#CHECK FOR THINGS THAT PHYSICALLY EXIST BUT HAVE NOT BEEN PERCEIVED YET | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theomnicode · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! What do you think about how the society in OPM accepts that King is the most powerful being in the world? While Saitama is hinted at what may become a danger to society if his strength were to become known? Considering that King has (accidentally and through his own fault) stolen Saitama's merits?

Sorry this one took a bit to answer, I had other business to attend to. This one is another long piece, but I dropped a tl;dr at the end lol.

Honestly though? I think it's perceptional bias.

Perception bias is a broad term used to describe different situations in which we perceive inaccuracies in our environment. It is a type of cognitive bias that occurs when we subconsciously form assumptions or draw conclusions based on our beliefs, expectations, or emotions.

There are several subtypes: Implicit bias: individuals hold attitudes towards people, or associate stereotypes with them, without being aware of this. Fundamental attribution error: individuals tend to blame their failings on circumstances around them, but consider that others are responsible for their shortcomings. Selective perception: expectations about people or situations affect perception.

King is revered as a strong hero and so people would accept and expect him to have strong abilities. Child Emperor pictures these abilities and describes them to King. (Cpt 152, Check) King is also tall, large and mysterious man who somehow exudes a strong aura of being strong willed, capable and a just person. But the public does not know him well enough to actually see through their bias: A physically weak and anxious man who just tries to live his life in peace, but who has heart of gold, wise beyond his years and incredible sense of justice.

Yet despite all this, I worry for King a lot, because the cognitive bias working against him is too strong, almost unnatural. It makes little sense about why this false image is so strong, considering he nor Saitama have THAT many actually proven feats on record or even publically observed. I mean, Saitama literally destroyed a meteor and got accused for it and killed Sea King and the public turned against him...and yet none of those actual, legitimate feats are being exaggerated to this degree like Charanko describes them as in Chapter 192: Level up.

Charanko's examples are so utterly ludicrous without a single shred of actual evidence that the utter shock being told they were lies of it was enough for him to at least start shaking off that cognitive bias and question his perception and seeking out the actual truth. The guy is completely overlooked as just being a weak nobody comic relief character archetype, but he is strong willed, like when he had the guts to attack Garou in direct confrontation.

But I mean, look at this thing, this is completely absurd. Where is the entirety of OPM people's critical thinking skills?

Who in their right mind would seriously believe rumours like solar system destroying level of bomb with a bonus black hole from some rando dude on the internet? Or King not having even been born yet, somehow being the second coming of christ itself?

Plus there is only one goddamn mythology piece in this entire manga that even closely fits the bill of a human(oid) character's birth being foreshadowed and that is OPM's God's mural in a place where literally nobody has seen it before.

Who the F would even be crazy enough to imagine up and spread such a rumour that King, of all people, is actually OPM God who legit nobody even knows exists? So absurd. :D

(Above image is from volume redraw)

It's such a malicious and cruel rumour too, capable of sowing distrust and discord in the entire Hero system when people stop believing in their heroes because they think the entire system is a lie. And they would blame King for it, thinking he's to blame for the lies because he broke their idea of an hero fantasy.

The only hero I can think who actually knows about OPM God is Blast, but he's not malicious. Zero motive whatsoever.

I heavily suspect Psykos for spreading it because this kind of rumour could only come up straight from the source itself. Because she's an alarmist (Cpt 175, Visitor) and OPM God has her in his backpocket to emotionally manipulate. Fubuki might uncover some more information to discover the truth, but I'd take it with grain of salt because Psykos appears to be under some kind of mental illness, possibly psychosis, as Fubuki has pointed out that she had never been a tough girl and something changed her. But I'm no detective and I'm not void of any bias, so here's a sherlock holmes quote:

"How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? We know that he did not come through the door, the window, or the chimney. We also know that he could not have been concealed in the room, as there is no concealment possible. When, then, did he come?"

Honestly, the magic man in the sky is prolly doing it, we just don't know how because there's not enough evidence, only context clues.

-*-

Bang on the other hand, cannot shake off his bias even if his heart is in the right place. But he was just directly told face to face by King himself that he is weak and he still refuses to believe it because he stubborny keeps believing in his own biases, thinking he's always correct.

Old people do oftentimes think they're always correct don't they? Because they're oh so old and wise and experienced. He does the same thing with Garou and Garou won't accept it.

-*-

Anyways, I worry for King's flailing mental health for reasons because he's thinking about self-harm and he wants to unalive himself by monster hand because he thinks it's already Game over for him.

The cognitive bias around people's minds is actually and ironically, shielding him from the cascading effects of the mass public outcry since he's not ready to face it yet. He lacks willpower, that mental fortitude, to withstand that kind of attack on his psyche. He might do it if people suddenly just snapped out of that cognitive bias.

Some might even say... that he's the cognitive bias itself. King can bullshit so effectively because he's can literally project bullshit out of his every orifice if he needs to. If say, he needs to protect himself or other people. And as long as people keep their cognitive biases, it would help him sustain the image that he's strong and not be hated by everyone if they suddenly snapped out of their cognitive bias. So you could say that...the cognitive bias is helping him survive and protecting him.

A cognitive bias is a systematic pattern of deviation from norm or rationality in judgment. Individuals create their own "subjective reality" from their perception of the input. An individual's construction of reality, not the objective input, may dictate their behavior in the world. Thus, cognitive biases may sometimes lead to perceptual distortion, inaccurate judgment, illogical interpretation, and irrationality.

Look, they're instantly second guessing themselves. Seems to be working very effectively. And Atomic Samurai did some incredible mental gymnastics to convince himself that just by sitting there, King just casually cut the apple even when he saw nothing and nothing literally happened in front his very eyes. (Chapter 189, Blade test.)

