are lots of things to be done.” 

You understand that Namjoon is busy with the revelation of his adoption and grieving over his father’s condition. It can’t be helped. However, you wish he would invite you to come along on his meetings so you can have time together. Even if you won’t be speaking much to one another, at least you’d be in his presence and learn more about him as a potential leader. You might be marrying him soon, yet you know nothing about each other. 

During your time wandering you spoke to his staff and heard them go on about how much of a gentleman and wonderful person he is, and you don’t doubt them, but you’d like to experience that kindness yourself. It might be foolish to dream, but you’d like to actually be in love with the man you might marry.

“I’ve been good, thank you. I know Namjoon has been busy but I’ve been busy exploring the castle.”

“Well, you stumbled out into the training yard just in time! Sparring is always so much fun to watch.” The knight smiles, his eyes turning into crescents. 

“Enough, enough! Are you trying to kill him, Hoseok?” 

You’re brought back to the knights sparing, between your conversation with the knight and your thoughts, one of the knights managed to get his opponent on the ground, sword to his throat and cutting just enough for blood to pool. 

You didn’t notice it before, being so absorbed in your conversation with the knight, but the man on the ground is Jungkook, the guard who you met earlier.

And they called the other one Hoseok. Could the man sparing be the king’s son? He doesn’t look sick like Namjoon claimed he was.

Jungkook grimaces, trying to shift away, but the sword follows his throat. 

“Trying to kill him?” Hoseok, standing above him, muses, pulling the sword away and driving it into the grass close to Jungkook’s head. “This was just for fun.” 

Jungkook lies still for a moment, stunned by the proximity of the blade to his face. Even you had frozen for a second when Hoseok drove the blade in the dirt, afraid he would purposefully strike Jungkook. 

Glistening with a sheen of sweat as he turns his head to face the others gathered around, Hoseok spreads his arms as if presenting himself for a challenge. 

“Who’s next? I can do this all day,” he boasts jokingly.

“I think they need you back to work in the kitchen, Hoseok,” the knight you were speaking to says, jerking his head towards the castle.

Back to work in the kitchen? If this is the Hoseok everyone is gossiping about, why is he not like Namjoon and swamped with royal duties? He’s eligible to become king, but he’s here bantering with knights and sparring. 

“Well, this was fun, boys.” 

Hoseok moves off Jungkook, offering a friendly hand to pull him up. Jungkook accepts Hoseok’s hand and stands, dusting off the dirt staining his pants after being roughly forced to the ground. 

“Jungkook, go get cleaned,” their captain commands, then he gestures toward the knight you were talking to. “Jimin, you’re next.”

“It was fun, princess,” Jimin says, hand moving to unsheathe the sword at his hip. “If you ever need an escort around the castle, feel free to find me. I’m usually out here training or in the kitchen. They make the best cookies there.”

You smile at the generous offer, “thank you, Jimin. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer soon!”

No one else is going to show you around. Namjoon surely isn’t with his busy schedule. You’d be thrilled to become friends with Jimin. 

He waves you goodbye and meets his next sparring partner on the field. You watch as they ready themselves before their captain yells for them to begin. Swords once against clash. 

Hoseok approaches you and you’re just about to wave hello, but he passes by without a second glance. Your hand awkwardly moves to fiddle with the pearls around your neck as you turn to watch him stride toward the castle. He pulls off his armor and leaves it to the side near the bushes and then enters through the service entrance.

Maybe he just didn’t see you. Though in a crowd of knights all wearing their armor and you in a simple pink dress, it would be hard not to notice. You’d like to introduce yourself anyway. You finally want to meet the man everyone has been whispering about. You want to prove Yoongi’s theory about him wrong.

You lift your skirts and begin heading toward the same door Hoseok just went through.  

“Uh, excuse me, princess!” 

You stop walking when you hear someone call out to you, the galloping of horse’s feet also grows close. When you spot the man riding on a brown horse he’s already dismounted and walking toward you, reigns in hand. He isn’t dressed up in any formal attire and smells faintly of the stables.

He bows, taking the brown cap off his head, fluffy dark hair spilling out, and clutching the hat to his chest. His hair is in disarray as he straightens himself, putting the cap back on neatly to cover it.

“Sorry to bother you, princess. I overheard that the crown prince is looking for you in his office. I just thought I’d let you know even though it’s not my official job,” he shyly chuckles, “my name is Taehyung. I’m the stable boy.”

The horse by his side neighs as if also saying hello.

“Ah,” Taehyung adds, patting the horse’s back. “and this is Yeontan.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you grin, reaching out to stroke Yeontan’s snout. “I should go see Namjoon then.”

Introducing yourself to Hoseok will just have to wait. You don’t want to keep Namjoon waiting. You wave goodbye to Taehyung and head towards the other castle entrance. 

—

Once you arrive at Namjoon’s office, after getting lost a few times and asking a maid for directions, you knock on the door twice. Inside you hear his tired, gravelly voice telling you to come in. 

As you enter, you see the office is cluttered with books and papers. Every surface is filled with official documents or texts you can hardly find a place to put your foot without stepping on anything. 

The mess almost reflects the chaos that must be going through his head. His whole future of becoming king has fallen apart right before his eyes and there’s nothing he can do about it. Also, dealing with his father’s illness, and coming to terms with the truth of being adopted must have him in a lot of stress. Work seems to be his only distraction away from it all.

The fountain pen in Namjoon’s hand spins between his fingers as his eyes concentrate on the papers laid out on his desk. He only glances at you briefly, offering you a tired smile, before going back to staring at the work in front of him. 

“I was thinking after my meeting tomorrow we could go into the town and I could show you around personally.”

“Oh, you don’t have to if you’re too busy!” 

You don’t want him to feel obligated to spend time with you. He has enough to do already. You’d just feel guilty for taking him away from any important business he has to deal with. 

“You’re a guest in my kingdom and who knows, if fate allows it, we might be married. I’d like to get to know you better.” 

 He looks into your eyes causing your pulse to begin racing. He’s just so charming you can’t help but get flustered.

“Mmh,” you blush, averting your gaze to the floor. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Perfect. I look forward to spending time with you tomorrow. I’ll see you tonight for dinner.” 

That seems to be the end of the conversation and your cue to exit as he picks his pen back up and begins marking his papers again. 

You shift your feet, averting your gaze to the floor to ceiling window which has a perfect view of the setting sun coating the garden in a wash of orange, hoping to say more. Maybe you shouldn’t bother Namjoon, but you can’t help but want to talk to him. 

“Um, may I ask what you have planned for tomorrow?” 

Namjoon hums in thought, looking back up at you and pressing the tip of his pen against his plush lips, “I think a stroll through town and a picnic would be very romantic.”

Your cheeks burn at the word romantic, a suppressed smile playing on your lips. You nod without a word, afraid if you speak your voice will give away how thrilled you are.

“Thank you. Goodbye,” you squeak, quickly curtsying and turning on your heels to exit.

You scurry out of Namjoon’s office. So giddy with excitement for what’s to come tomorrow you don’t notice the figure turning the corner carrying a tray. You two roughly collide with one another. Your shoulder knocks the silver platter out of his hands. The contents of the tray fall over and smash against the floor. Piping hot tea and shards of broken glass scattered across the immaculate marble. 

“I’m so sorry!” You apologize, crouching down to pick up the large pieces of a shattered porcelain teacup. 

The person you ran into tsks, crouching beside you to help clean up. “Damn it, watch where you’re going next time.”

 “I’m sor-” You look up and realize you’ve run into Hoseok, the king’s biological son, the man you saw sparring on the field. His dark hair is pushed out of his face, allowing you to see his downturned brows, clear frustration painting his features.

You’re just about to finally introduce yourself when you feel a sharp pain prick your finger. You yelp and drop the glass back onto the floor when you realize you’ve just cut yourself with it.

“You’re really clumsy,” Hoseok sighs, grabbing your injured hand and inspecting the cut. Your blood seeps from your finger and drips onto the floor. You wince when he envelopes your hand in his. “It’s not that bad. Come on let’s bandage it up.”

Hoseok holds your hand in his and drags you down the hall, abandoning the shards of glass for someone else to deal with.

“I’m really sorry for bumping into you.”

“Stop apologizing to me.”

“S-” You stop yourself from apologizing again by clamping your mouth shut. 

You trail behind him, staring at his back. He’s dressed in black like most of the servants, not the finely tailored suits Namjoon dresses in. 

You thought Hoseok would be similar to Namjoon, stressed about discovering the truth and his new title as the king’s illegitimate son, but he’s out training with the knights and delivering tea instead. He’s still remaining in his role as the maid’s son. 

“You’re Hoseok, right? T-The king’s son?” 

Hoseok tenses, the grip on your hand tightening. You wince from the pressure it puts on your cut. Hearing the soft cry, his hand relaxes again.

“So what?” He answers dismissively, pulling open a narrow service door.

You glance to the floor, thinking of what to say. It’s clear he doesn’t like being addressed as the king’s son. “Um, I just wanted to introduce myself to you after I saw you sparring earlier. You were really impressive.”

“Yeah, I saw you out there.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t notice me when you walked by.” He must've been busy and wanted to get back to the kitchen quickly, you think to yourself. It’s reasonable that he couldn’t stop to say hello if that was the case.

“I just didn’t care.”

“Oh…” You murmur, defeated. 

You didn’t think Hoseok would be so blunt, a little rude too. You don’t understand why he already seems to dislike you when you’ve only just met. What if Yoongi was right? 

Your pace behind him lags and he takes notice, turning around to see your frown.

“Don’t look so glum,” Hoseok says, using his free hand to pinch your cheeks up in an attempt to make you smile. “They’ll think I made you sad.”

But he did make you sad. However, you wouldn’t want the staff to see you upset. It wouldn’t make such a good first impression. 

“I’ll try not to,” you nod, attempting to put a smile on your face.

His gaze lingers on your fake smile, frowning slightly, but shakes his head free of his thoughts and pulls open the doors to the hectic kitchen. 

Inside the staff is in full swing preparing dinner for tonight. The chefs and sou chefs work in tandem, calling out to one another, but that abruptly stops when the doors shut behind you and everyone’s attention is on you—mainly Hoseok. 

Their eyes linger on him, unsure and hesitant as they wonder what to do or say. Do they bow to their new prince or casually say hello to the man they’ve worked with for years as if he were anyone else?

Tension builds as Hoseok drags you towards the back of the kitchen and they idly stand by. Hoseok ignores them, staring straight ahead without a care, similar to the way he ignored you outside. He must be used to the states by now.

“Princess! You’re here!” The familiar voice of Jimin calls to you, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You see him waving at you while leaning against a countertop covered in flour with cookie dough resting on trays. He has a stack of freshly baked ones in his hand and happily continues to munch on them. 

Life slowly returns to the kitchen in hushed whispers when Hoseok lets your hand go to search for the bandages and you approach Jimin with your hand behind your back. You don’t want him to worry if he sees your cut. 

“You found your way here and with Hoseok too. I’m surprised you've managed to warm up to him already.”

“Warm up? I don’t think he likes me very much,” you sigh, glancing back at Hoseok who’s crouched down and rummaging through a cabinet. 

Jimin takes another bite out of his cookie, offering you some from the stack in his hand. You excitedly accept one and take a bite, savoring the chewiness and sweet taste of the chocolate.

“Oh, he’s always that way with royals. He’ll come around once he gets to know you. But he’s been even more on edge ever since the king's confession. Truthfully, we’re all a little confused about what’s happening or what to do.” Jimin looks toward Hoseok, an empathetic look on his face. “Hoseok says he’s fine and he doesn’t want the truth to change anything.”

You both look at Hoseok still looking through the cabinet, an annoyed look on his face as he struggles to find what he’s looking for. A staff member comes to his aid, but he shoos them off. He continues to rummage until he reaches his arm far back to grab the box.

Hoseok begins walking towards you both while searching the contents for what he needs.

It’s obvious that many of the staff are having difficulties adjusting to Hoseok’s new title from the silence that drowned the room when he walked in. It must be hard to continue his life normally, you can understand why he seems to be frustrated.

“Is that why he���s still serving tea?”

Jimin nods, solemnly. “Since he’s a royal now, we do as he says and if he wants to continue serving tea or sparring with us we let him.”

“Does that also mean you let me win sparring matches on purpose?” Hoseok muses, moving beside you, carrying the bandages for your cut.

“You won sparring matches before everyone knew you were a prince,” Jimin mutters sourly, turning his head away with a pout. 

Hoseok’s smile turns from playful to a cold empty expression at the mention of prince, but says nothing, letting the commotion of the kitchen drown out the conversation. He turns to you, taking your hand without asking and begins cleaning up your wound with a wet cloth. 

“Are you alright, princess?!” Jimin gasps when he sees your injured hand, brows knitted together with worry. “How did that happen?”

You smile to reassure him. “Just a little accident. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“It’s my job as a knight to worry about your wellbeing, princess,” Jimin says, continuing to wear a face of concern, watching Hoseok work.

Jimin reminds you of Yoongi. Always worrying about the smallest things. It’s comforting to have someone familiar around and you’re glad you met Jimin today. 

Hoseok’s hand gently wipes around the cut, cleaning off any blood left. As curt as he is speaking to you, he’s gentle with your injury.

You watch his tense expression as he works. You’re wondering what he’s thinking. After your short talk with Jimin, you wonder how he really feels about his true birthright? Is he really fine like he’d like to convince everyone? 

You’d certainly feel betrayed by the king for keeping a secret of such magnitude. How does he look Namjoon in the eye knowing everything Namjoon has should’ve been his?

Someone bursts through the doors right then, calling out, “Incoming, Hoseok! It’s the advisors again!” 

You recognize the voice as Taehyung, but before you can check to see if you’re right, Hoseok grabs your wrist.

“You’re gonna have to run, princess.”

“Huh?”

Hoseok gathers all your first aid in one hand and with the other wrapped tightly around your wrist drags you out of the kitchen through the service hall just as two officials, the pair from this morning, come through the other door from the dining room.

One of them desperately pleads, “your highness, please stop avoiding this! Someone catch him!” 

You lift up your skirts and try to keep up with Hoseok as he dashes down the hall with you in tow, pushing open unfamiliar door after door to escape the royal officials hunting him down. 

They must be the same advisors that held a meeting with Namjoon earlier today. 

Even when your steps falter his grip on you never wavers, occasionally turning his head to check that you’re able to keep up.

As you both turn a corner, you spot Namjoon emerging from a room, books stacked in his arms and the other hand holding a porcelain teacup. Your rapidly approaching footsteps alert him and he looks up over the rims of his dark-framed glasses, surprised to see you hand in hand with Hoseok dashing through the halls. 

You manage to catch his eye, offering a small weary smile as you go by.

He stands stunned, unable to say much but utter your title under his breath in confusion, and watches you pass by in a flurry with your pink skirt breezing behind you. 

You’d like to stop and greet him properly, but with Hoseok adamant to flee with you in tow, you doubt he’d like to stop and chat with Namjoon.

With your eyes focused behind you on Namjoon, you lose your balance in your heels, making you stumble out of them. You try your best to slip them back on quickly, but Hoseok’s sharp command for you to hurry forces you to leave them behind. You glance back seeing your white shoes lying on the ground with Namjoon standing just a few feet away still lost in his confusion. 

“H-Hoseok, can we stop running?!” You let out an exasperated breath. You’ve already lost a pair of shoes and you’re sure the officials have stopped chasing him.

He pushes open one last door, swinging you into the room and shutting the door behind him. He presses his forehead against the door, breathing heavily. 

You’re out of breath but as you observe the room, with its large glass ceiling, revealing the glittering night sky and crescent moon, you look up in awe almost forgetting to breathe. It’s difficult to look away from the sight of a thousand stars in the sky all twinkling brightly. You almost want to reach out and touch them.

“Wow,” you sigh, marveling at the night sky.

Hoseok ignores your wonder, muttering curses about the officials under his breath. 

“Sit down over here. I’ll finish putting on your bandages.” 

Hoseok moves toward the couch. You sit beside him offering your hand and he begins cleaning your wound again. The focused expression returns as he begins to apply healing cream on your cut.

Your cheeks begin to burn in the silence. Nothing but the ticking pendulum clock fills the room.

“You really didn’t have to help me. I could’ve done it myself.”

“Knights never abandon anyone who’s injured and neither will I,” he responds automatically, his eyes unwavering from his task. 

Although you know he’s just a servant, Hoseok seems to spend most of his time with the knights. He seemed close with Jimin and really enjoyed sparing with the knights. He looked so proud just being around them and wearing their uniform. You begin to wonder if he has any desire to become one himself. He has the skill and the heart for it. 

But now that he’s considered a royal they’d never allow him to put himself in harm's way and become a knight, and they certainly wouldn’t be okay with him continuing to be a servant. That must be what those court advisors were chasing him about. 

“Are you okay with all of this?”

You ask because you’re curious about his thoughts on possibly becoming king, but you also ask because you’re worried about the facade he might be putting on in front of others. Jimin told you that Hoseok tells everyone he’s fine but is he really? Does he accept the truth of his royal blood so easily? 

Hoseok looks into your eyes and grimaces. He releases your hand and stands up abruptly, gazing at the floor.

“I don’t need your pity,” Hoseok murmurs. “Don’t be so kind to me just because I’m suddenly the king’s son. If I were nothing more than a servant, you wouldn’t even look in my direction.”

“That’s not true,” you object. You aren’t as shallow as he thinks you are. You aren’t pretending to care about his feelings just because of his status. He’s just as human like you with feelings and you’d like to be someone he can trust and confide in. Bottling up his feelings would only make things worse.

“Just forget it,” he brushes it off, turning away once again. “I’m nothing to you, okay?”

“Hoseok…”

You can feel something in you nearly break from his soft-spoken whisper. He isn’t nothing. You want to find a way to convince him otherwise.

The door opens cutting the moment short, revealing the two court officials from earlier and surprisingly, Namjoon standing beside them as well. In his hands are the shoes you had left behind in your haste.

Hoseok scans the three standing in the doorway. Finally, his eyes settle and narrow on Namjoon.

“Your highness, please let us speak to you,” one of the officials beg.

“Don’t call me that,” Hoseok groans, then points his finger at Namjoon who looks to the floor. Namjoon refuses to make eye contact as Hoseok lets out his frustrations. “Why don’t you speak to him? He’s the crown prince. He’s the one the king chose to rule.”

“It’s not that simple anymore, your highness, you know that,” the second official speaks up in a more serious tone. “And if you continue to run, we won’t hesitate to call the knights to restrain you.”

Hoseok, visibly angered by the officials’ threat, lowers his hand, clenching it into a fist. He looks as if he wants to retort, scream at them to leave him alone. Instead, he stays silent and stares off to the side, neither refusing or agreeing to go with them.

Namjoon looks toward you, politely offering his hand, “Why don’t we go somewhere else and let them have their discussion in private?” 

You look between Namjoon’s outstretched hand and Hoseok’s furious expression, conflicted on what you should do. 

CHOICE: stay with Hoseok or go with Namjoon

—

PLEASE DON’T FORGET TO CHOOSE HERE!

REMINDER: your choices may affect your relationship with the characters. Please vote wisely :)

[m0r1bund]

The river ghosts.

Foreword: This is part of an ongoing series of updates, and requires some context. If you're wondering why Ghost River went dark for half a year, you should start here first.

Some bittersweet news on Ghost River.

The hard stuff, first:

I've spent my summer emailing around, trying to get in touch with a co-conspirator / consultant to hammer out Ghost River's issues with. I eventually heard back from two individuals, both with professional backgrounds in Yavapai history and culture, and members of one of the nations themselves. They let me know that ghosts aren't to be made light of in a Yavapai context. Knowing this now, I have decided to take Ghost River offline.

I'll try to explain my reasoning.

While I was trying to remediate GR's original issues-- Kith and Val's pseudo-fridging-- I realized that I wasn't comfortable making their identities interchangeable with any other people or nation. I felt strongly that a story about the Agua Fria should be told from the perspective of one of its first peoples, and that any other way would be a disservice. K +V were written as Yavapai in my script from very early on, and I disliked the notion that any other nation could be swapped in or out to make them more “appropriate.” In the same vein, there is no other place this story can be told than on the Agua Fria river.

This, coupled with the knowledge that Ghost River was built on a faulty premise-- an Extremely Goofy webcomic about ghosts-- confirmed in my mind that it was out of my hands to tell.

I would apologize and say that I dislike taking the comic down without warning, but I think I need to make a much different apology. I made a fundamental error before I even drew the first page, which could have been fixed had I done my due diligence. I don't feel comfortable leaving the story up (even with disclaimers) knowing that it's a misrepresentation and faulty interaction with Yavapai culture. I think it's important that this is taken seriously, and I'm deeply sorry for my oversight.

If there's one thing I could hope for, it's that this serves as a teachable moment for others. I'd consider myself to be pretty darn familiar with things like the baleful polymorph trope, as well as taking care around restricted entities that should only be depicted in certain ways (if at all.) But you really cannot overestimate your dead spots when writing. I made assumptions from a culturally ~white background about how ghosts might be handled (which ultimately held no water), and compartmentalized “weird dog ghost” away from “this is basically the worst cross between fridging and getting transformed into an animal.” I couldn't see how fundamentally flawed the story was until it was staring me in the face, and I'm kicking myself in the shins for making such a rookie mistake. Two years late is a pretty bad time to start asking questions that should have been settled in draft one!

So-- If you're a writer or an artist, I hope you catch these things early. Better yet, I hope you've got the wherewithal to reach out to folks that can help you see things that you can't. And hey, if not? Better late than never to ask the hard questions. I promise it can only result in something greater.

With all that said...

The sweet stuff:

The folks I spoke with offered me these bits of advice free of charge-- a kindness I really can't articulate, because now I've got 600$ of what were previously consulting funds to donate, and I think that's pretty fucking cool. Most of them will go to the Yavapai Indian Foundation. A portion will also go to a LGBT+ advocacy group of some kind, because the bulk of these funds were raised via my Pride banner work. I will need to sit and think on who that might be, though. I will report back here when those contributions have been made.

Also? This whole process taught me a lot about storytelling, consulting, and sending some incredibly weird emails. One of my happiest takeaways is learning that... Hey, I had the commitment for this, and I really do enjoy making comics. I hope I can find a new story that I'm equally passionate about bringing to y'all.

8/28/20 Donations:

The donations have been made out : -) the final breakdown:

$94.34* to the Russian LGBT Network $125 to Lambda Legal $375 to the Yavapai Indian Foundation

*(due to a conversion error, the remaining $25 got rolled over onto the donation to the Yavapai Indian Foundation.)

Etc.:

I wish I could give some sort of grand closure to all of this, but, such is the nature of things sometimes. What will happen with Kith, Val, and Dia? I haven't the slightest. Dia, at least, will be sticking around-- she's my little friend-- but her story was heavily hinged on GR. Much will have to change. As for K + V... Well, it's inevitable I write lesbian schlock about scientists again. If not in name, I'm sure their essence will live on somewhere in my work.

Thank you, and thank you again for your kindness through this all. This one was a pretty huge bungle, but I hope to stick the landing next time around. Words can't articulate how grateful I am to have shared this experience with all of you. I hope it's been an ounce as instructive and inspired some, small kernel of love for the human and nonhuman communities of the Sonoran desert.

Here is a song that I often daydreamed about sharing at the end of the comic. Now that we're here, I guess I can do that now : -)

Nervous ft. Tim Bonvallet by Wolfgun

Dreamed I was in a desert without any luck Storm gray clouds hovering above Silence all around me, I was wandering alone And I realized there is nothing anyone can really own

- 1ore

[kayteewritessteve]

Love and War - 13/16

Description: In a harsh medieval world, you set out on a perilous quest that will lead you onto a forbidden land. A land ruled and controlled by a ruthless Warlord King, one who does not look favourably upon trespassers of any kind, and punishes all with an iron fist. You may not know exactly where this quest will end, but what you do know is you will forever be altered by it. And that knowledge alone is what truly terrifies you the most.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,190 ish.

Pairing: Medieval!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG for now. May become 18+ later.

Warnings: Violence. Curse words. Mentions of fears and potentially brutal medieval tactics. Most likely more to come down the road. Please don’t let these warnings scare you too much, give the story a try before you judge it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader either, so I do proudly own all these errors and this story, so there’s that.

“And where exactly do you three think you’re going?”

You gulp as your eyes shift slowly between your siblings before finally flicking back over, landing on the fierce redhead now standing mere feet away from you. Promptly noticing that she’s raised a questioning brow in your direction, probably thanks to your complete and utter silence in this moment.

You sigh defeatedly, knowing there is no way you’ll be able to talk her into looking the other way. She is far too loyal to the King to willing let you waltz out of here without his permission. And you know once the King learns of your little escape plan, regardless of your reasonings, he will most likely be hurt and angered by this.

You’ll be lucky if he even believes your crazy reason for sneaking away in the middle of the night. Going to check out the cave in which you were trapped, fully asleep, and then freed by two strangers now known as your siblings? Yeah, that sounds insane, at best.

You barely even believe it’s real, and you actually trust your siblings. But the King? He has no reason to trust them, nor their words, so why would be even give the farfetched sounding explanation a second thought.

No, you can bet he’d just think you were lying, that you were trying to escape him for good, and just happened to get caught before you could.

“Hmm?” Natasha hums, prompting you to answer her original question as she crosses her arms over her chest.

You give her a pleading look, “I can explain, but you have to hear me out entirely.”

She nods informing you to go on, but doesn’t actually utter a word.

You glance at your siblings, who are just standing silently beside you then take a deep breath and focus your eyes back on Natasha. “So there is a volcano just outside of Triskelion, with a hidden cave located below it.”

“Okay,” Natasha says slowly, her expression neutral and unreadable.

“Oh Gods,” you groan quietly to yourself, shaking your head. She is not going to believe a single word of what you’re about to tell her. You just know it. “Okay, so almost 2 years ago now, Wanda and Pietro were camping near the base of this volcano. Long story short, they witnessed two men—one of which was Sir Brock, entering this hidden cave at the base. So when both men finally left, they went to investigate and found me, asleep in a glass box. They took me away from the cave and spent the next 10 months trying to wake me up. Then a year ago, they finally did.” You shake your head, your words even sounding ridiculous to you in this moment, “I never knew any of this till earlier today. So I wanted to see the cave for myself, I wanted to see it first hand. Maybe,” you falter glancing down, “maybe it will help retrieve my memories. Maybe it will help me figure out who I really am. Where I truly belong,” you whisper the last part.

“Is this true?” She asks, and even though you are intently staring at the ground, you know she isn’t asking you.

“It is,” Wanda and Pietro say in unison.

“And this volcano, it’s located near Triskelion?”

“Yes,” Pietro answers.

A moment goes by in sheer silence, you side eye Wanda questioningly and she only shrugs, unsure. Then you glance up to see Natasha with that far away look and you instantly know she is mind linking someone. As for who, you obviously can’t be sure. But you’re willing to bet it’s most likely the King.

She snaps out of it a moment later, but says nothing. Her face once again unreadable, like usual.

And now you’re panicking, your heart rate picking up as your hands become clammy. You really need her to understand just how important this is to you. You need her to let you do this, you have to do this. “You see, I know I didn’t receive proper permission to leave,” you start, catching her attention as you lock pleading eyes with her once again. “But I only plan to be gone for 2 days, at most. I will come back, I just have to do this. I need to see it for myself. I can’t live not knowing who I am or where I’m from. Please just,” you sigh, “please just try to understand. I will have Wanda and Pietro with me the entire time, we will just go look at the cave then come right back. I promise.”

Natasha finally speaks, though you instantly wish she hadn’t. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Truly I am, but I can’t allow the 3 of you to leave like this. It isn’t safe for you to venture from the castle without guards, nor to leave the territory at all. The King would be furious if I allowed you to walk away now. If I just turned a blind eye.”

Quiet footsteps begin to echo softly around you, the sound bouncing off the walls. You glance behind you, over your shoulder in the direction they are coming from and see Sam. You furrow your brows and turn back to look at Natasha, who now has a smirk on her lips.

As Sam comes closer you sigh and turn to face him, you have a few things you need to say to him. Preferably sooner rather than later, the guilt of the last interaction you both had, now weighing heavily on your shoulders.

He comes to rest beside Natasha, the silence in the dark hallway is suffocating. He gives you a small hesitant smile, that also looks a little like a frown.

“Sam, I,” you trail off, not even sure what to say to him. A simple apology just won’t suffice here.

“I know,” he steps forward and wraps you in a big bear hug. You tense up for a second, unsure what to do as this action has caught you completely off guard. But then you hug him back, and after a moment you both release from the embrace and each take a step back.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” you sigh deeply. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should have trusted you more. I just,” you shake your head, “I didn’t know what to believe, I was so angry and hurt, and, and confused. I felt like I had been deceived, like I had been betrayed. And I just sort of snapped.” You glance down, “it wasn’t right of me to take that out on you. You weren’t the one who I was angry at, I just was so blinded by my rage that I couldn’t stop myself from lashing out at anyone who stood in my way. So,” you look back up and lock eyes with him, “I apologize to you, Sam. I’m truly sorry for my outburst. Can you—can you ever forgive me?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “There is nothing to forgive, Y/N. Look, I get it. If I had been in your place, I may have acted the same way towards you. There was so much you still didn’t know, so many things we all wanted to tell you but just couldn’t. The King had a plan, he had it all worked out in his head,” the corners of his lips droop a little, creating a small frown. “He wanted to be the one to tell you everything, when he knew more, but that snake beat him to it.”

You nod, “I know now that Brock’s words weren’t entirely true. And I heard the Kings side of all of this.” You glance at your siblings beside you, they have both stayed completely silent through this all. “Wanda and Pietro informed me of where they actually found me. And I need to see it, Sam,” you turn back to him, a pleading look in your eyes again. “I can’t go on not knowing who I am.”

He nods, glancing at Natasha, who smirks back at him and then he turns back to you, “alright. Then I guess we should get going before anyone realizes we are gone.”

Your eyes widen at his words, “wha—what do you mean?” You whisper, glad he has Lycan hearing as he might not have heard your words otherwise.

He scoffs, “like we’d let you guys go alone. The King would have our heads if he knew.” But then he chuckles, “and you know how I feel about keeping my head.”

You grin at his words, as you look between the two large Lycans, “so you’re both coming with us then?”