At least he has Saitama at his back, because Saitama has a bullshit radar a mile wide and Saitama believes he can change to be stronger. He respects King's opinion to do what is right despite knowing he lacks real power to be that force of change himself. He does not appear at a glance to show implicit bias towards King. He originally saved the guy just because he needed saving and then did it again, despite not knowing a thing about King, aside from the assumption that he must be a strong hero, even if he was asking for information to form an opinion. And then tries to dig deeper into that and questions the logic of King running away and showing lack of bias with his objectivity. (Chapter 38, King)

So as long as Saitama believes in King, he probably won't come to any real harm. But Saitama also has to believe in his own ability to actually help King if the need arises and act upon it, because otherwise it'll just be 166 chapter redux in the absolute worst case scenario.

-*-

So, about perceptive biases towards Saitama, they come out in negative light by default unless proven wrong by him directly.

I'll let the following panel demonstrate. (Chapter 55.7, Sense, vol 20 Extra)

The judge became immediately biased without any reason and attacked his integrity and pretended to know all about him when he actually knows nothing, despite this being ONLY a hero suit contest, not a character judgement and ignoring Saitama's explanation to why he likes to wear what he wears.

The judge won't acknowledge what he saw with his plain eyes as he refuses to believe what happened, Genos is showing different kind of bias because he too, is biased in favour of Saitama and thinks Saitama should win a hero suit contest just because he's strong, despite objectively having a really bland and cheap outfit even HE didn't like. Like a cosplay contest gone wrong if the judge just picks their favourite without any objectivity to their actual suit or performance and what is the point of the judging in the first place. Other people, despite cheering him on...show their true facets with their snide negative comments with their leaps of logic, attempting to tear him down for his good deed and nobody criticises them.

Now for a different kind of perception bias. (Chapter 16, Passed the exam)

Chewing gum might on a first glance, seem very disrespectful when towards authority figures who want your full attention because it inherently implies that the person is too busy chewing gum rather than paying attention, thus creating bias.

However the act of chewing gum in a situation where one wants to study and retain information has been seen as beneficial by studies.

Turns out, chewing gum may have more effects than simply making your breath smell good, or giving you something to do when bored. In fact, some studies show chewing gum can actually increase feelings of relaxation, increase attention, lower stress levels, and improve memory.

Saitama has shown even at the early stages of his teenager years that he DOES actually possess the attention span to study...as long as the subject actually interests him and he has selective interests. Despite all the chatter around him, he's able to tune them out and focus on his study. Give him something really dry and boring that just won't seem to stick and his attention span will waver, because attention is a resource to be managed.

Things like studying psychology can have their humble beginnings often in the interest in what affects human health, because personality types who are keen about bettering others like knowing what makes people tick in order to help them.

So it can be assumed that Saitama, knowing he has a poor attention span in boring seminars but has studied the subject before, anticipated this and simply brought chewing gum to help him focus just a bit more. Unfortunately, Snek became hostile to him and Saitama completely lost his focus and his attention wavered. This is how negative perception bias affects Saitama in his everyday life.

Another example of this selective attention span is where he watches the television because he's also interested in bettering the world as a whole, again because he likes helping other people and it brings him satisfaction. He often watches tv as an adult as well, to the point of doomscrolling. He even has Mob Psycho shirt on, a nod to ONE's other series to show that he's very empathic at his core. (Chapter 8.5, 200 yen, Vol 1 extra)

However, it is also shown that Saitama is incredibly sensitive to baseless judgement, hostility, bias and outside influence and he will get defensive and angry when faced with such and when challenged. (Meteor and Sea king fiasco) People like this who also have high moral integrity like Saitama has shown time to time again, also care great deal about their reputation in other's eyes, because it shows to them if they are doing a good job or not in their moralistic actions. Like a peer review.

Not getting any good feedback and instead met with various levels of hostility just conditions them to not try at all because they think it's their fault that everyone is against them. So Saitama early on has been faced with conditioning and now for instance, he thinks he just can't learn anything new even if he made an honest attempt. He has become insecure and self-critical and will think of himself in a negative light. (Stagnation and growth, chapter 76.) He has effectively build cognitive biases about himself and his true identity.

Here is Saitama attempting to unravel the cognitive bias around himself because he made a self-discovery. King, in his infinite wisdom, gives Saitama some objective perspective when Saitama immediately wants his second opinion about his perspective surrounding this new discovery. King, bless his heart, attempts to genuinely help Saitama but he misses the point of the discussion when Saitama was trying to see if he could bounce his ideas around, such as throwing a video game analogy to King that Saitama knows he SHOULD understand well. Saitama is just very poor at expressing his words due to his upbringing and loneliness and detatchment from emotions, especially without properly parsing it out first. He often thinks a lot louder than he seems to talk, which is why he's often misunderstood.

That is, unless he apparently connects on a deep level like with Genos and then the two of em could talk about anything and everything that comes to mind for days or until they run out of breath lmao. (Maji Drama CD vol 1, Saitama makeover)

King's perception bias towards Saitama is because he just does not know him well enough and his perspective is a bit skewed because of media influence that bring him comfort for his own emotional loneliness...because Saitama is always hung up about something or another because he has so much issues it hurts. King just does not see it or is not willing to believe "Super strong Saitama" could possibly have any issues since Saitama hides them well.

Saitama has far too much free time to think and ruminate, but his own cognitive biases stop him from seeing his true self without all the negativity surrounding him. The negativity of things such as his upbringing as a lonely boy who's sensitive to hostility. (Chapter 15.5, Brushing up, vol 2 extras)

-*-

Perception bias also serves another more...sinister purpose for Saitama. Psychological conditioning. There is potential evidence for deprivation of basic needs, conditioning for violence for protection and subliminal messages for suggestion, among other things. I won't go into details because I'm afraid of also potentially spoiling stuff, so I'll keep the suspense. :D

Here's maslow hierarchy of needs pyramid that explains about our intrinsical needs as human beings to have wellness in both body and mind.

Being deprived of all these needs is akin to mental torture. But so is facing all of the underlying issues at once via hypnotherapy and cognitive behavioural therapy if the patient is sufficiently dysfunctional in a societal setting like Saitama happens to be. Especially if the therapies are performed...poorly.