“Yes,” Natasha nods, smirking at you, “I could use an adventure, things have been rather boring here as of late.”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff playfully, getting chuckles out of the two Generals. “This week has been the craziest one of my life so far.” You shake your head, “well, at least out of the parts I can actually remember—“

You are cut off by the sounds of footsteps down near the end of the hall, Natasha and Sam instantly begin ushering the 3 of you towards the, still open, hidden door.

“Time to go,” Natasha whispers quickly, “we might be okay with this plan, but not everyone will see it our way.”

You nod and then the 5 of you promptly head into the tunnels. Sam pulling the wall panel back into place once you are all in, as the soft sound of the locking mechanism clicking into place is heard in the silent space. Then you all slowly begin to make your way through the dark tunnels, glad to have the two Generals with you in this moment, as they both know the way to the iron doors. Saving you the possibility of getting all of you lost along the way.

You find yourself trudging through the dark forest at a reasonable pace. Pietro, Wanda and Sam deep in conversation, as Natasha and yourself stay silent. Walking slightly ahead of the three others, Natasha appears to be extra vigilant, intently listening to your surroundings, possibly trying to hear for anyone nearby. You assume it’s so she can locate them and help you all avoid them, long before they even know you 5 were near.

When you all had reached the iron doors, still inside the tunnels, Sam and Natasha had attempted to brainstorm a way to get by the guards unnoticed. But before they could give that anymore thought, Wanda did the same thing she had the first time. Closed her eyes, focused her mind and a moment later she began to push the doors open, you and Pietro helping as you both knew the drill.

Sam and Natasha had instantly tried to stop you all, but quickly noticed the guards were now in fact gone. No longer standing at their posts by the doors. They both looked slightly taken aback by this development, but said nothing. And once you all had exited the tunnels, shut the doors behind you again, and then ventured into the woods, Sam spoke up.

He’d asked what happened back there, and you just smirked and pointed to Wanda. The latter giggling quietly before she finally explained how she’d done it both times. She’d used her powers to move a few rocks and debris nearby, just enough to catch the guards attention. One would head off to investigate, and once she had led them out of eye shot, she’d move more things in the other direction. Effectively catching the second guards attention and after a moment, he’d also leave to check out the noise. And once they were both out of eye shot, you’d all make your escape.

It was genius really, no one was harmed, but you all got the outcome you needed. And once again, you are slightly jealous of all the amazing things Wanda can do. Whilst instantly reminded how mediocre you truly are. But you are also fully aware just how blessed you truly are to have Wanda by your side. Her and her powers, if it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d still be very much asleep in a cave.

You glance over your shoulder when you hear the quiet laughs of the 3 people you care the most about. Well, 2 you did, though Sam was slowly rising in the ranks of your heart, Natasha as well if you’re being honest. You turn your head to look at the aforementioned and a question burns in your mind.

You can’t decide if you should ask or not, but your curiosity is slowly winning out. However before you can even open your mouth she speaks, “just ask.”

“I’m sorry?” You frown, slightly confused.

“I can hear the wheels in your head turning,” she grins, glancing at you momentarily before focusing on the darkness ahead of you again. “If you want to ask me something, feel free.”

Your steps falter for a moment, but you quickly correct them, keeping up with her long strides. “Can you actually hear me thinking?” You whisper, before even giving it a second thought. It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask originally, but you’re still learning about what Lycans can and can’t do. And the King had said almost the exact same thing to you once before, so maybe they actually can hear your thinking.

She laughs softly, “no, I can’t actually hear it. But I can smell your curiosity. That emotion gives off a very distinct aroma.”

You furrow your brows, “what? You can smell my curiosity? How is that—what does it,” you trail off. Unsure what you’re even asking at the moment. How can they smell that?

“All emotions give off a different smell. They aren’t bad smells, they are just your normal scent heightened in different ways.” She shrugs, “just depends on what emotion you are feeling. And our ability to read the differences.”

“So not all Lycans can smell the changes?”

She shakes her head, “no, it takes years of practise. But comes in handy during interrogations, so most of us,” she pauses for a second then continues, “Generals, have been trained to distinguish the differences. We can also tell when someone is lying, their heart rate picks up and our eyes can notice even the smallest of changes in their demeanour and perspiration.”

You nod slowly, “wow. I had no idea. But yet, now some of the things the King has said to me, make far more sense.”

She laughs softly again, “yes, he is the best, out of all of us, at reading people. Mainly because he’s had extensive training and years of honing the skill and perfecting it. But also because he’s an Alpha, that title heightens his senses immensely.” She glances quickly at you, “he’s actually the one who taught most of us how to properly do it.”

“His title heightens his sense?”

“Yes,” she nods. “When a Lycan fully takes on an Alpha title, it’s like a child becoming an adult overnight. The title causes both them and their wolf to grow larger, stronger, faster, smarter. It’s so they can protect their pack, their people. It helps an Alpha maintain control, and distinguishes them from others. It’s how they can defend their title, their land, and continue to remain in power. Their title demands respect and loyalty, it gives them the power of Will.”

You nod, you knew all about Will but didn’t want to mention that currently. You’d promised Sam to keep your knowledge of that to yourself.

“I’m aware you know about Will,” she smirks at you. “Just between us girls, after your little talk with the King, he called us all into his office and requested he be informed on everything you had been told so far.” She snickers, “Sam obviously had the most to confess to. The King wasn’t too pleased that he’d continued to fill you in, even after he’d been told not to, but it was too late to change that now.”

“Oh no,” you frown, “please tell me he didn’t get into trouble again?”

Natasha shakes her head, “no, the King has always had a soft spot for Sam. He could never actually be mad at him. But Sam did get a light scolding for it, though he didn’t seem all that phased by it after.” She chuckles, “Sam plays innocent, but he knows exactly what he can and can’t get away with. And he happily treads that line as close as he possibly can, though he never actually crosses it. He’s a smart shit,” she laughs quietly.

You giggle, “that sounds like Sam.”

She nods, but then you both fall into a silence again. Though it doesn’t last long, “I know that wasn’t what you’d originally wanted to ask.”

You almost smack your hand to your forehead, having completely forgotten about your original question. “You’re right, it wasn’t. I’d completely forgotten. Basically I just wanted to ask why,” you clear your throat, “why you chose to help me. I mean, you could have told the King of my plans to escape, but you didn’t. And now here we are. I just,” you shake your head, “I just don���t understand why you’re helping me. Isn’t going behind your Alpha’s back unacceptable and punishable in some sort of way?”

She hums in conformation, “it is. But he’d be more angry if Sam and I didn’t join you. If we had sent you back to your rooms, you would have just attempted this again another night, yes?” She glances at you with a quirked brow.

You sigh, nodding your head as you climb over a fallen tree. “Yeah, you have a point.”

She shrugs, “so I just figured it would be a smarter idea to just accompany you guys this time. That way you can get this out of your head and move on from it.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly, honestly so thankful she is here, helping you accomplish this.

She just nods and then another silence falls over you both like a blanket. It’s a peaceful quiet though, just hearing the crickets, owls and night time creatures going about their lives around you. The moon is slowly rising, casting a little light on the dark forest floor. You glance around, taking in how truly beautiful this realm is, even in the darkness of night.

“But I’m also here because I’m rather fond of you, and I have this strange urge to help you,” she pipes up quietly, breaking the silence again. “It’s this need to make sure you are happy and feel at home here. And to make sure you have everything you need to do that.”

You snap your head to her, her words catching you completely off guard, “really?”

She chuckles, probably at your shocked voice and wide eyes, “yes, really. I can’t explain it, I know I may not come off as the friendliest person, and usually I’m not. But for some reason I have always had this need to protect you, to make sure you are safe—” She halts both her words and her steps, as her eyes snap forward. She takes a gentle hold of your arm to stop your movements as well, then glances back at the others over her shoulder.

You turn to look back, seeing Sam also on high alert now, while holding your siblings at a stand still. The feeling of being turned around, forcefully yet gently, brings your attention back to Natasha. She locks eyes with you, raising her index finger up in front of her lips as she nods her head towards Sam. You get the message, loud and clear, nodding your head to her then slowly and quietly making your way towards the 3 others.

Once you reach Sam, you turn back to see Natasha is now gone. You hadn’t even heard her leave, she was always like a ghost. You’d never know she was there until she let you know. And the same was clear for your departures, obviously.

The 4 of you stand there in utter silence, Sam having released your siblings arms now. So the 4 of you just quietly watched, waiting for any noise or movement to indicate that Natasha had returned.

And after a few moments, you see her reemerge from the darkness. She looks to someone behind you, you assume Sam, and then she nods. Sam’s light chuckle behind you causes you to realize whatever just happened, was now done. You could all talk again, whatever threat they had noticed had now been handled.

And then you all continue on, picking up where your conversations had left off and heading towards the border to the Kings land, towards Triskelion, and towards the cave that once imprisoned you for Gods knows how long.

You finally arrive at the base of the volcano, the trek here was gruelling at best. Your legs feel as if they are no longer attached to your body, as if you’d left them back in the woods somewhere along the way, and were now just dragging your body limply along the ground.

The walk had been smooth after that near run in with the two Royal Guardsmen. Natasha had informed you that’s what she’d vanished to deal with. They were close to stumbling upon the 5 of you, but being that she is the third in command, she was able to make up an excuse as to why she was out there and send them off in a completely different direction.

You’d all reached the border still hidden under the blanket of night. Which made crossing it surprisingly simple, that and also Wanda and Pietro had been right, the way they’d taken the first time was not guarded at all. And was very much hidden away from view. Sam had made a comment about it, saying, ‘this really needs to be addressed. It shouldn’t be this easy to escape.’ And Natasha had agreed with him, saying she’d talk to Thor about it when you all returned to the castle.

The walk had taken much longer than you’d expected though, as the Generals both thought it best to completely avoid Triskelion. So you had to walk around the entire village, instead of through it like you’d originally planned. Keeping yourselves in the shadows of the outlying forest which surrounded the small town.

You’d all stopped a few times here and there, to rest and eat. But none of you had slept a wink, you aren’t sure why no one else was able to sleep, but you knew you weren’t because you were too nervous, your mind was running in circles about all of this. It couldn’t shut off, you were just too anxious about what laid ahead of you. What you were going to see once you reached the cave, what you were going to remember when you did.

So now you've all finally reached the volcano's base, and it was a little after mid day. Or at least that’s what the others claimed, obviously you still hadn’t learned to Sun Track yet. And you probably never would to be honest.

Pietro point towards the hidden cave entrance, and Natasha told you all to stay put while she checked it out. She wanted to make sure it was safe before any of you entered, so she slipped in between the small opening and a few moments later she reemerged.

Then it was finally time for you all to enter, Natasha went first, followed by Pietro and Wanda, then you and Sam last. You all walked through the dark tunnels for a while, until the tunnel abruptly opened up and you found yourself in a small room, of sorts. It was a cave, but almost looked like it had been chiseled out from the rock. Like it had been built to be a tiny room, a small holding cell. You instantly almost gasp when the realization hits you, no, it had been built to be crypt. Your crypt. The final resting place for you. Or at least that’s what your captors had probably thought.

Your eyes drift around the room slowly and then land on a glass box in the middle. No, a glass coffin, and instantly you froze. It was true, oh Gods, it was true. Yes, you believed Wanda and Pietro, of course you did. But that little voice in the back of your head still doubted this whole thing, still doubted that you’d actually find this place. That it actually existed.

So seeing first hand the glass tomb from which you’d been trapped in, for Gods knows how long, was both eye opening and nerve wracking. Why were you here? Who brought you here, who trapped you here? How did you get here?

You take hesitant steps towards the glass coffin, the 4 others not moving a muscle, not making a sound. They are all just allowing you to experience this moment in utter silence.

You finally reach the edge of the glass coffin, and cautiously reach a hand out to touch it, to feel it, to truly be sure it’s real and not just a figment of your imagination.

Your fingertips hesitantly make contact with its edge, gently grazing the surface of the glass top and your breath hitches, a sharp intake of air directly after that.

It’s real. It’s all real.

But before you can put anyone thought into this moment, into this realization, a darkness rapidly consumes your vision and instantly, your whole world goes black.

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

@caps-lockdown @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @saturngirlz @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @sister-of-stars @pinkleopardss

[fertileimaginationvault]

Martha’s Day - Superbat DCEU series

Hello my fellow Superbat shippers! I hope you’re all doing alright.

 It's my first attempt at writing something about Superbat and I sincerely hope to be doing it right  and that you like it, of course.

I have plans to do a series of Superbat fanfictions, and this is the first post (I don’t know how many I’ll post, it will depend on the ideas that pop up in my head). I just want to warn you that the order of events is going to be a bit off (again, it's my head's fault that I have ideas out of the right order). I'll be happy to clear up any questions you may have about it. But first, let me establish a few things:

The "chapter” that I am posting today obviously happens on Mother's Day, almost two years after the events of the Justice League (2017).

Clark and Bruce have finally become friends, but they hide their true feelings for each other because they are afraid of ruining their friendship (it reads: because they are dumb).

I really like the idea of ​​the Wayne Mansion being rebuilt to become the Justice League headquarters, so I incorporated it into the story. Which means the league members will also appear.

What I wanted to see most about DCEU is the bat-kids, and they'll appear more on future posts because I love seeing Bruce being a dad, and I'd love to see them interacting with Clark.

I’ll give you more details about their relationship and what happened after the Justice League in the next post but I have not finished editing yet (the chapter is still too long and I'm still thinking whether to divide it into two parts or not).

I would like to apologize in advance for possible errors. English is not my first language.

I would also like to thank the kind people who encouraged me to post this. I've loved these characters since I was a child, and I was really excited about writing something about them, even though it’s fanfiction. And although today’s post is a litle sad, I hope you guys like it.

This “chapter” is dedicated to all who have lost their mothers and have a hard time during Mother’s Day and every day that their absence is felt the most (myself included). i’m sending my love to you all.

_________________________________________________________

It didn’t matter how many times Bruce had walked the path between the Manor and the Wayne family mausoleum, it always felt as if he was dragging chains along with him. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, it still felt the same, the pain piercing through his soul and the darkness clutching it. He stared at his parents’ crypts in silence holding the bouquet of white roses strong enough to feel the thorns entering his fingers and palm, through the wrapping paper around it, but he didn’t care. That was nothing compared to what Bruce went through for the last twenty years. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds and opening them again, still unease. He thinks if he should say something as he used to do when he was younger, when he still dared to ask if his parents would be proud of him, of what he was doing in their memory.

Bruce didn’t know anymore, neither if they would or if he has even the right to ask. Specially on this particular day... He wondered if he could cry even after all this time, but the tears were stuck somewhere inside of him just like the rest of his emotions and everything else that resembled the faintest evidence of weakness. He stayed there, silent, holding the bouquet of white roses, still thinking if he should put them in the vase hanging on the marble wall beside his mother’s crypt or not.

He couldn’t say how long he had stayed there, and again, he didn’t care. He doesn’t even flinch either when realizes he’s not alone. Someone was outside. Bruce could see them through the crack of one of the heavy iron doors of the mausoleum that was ajar, conflicting about getting in or just staying in the private graveyard outside.

“You can come in, Clark” he managed to say, his voice sounding hoarse but not as annoyed as he liked to be. That always happened when Clark was around, he could never truly push him away.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t want to disturb you” Clark walked in, voice low, taking each step carefully, almost ritualistic as if his existence in that place was disrespectful by itself. He stopped beside Bruce.

“I thought you were in Smallville for the day.” Bruce didn’t care to look at him, his dark eyes still lingering on his mother’s name printed in bronze on the marble surface of her crypt.

“I was,” Clark answered, looking at Bruce, examining his friend dressed in a three piece suit as if he was ready for a board meeting or a dinner at The Plaza. Clark knew the reason for Bruce being so well dressed and the knowledge of it made his heart clench, “I spent the day with Ma, actually. I just came back to the Manor.”

Bruce glanced around, realizing the deeming of the sunlight inside the mausoleum. The sun was setting behind the trees and the figure of Saint Michael in the stained glass could hardly be seen, finally giving him notion of time.

“Bruce,” Clark started, also struck by realization, “how long have you been here?”

“I don’t know... A few hours, maybe...” Bruce let it out in whisper, even though knowing Clark would hear, “I just woke up and came here to…”

Clark waited for Bruce to finish his sentence but he never did. He just stayed there beside the other man, making company to his silence. He knew how hard that was to Bruce, specially considering what day it was. Clark knew how that felt, how certain dates could be more difficult to “celebrate” than the others. Birthdays, holidays, always making it hurt a little more that the usual. Bruce didn’t need to finish explaining why he was there, Clark already knew. But he would still wait as much as necessary for Bruce to finally find his strength to say anything at all. He wouldn’t move an inch away from his friend.

“I’m not a child anymore,” Bruce finally managed to say, breaking their silence.

“I know.” Clark nodded, still waiting for his conclusion.

“It’s has been more than thirty years,” he continues.

“I know.” Clark is still nodding without saying more, giving Bruce all the space he needs to keep going.

“I’ve been keeping my promise, I’ve been taking care of Gotham... I’ve been trying to help as many people as I can… I- I’ve built a family of my own now... And yet I don’t understand…”

Clark stares at Bruce to find him staring back, his brown eyes glistening with the presence of tears that would be hidden in any minute, only Clark being able to see. Clark remains silent, giving Bruce all the time he needs, fighting the urge to hold the other man in his arms. He knew it wouldn’t be welcomed, so he stayed where he was, patiently waiting for Bruce to let the words out once and for all.

“I don’t understand… why does it still hurts?” Bruce closed his hands into fists, letting the thorns of the white roses sink into his fingers and palm again, hanging his head down. He starts to take deep breaths in an attempt to subside the feeling of anger and helplessness coming over him.

Clark wanted more than anything to hug Bruce at the moment, to take him away from that mausoleum, from all that pain and suffering he had to face throughout the years. However, Clark knew he wasn’t allowed to do so. Bruce wasn’t like Clark, who liked being touched when experiencing an emotional breakdown, the warmth of physical contact always bringing him peace. Bruce, on the other hand, always kept his distance even when he needed to be touched, to be held in someone’s arms. Clark wished he could change that about Bruce but he couldn’t. So he stays by Bruce’s side, listening to everything his friend has to say.

“People always say it gets better with time,” Bruce finally manages to speak, however, his voice was shaken, trying to get the words out before he would burst into tears, “That time heals everything. That it hurts less after a while…” he shakes his head, “It has been more than a while, Clark... Why does it still hurts like it was yesterday?”

“Because you love them,” Clark said without thinking twice, his voice heavy with understanding. He had himself a grave to visit, a wound that would never properly heal. That would always hurt the same even after all those years.

“Because they shouldn’t have gone so soon” Clark continued, worried if he was saying that more to himself than to Bruce, “Because you miss them and wish they were here to see you become the man you were supposed to be; because you wish they were here to see that you’re a father now. To see your children, the family you built on your own.” Clark now was staring at the ground, unable to look at Bruce, only letting the words find their way out of his mouth. He hoped he wasn’t trespassing by saying them. He swallowed before facing Bruce again, waiting for his reaction. “That’s not the kind of wound that fades away. It’s the kind we learn to live with.”

Bruce took his eyes from Clark to his parents’ crypts again, processing Clark’s words as if suddenly everything made sense. And he knew it did. If there was something Bruce knew very well was that losing a parent (or both of them) and losing a child were the worst things a person could go through. He would never stop hurting from it. He would never fill the hole left in his soul by their absence. That was a fact he would have to accept. A wound he should have known how to live with.

“I wish I could have done something…” Bruce whispered, once again feeling helpless and angry.

“I know.” Clark nodded, still waiting to hear more.

“I would have stopped it if I could.”

“I know.”

Bruce breathed deeply once again, trying to keep himself steady.

“There is so much I wish I could have told her… None of our conversations seemed to be enough…” He took another deep breath to finish his sentence, “when she was gone.”

“You can do it, now” Clark tilted his head to the marble wall with the crypts of the members of the Wayne family, “If you still want to.”

Bruce raised a brow to him, then letting out a sigh.

“She’s not here, Clark” he muttered, “There’s nothing left of her anymore…”

“Maybe not,” Clark agreed with him, “or maybe she is listening from somewhere else,” he tilted his head back as if looking through the ceiling to the night sky beginning to show, and maybe he was, “I always talk to Pa when I visit him.”

“And you believe he’s somewhere else listening to you?” Bruce did his best not to sound sardonic, but he couldn’t help it. Gone was the time when he still believed in such things.

“Bruce, I’m an alien who flies and shoots lasers from the eyes. I died and came back to life,” Clark replied narrowing his eyes in annoyance, “I don’t think I have the luxury of being skeptical about anything else.”

“Fair enough.” Bruce conceded.

“Look, I know Pa is not physically there when I talk to him, and that he can’t actually reply anything I say but…” Clark paused for a couple of seconds, then looking right at Bruce who was watching him curious, “You don’t do it to hear their answers right away, you do it because it brings you comfort. Because while you talk, you’ll be seeing things and even yourself through their eyes. The answers will come, eventually. It might take a while but they always do.”

Bruce was silent, once again processing Clark’s words. He looked down at his hand holding the bouquet of white roses, seeing the blood stains in the wrapping paper, hoping Clark didn’t.

“I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Do you mind if I talk to her?” Clark asked Bruce with a warm smile but still tentative, trying once again not to trespass any of his boundaries.

“Do you want to talk to my mother’s grave?” Of course he wants, Bruce thought, of course Clark would talk to his dead mother just to make him feel better because that’s what Clark Kent does.

“You think she won’t like me?” although Clark’s smile was present, Bruce noticed the concern in his voice and couldn’t help but feeling amused by it and by the way Clark said “she won’t like me” instead of “she wouldn’t”. That was Clark Kent ladies and gentlemen, easily going through the barriers Bruce constantly tried to build between them, being the kindest person possible to exist in this earth, even in a moment like that. Specially in a moment like that.

“No,” he managed to say, while trying to keep his heart and mind steady before Clark’s inquiring gaze, “I think it would be quite the opposite.”

Seeing Clark’s grin widen with that response surely made Bruce feel warmer inside, even though he wasn’t hoping to feel nothing of the sort that day in particular.

“So, it’s best to give her the gift you just brought, what do you think?” Clark gestured to the bouquet on Bruce’s hand.

Bruce blinked at him, raising his hand with the bouquet at the level of his chest.

“Bruce…” Clark examined the blood stains on the wrapping paper around the bouquet only with his vision. He didn’t dare to touch Bruce yet. He wouldn’t do anything without his permission. Even if all he wanted was to touch Bruce’s bruised hand in an attempt to make all of that pain go away.

“I came here to put some flowers in the vase for her...” Bruce said, finally finishing what he started to explain minutes ago but failed, “She always liked white roses.”

“Can I?” Clark reached his hands for the bouquet, again, waiting for Bruce’s permission.

“Y-yes.” Bruce handed the bouquet to Clark as if it was a burden he couldn’t stand carrying anymore. His brown eyes, pleading against Clark’s blue gemstones that stared at him so understanding when taking the flowers from his hands.

Clark carefully took off the bloodstained wrapping paper, holding the roses with his bare hands. Their thorns would hurt his skin anyway. He deposited the flowers in the vase hanging on the marble wall and began arranging them as in an ornamental vase. Clark has done that many times so his mother wouldn’t hurt herself when they have to replace the flowers on his father’s grave. He wondered how many times Bruce have done this alone for the past thirty years and wished he was there to keep him from hurting his hands too.

Bruce did nothing but stare at Clark carefully arranging the flowers in the vase beside his mother’s crypt, as if it was a ritual. He usually doesn’t let anyone join him when visiting his parents, specially in dates like this, except for Alfred who rarely comes along to keep him company. However, at that moment he was glad for having Clark there beside him.

“Done. They look beautiful this way.” Clark said, looking satisfied with his work, then placing himself beside Bruce again and turning to the face Martha Wayne’s crypt ornate with the white roses. He gives a step forward and clears his throat, “Hm… Hello Mr and Mrs Wayne, I’m Clark Kent, I’m a friend of your son’s” he started, fidgeting a little before continuing, Bruce couldn’t believe he was nervous for talking to his dead parents who couldn’t even listen to him.

“I know, he never brought none of his friends here and it probably made you think that he doesn’t have any friends but... he has me” Clark turned his eyes to Bruce, smiling, then turning to the marble crypt again, “Well, not just me, he has more friends. He has the kids and Alfred… Oh, and Ma… my mother, I mean” he was rubbing the back of his neck, like really having a conversation with the Waynes. Bruce couldn’t help but letting his lips curve in a little smirk with the sight, “It’s interesting that you two share the same name... I truly believe you’d get along very welI, considering what your sons’ job is. Even though I don’t think sharing our baby pictures would do good for our reputations...” Clark chuckled at the thought.

“Anyway, Mrs Wayne, I just wanted to wish you a happy mother’s day. I assure you that Bruce is being taken care of, specially by Alfred and Ma. I swear, someday I’ll get home and find that she replaced me with him as her son, really.” he grinned at Bruce who was still staring at him filled with amusement, “She loves him very much. We all do.” Clark found himself smiling saying those words, without worrying about what Bruce would think of them. Bruce need to hear, even if they were disguised. Even if that was everything Clark could do at the moment to let his feelings show.

“And I also wanted to thank you.” He cleared his throat, turning his attention to the marble crypt, “I’m sure Bruce wouldn’t be the person he is today if it weren’t for having an amazing mother by example. He’s a good man, a good father and a good friend. He is the kind of person who always thinks of others before himself and is always trying to make other people’s lives better. I believe he got this qualities from you and from Mr Wayne as well. And, of course, from Alfred. I hope to talk to you again soon, I promise to come visit often… if Bruce allows me. I hope you’re having a great mother’s day wherever you may be listening to us.”

Clark took the step back to Bruce’s side, still not sure if his efforts have borne some fruit until turning his gaze to the other man. Clark startled at the tears streaming from Bruce’s eyes and set himself even closer to him, still not sure if he would be allowed to touch Bruce but letting their shoulders touch, giving something for Bruce to lean on if he needed.

They stayed like that for a few seconds without saying a word. Bruce taking deep breaths while the tears kept streaming down his face. A silent sob, repressed even, but still better than not feeling anything at all. Clark murmured, asking if he was okay, and Bruce nodded in response, wiping his face before looking at him.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. Talk to them.” Bruce’s voice sound weak through the tears.

“I’ll leave you alone so you can talk to them” Clark said, softly as if he was talking to a child, before turning his way to the mausoleum door.

“Thank you.” Bruce said, holding Clark’s hand so he would turn back.

Clark stopped on his feet and turned to look at Bruce, surprised by his gesture but glad at the same time.

“I’ll be waiting outside if you need me,” he smiled again, squeezing Bruce’s hand before letting go, feeling his own strangely cold afterwards, “Bye Mrs Wayne. Bye, Mr Wayne.”

______________________________

Clark stayed in the private graveyard inside the Wayne Estate, waiting. He didn’t dare to eavesdrop Bruce’s conversation with his parents, so he took a walk between the gravestones outside, near the great Wayne mausoleum. Clark knew how hard this day must be to Bruce. Father’s day was never a pleasant day to him as well, and if he had lost Ma too, Clark definitely would be as hurt as Bruce was at the moment. Clark was grateful for having his mother around. He knew Bruce had Alfred too and knowing that was enough to hope at least the old butler could cross Bruce’s boundaries without being pushed away like the others.

Bruce had so many walls around his heart, sometimes Clark wondered how could he even breath. Clark was hopeful to someday break one by one until there was only him and Bruce, with nothing in between. He just couldn’t see that happening any soon. However, at least that moment represented a improvement in their relationship. Clark knew that being allowed by Bruce’s side in such vulnerable moment was a big deal. He knew what meant to be allowed inside Bruce’s family mausoleum, what meant for Bruce to share his grief with Clark like that. He was glad to be there, to be by his side, and would stay there until Bruce decided he didn’t need him anymore. Since it was everything he was allowed to do.

______________________________

Minutes later, he saw Bruce coming out from the mausoleum, closing the heavy iron doors behind him. Clark paced towards him, so they could walk back to the Manor.

They walked in silence for a while taking in the sight of the lights of the Wayne Manor. The Boys and Steph were there waiting for them. Barry was there too. Clark could see them gathered in the media room, arguing about what movie they should watch on Netflix this time. Alfred was in the kitchen preparing them snacks.

“Feeling better?” Clark turned his eyes to examine Bruce.

“Yes.” Bruce’s voice was hoarse due to how much he cried, but he still wasn’t willing to show it. His head hanged low, facing the ground as they walked away from the private graveyard.

“It always works.” Clark said in return, bumping his shoulders on Bruce's..

They kept walking in silence across the garden. They were halfway through the trail of gravel past the main fountain in the middle of the garden when Bruce stopped walking.

“About what you said…” Bruce managed to speak, finally lifting his head to face Clark.

“You mean, about visiting your parents?” Clark turned to face Bruce, concerned about having trespassed.

“You don’t have to-” Bruce tried to say, to thank Clark for his kindness when Clark interrupted him.

“I know. But like I said, I already promised to Mrs Wayne I would, so…” Clark shrugged, trying to assure Bruce that’s okay, that he didn’t need to do that alone. Not anymore.

“Clark…” Bruce tried again but Clark stepped even closer, taking Bruce’s hand with his own.

“Bruce, if you want company whenever you visit your parents, I'll be more than happy to be by your side,” he squeezed Bruce’s hand as the words left his mouth, as if trying to tell him something more. Really telling something more and praying Bruce would understand, “But I’ll do it only if you allow me.”

“Thank you, again.” Bruce ran his hand to hold closer into Clark’s in response. Maybe he did understand.

“Don’t mention it.” Clark’s grin made Bruce feel warmer inside for the second time that day.

They stayed in each other’s eyes, talking without saying a word. Clark didn’t care if he was letting his true feelings show at the moment, Bruce had to know he wasn’t alone. He would always be there, ready to hold Bruce’s hand when he needed.

Bruce tried to keep his heart steady, hoping Clark wouldn’t listen how it quickened when their hands touched but at the same time hoping he had. Clark was staring at him with such loving eyes, being so careful since they were in the mausoleum… He only wanted to be worthy of all of this.

“The kids must be home.” Bruce finally broke their gaze, turning to the windows of the Manor.

“They are.” Clark did the same, clearing his throat, “Barry is there too.”

“Of course…” Bruce mused about what that meant. Of course Barry was at the Manor too. He wasn’t the only one there who lost his mother. Barry and his children also knew the weight of a day like this.