CBT has shown to be the most effective intervention for people exposed to adverse childhood experiences in the form of abuse or neglect Criticism of CBT sometimes focuses on implementations (such as the UK which may result initially in low quality therapy being offered by poorly trained practitioners. However, evidence supports the effectiveness of CBT for anxiety and depression. Evidence suggests that the addition of hypnotherapy as an adjunct to CBT improves treatment efficacy for a variety of clinical issues. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and its symptoms have been shown to improve due to implementation of hypnotherapy, in both long and short term. As research continues, hypnotherapy is being more openly considered as an effective intervention for those with PTSD.

In short, in order to heal mentally, Saitama may need to face mental torture because he has such strong willpower and such strong mental barriers shielding his vulnerabilities on a basic primal need. He can essentially dip himself on lava and ignore the shock reaction from the extreme heat (Chapter 112, Sacrifice) and does not even need to breathe in space and does not notice the extreme cold or pressure of space nor the sun's harmful rays, that's how strongly he shields himself from outside influence. (Saitama vs Garou fight, cpt 167-168) But there only needs to be a sufficient trigger.

ONE sent Saitama home to restore his energy levels in Chapter 197, What only I can do...because he's going to sorely need them for the upcoming confrontation.

Empty Void's ability to genjutsu people casually and cause parallel shifts in the reality and using these to abuse emotional dependencies is like a loaded Chekov's gun on Saitama's forehead. Because Saitama has been roleplaying to re-learn his emphatic skillset after he had suffered too much mental trauma and he's done that a lot with Genos just via interaction. I heavily suspect that Saitama's emotional regulation and empathy suffered when he became too strong and he was emotionally blunting himself.

So, if they so happened to use Genos against him and trigger his PTSD, there's no telling how Saitama will react.

Saitama more than likely has some mental illnesses like disorders and at the very minimum PTSD, not just depression, which can be used maliciously against him and the entire OPM world. There is one more thing about psychological conditioning, but I'm not gonna say it out loud here on this meta, I'm afraid to spoil it. :p *rubs hands gleefully*

There is also a high chance that if he's stressed enough and sleep deprivated enough, he could honestly go into psychosis if the entire world suddenly turned on him because he's sensitive to criticism and hostility.

Psychosis is a condition of the mind or psyche that results in difficulties determining what is real and what is not real. Symptoms may include delusions and hallucinations, among other features. Additional symptoms are incoherent speech and behavior that is inappropriate for a given situation. There may also be sleep problems, social withdrawal, lack of motivation, and difficulties carrying out daily activities. Psychosis can have serious adverse outcomes.

That's where he would truly become a danger to both himself and the entire Earth he's living on if he starts to have delusions, hallucinations and becomes out of touch with reality and also paranoid. So unless Saitama's mental health is adressed in a proper environment, he's a ticking time bomb till someone pulls the trigger on that PTSD and other issues he has. Empty Void can easily do exactly that by abusing his attachment to Genos in a cruel way, just like he tried to do with Flash and Sonic, starting from Chapter 200, Void.

Even seemingly normal, kind and well-adjusted people at the core can become very unpredictable when under high amount of duress and psychosis.

As underlined above, everyone always seems to default to the negative viewpoint of Saitama due to their perception biases and if Saitama's true strenght became more know...public would outright fear him simply because they cannot understand the scale of how powerful Saitama actually is, abnormally strong. Like they'd suddenly become prey to some unknown entity. Add in Saitama becoming more and more loose with his inhibitions from things like sleep depression and they'd have a huge mess in their hands.

Even Garou who fought against Saitama with everything he has, is completely shocked about how insane Saitama's abilities are, because they defy physic laws like it's nothing, so Garou goes "This is insane! What the hell IS this monster!?" when Saitama sneezed jupiter apart. (Awakening of the gods, chp 168)

Saitama has also shown dubious morality by attempting to punch and kill Garou to avenge Genos, but not really thinking or caring that the entire Earth would become collateral damage like Blast mentions as he portals and contains the explosion in Earth atmosphere. Chapter 166, Squared & Cpt 167, I.o) Saitama's mental state, when normally calm and seemingly well-adjusted, was thrown out of the window when he saw Genos died on him and has now become a PTSD trigger. He literally vented out all that anger in his fist in a massive clash of divine power, as told by the Blastice league.

So if perception bias surrounding Saitama was to turn sideways and he'd get dumped the pressure of the world against him, the consequences might become...bad. Saitama needs to be able to regulate his emotions far better in order to withstand mass scale attack from public opinion. Otherwise ONE is playing with fire with Saitama's mental health state, because he does NOT react well to criticism an such and will lash out like he did during the meteor incident, but far worse.

Thus, a danger to society.

-*-

Tl;dr: King has always been viewed in positive light so people perceive his powers as good thing and non-threat because they believe King is a great hero, whereas Saitama has always been surrounded by negative preconceptions about whatever he seems to be doing and public opinion about his hero status is not good, so Saitama busting out his massive, unknown power would instead cause uproar and mass scale panic that someone is even capable of such.

Thanks all for reading and thank you itsmaferart for this question. :)

#opm #one punch man #saitama #opm king #opm meta #perceptional bias #conditioning #mental health #charanko #opm Bang #Psykos #cognitive bias #my own work #psychology #maslow hierarchy of needs #long post

24 notes · View notes

pupintransit · 11 months ago

Text

Last week marked my return to work following my gender affirming surgery and it was surprising in ways i hadn't anticipated.

A few things have been easy to predict. For one, getting used to a less active lifestyle while on medical leave definitely impacted my stamina. Once i have a few more paycheques under my belt I'll splurge on a gym membership to work back up to pre-surgery levels. New clients and new coworkers were also pretty easy to see coming, but I'm fairly personable all things considered so that won't be too much of a challenge. Instead, what i believe i'm experiencing is a culture shock.