“They told me where you were” Clark explained, “Dick said, I’m quoting this by the way, ‘Today is the day when all the orphans who live in this house should be gathered in a giant sofa, eating junk and watching movies’ and I think he’s right, though.”

“Are you staying tonight?” Bruce asked, wondering if he sounded too eager for Clark’s response.

“Sure.” Clark shrugged, trying to sound casual, but happy being allowed to stay “I mean, if you want to...”

“I do.” Bruce let his mouth form a little smile, only for Clark to see.

“Good.” Clark beamed at him, “They wouldn’t let me skip a movie night anyway.”

Bruce chuckled briefly, letting himself be embraced by the sound of Clark's laugh, feeling his heart lighter. It was always like this when Clark was around.

They started to walk again. They were still holding hands.

“Bruce?” Clark called as they got near the entrance.

“Yes?”

“Ma asked me to tell you next year she wants you, the kids and Alfred in the farm for a Mother’s Day lunch. And that’s not up for debate.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Bruce nodded.

“No, Bruce. That’s. Not. Up. For. Debate.” Clark said, looking genuinely worried, “You don’t know how much I had to hear from her because I showed up today without you. You’re going next year and this year’s Thanksgiving too. I don’t want to have to show up there without you again and she suddenly decides I don’t get to eat the turkey.”

“Alright,” Bruce conceded, amused by the nearly terror in Clark’s eyes, “We’ll be there.”

“I swear to God, sometimes I think Ma loves you more than she loves me.” He pouted, faking annoyance .

“I strongly believe the fact that I’m her favorite person might get you jealous.” Bruce said a little smug for seeing Clark pouting.

They passed through the door. Their hands still entwined. None of them in a hurry to let go.

“Nah.” Clark chuckled, rubbing the back of his head, and turning to give Bruce one of his heart stopping smiles, “Actually, I’m glad she likes you.”

For the first time that day, Bruce allowed himself to truly smile when said, “Me too.”

[madefate-a]

when the morning comes, wake up. 

he’s never been here, but he knows this place. 

this is not any kitchen he’s ever been to, but he aches with the knowledge of where every utensil sits and what mugs line the shelves and what punny phrases are stitched onto what are going to be two aprons, hung up on a peg next to the fridge. shiro stands on the threshold, one hand reaching out towards the doorframe without touching it. there should be no hand to make contact, or it should be something his but not -- alloy, gifted, loved, but separate -- and yet there are his knuckles, looking soft in the morning light streaming through the window. 

he stares at his hand, because he knows what he will see in the other direction and he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. 

❛ good morning, sleeping beauty. ❜ 

at his hand, he stares at his hand. it’s: the sound of something cooking, the sound of sun-risen birds, the sound of a voice that seeks out all his chipped edges and melts against them. with laughter, with sorrow, with anger, with love -- with whatever it might ring with, shiro knows this voice, too. even if it cannot be. 

( pilot error -- no. unending violet lit hallways -- no. it is because of their sacrifice -- a name, a nothing else, no, no. ) 

❛ sleeping in and my cooking? you certainly are learning how to spoil yourself, aren’t you? ❜ the voice crackles with fondness. shiro trembles through his ribs, and searches for derision. but there is only the sizzling of something shifting, flipped, and cheer as quietly floating as the morning light. 

shiro searches for his voice, but his tongue is heavy and his throat is closed. his hand is not at rest -- his fingers are outstretched, reaching for something that is not there. please, he tries and fails to say. please, don’t. ( that’s a monstrous thing to ask, when he’s -- he’s -- ) 

❛ remember the first year we did this? ❜ the voice continues, all lilting enthusiasm, quiet and subtle but shiro knows what it sounds like, the way it’s written into his muscle memory. ❛ i’d finally convinced you to let me take you out. made reservations and everything, and what did we do? ❜ mischievous humor lingers on the tail end of every word, fond enough that shiro feels his lungs drowning with it. ❛ do you remember, takashi? ❜ 

please, please, he thinks. and somehow, impossibly at the same time, he also thinks, we missed them. 

and the voice says: ❛ we missed them. ❜ 

he’s reaching out for something that sounds like glass breaking and the question ringing in his ears: did you really think that a monster like you -- he’s reaching out for a panel and button and he can’t stop himself. 

❛ you were too irresistible, ❜ the voice says. shiro’s heart races in his throat and he tries to pull away, he tries, he tries but this hand, his hand, does not listen. ❛ but my cooking is the best, so i suppose it all worked out in the end. ❜ 

please, he tries to say. 

i’m so sorry, he tries to say. 

❛ adam, ❜ he wakes up yelling. for a single, passing second, shiro wonders as to where he is -- but then there’s no time as he bolts upright, leaning forward and reaching for the sheets with a hand that isn’t there. his other moves to his face, then braces against the mattress when he loses his balance. 

everything happens all at once -- his trembling chest, his heaving breaths, he can’t breathe. his fingers dig into the sheets and all he can taste is guilt and a loss so deep and wide and clinging to all his bones and his soft parts he wonders what will happen to him -- if he will split right in two or merely empty his stomach. it’s his -- he -- where is -- i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, please -- 

he only realizes that he’s said the last at all when he registers the sensation of touch -- the fact that he has not the only one who’s been making noise that he couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. --- the same voice, the same gentle intonation, his name, ❛ takashi, ❜ and shiro -- ( please no, please not this ) 

( ❛ please, ❜ he murmurs, rough and desperate ) 

-- shiro freezes. 

maybe it is instinct finally kicking in. maybe it is the hand at his shoulder. maybe it’s his own brain, growing more lucid and less mired in the dream with each passing second. shiro’s breaths shake when he takes them -- but he takes them. deliberately, deeply, slowly as he can get them. 

❛ takashi, ❜ adam says again, his hand tightening on shiro’s shoulders. ❛ i’m here. keep breathing. just keep breathing. ❜ 

adam says it. they are here, in their bed, so far from almost everything terrible that shiro has ever done. they are here, together, because that wasn’t how things ended. that wasn’t. he remembers, now, the months they’ve spent together -- reunited, whole, alive. 

❛ i -- ❜ his voice cracks around the word and he finally finds a way to look up. his lips are buzzing and cold, his hand stiff, his vision almost doubled from the excess of oxygen. but there he is -- tousled from sleep, eyes warm and deep, lips parted. adam. adam. 

❛ adam, ❜ he says again, this time a harsh edged whisper, fervent. shiro releases his grip of the sheets and reaches his shaking hand out. adam meets him more than halfway, takes it in his own, and shiro shatters with it. 

❛ i’m so sorry. ❜ he grinds the words from his lips, over and over, pressed into the crook of adam’s shoulder as he soaks his shirt with tears. ❛ you were -- i’m sorry, i’m so sorry -- ❜ 

❛ it’s alright. ❜ adam’s voice is soft and low and shiro believes him, instantly, entirely. without thinking he allows the rest of his weight to drop, curled against adam’s shoulder, his chest -- wraps his arm around him as if he must memorize, again, what adam’s waist feels like in his embrace. 

there are lips against his hair, quiet words murmured against his skin so shiro can feel the vibration of adam’s lips. in fits and starts, his heart begins to slow and his breathing evens out. 

he doesn’t let go. 

adam doesn’t either. 

( eventually, adam will pull him to lie back down, fingers carding through his hair, something pleasant and loving in his voice when he says, ❛ interesting choice to start your birthday. ❜ and shiro will make a huffing sound against adam’s collarbone. he might even find it in himself to pull back enough to press a kiss against adam’s jaw, a vow of gratitude and apology and adoration. 

they still won’t let go until the sun is well past up. ) 

[courtingstars]

Notes for The Vanishing Prince, Chapter 1

I can’t believe I just typed that title… I’M FINALLY POSTING THIS FIC. Anyway.

This story is going to be a little different from the first two in A Spark of Light. Because of that, I have some really important stuff I need to say first! I’ll start with those things, then go into my usual notes about culture and timelines and KnB canon, etc. So, THE REALLY IMPORTANT STUFF…

(Cut for a whole bunch of warnings and info about dissociation disorders, family dysfunction, Japanese culture, spooky stuff, and lots of other bits and pieces)

1. This is a story about a very misunderstood mental illness. It’s not going to be perfect, but I’ll do my best.

I’ve alluded to mental health issues in the first two stories, specifically that Furihata has anxiety, and Akashi has an undiagnosed dissociative disorder.

This story focuses a lot more on the latter, which is a deeply misunderstood and stigmatized mental health issue. I’ve tried to do as much research as I can on these disorders, and on how the human brain processes trauma—which is connected to dissociation, a survival mechanism. However, I do not have a dissociative disorder myself, so I want to emphasize that I’m not an expert, and this is not based on my personal experience. I did consult first person accounts, and used them as inspiration. But in the end, this is a fictional story based on the canon of Kuroko no Basuke, which is imperfect and can be misleading/confusing, when it comes this part of Akashi’s character. (I’ll try to explain why as I post more of the fic.)

Also, not all people who have more than one self state consider themselves to have a disorder… I’ve sometimes seen the term “multiple” used for this. In addition, some people want to keep their different self states separate, and live as they are. I chose to depict Akashi as having a disorder because of his arc in KnB canon—specifically, how Last Game ends. So like in canon, this series is about Akashi coming to terms with having a disorder and making the eventual decision to integrate his selves. (Some fans were disappointed with that aspect of Extra Game/Last Game in part because psychiatry sometimes pushes integration as the only valid treatment goal for dissociation, which it isn’t. But since I felt Akashi made that choice for himself in KnB, I went with his decision in my fics as well. For a thorough article about some of the issues surrounding the integration process, I highly recommend this site.)

So I’m going to do the best I can, to make Akashi’s portrayal nuanced and positive, and use current knowledge about dissociation. But I know it won’t be perfect, and I’m going to make mistakes. (Especially since the experiences of these disorders can vary a lot, so what is true for some people may be very different for others… Since I based it on canon, Akashi’s experience definitely diverges from what tends to be described as “typical.”) So I want to apologize for any issues in advance, and I’ll do my best to address and/or correct them. The fic also deconstructs some stereotypes and misconceptions. (Especially as they relate to Bokushi.) One of the reasons I wanted to write this story was because I wanted to explore Akashi’s experience in more depth, and try to fill in some things we don’t know about him. On that note…

2. This story will include depictions of family dysfunction, emotional neglect, and some (mostly implied) abuse.

I’ve talked before about my portrayal of Akashi’s family in this series. But I think it’s worth mentioning again that I’m writing about Akashi’s parents—and his extended family and caretakers—as flawed people, who made some very misguided decisions about how to raise a child. For the sake of spoilers, I won’t go into more details yet. But I wanted to make sure to give a heads-up that this story will go to a darker place than the previous two. (Which I tried to imply near the end of Storming the Castle.)

For anyone who’s concerned that it might be too intense, I’m aiming to keep everything in this story to a solid PG-13 rating, at most. I’ll also provide content warnings for any intense scenes, so you can skip or skim them if you prefer.

That said, I intentionally avoided going with the darkest possible interpretations of Akashi’s family life. I don’t want this story to be overly disturbing, or make any of the characters out to be truly evil. But I did want to show that sometimes, caretakers make decisions they intend to be loving, but that cause real mental and emotional harm in the long term.

3. This story has paranormal elements. A LOT of paranormal elements.

On the note of getting darker, I should probably mention that this story will also have more spooky/paranormal stuff. While Storming the Castle took most of its inspiration from fairy tales, The Vanishing Prince includes some inspiration from ghost and horror stories, particularly Japanese ones. That being said, I didn’t want readers to have to stop the series early because it got too scary! So just like in StC, I’m aiming to keep the spooky parts to a PG rating, and to have a more “fantasy” tone overall, kind of along the lines of a Miyazaki movie. (As in no super gory descriptions, any past violence related to the paranormal will be implied instead of shown, nothing too creepy or viscerally gross, etc.)

Still, expect plenty of allusions and/or depictions of Japanese spiritualism, ghosts, youkai, Shinto beliefs, Buddhist beliefs, Japanese funeral rituals, graves, temples etc. There are also a few concepts borrowed from Western mysticism… That’s mostly Reo’s fault. Because, uh, tarot cards? Which is canon and I did not make that up.

As always, please note that I’m not an expert on Japanese culture! I try to make sure that what I include in my fics is as accurate as possible, but I’m not Japanese, so it’s better to assume that it includes at least some Western misconceptions and/or errors. (Plus there are probably about a million Westerners who know more about Japanese ghost stories than I do.)

4. This story includes some sexual tension, but it’s mild/implied.

One other thing I should mention… The characters’ sexuality is addressed more directly in this fic, so there are allusions to sexual tension. That said, because the characters are still teenagers, I’m going to keep it at a PG-13 level at most. (Basically, arousal is implied, no explicit mentions of body parts, etc.) You can see examples of this in Furihata’s scenes in Chapter One. I went with this approach for multiple reasons. But a big one is that I want people who were most comfortable with the ratings of previous fics in the series to be able to keep reading if they want to!

Okay, that’s it for the serious “here’s what you’re getting into” kind of stuff. Now for less important things…

Timeline of the Fic

This series takes place in the spring and summer after the Winter Cup in Kuroko no Basuke canon. The first three stories also takes place before Last Game, which happens in August. The Vanishing Prince starts right after Storming the Castle. Which means it’s set mostly near the end of July, partly during summer vacation in the Japanese school calendar. I wanted to mention this because this is a story about Oreshi and Bokushi, so establishing where it fits in the canon seems like important background info! And speaking of Bokushi…

Oreshi’s Point of View vs. Bokushi’s Point of View

So if you’ve already read the chapter, you know that this fic series finally has a third point of view! (YAY. I’M SO EXCITED.) Originally, I wasn’t sure if I was going to include Bokushi’s PoV… But once I started writing it, I was having way too much fun, so yes, it’s happening. XD

The one tricky thing is that both Oreshi and Bokushi like to use the same full name. (Which is not always the case with dissociation, by the way… It’s an interesting part of both of their characters, I think!) So I decided that for the scenes that are written in Oreshi’s point of view, Oreshi will continue to be called Akashi. And when a scene is in Bokushi’s point of view, Bokushi is referred to as Seijuurou. (I based this off of an aspect of his character that he’ll bring up later.)

So hopefully that wasn’t too confusing to read! Also, Oreshi and Bokushi will both refer to their other self as “my other self,” or sometimes “my brother.” (Which is a headcanon based off of that one line in KnB where Oreshi compares Bokushi to “a troublesome little brother.”)

Therapy and Dissociation Terms

This note is pretty serious again… This story will contain depictions of psychiatry and therapy. I’m not an expert on either of these things, and the culture around therapy in Japan is different than it is in Western countries. (I talked about that in some of my notes for Storming the Castle earlier.)

So while I’ll do my best to strike a balance between realism and fiction, this story is going to take some fictional license with the therapy process. The main reason is that I wanted Akashi’s situation in the story to seem unusual in certain ways, because the power he wields in terms of his family background is so unusual. Hopefully I conveyed that the psychiatrist in the story is choosing to go out of her way in Akashi’s case, and possibly making some exceptions that she wouldn’t make otherwise.

(That being said, from everything I could gather, parental permission is not strictly required by law for teenagers to receive therapy in Japan… Unlike where I live in America, where it is in a lot of states, though the specifics vary a lot.)

And on that note, I should mention one of the terms I used… When it comes to dissociation disorders, having more than one self state is often referred to as having “alters.” Not everyone uses this term. (I’ve seen some people say they dislike using it because it sounds clinical, for example.) On the recommended site I use for general information about dissociation disorders, they do use “alter.” So that’s why I used it too. (Also, the fic takes place in 2010, and I believe alter was standard back then as well.) But please keep in mind that some people might not use that particular term!

Oreshi and Bokushi’s Headspace, and Co-Consciousness

I also wanted to briefly bring up the “room” inside Akashi’s mind, where Oreshi and Bokushi talk… I based its appearance off of that scene near the end of the anime, where Oreshi confronts Bokushi inside their mind:

My headcanon is that Oreshi and Bokushi use this as a space where they can both communicate with each other. This is based on something common among people who have dissociation, sometimes called headspace, which you can learn about here. In my fic, Bokushi and/or Oreshi’s presence in this room represents that they’re conscious at the moment. Meaning that they’re aware of what’s going on in the world around them, even though the other self may be in control of their body. When two alters are conscious at the same time, it’s called being “co-conscious.” In KnB canon, it’s implied that Oreshi and Bokushi are co-conscious at least some (and possibly most, or all!) of the time. I’ll talk more about that later, and why I went with the interpretation of canon that I did.

Also, I wanted to quickly mention these lines in the chapter:

“[Akashi] didn’t recall losing track of events against his will. But there used to be many instances where he would let himself drift away, on one level or another. He would lose a few minutes of time, while his brother would talk in his place.”

This is based on one of the Teikou scenes when Midorima noticed that Akashi seemed to have “another Akashi inside him” that said things that were different from his usual personality. This happened before the scene where Bokushi took complete control. So I headcanon that before Oreshi ever let Bokushi fully switch places with him, he sometimes let Bokushi speak in his place, temporarily. I also headcanon that he started doing this while interacting with his dad. (There’s a part in the manga that implies that Oreshi had feelings of being “separate” before Teikou, too.) So that’s where that theory came from!

Fast Train References

Also, just a quick reminder that Akashi’s promise to show Furihata around Gion at night is from The Fast Train to Kyoto! (And I’m very excited that Kyoto is going to be a setting again. <3) Also in that fic, I introduced the Akashi family estate in Kyoto for the first time. In my headcanons, this is the area where his family originally lived centuries ago, and they acquired the mansion in Tokyo later. Furihata hasn’t visited the Kyoto estate yet, but he will. ;)

And that’s it for now! Wow, this was a looong post. ^^; Kudos to anyone who read the whole thing! And I really hope you all enjoyed this introduction to The Vanishing Prince. I’m so excited to be sharing it, finally. <3

(And unlike in Storming the Castle, I don’t feel nearly as bad for that cliffhanger in Chapter One… Because that’s exactly how it’s been in my head for three years, and Bokushi makes no apologies. //laughs)

[prettylittlepawn]

Diary Ent̵͉̂r̵̯͛ȳ̶̬ ❀ ̵̨̛͉̲̲̝̱̜̹́̃̋̔̚͜3̸͉̿

((OOC: This diary entry will act as a recap for everything until now. There are things that Chiyo wouldn’t know about, but needed to be clarified, so please overlook these inconsistencies.))

Diary,

I have long forgotten how many days have passed, but that worry pales in comparison to the horrors all of us have experienced here.

There is so much to recount since my last entry. Such horrific events that I can only wish to forget one day. Diary, to an extent I feel as if I should apologize to you for not keeping you up to date. However, at the same time I wonder why I feel compelled to do so while you are simply a journal for my eyes and no one else’s. Still, I shall recount everything as I remember.. starting from the beginning, and continuing through what I’ve already recounted before.

It all started when nineteen of us awoke in a strange room. 

Each of us was more confused than the last and none of us knew a shred of information. There had been a puzzle in the room, solved only after a series of trial and error... our prize was an electric pad, displaying an incomplete map, labeling that room as the “anteroom.”

Soon enough we were introduced to the “Captains” of this luxury cruise ship which we happened to be on. But.. when I say captains.. they weren’t exactly what one might have in mind. Neither of them are human, both of them are plush robotic animals. One, Torimi, is an owl. She is half pink with white polkadots and half dark purple. She adorns a yellow bow and a cheerful attitude, saying “ohohoho” quite often. The other, Akomi, is an axolotl. He is half white and half orange, with floral decoration. He adorns a dark purple bow tie and a rude attitude. Both of these captains feature a red jagged glass eye on their darker half accompanied by a wicked smile. They both also appear to have white bellies with bellybuttons- despite their animal design. I only describe them so deeply because.. their image haunts me dearly...

They told us that we are trapped here, and to escape we must.. kill another.. and get away with murder. They called this a “Killing Game.”

Since my last entry, our only casualty had been Etheldred, the poor soul who had died cruelly at the hands of that.. that axolotl creature. I barely remember why that had happened, I can recall the image of her body bloodied and limp against the wall. She had defied those two robotic monsters after they cruelly killed an old woman. The old woman was Etheldred’s grandmother, and those two self proclaimed “Captains” of this ship simply killed the old woman as an example. Etheldred immediately darted to stop, or even get revenge from those two animals, only to be suddenly stabbed at the neck with a decorative fish. There... was so much blood. I could gag at the memory...

My god, I can’t handle continuing with this. It just.. too cruel.

After that, I had run away in a blind panic. Takuma, the blue haired guitarist, he comforted me. Little did I know, this wouldn’t be the only time he would do so, not by a long shot.

We were given time to explore the ship afterwards. The animals seemed to have planted puzzles to tease us with. Questions that lead to more questions... I feel as if we are all simply being toyed with.

While searching for a puzzle myself, I accidentally and foolishly cut myself in the armory and was rushed to the infirmary thanks to Dmitri. After arriving, Leon looked after me... and.. I was suddenly compelled to tell him my secret.

After a time they gave us what they called “a motive.” Each of us seemed to get a video of our loved ones being tortured and threatened with death unless we start killing each other. I was trembling, staring at the screen of my parents. However, it seemed like others had even more urgent worries.

Takuma had bolted out of the room, similarly to how I did so long ago. And that was the first time I had comforted him.

Suddenly, Ethan Townsworth, the dark looking criminal psychologist, was found stabbed and in comatose, resting in the infirmary. It was so immediate and quick, no one knew what happened! I can only be thankful that we had our Ultimate Surgeon Elizabeth Voz to aid him. At the sight of the blood I.. I think I hid into my room. I’m... so thankful for all my shipmates for cleaning up the scene. I.. I don’t think I could handle it.

Soon afterwards there seemed to be a strange argument between the two plush robots, Akomi and Torimi. The next day, Akomi was found on the kitchen floor with stuffing all around and a knife in his back. It was shocking! I didn’t know what to think.. I spent some time investigating with Takuma, finding incriminating evidence against him... It definitely made me feel anxious.

We held a sort of informal class trial for Akomi. Although, at the time, none of us knew what a formal class trial would be like. The trial was hectic nonetheless, accusations and evidence was thrown all about. Even I was accused by Minori Saeki, the volatile accessory maker! My head was spinning.. despite all my logic and knowledge, I feel like I’m just a deadweight in such tense settings like this.

The informal trial had so many heart pounding turns- but the most thrilling part was when Petra Sakai, the red haired jazz singer, revealed that Dmitri Cierzon had been the one to stab Ethan! Not only that, but it was also revealed that Ethan is also a well known serial killer known as The Butcher. It stunned the entire conversation, I simply remember that my mouth was agape. It turns out that Petra had been extremely fixated on Dmitri after learning his action against Ethan. I.. could only blindly guess as to why.

The trial eventually came to a close, with Torimi foolishly revealing herself as the killer and Akomi revealing himself as never having been truly hurt in the first place.

I’m not sure how much longer after that occurred, but Takeshi, a muscly video editor, had been able to hack into the Mimi pad that each of us had been given and found a peculiar video. I’m still unsure about the significance of it.. it’s mysterious for sure, but none of us seemed to be able to decipher a meaning. Additionally, Manobu, a white haired and confidence architect, found a small compartment that revealed the two plush animals, but truly plush this time- no robots inside. They had messages attached to them: “Hers, one to save the world.” “His, one to win the game.” What do they mean?

Strangely, the Torimi animal commanded us play a social game. “King’s Game” is what it was called. Although I had never played, it was terribly fun. Despite.. our losses and worries, we were having fun. The most notable things about this game is that Runa Knightly, a wonderfully nice writer, confessed her feelings for Seojun Tsoi, a professionally titled internet troll... My heart swelled. Another notable event was the growing relationship of Kai Schmutz, a young small and eery gravedigger and Cici, a dressage and self proclaimed protector of justice. They were... quite cute together.

Honestly, thinking about the mysteries and relationships that come from the time spent here on this ship is much more pleasant than thinking about the events that followed.

Soon after the King’s Game, I discovered Takeshi’s body limp and lifeless on the gym floor. Although the scene itself wasn’t difficult to see in of itself, it was the fact of implications. Takeshi had been murdered, which meant that we were living amongst a murderer. I had fainted soon after screeching at the sight of him. It’s.. embarrassing to an extent, but what kind of reaction am I expected to make?

I was comforted by my peers, Runa Knightly and Leonhard, a stylish dollmaker and confectionist. I am... happy to make connections like this, despite... everything.

There was a period of investigation, shipmates poking and prodding everything everywhere for evidence. And soon the investigation period was over, and we were going to have our first formal trial.

Entering the trial grounds, it was nothing like any of us could have expected. When the two “Captains” Torimi and Akomi had told us that we were on a ship, none of use had any inkling of an idea that we were on an airship. The trial grounds had glass walls and floors, making it more than clear that this is indeed the truth of our situation. Clouds glided beneath our feet and there was no denying it.

Ethan Townsworth was still incapacitated, and yet there was only just enough podiums for all of us on the trial grounds, save for two podiums, with a memorial stand for Etheldred and another for Takeshi. Looking at those images.. the bloody red marked X over their profiles. I got chills.

Unsurprisingly, I was not useful during the trial. Conversations and arguments dragged on for hours, it was almost difficult to follow. Eventually it lead to a proper suspect, Cici. None of us could believe it at first, but it became undeniable as she slipped up about having knowledge of a “Perfect Poison” that Dmitri supposedly had in his possession. It was jarring. Cici.. she had sworn to be our protector and a princess. Although I didn’t have a close connection with her, I could only imagine how the others had felt.. Kai...

The two captains announced a “punishment,” an execution...

I can’t think about it.. It.. it hurts too much...

We somehow learned that Cici had a twin sibling that they would die for. Her sibling was disowned by her money-minded parents and fought against them, fighting against animal cruelty. That was something Cici desperately wanted to do herself, but only her sibling had the strength to. After seeing her precious twin being tortured and held hostage as we all did, she grew a resolve to escape and save her... although, that wasn’t what pushed her to do what she did.

It turns out that Takeshi had a similar resolve, wishing to escape and rescue his long love and video partner. Takeshi took it upon himself to plan out a murder, but foolishly left the plans written on that cursed planning table in the armory. Cici had seen Takeshi’s plans to murder someone, and decided to protect everyone by taking him out herself.

She had stolen a “Perfect Poison” from Dmitri that was the prize for properly solving a puzzle in the infirmary. It was during the confusion of Ethan’s injury, I think.

Cici gave Takeshi the poison in the kitchen, deceiving him, claiming to be giving an energy drink. Takeshi has collapsed almost immediately, and Cici transported his body to the gym using one of the low rise carts from the gym’s closer. She continued to tamper with the scene, pouring water on the floor and laying weights upon him, trying to make it seem like he had tripped and hurt himself that way.

As horrible as this all was.. things would only get worse.

Writing all this is.. almost too trying, my heart can’t take it.. tears are brimming as i write but.. I- I can’t help but feel obligated. What if I become the next victim? I simply must continue, I don’t want to be forgotten..

The time mourning our losses was short lived. Or perhaps it only felt that way.. as time felt almost malleable, the only thing I knew and still now is that we need more time to mourn. The day after, new rooms were revealed to us, and they expected us to explore and discover puzzles. Or at least that’s what I assumed of them. Including the rooms revealed since the beginning, these were all the rooms available to us at the time: armory, laundry room, anteroom, infirmary, gift shop, gym, gym closet, kitchen, dining room, bunkers, library, theater, backstage, and control booth.

I.. happened upon something troubling in the control booth, and decided to hide and keep it to myself. Although, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had seen me.

I happened upon Leon, and, hoping to.. feel safer, I requested him to be my knight. He seemed happy to take the offer, “protecting his queen.” Ahaha, I was so honored, I blushed. Although, I am no queen, not yet at least.

Eventually, our two sadistic captains called us together for another social event, but this one is much less enjoyable than the last. This game is titled “Secrets and Sins,” and it consisted of nothing but revealing undesirable secrets, drawn from a hat of all of our secrets. At this point, Ethan Townsworth had awoken and participated in this game as well.

These secrets.. they’re so troubling.. and having my own secret revealed had thrown me into hysteria. I’m unsure if I should recount these secrets since.. well.. they’re a little bit more than simply private. Although.. at the same time, this will be private as well, right. Whispering secrets to myself shouldn’t do any harm.

Here are a few of the secrets revealed: my own, in which my blood can be found on the black market; revelation that Dmitri’s true talent is not a pastry chef but actually a spy; Izaya had attempted suicide five times; Seojun has self harm scars; Takuma is a survivor of a car crash, and while one of his parents has passed the other is comatose.

Takuma he... never fails to comfort me when I need it. And.. his embrace is so comforting.. Despite everything my parents had warned me about, I want nothing more than to trust him with my life. I only hope I don’t regret these feelings.

The game ended, as all games do, and suddenly it seemed as if all of us had a closer understanding of each other. With secrets revealed, it seemed like we had actually grown closer, having little left to hide. Izaya and Raiden, a respectable Sumo wrestler seemed to have even become a couple. Although the game was horrible, I wonder if this was the captains’ goal. Or perhaps they had messed up..

Not long afterwards the axolotl and owl had gathered us together again. At first it seemed like a simple feast. They prepared the dinning room fantastically with a spread of every food imaginable. It was soon revealed to just be a lure for a new motive: another video of our loved ones.

This video consisted of our loved ones congratulating us on our graduation of Hope’s Peak. This stunned us, realizing that we had genuinely lost years of our memories and experiences. But that wasn’t all, the plush animals told us that we could recover our memories if we killed, and if we don’t, then the memories our loved ones have of us will be wiped just like ours had been.

I can barely remember anything from then anymore. After the feast had gone away, I ate something strange, and my thoughts became hazy and erratic. I was.. rude to Runa, and talked back to Petra. I.. I can’t even imagine myself doing anything like that.

I awoke the next day to Takuma informing me that two more bodies have been discovered: Ethan and Minori’s. I couldn’t believe that their lives had ended so quickly. Then he informed me that it was done with an explosion. I... panicked.

The something I had “happened upon” in the control booth had been a bomb and a trigger, a prize for solving a puzzle. The bomb was missing and the trigger was in my pocket. With Takuma there to see men in my panic, I begged him not to tell. He heartedly agreed, and I felt overwhelmingly relieved... and guilty. My logic and reasoning had told me that I was the killer, must have had done something horrible in my delusion after eating something strange.

I had to be the killer, that’s what my logic was telling me. Or, at least that’s what I thought.