The first signal that things were gonna be a little different was the office bathroom. I don't know if it was because of the design of the toilet or how my body was shaped, but p when i sat down to pee when i was pre-op i had to aim my dick down more toward the bowl in case my stream did the thing (y'all penis havers know what i'm talking about), lest it hit the rim of the toilet. Obviously this is no longer a problem I have but subconsciously I found myself guiding my hand down to aim a penis that was no longer there. I think it was muscle memory being triggered from using the space when i was pre-op cuz i haven't had that experience before now. It was weird!

Something else that has been perculiar is that i think for the first time i've really been cognizant of my lack of cock and balls. I think it's because i'm up and about every morning instead of only when i had to go somewhere like when i was on med leave. Walking around with a buldge in my pants was distracting and upsetting because i was always aware it was there in a way that cisgender men simply are not. I don't know if it's because i'm out and about more often or if it's because seeing my workplace again prompted those memories to emerge again, but i catch myself occasionally feeling like i should have that discomfort. Like it's weird that don't have the hyperawareness anymore.

That's different from gender euphoria for me. It's more like a reverse dysphoria if that makes sense? The lack of a negative stimuli sometimes causes me to feel uncomfortable. Which is such a wild concept for me! I feel happier and more at peace with my body except for certain instances when i'm reminded that my body doesn't make me miserable anymore.

Weird for different reasons was hearing, seeing, and speaking my dead name again. I dont typically talk about the social aspect of my transition as often as the physical side, but for reference I am out and open as nonbinary. My friends know, my parents know, and the coworkers i had before going on med leave (as well as the few that are still around) knew. Despite my very masculine gender presentation i am perceived as transgender by the majority of the people I interact with.

On med leave i barely used my dead name at all, but because i wanted to wait until my name is legally changed before updating my work info it's still the same. Which means i have to intro all my emails and phone calls with a name i'm not longer used to hearing. It also means that the newer staff members who i don't have a vibe with to feel comfortable coming to just yet also call me by that name. Of course they would, it's on all my paperwork.

When I first started using my current name it felt foreign, almost like i was lying to people when i introduced myself to them. Obviously I'd been using my dead name my entire life up to that point so it was as much an adjustment for me as it was for other people. Now, having been in a lifestyle where my dead name essentially didn't exist, i feel something akin to culture shock to hear spoken again. Where previously my current name felt inauthentic and made me feel awkward, my old name now feels borderline offensive and is kind of a bummer to still use.

Now luckily the bosses and coworkers that i'm out to have universally been the chillest people about it. They put in an effort to use my current name over my legal name, and have checked my pronouns if they weren't sure. It helps that i work for a company that's essentially a charity organization, which attracts a lot of progressive-minded individuals. I can't say for certain i would have had the same affirming environment if i were still working in construction labour or hospitality, and i recognize that's not a luxury everyone has. Don't feel like you have to come out at work if you don't feel safe to!

Anyway.

It's been a smooth enough transition back to work for me. I never thought i'd say it but i was looking forward to going back. It was starting to get pretty boring being stuck at home!

#introspection #gender dysphoria #transition journey #trans #transgender #non binary #enby

10 notes · View notes

populationthree · 1 year ago

Text

hey chat what if i just put an entire chapter of a book im writing underneath the cut? That would be pretty funny I th

CHAPTER 1: CHRYSANTHEMUM

001 - DREAM

Soft—my grasp around his body felt nothing but. With my fingertips gently grazing against the material of his clothings, I could barely stand to perceive myself as myself. For all I cared, I was nothing but a set of hands.

But he stood right on front of me; I could perceive him. At first I couldn’t stand to stare into his feline eyes. No living man holds natural yellow eyes; everything about him was wrong. Yet, here I was. My yearning body threw itself to siphon whatever warmth exists on him. Seconds pass, I weep into the crook of his shoulder. My arms tightly bend around his body while my hands idly brush against the fur of his tail. I can’t seem to figure out how I got in this situation, but one of his hands softly strokes through my hair. For what it was worth, he made my hair feel like fine silk.

There was something about how stagnant he was—I could explore to my heart’s desire. Any of my burning passions which weakened me from the inside were nothing but paint to his blank state. I can’t tell if he stares at me with apathy, sympathy, or any empathetic qualities. I’m not sure if he can tell how desperate I am as a person.

“What am I?” Words barely escape my mouth as I look up towards him. “Really?”

He doesn’t move—he doesn’t budge. While my hands delicately feel against his bony ribs hidden underneath his skin, I’m barely able to cause a reaction. When was this a game? No matter how hard I try, any attempt at physical touch is muted in response. I’m hopeless, mainly, but I’m greedy.

While my hand gently sifts through his hair, another hand holds up his chin as my tear-stained eyes lock on to his. Never before have I felt so comfortable looking directly at his eyes. I know he can read my thoughts—I see him softly shake his head as a thought comes to my mind, “No.”

I whine, I weep. Why can someone so moldable like him hold limits? Desperately, my hands stick in place as I push my body closer to his. In response, he only steps backwards to push space between us. I’ll never understand him. He waits until I exhaust every last tear from my disheveled body before he brings me in close with one of his hands rubbing against my back in circles.

“I’m sorry” I repeatedly stammer. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He lifts my head up, making sure he has my attention. He waits until I cease my sobbing and truly admire his face. The silence after was hell. Never in my life has the absence of noise been so deafening.

“I am your limit.” He speaks. “I only allow for you todo what you’ll do to yourself. Truly, do you write of the things you think?”

Louder—yet stagnant. Words fail to piece themselves together as a coherent thought departs with each mirage of hope. My hands are greedy, yet his grasp is stronger. After a while, I realize he never anticipated a vocal answer from myself. In all honesty, he waited for the thoughts to align in a way he desired them to.

He was perfect. I look up to him with lust—if anything. His slim body, his long and bushy tail, his soft face, his pointy fox ears. Sometimes, I can only salivate. Sometimes, I can only dream of what I could do to him.

“So, what are we waiting for?”

Me, Myself, and I. Always, and forever will be.

002 - PRELUDE

“Don’t you have your own bed?” he reminds me while twirling his own hair, “You’re paying more than me for all of the bills, I don’t see why you need to share the bed with me here and now.”