Takuma tried to lead me outside of my room, hoping to allow me a chance to investigate before the trial. But...

I couldn’t shake that feeling.

The feeling that I was the killer and that I was going to die.

I held onto his hand and pulled him towards me.

As far as reasoning goes, I no longer understand my mind and heart and my actions.

I kissed him.

Lightly and desperately I gave him my fist and possibly last kiss as tears streamed down my eyes.

I pulled back after a moment and he.. he continued to pull me to investigate. I was almost heartbroken.. I was so unsure of everything but all I wanted was to do it again.

Ethan and Minori’s bodies were almost completely mangled. The blood and stench of burnt flesh seeped into the walls and stained my memories. I.. cowardly stayed as far away from the scene as i could. The investigation period ended too soon, and the trial had arrived before we knew it.

That time, entering the trial grounds was akin to entering our own collective horror story. It was storming beyond the glass walls and floors. Cracking and booming thunder accompanied flashing lightning. I’m not sure if anyone noticed me jump every time they startled me. Dark clouds only gave slight premonition to our bleak future.

As the trial continued, it seemed clear to me that I had to confess. They were going no where, bringing up disconnected points of evidence and recycling known information. It turns out that Takuma was unable to keep his promise and had brought suspicion onto me. I confessed immediately, grossly sobbing and apologizing, begging everyone to vote for me and survive another day.

But my reasoning was wrong. I couldn’t believe it, the logic that I had cultivated as a chess player was completely wrong, as they pointed out inconsistencies and evidence against my confession. As relieved as I was to be proven wrong, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe.. that my logic was wrong.

The trial continued, and another slip from our killer revealed a new undeniable suspect. Petra Sakai, our hot blooded jazz singer slipped up. It was an unsuspected turn, especially as it seemed like no evidence pointed to her save for her own oral mistake.

She continued to fight, blaming myself as the killer, but with reasoning of everyone together against it seemed more than clear that it couldn’t have been me, and it had to be her.

This time, all of us unapologetically voted for her. And we were right.

Petra had indeed seen me escaping with the bomb that day. She left some food for me to naively eat, but I was drugged, leaving me feeling agitated and sedated. I fell into a deep sleep.

From there, Petra stole the bomb and trigger, and then she left a note for Ethan, luring him into the library. However, at the same time Minori had plotted to kill him as well, following and sneaking into the library from the control booth, locking the door behind them.

Ethan approached the bomb that Petra planted out of sight, and he died upon impact. Minori had entered the room, and the shrapnel and explosion of the bomb only grazed them. Seeing Minori at the scene, Petra had to get rid of them, and struggled against them, using Minori’s own knife against them.

Petra then continued with the murder, leaving a calling card of another killer and tampering with the evidence. In the end, she planted the trigger back in my pocket during my delirious slumber.

It turns out that Petra was not only the Ultimate Jazz Singer, but also the Ultimate Copycat Murderer. I... I had no idea that Hope’s Peak had accepted such people...

Petra had grown up with parents who were also serial killers, and I suppose that she simply followed in their footsteps. Her parents had embedded in her the idea that she must find her true love, and she will know that they are her true love because they will happily kill along side her.

Perhaps this is why she so closely latched onto Dmitri after learning he was the one who stabbed Ethan.

When Akomi and Torimi gave everyone the motive videos, Petra wondered who a particular person was. While the others she recognized, there was a face congratulating her that she had never seen before.

The two captains informed her that that person was her true soulmate, and they had met and fell in love during her lost memories at Hope’s Peak Academy. This is what drove her to take the lives of our classmates- to reunite with her soulmate. “This was all for love!” She screamed.

That scream still echoed in all of our minds as we watched her “punishment”... her execution.

I wanted to hurl. Even she didn’t deserve such a cruel fate.

At the end of the trial, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed by all of those I felt close to. Takuma was unable to keep his word, and Leon had brought it out of him, effectively putting me in the spotlight for mains suspect. I felt guilty for my rudeness towards Runa- and a gross pang of jealousy with her and Seojun’s growing relationship.

Once again, new rooms opened up for us to explore. It seemed almost as if this were nothing more than a process at that point. We now had a lounge, a fortune teller’s room, a ballroom, and a chapel along with everything else.

I eventually caved into my feelings, realizing my immaturity and apologized to everyone I felt the need to. I am young, and my logic is flawed, so I should trust in my peers to help us find the truth. That was the resolve I came to. I confronted Leon, apologized for my actions of hiding evidence, and reinstated him as my loyal knight. I apologized to Runa as well, although I.. didn’t bring up my feelings about her and Seojun... And- I apologized to Takuma.

We happened to come across each other in the lounge, and I had originally wanted to immaturely remain stubborn. Ah, I- It’s difficult to think about, simply because of how childish and embarrassing I acted.

I walked up to him and declared that I didn’t forgive him yet (while secretly I already did) and he immediately bombarded me with promises and make ups- and I turned away.

And only when I looked back did I realize that he... he...

..

Ah, I suppose it’s not my story to tell, but I.. grew a sort of resolve afterwards. We had ended up in his bunker and became much closer. I’m... so... embarrassingly fond of him... fond of his touch... his lips.. ah, simply the way he holds me makes em feel a sort of bliss I’ve never felt before... Takuma... This feeling is.. so true....

How do I describe the next few events? The bizarre actions of our “Captains” never fail to confuse me as every one of us woke up one day to find a wedding invitation at our bunker door. Although it didn’t say who the betrothed was, it claimed to be a wedding for Akomi and “his beloved,” and that proper formal clothing was prepared for us in our closets.

Arriving at the Chapel, it was clear that this was all the doing of our very own Ultimate Wedding Planner Josefina, as every corner of the already beautiful rococo decor has been bonafide with florals and wedding decorations. I was worried at first.. I didn’t see Takuma anywhere! And.. seeing Runa and Seojun appreciate each other’s dapper and stunning formal clothes.. well, I can’t say i wasn’t envious.

After everyone was settled, the organs started playing, and we waited for Akomi’s beloved to be revealed beyond the door. I was still upset at Takuma’s absence, but was immediately stunned by what happened next.

Takuma, adorned in a white dress, stood there... seemingly just as stunned as we were. How was I- how was any of us supposed to respond to this situation? Organ music still playing, Takuma quickly questioned and claimed to have been drugged asleep until right then at that moment. I barely recall, but I’m sure people were laughing at the time.

Takuma walked the aisle unglamorously and approached Akomi, quickly requesting a divorce before being wed. Interestingly- and much to my relief- Akomi agreed to the arraignment and the marriage was called off.

Akomi and Torimi quickly ushered all of us into the ballroom for some post-wedding/divorce ceremony. I’m still unsure of the processes of a traditional wedding or divorce, but we had a moment to dance and treat ourselves to a massive white cake.

And.. when I say massive that is no exaggeration.. the base of the cake seemed to be akin to the base of a grand piano, and the height nearly reached the ceiling, forcing me to wonder how they could have possibly brought it into the room. Still, I treated myself to a portion of it.. Leonhard had... treated himself to a little bit more than a portion.

During our time dancing, Runa and Seojun shared a flashy and scenic kiss. Ah.. even writing this now boils some sort of feeling inside of me. Turning away from the scene... I... asked Takuma to kiss me as well, and he complied.

After some time, the captains brought to us another social game. “The Newlywed Game,” it was called, and the questions varied greatly. Some questions related to our playing partner, some not, some even.. asked us personal questions... and even more.. ah, I’m not sure how to describe them clearly. I suppose.. an example is needed. One of the questions I recall was “What would you do if you were charged at with a knife?”

That event had finally ended after what seemed like too long. Leonhard had treated himself to too much cake and.. seemed a little more than ill. After we finished the game a number of people rushed him to the infirmary. We were left wondering why the two animals had put us through all that, but questions like that were only as pointless as everything else that’s happened to us.

A day passed, and it seemed like we found the answer- or at least the answer to why the wedding was held. Those of us who had eaten the cake were given some sort of antidote or immunity to some strange invisible gas the captains had released all over the ship. They caused hallucinations, paranoia, and it became clear that this was Akomi and Torimi’s new motive.

Some time passed, those of us who were affected and were a harm to ourselves were staying in the infirmary. And as soon as we thought they were safe enough to return to their bunkers for the night, another murder happened.

Manobu, the confident self-loving architect and Raiden, the overwhelmingly nice sumo wrestler. Th... their deaths.. they were nothing less of horrific. Entering the chapel after hearing the commotion, I saw Manobu’s body strung up by ropes on the podium, looking as if he were staring us down like some sort of deity. Raiden’s body.. was... gruesome, horrible to even lay eyes on. Izaya was there long before I even peeked into the ballroom. Cradling his head, Izaya was more than heartbroken, more than mourning. It’s.. it’s too cruel.. I feel as if I could.. tears almost overflowing myself as I write this. Raiden’s body was defiled with self harm markings, surrounded by a pool of blood and incriminating objects around him.

I hate this.. I.. I hate having to live this way.. to experience all this... The end of the investigation period couldn’t come soon enough.

Once again, I was helpless during the trial. But this time I’m unsure if it was because of the whirring and frightening field of green tornadoes beyond the glass or because of my own shortcomings.

It seemed almost as if we were never going to find the true killer, until Elizabeth slipped and revealed damning evidence against her. Elizabeth Vos.. our surgeon.. who.. who had sworn under a Hippocratic Oath to save lives.. was revealed to have plotted to kill all of us..

She failed to have any cake during the wedding reception, and was victim to the same hallucinations and hysteria as her patients. The biggest difference is that her hallucinations were of her murderous parents, telling her to escape and become a true surgeon or else her life had been for naught. It drove her mad. And this madness told her that she needed to kill everyone in order to escape- after all, if you kill everyone, there is no one to discover your fault.

Elizabeth confronted Manobu first, who was also under the hallucinations without that cake. She told him that there was someone plotting to kill him, and together they planned to investigate everyone at different times. She had Manobu write and deliver notes to everyone, to lure them out at different times, but only a few people had actually received the letters, being so late at night.

Before the next day, Elizabeth and Manobu met up again one last time, and she offered him tea with sedatives inside. It was then that Manobu realized he was being poisoned, and requested a final wish. He wanted to be discovered by everyone in the chapel, with his body looking down upon them. Strangely, Elizabeth complied. As she left to the armory to retrieve rope, Manobu used the last of his strength to take himself to the Chapel. Elizabeth eventually came, strapping him to his wishes, and performed a lethal injection to put him to rest.

Next, she happened to come across Raiden, and then did the same. Sedatives within a cup of tea, and then lethal injection. As soon as she did so however, Akomi and Torimi came in to remind her that killing more than two people at a time was against the rules, and she would be executed if she were to continue with her plan.

She resolved that she would have to cover up her tracks if she wanted to escape like her delusions wanted her to.

She first slit Raiden’s arms to make it seem as if it was a suicide. She went back to Manobu, and roughly strangled his neck with some spare rope, tearing his skin off of his neck. She left the rope and a knife from the kitchen at Raiden’s side, to frame him for Manobu’s death. She even went as far as to rub the rope against Raiden’s palms, tearing the skin there as well.

She scrambled to hide evidence, retrieving the unsent letters and planting them in Runa’s cloths in the laundry room. Ineffectively framing her for the murders.

How could all of this happen? My head is honestly still spinning. Elizabeth was a doctor, she cared for all of us. It’s all those two monster’s faults. Akomi and Torimi. Our captains. This is all because of that hallucinating gas.

It seemed like Elizabeth came to at the very end, begging and apologizing for her actions.

It’s... so hard to bare.

She was dragged off, as they all were, to another horrific execution. “Punishment..” This entire Killing Game is a punishment.

Many of us were devastated by this latest murder. To me.. it almost feels as if my heart has stopped beating. Surely it is, I’m still alive after all. But it doesn’t feel quite right. Fear flows through my every vein as I’m now completely alone in my bunker.

Of course, even now the horror doesn’t end.

New rooms were revealed to us, and none of us even seem to have the energy to be excited for it. There is now a power room, a lab, a storage room, and an observatory.

Just the other day, we were called together once again by the captains of the ship, dragging us to the observatory to reveal a new motive.

Each of us had been fashioned a sort of mechanical collar, and orally given a forbidden action. The forbidden actions are thusly: I cannot interact with a male until there is a murder. Takuma Mitsukuri must speak like Akomi until there is a murder. Izaya Fanróng cannot speak until there is a murder. Kai Schmutz must walk backwards everywhere until there is a murder. Saki Tazuka cannot touch water until there is a murder. Seojun Tsoi may not sleep until there is a murder. Josefina De Belasco must speak in rhyme until there is a murder. Runa Knightly cannot lie until there is a murder. This includes lies by omission as well as the refusal to answer a question. She must answer everything you are asked with complete honesty. Leonhard Vogel cannot leave F1 until there is a murder. Dmitri Cierzon cannot leave F2 until there is a murder.

These actions seem.. asinine, and unfair. Runa must simply not lie, while Saki, our excitable Sailor, cannot touch water? Even I seem to have been let off easy.

And it seems like these actions are complete unforgiving as...

Ah.. it’s.. so difficult... to recount.

Izaya, after simply reacting to pain, had been immediately punished for going against their forbidden action of not talking.

It seemed as if the collar had stabbed them from the inside, spewing blood so immediately and dramatically.

It was.. so sudden.. too sudden.. ah, my heart can’t take it....

I immediately locked myself into my bunker, and for once I’m thankful for my loneliness.

I have lots of time to myself. So.. I suppose that is why I decided to recount all of this.. or.. or at least one of the reasons.

I’m heartbroken, honestly. Without a murder, I cannot interact with my Knight nor my Love. Ah.. calling him my love is.. actually quite embarrassing, even on silent paper like this. Still, a part of me is.. reluctant to wish it.. but I hope something bad will happen.. such that I can be with them again.

Also, it’s perhaps bad to say as well, but I’m glad that Leonhard and Dmitri are split apart. Leonhard is.. my loyal knight, and I wish for nothing bad to happen to him. But he has grown a little more than fond of Dmitri lately and... it worries me. Dmitri is.. is someone who had the willpower to stab our classmate. I.. I simply don’t want Leonhard to be hurt.

Diary, I hope this isn’t too much to unpack. I.. can only hope things will be better soon, but with the current circumstances.. I can only feel dread... and fear... what’s going to happen to us?

I must stay hopeful.. or.. at least try to.

Yours dearly, Chiyo Oshiro

[davidthetraveler]

David’s Bio-Monday:  The Other Side of Me

Hey guys.  So I haven’t done this in a while, and for that I apologize.  But I got a great ask the other day that would work perfectly as a Bio-Monday post, so I’m bringing it back.  Get ready, because today you’re going to meet...

My Sides

I’ve already started using them in some of my comments and reblog posts, but I haven’t done much to actually describe them to anyone besides the people in one particular Discord server, and that was so long ago they probably don’t remember.  But that’s okay, because you’re all getting to meet them now.

One thing you should note first off is that I have five sides, not four.  I carefully considered all the important aspects of myself, and found that I could not simplify them down any further than having five sides (not counting Dark Sides, which is not something I’ll be discussing here).  So bare with me on that.

Duane, my Morality

My oldest side is my Morality, Duane.  He represents my sense of right and wrong as well as my emotions and empathy.  He also represents my strong sense of platonic, familial, and universal love.  He cares deeply about others and is definitely the Parent Friend part of me, combining both the careful awareness of the Mom Friend and the calming support of the Dad Friend.  But he can also be rather silly, though that alternates with a more stoic nature that he has taken on as I’ve grown older.

His name comes from a family name, which is also where he gets his look.  He tends to wear plaid button-down shirts with khaki pants and a belt, like my dad used to wear everyday at school.  He has his hair tied back in a loose ponytail, though he will sometimes let it hang free if he’s tired.

Duane appeared very early on and is the oldest, though his appearance and name didn’t become finalized until I hit puberty.  He is the least changed of my sides in regards to how he used to act, though he has become somewhat more reserved as I’ve matured.  He has also gone through a number of crises as I’ve reevaluated my personal beliefs and opinions concerning the world, including a major one when Dudley arrived.  But like the best people these have only made him stronger in the long run.

When he’s not cooking for the others in the mindscape kitchen, he is most often found in the commons, rewatching old shows and movies I’ve seen, or helping with the others’ various issues.  He’s a great listener, and will never judge you or your problems.

Dalton, my Creativity

The next side to appear was Dalton, my Creativity.  He is solely responsible for maintaining and running my imagination.  He also is the part of me that most expresses a desire for a romantic partner, often creating elaborate scenarios in my mind portraying myself meeting someone and living a life with them.  His creations can sometimes be a little overbearing in my mind, but he’s learned how to keep them in check when I need to focus on other things.

Dalton wasn’t sure at first what his name should be, but after considering the options (since he wanted to have a D-name, like Duane and myself), he went with Dalton, as it’s very similar to Walt (as in Walt Disney).  His clothes are the most variable, though his most common outfit is a set of navy blue wizards robes.  He keeps his hair tied back with a blue ribbon (not unlike Prince Adam from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast).

Dalton has been around the second longest, and is the second least changed of my sides.  While he has become less exuberant as I’ve matured, especially after Dudley arrived, he still continues to create and explore various imaginative and creative ideas for me to use in my writings.  He has recently entered into a partnership with Dewey to pursue my most recent creative endeavor:  song writing.

When not doing that, he maintains the vast universe of stories I still keep in my head, and entertains the others with the various people, places, and things that he creates.  He’s the storyteller of the group, and knows just what kind of story you need to feel better.

Dewey, my Knowledge

Unlike the other sides, Dewey and Dexter started out as a single side:  my Intelligence.  But with the onset of puberty, the two primary aspects of my Intelligence went to war with each other over whether knowledge or reasoning was more important.  When my Reasoning half of Intelligence finally declared that it was the most important part of my mind, and that all the other parts were just getting in its way, my Intelligence split in two, becoming the two separate sides I now have.

Dewey was the side that separated from Intelligence to keep from being suppressed by the other half.  He represents every fact and piece of knowledge I’ve ever been exposed to, as well as my pacifist nature and my more reserved behavior when around others.  He cares deeply about the precision of language, and prefers to use proper grammar and punctuation, even when using an informal communication system.  He can sometimes get bogged down in the minutiae of situations, but will also help to keep me focused on the big picture.

Dewey chose his name from the Dewey Decimal System, as he is the part of me that most wants things to be neat and organized, and chose it to honor the one who created a system for organizing knowledge for the common man.  He generally wears solid-color button-down shirts under sweater vests with a bow tie and khakis, tending to appear like a quintessential nerd.  His hair is kept in a tight bun on the back of his head, though the more stressed he becomes, the looser it gets.  He is also the only side that still wears glasses, as the others that were present stopped after I had Lasik.

After he and Dexter split apart, he became the one who most insisted on quiet dignity in my dealings with others, in stark contrast to Dexter’s more arrogant and self-serving nature.  But he wasn’t able to counter Dexter’s influence very well until shortly before Dudley arrived.

He is the least emotionally aware of my sides, which makes him sometimes come off as cold.  But he cares deeply about the others, and when the need arises he can calm them down with facts about the world around them, which taps into their shared sense of wonder and curiosity.  He is the one who can keep them grounded in a tumultuous sea of emotions.

Dexter, my Reasoning

After Dewey split off, Dexter was forced to take on a new title, much to his annoyance.  He immediately went for my most pronounced mental gift:  my Reasoning.  He represents the part of me that can analyze and interpret data for any given situation, recognizing patterns and variables that others might miss, and process that information into a viable conclusion.  Because of this, he also has come to represent my self-assurance and even my ego, but this has also caused him to at times be the source of my arrogance.

Dexter chose his name after the classic smart boy name.  All aspects of my personality share my intelligence in some way, but he insisted on being the one to most represent it.  He wears a polo and blue jeans underneath a lab coat.  His hair is kept in a loose ponytail except when he’s performing an experiment, in which case it’s clipped to the back of his head.

Dexter is the one that’s changed the most since he appeared, having been the source of my arrogance for much of my youth.  He was not one to share the spotlight with any of the other sides, much to their chagrin.  He barely even acknowledged Dalton’s contributions to the ideas they created together, preferring to credit his extrapolation abilities.  It was not until... the unpleasantness... that he finally learned to reign himself in.  And the prominence to which Dudley would rise in my mind helped him to see the error of his ways, though it wasn’t until later that he found the right balance with which to work with the others.

Dexter is often found working on experiments and examining situations to figure out the best course of action.  But he still loves to shut down and enjoy mindless entertainment with the others.  He is also the one who can most often figure out what might be bothering the others when they themselves can’t quite piece it together.  He may not always show it, but he would do anything for the others.

Dudley, my Regret

Dudley represents my Regret, and as such is the part of me that looks back at my past mistakes on a regular basis.  But as he’s integrated himself as a healthy aspect of my mind, he has also come to represent my more sarcastic and defiant natures, as well as the part that most often recognizes things to avoid.

Dudley chose his name after the character of Dudley Dursley, remembering how he was a bully who came to regret his treatment of his cousin after being shown what he was really like by dementors.  He wears a dark blue hooded jacket over a polo and jeans.  He usually just lets his hair hang loosely.

Dudley is the youngest side, and has only been around for a few years.  But he was at least a part of my psyche since the beginning, like the others.  It was... the unpleasantness... that caused him to ascend to side status, and at first he was merely a Dark Side that the others couldn’t suppress.  He insisted on making me relive every mistake I’d ever made.  But after some time of reflection and growth, he was able to tame himself and integrate himself into the side family.  He now does his best to keep me aware of the negative consequences of my actions.

Dudley cares deeply about me and my sides, though he hides that care behind his sarcastic and somewhat depressive nature.  But whenever any of us needs it, he’s the one to point out all our mistakes in the past.  Not to show us how bad we are, but to remind us how much we’ve grown.  And we are more than happy to do the same to him.  He’s part of our family, and we wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Well, that was a lot of backstory I had to cobble together.  But it was definitely worth it.  I’m unlikely to use these guys in anything other than reaction comments (and maybe a oneshot, but that’s not high on my writer priority list right now).  But I thought it was a great exercise in exploring who I am as a person, and I think everyone should try it out to see what sides they’d get.

But anyway, I hope you found that interesting.  If you would like to, you can read my previous Bio-Mondays via the “Links to the Important Stuff” tab on my blog.  And if you want you can also be added to (or removed from) my new Bio-Monday tag list.  In any case, thanks for reading, and have a great week.

Tag List:

@ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @rose-gold-roman @asterias-confused-writings @alexthechaotic

[fullvoidmoon]

A “Little” Prank and a Soaked Tunic

Pairing/s: Thorin x (human!fem)reader

Setting/Timeline: The Quest to reclaim Erebor

Warning(s)/Genre(s): Fluff, implied smut

Word Count: 1,469

The Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings, The Durins, Any of the Company, Gandalf the Grey(mentioned), and Radagast the Brown(mentioned) © J.R.R. Tolkien Context © me

Inquired by @justcallmecinammon via ask.

Based on my imagine.

A/N: After 10,000 years, I’ve finally written a drabble/one-shot based on this particular imagine. And since I wrote this in a sudden spur of the moment and ideas kept rushing in my mind, I just realized I overdid it with its length. So sorry if there are any errors or if it doesn’t live up to your liking.

Thank you also to @ineedcaffine for the white button-up shirt idea ;)

The Hobbit tag list: @igotanaddixon @fizzy-custard @fromthedeskoftheraven @deepestfirefun @evyiione @mrs-thorin-oakenshield @life-is-righteous @sdavid09 @dreamsofrivendell @epicallychrissy @petals-overdaisies

Thorin II Oakenshield tag list: @fab-notfat

Permanent tag list: @imagines-for-multiple-fandoms @thepoet1975 @cd1242 @thegreyberet

Masterlist: HERE

You are 100 percent sure you are about to murder someone.

And by someone you are pertaining to the two numskulls that call themselves the Princes of the Durin’s folk.

It has been months since you joined the Company of Thorin Oakenshield upon the recommendation - more likely upon the insistent - of Gandalf the Grey; proudly telling everyone you’ve been friends with the Grey Wizard and has been both his and Radagast the Brown’s apprentice, making you knowledgeable about Middle Earth more than anyone among the race of Men.

Though you were welcomed with a mix of hesitation and prejudice among some members of the Company, you being a child of Man and a woman to boot, it never really deters your confidence and determination to prove your worth; that you can also stand your ground against orcs, wargs, and trolls, and your vast knowledge and mastery in the arts of magic and healing. 

“Are you alright Miss (Y/N)?” Ori, so sweet and thoughtful of him, asks as he hands you a towel to dry yourself, “oh I do hope you will not catch a cold.”

“I will be fine Ori,” you sigh, giving the youngest of the dwarves a reassuring smile while trying to dissipate the boiling irritation that currently runs through your veins. 

Relief is definitely an understatement to what you felt when the Company’s leader and rightful heir to the throne of Thrór finally accepted you among their ranks. Not just because you are getting tired of being ignored and shunned, but you also feel hurt.

You would never tell to any living soul, probably except Gandalf and Bilbo, what your heart does to you whenever his eyes, the bluest you’ve ever seen, would turn its gaze on you; staring at your very soul as chills run up and down your spine.

“What exactly happened, Miss (Y/N),” Ori softly inquires, immediately regretting his inquiry as he sees you seething almost instantly.

“It was the two Princes,” Dori interjects as he grabs another towel to dry your hair, “pouring ice cold water to the poor lass, the nerve of them.”

But never would you expect the two conniving princes, with ‘a little’ help of the sneaky bastard Nori, would have any idea about your deep affections for their Uncle and would do something to this extent; pouring a bucket of freezing water from a stream who knows where and dumping it all over you before leaving camp to find some more firewood.

“I swear to the Valar I might murder those two once they step one foot in this camp.”

And a pair of sapphire eyes staring intently at your form after witnessing the whole ordeal; the bluest of eyes slowly turns into its darker shade like the midnight sky.

-----

Thorin could not really say if he should be exasperated towards his rambunctious nephews, or if he should be thankful to what their rambunctiousness did.

He may not outwardly admit it, and may seem to be too stoic and harsh towards the only female among the Company; he could never deny what (Y/N) does to his heart, mind, and soul.

But somehow his sister’s sons saw something in his secretive glances and subtle actions, making them see his growing affections towards her.

“I truly apologize to what my nephews did,” Thorin says, trying to keep his voice even after offering (Y/N) some assistance to dry herself at a nearby creek.

“It is fine,” she replies, sighing after realizing her favorite tunic is too drenched than expected, “I guess I never thought Fili and Kili could really pull off something as troublesome as dumping ice cold water at someone.”

No matter how hard he would ignore his adoration for her, always reminding himself that the quest should be prioritized before anything else, the King Under the Mountain knows that (Y/N), a budding woman and the epitome of grace and kindness but filled with fire, bravery, wit, and courage, is no mere apprentice of two of Middle Earth’s guardians.

“Such a sight to behold,” Thorin whispers, aware that his gaze would not be averted as he traces (Y/N)’s curves at her back.

What Fili and Kili did to her, as he could still see droplets of water cascading down her neck, her thick locks wet and framing her flushed cheeks, and her body shaking, made him realize he may not hold his hidden desires for her any longer.

And her white, button-up tunic that clings on her body, making him see the soft, smooth skin under the now see-through clothing, makes his desires increase tenfold. 

“Did you say something Thorin?” (Y/N) asks, her flushed cheeks turning a darker shade of red as she tries to focus on getting herself dry.

Did he really say what she thinks he said?

Though (Y/N) couldn’t deny her wishful thinking of the Dwarvenking loving her in return, never in her wildest imagination would Thorin think of her in such suggestive ways; no matter how enticing it sounds like or how it forces that uncomfortable but pleasurable knot to tighten in her stomach down to her nether region.

(Y/N) would be lying if she continues to stubbornly tell herself it is just her wishful thinking playing such tricks; trying to deceive her that he truly said what she heard him said.

And Thorin couldn’t help but let the warmth of his love and adoration, and his growing desire, for (Y/N) envelope his heart and soul as he watches her struggling with her inner thoughts.

“What makes you think so deeply,” he whispers, making (Y/N) break her reverie and not realizing he had come close to her, “for you not to hear what I said?” 

Thorin could feel (Y/N) shiver, goosebumps appearing on her skin as his warm, calloused fingers slowly tracing onto her arms; leaving feather-like but electrifying touches as its trails. If only (Y/N) knows how much he would love to have his lips grazing her smooth skin.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, Thorin,” (Y/N) softly replies, trying hard not to give out a whimper as she feels his warm breath blowing at the exposed skin of her nape.

The small crack in her voice is evident enough for him to be aware of her doubts, her insecurities holding her back and eating the confidence she exudes whenever her aid is needed among the Company; one of the many qualities he first saw in her that made him realize her worth as his One and Queen.

Thorin, always straightforward, firm, and strong in his commands, gives out a gentle whisper to her ear as his arms slowly wrap around her waist, “you doubt that my love and adoration for you exist.”

(Y/N) doesn’t reply, fully aware that her voice would betray her in voicing out her fears. But she places her hand onto his arm, giving it a light squeeze as a sign of affirmation.

“I am truly sorry amrâlimê,” Thorin says, surprising her for never has she heard him apologize to anyone in the past months, “but please do not mind this fool of a dwarf.”

(Y/N) could feel his lips again grazing on her now heated skin, this time giving it soft kisses and light nips that makes her feel hot; making her forget the chills her soaked tunic is giving her and her desire to change into a dry one, making her ignore her rational mind screaming profanities at her to not succumb into her desires and wishes.

How could she ever resist such temptation when all she dreams every night is of Thorin’s rough hands running up and down her sides as he presses her firmly against him; hearing him whispering sweet nothings and suggestive notions to her ear as he grinds his hips on her.

“I have always wanted to do this,” (Y/N) hears Thorin’s husky voice behind her own whimpers, “hold you, caress you; shower you with love and adoration that only I could give.”

“You can,” she whispers back, turning around and looking at him with hooded eyes, “if only you know what I’ve been dreaming of every night.”

Thorin couldn’t help but give off a smile, not just because he can now hold (Y/N) with no inhibitions and doubts and show her how much he could love her.

“Then let me take care of you from this night until our very last,” his growl suddenly invades her hearing as she is slowly laid down on the ground, making her nether region moist; his beautiful sapphire eyes filled with love and lust as it turns as dark as the night sky.

But because it took him long enough to realize there is nothing for him to worry about.

And all that it took him to confess is a ‘little’ prank and a soaked tunic.