As he spoke, I sat on the edge of his mattress with both my hands and feet pressed against his blankets. While considering his words, my expression lightly soured while I kept my attention towards him. With a simple reposition, I fix my limbs to sit in a quadrupedal position.

Danilo softly scoffed at my display as he checked the curtains within the room. All of the windows were blacked out by an opaque curtain, preventing any moonlight from pouring in. After the observation, he would adjust himself underneath the sheets of his bed while speaking, “Are you having one of those nights, Dani? If it helps you sleep tonight, sure. Get in.”

I excitedly burrow within the bed as I hastily draped the bedsheets above me. While Danilo worked on fixing the mess I made with the sheets, I wrapped my arms around his body while resting my head underneath his chin. My legs quickly snake around his while I involuntarily let out soft whimpers and whines.

“Settle down, settle down…” he softly reassures me while sifting his fingers through my hair, “You’re gonna have to talk if you want to sleep with me tonight. I know you don’t want to, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Tomorrow…” I pleaded, “let me sleep now…”

“Tonight, tell me what’s up tonight. What happened? Did you have another bout of insecurity.”

“Yeah… I did.”

“Oh, come on. The whole world isn’t out to get you. You know that, right?”

For an extended period, I would look up to him with my undivided attention. I made sure to keep my glance focused with my extraneous motions held still—all for emphasis.

“Okay,” Danilo surrendered, “the town may completely turn on you, but you’re safe here. You always know that.”

After his reassurances, he continued to weave his fingers through my delicate hair as another hand reached over to gently rub against my back in circles. His exhales and inhales slowed with each breath while his eyes closed in concentration.

Meanwhile, I could feel my negative feelings melting from my body. My intense shaking—throughout my whole body—gradually diminishes while I focus on the warm touch of his skin. I couldn’t help myself but to softly rub my cheek against his chest.

“You know I care about you, right?” Danilo continued to sift his hand within my hair, almost as if he was searching for something. “I have my boundaries, you know that. I still go to work—but it’s all to protect you.”

“Are you saying that just to make yourself feel better?” I questioned, “or do you genuinely mean it?”

“What?” For a moment, Danilo halted with his motions while looking down towards me. “No, why would you think that? Do you think I get some type of reward for cultivating you?”

“That’s what I feel everyone does…”

“Come on—everyone? What about Laque? You two hang out together every week or so. You’re always coming back with something fun to say.”

“Well… you’re right. I don’t think he’d do all that to betray me.”

“And Cheese? You’ve know him since you were kids. Granted, he’s known you before you’ve had the curse, but you two are still friends as if nothing ever happened.”

“Yeah, him too. I guess he’s not out for me either.”

“See? It’s your insecurities messing with you. I don’t think anything wrong about you, either. Although, I do find you a little strange at times.”

I furrow my eyebrows as I look back up to Danilo. Without any words, my expression quickly shifts to that of confusion as I try and understand his words. One of my hands lifts from his body as I purposefully pull his own hand from my hair. “What do you mean strange?”

“Well, don’t take it in a bad way,” Danilo continues, “I’ve never met anyone who purposefully acts like an animal and generates a suspicious amount of money through revealing images on the internet.”

“There’s an audience for everything!” I exclaim, “it’s not like anyone in the town can even pinpoint who I am. I’ve never shown anyone the interior of our house, and I conceal my face and any identifying marks. Don’t think you’ve got something to stand on just because you have a nine to five.”

After I spoke, a silence grips against the interior of the room as I watch Danilo’s face shift in contemplation. With his now free hand, he reaches over towards the side of the bed to grab a small, black remote. With his thumb idly combing over the multiple buttons spread across the stick.

“I never said that was bad,” he soon responds, “if anything, I find it interesting you use your curse productively like that. I don’t fully understand it, but I respect it.”

I return the same, puzzled stare back up at him as I did moments prior. “Are you saying the right words just to make me feel happy?”

“That’s never been my intention, and you know that.”

“Right, thanks, Danilo.”

“I’m your roommate for a reason. Do you want to watch a show to cheer yourself up?”

Almost immediately, I would scramble up from under the sheets to sit on top with my focus placed towards the screen in front of the bed. As Danilo repositioned himself to rest his back on the wooden back of the bed, I laid back with my head returning to lay on his chest.

While he repositioned his hand to resume his previous routine, he would simultaneously navigate through the television’s channels. With quick eyes, he read off the title of the shows and movies while flicking through the catalogue.

Against the television’s chaotic noise, I suddenly spoke aloud, “You’re still okay with what happened Saturday night, right? Are you mad or anything?”

“What?” He quickly broke his concentration to reply, “no, of course not. If anything, I enjoyed it.”

Once he finished speaking, I could feel my body sinking deeper into his blanket-covered body as his words echoed around in the front of my mind. The looping thoughts resounded with joy as my mind was put into a great ease.

While I was occupied with Danilo’s response, he would settle down on a rerun of a program we both watched together. Once he placed the remote back on the nightstand, Danilo reached his arm around my chest as he rested his elbow on top of my shoulder. All I could do now was gradually fix my focus to the show as his words floated around with no signs of stopping.

003 - PARTY

The night sky blinked with multicolored sparks, raining down its vibrant lights with a trail of smoke to follow. Chaotic bursts of noise scattered themselves among the plentiful stars—a distant cousin briefly staying in their celestial family’s residence. As these sparks fought for dominance against the dark clouds and chipped moon, they reigned supreme across the night sky.

December 31st, 20XX. The year of the animal was just around the corner. The final grains of sand slid through the top half of the hourglass. Twenty minutes of impending change. All of the houses illuminated their vibrant lights as the asphalts of the neighborhood streets were alight to the festive spirit contained within these houses.

Nested in the suburban sprawls of Normal was a chateau which reigned upon the upper middle class. Gates with a gem resembling a family crest locked the ordinary man from the loudest party in the city. Partygoers from around the Penumbran Strip gathered to celebrate the end of a simple era and to welcome in the joys of new beginnings.

And where was I among all this? Sat in the bustling mansion tucked away in the quietest spot of them all. A maid’s closet—that’s what I assume, anyway. Moments prior I stole a handful of unopened bottles of wine from the never-ending snack table placed in the foyer. What was a hassle for me was nothing more of a margin of error for the host.

Laque, the host. It’s not that I desire him, I cherish him as a friend. Sometimes, however, I don’t know when to say no. Every year, I find myself accepting an invitation to the largest party in the Strip. And for each party, I’m always within the closet kept to my own devices. I understand why he invites me—we’ve known each other for so long. In comparison to even the poorest guests, I reside as a stark outlier.

The taste of alcohol was present with each swig. Before, I would steal an equal amount of soda to held the taste. Now, I simply don’t care to hide the taste. It’s what I deserve—my punishment. Why trap yourself in the grandest social event in the area. Stepping outside was a dangerous game considering how glass windows stripped any and all privacy of the chateau’s interior.

The light in here was good enough. A fluorescent bulb kept overhang with a thin chain as a switch. This is as best as it gets, sometimes. I’ve nestled a blanket and pillow in here, sometimes. Somehow, it remains within the closet even after a full year. I highly doubt people check this closet. It’s just an extra room blind to the experienced workers of the manor.

And then, there was a set of knocks. My heart immediately jumped out of my chest as my hands scrambled to hide the alcohol among the cleaning supplies. Despite this, the door slowly creaks open to reveal a man staring down at me. It wasn’t just any man, no. With his recognizable yellow eyes and shaggy, brown hair; I could recognize his face from across the manor if the circumstances allowed.

“You know,” he starts, “I’m not surprised this is where you hide off to for these parties. I kind of forgot you’re on good terms with Laque.” My hands were shaking. While my fingers tapped away on the edges of the nearby shelves, my mind was racing to find any amount of words to say. Once the sentence formed itself in my mind—a perfect retort—I shoddily released the string of words in a trembling voice, “What are you doing at Laque’s party?!”

“I’m his cousin, remember?” He taps against his temple with his index finger. “Danilo Toru? Laque Toru? I’m nowhere near the fortune, but he still remembers I exist. Unlike his parents.”

After fumbling my own words, I quickly swiped my hands to the pillow stowed away within the closet. As I buried my face within the luxuriously soft material, I contorted the muscles in my face to hold back any tears. I hoped—I prayed—that the noise would quiet down into its muffled state. I awaited the sweet silence to return back to me. To hell with the destructive thoughts, it’s all I know.

A hand firmly grasped against my shoulder beyond my senses. As the noise outside quietened down to its muffled state, the hand would adjust itself upon my tattered shirt. Just in front of my pillow, his voice would pierce through the soft material, “You’re not gonna hide under your pillow all night long, you know.”

I slowly lowered the pillow down toward my legs after giving myself a moment to compose myself. Without another moment, Danilo would reach his other hand to press against my remaining shoulder. Afterwards, I was able to gain a glimpse at how he was standing. Both of his knees were on the ground as the legs down acted as support. With both of his hands grasped against me, he was able to lean forward a considerable amount.

“One step at a time,” he remarked, “Are you planning to hole yourself up in this closet until the sun breaks or do you want me to drive you home?”

For a moment, my mind quickly panicked. My hands left their grasp against the pillow as they wrapped around the wrist of Danilo’s arms. My body desperately conveyed its decision paralysis while my mouth remained silent.

Danilo would softly laugh at my display as he moved each hand off of my shoulder. While my wrists were wrapped around tight, he could still balance with his leaning position. “I’ll take you home. It’s okay. You don’t have to talk. But, I need to do a few things first.”

Immediately, I was confused. As my emotions calmed down, I mustered what words I could out from my mouth to respond, “What do you mean? How can you have errands at a party?”

“Well, I want to see the countdown at least. Laque’s down at the basement with his brother at the mini-bar. I certainly want to talk to him before we leave, but there’s not a lot of people either. If you’re comfortable with it, you can probably speak with him too.”

I slowly nod while I continue to listen.

“There’s no windows down there—you won’t have any contact with the moonlight. After we see the countdown, then we can leave. Sound good?”

Silently, I give a weak thumbs up before I push against the ground to stand back up. With Danilo’s help, we both push ourselves off the ground of the maid’s closet. While we’re both standing, he reaches one arm around my shoulder to keep me close as the remaining hand opens the door out to the rest of the chateau.

“Come on,” he reassures me, “I’ll always be here if you need anything.”

004 - SUMMARY

Work was exhausting. Every weekday starts before the sun rises and ends just as the natural light of the world fades upon the city. Most of my hours bleed away within the confines of a wholesale warehouse where I move boxes and direct customers and retailers alike. Nothing new happens within the scaffold-like walls, and sometimes I like it this way.

Personally, there’s a sort of satisfaction I get from the long hours. While my lineage prides itself on the inheritance of their hardly-working ancestors, I’ve broken that in a plea for satisfaction. Don’t get me wrong—I haven’t shunned myself from their generosity. I’d much rather gather my worth as a man by my own hands than what was provided to me. However, my name, Danilo, remains a part of me granted by my heritage.

Normal—love this town. Everyone here prides themselves on the extraordinary fact that nothing differs in this town. Once, this town was named Celeste—based on the founder of the city. Of course, this recently changed in favor of a surprisingly active tourism scene. Traps and attractions all surrounding the novelty of normality sell themselves as a getaway to the towns around them. I mean, I can’t blame them. Where else would I go to get away from it all when there’s a federal-enforced barricade around the Penumbran Strip.

The roads are packed most of the time. I remember nearly fifteen years ago when the roads were newly paved with asphalt. The procedure was slow and methodical. My father once told me about a time in the town’s history when dirt roads snaked through the town to small grocery stores and underfunded amenities. Now, this place is different. Sometimes I envy my father for living in his time. Yet, it’s hard to place if my envy is on a cause of these roads or for something greater.

I hear an onslaught of chatter among coworkers and customers alike in my hours. Some customers drive all the way to Normal due to the price of the goods. Why spend your money in a grocery store barely surviving against the town’s mandated horror than to spend it in bulk in a town known for its relative paradise? This process of thought feels rational, yet I can’t help but shake the thought of inevitable instability. At what point will this town remain as the only habitable location?

I can relate to the pride the residents share with this town. Imagine waking up one day and learning the rest of the now-called “Strip” was affected with this mysterious affliction—and you weren’t. You would assume you just won the lottery. Fate and divine alike marked an unfathomable amount of men to a newly created Hell in America and here you are—a blindspot in its wrath. At the end of the day, all of this clamoring reduces itself to a game of superiority. “Fate favors the wealthy”; a phrase which many men place upon this town. God bless it.

This town has yet to be hit by the suburban plague. The lack of an infrastructure and a desire has left most of the towns within the strip as immune. Yet, plagues mutate. Idle conversations and local news segments discuss the benefit of suburban neighborhoods. We have the budget—they state—we can support a project like this. I can’t wait to imagine how they pull it off.

In the meantime, I’ll spend the foreseeable future in my small one-story house nestled in the haphazard sprawl of individualized homes. The exterior is nothing to write home about—bland colored walls with windows closed off from the inside. A mailbox awaits at the edge of the concrete driveway, leading to a garage where I park my two-seater car within the protection of the elements. Once I shade my only vehicle within the garage, the bulky, metallic door slides down to hide it away from the sins of the world.

Waiting in the small fridge next to the entrance to my house is a set of carbonated beverages ready to grab from a brightly-colored box. With my canned drink in hand, I snap open the thin cover to release a swarm of bubbles to the top of my drink. I wasn’t expecting much to change with the house—why should it? But, there’s always a nagging feeling that something should change. The same routine of unwinding from a long day at work.

Yet, nothing would change. The house remains in one piece. I can hear the distant noise of the television’s broadcast from the living room all the way from the exit from the garage. If there’s any type of noise in the house, then my roommate, Dani, is asleep. The inverse to this observation is true, as well. With this information, you can infer how unsurprised I was when I found her asleep on the couch.

It’s hard to summarize who Dani is through a brief synopsis. Firstly, she’s my roommate. The summary could end there. However, there’s a lot more to her that provokes some further explanation. The reason she’s my roommate is through the efforts of my cousin, Laque. Those two have been friends ever since elementary school; they’ve been through thick and thin. When he proposed the idea to me, I never really understood where he was getting at. Out of all of the people, why me? Why not let her live in the mansion if you believe it so?

Of course, this was Laque. Sometimes, he has a hunch on certain ideas and insists it’ll work out in the end. I don’t think I’ve seen a premonition of his that hasn’t worked well. That, or he really wanted to see us get along well because of our similar names.

Secondly, Dani has an unusual connection to everything outside of this town. She’s developed a name for herself as a “persona”. Which, subjectively, I don’t particularly care about. If anything, I’m a little envious on how her prospects online pays better than my grueling full-time job. At some points, she’s offered to cover some of my expenses so I can work a part-time job. I’ve declined this, of course. It feels like she’s a projection of my family—some distant relative that’s still influenced by their arcane touch.

Thirdly, she has no sense of fashion or anything beyond basic hygiene. Thankfully, she showers often enough. From what I’ve last checked, her pointed teeth are whiter than my own. Her dirtied brown hair throws itself into a cacophony of shapes, yet it all remains unnaturally curly. All of her clothes are a mixture of white t-shirts, some sweatpants and an occasional jacket or two. From her minimalist wardrobe, there’s this style to her that would allow her to fit in to the slums of a metropolitan city.

Her favorite shirts—above all—are esoteric in-jokes involving unfathomable words. She tells me they’re all designed by her friends. It’s nice—I adore the charm—but it feels too “avant-garde” for me. Most of these shirts are covered by an orange hoodie whenever she goes outside, so I don’t believe most of the town sees the shirt’s displays.

Fourthly—and most distressing—Dani’s very touchy. If there was any indication of heritage, it would be her nonverbal body language. She always reaches over for hugs when she’s happy. She always wants a high-five for something that excites her. It’s strange, really. I’ve hailed from a family where contact between each other was kept for situations where it couldn’t be avoided. With her, it’s a completely different approach.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate how she displays herself. It’s always an aspect of her that catches me off guard. Over the time we’ve spent together as roommates, we’ve kind of bonded together more of friends if anything. She always indulges about her life with me—what she does and the history behind it all. Admittedly, I don’t have much to share back. It’s nice to sit down and listen, though. I’ve grown to enjoy the simple act of mildly caring for her. Not in a familial way, but something that draws compassion from somewhere I never knew was there to begin with.

When she first moved in, I was a little concerned with the adamant usage of blackout curtains. Every window in the house has a set of its own, and she always draws them shut around 4 pm. She told me I could open them whenever I wanted, but she couldn’t be in the same room.

Over the years, these little things compounded on themselves in a noticeable pattern. The next idea that struck me odd was her sharp teeth. Once, we were both in the bathroom cleaning it out and she briefly stopped to check her teeth in the mirror. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. Though this small detail slightly compounded.

Eventually, I realized how much she cared about eating meat. Dani had these specific preferences towards individualized brands, and there’d never be a deficit of any sort no matter the time of day. Alongside this, she always sleeps in her bed in a curled-up position. Obviously, the television inside her room would play a documentary of various subjects to keep her asleep.

It all compounded—the distaste for the night, the limited social gatherings, among others. Personally, I didn’t care. I’d be an ass of a person if I disliked how a functional adult lived their life. Over the months, I’ve debated with myself if I should even confront her about it. Especially now, she was very secretive about her external life. In contrast to her tendency to divulge every last detail of herself, it was the complete opposite when she first moved in.

One night, while we were both situated on the couch in the living room, I found myself unable to keep my eyes open while watching a familiar rerun of one of our favorite cartoons. As I sat myself up from the couch and yawned, I could hear Dani stuttering with her words for a little bit before sitting me down.

She disclosed the fact that she’s been meaning to tell me something for months. Dani planned out all of the reactions to what she was about to say—with her tidied bags, I admittedly thought she was going to move out soon and this was the heads up. But, she would bring up a question which completely blindsided me, “Do you know how each town has its own curse?”

I remember how puzzled I was at the question. Over the next minute, I thought of all of the curses each town had and how our town—Normal—was devoid of it. Within her shaking body and pre-planned words, Dani spoke about how she was the curse and how no one else in the town ever knew about it. The sharp teeth, hatred for the night, the fixation on meat—I was surprised how I didn’t catch on earlier. Fifthly, she was a werewolf.

In the moment, the information was a lot for me to process. While it had certainly replaced my views on this town and its stature, it would slowly dawn on me how significant the concealment of her secret would be. What if the town knew? They’d certainly ostracize her. Or worse, kill her. The damage she could cause on the town’s reputation was a palpable feeling, and it was clearly something on her mind behind her warm tears.

I couldn’t find myself sleeping that night. The next morning, I crammed as many caffeinated beverages within my system as my body could allow. But, throughout the night, I stayed awake to comfort Dani. With a blanket wrapped around her body and a box of tissues nearby, I could only assume this was what Laque meant when he wanted us to live together.

005 - AFTERMATH

It took me a few days. If anything, one part of the process was the ample amount of questions I had. While I was fine with the consequences of protecting the load-bearing resident of this town, I was still left confused and intrigued.

Once Dani calmed down enough, I was able to ask her a few questions regarding the information while I was unwinding from another day of work. “So, did Laque know about this beforehand?”

“Laque?” Dani questioned with intrigue. She would reveal her head from her room with her hands resting on the frame. “You’re the first person I’ve told about this…”

“Curse?”

“Yeah, but don’t call it that. I don’t like thinking this whole werefox thing is a curse.”

“Isn’t it a werewolf?”

“No—completely different. One’s a fox and one’s a wolf.”

“But they’re both canines.”

“Well, yeah. But that’s not really an excuse to lump them both together. Apples and oranges are both fruits, but they’re still different in taste and looks.”

“I guess so.”

Dani slowly rescinds back into her room as she inaudibly mumbles to herself.

“So would it be better to think of you as a pet in this roommate-situation or another resident.”

“What?!”

The question was enough for Dani to return back to her peering position on the door frame. Though, this time, she was a lot more agitated than before. Yet, I continued to speak, “I don’t know��feels like I need to accommodate for the information somewhat.”

“Like how?!”

“I mean, the meat-part’s covered. You’re practically potty-trained. Do I need to get you chipped just in case you run off? Do you still think like us; do I need to dumb things down? Will you suddenly get distracted when you see a chicken?”

“Do you hear yourself?! No! Nothing’s changing! I don’t need to get chipped. I’m just like everyone else. And I’ve never been distracted with a live chicken!”

“Wait, is the reason you get all pouty sometimes is because you’re holed up in the house most of the time? Do you want me to take you on walks?”

“You’re still not thinking of me as a normal person!”

“Right, sorry.”

Eventually, the air of hostility would die down as I returned back to the idle show on the television. Dani retreated back into her room as she shuts and locks the door behind her. I didn’t hear much back from her for a while.

A few minutes later, she would hastily swing her door open while darting directly towards me. Part of me flinched as she reached her hand over, but none of me expected her to grab my hand. With a strong yank, she pulls me off of the couch while grumpily giving me orders, “We’re going on a walk now, and I don’t care if you get tired.”

At first I was taken aback, but eventually I would accept the demand while walking over to my jacket hanging near the front door. “You could’ve just asked for something like this, but sure.”

006 - BRUNCH

An afternoon at the Toru Estate sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to everyone else—but to me, it’s an average Thursday. Every lunch, Laque always invites me and Danilo out to join him and his family for dinner. And after lunch, he indulges us on the amenities stored away in the nooks and crannies of the estate.

Laque always enjoys spending the afternoon with us—even if it’s for a few hours. I’m sure he doesn’t mind the mess that’s left from the weekly get-togethers, but I try and stay as cordial within reason.

The chateau is always as immaculate as an advertisement. With all of the servants working underneath the family’s rule, it’s rare—if not impossible—to find a smidge of dirt or grime left behind for any outside or indoor reason. At the point in his life, I believe Laque’s grown numb to the pristine. If I brought him to my house, he’d faint upon entrance.

“Glad you could come this week!” Laque cheerfully thanked us between each sip of some exotic wine, “The week’s been tough—with all the tourists and all. Honestly, I’m a little surprised you two made it on time! I was expecting some sort of mild delay.”

Danilo—seated on the opposite side of the table—was hardly swayed by the extravagant aesthetic laid out by the mansion. The gold and marble rooted within the various materials and fabrics barely held an effect to his mannerisms. Even in his words, he spoke as if he was home, “We left early. Dani was finishing up with her work for the night, so it was a little bit of a crunch.”

Laque, on the other hand, was interested in the small explanation Danilo gave him. Not that he assumed it was a lie—no. Every facet of any of our lives as something the aristocrat enjoyed hearing about. “Ah! I don’t suppose you two see each other much, no? You always work while the sun’s bright while Dani’s wide awake at midnight! What do you say you do again, Dani?”

“Online content creation,” I recited, “I can work whichever schedule I want, as long as it stays consistent on the other side.”

“I envy her a little bit.” Danilo waited until he finished with his current bite off his plate before continuing with his thoughts. “I had to fight to shift my hours on Thursday—switch from starting in the morning to the afternoon. Her? She just has to make sure whatever she needs to do is prepared.”

While none of what Danilo said was a lie, it was still sugarcoated to a small degree. As easy as his explanation sounds, the work required isn’t simply adhering to a schedule. Right now, I didn’t want to focus on the full logistics with my food still in front of me. I kept myself silent as the two cousins reconnected.

“You know, you’ve never really spoken about why you left your family,” the aristocrat moved on to a new topic, “You don’t have to answer this—of course. I’m just a little curious. Is it all really because you didn’t want their protection?”

Even with the question, Danilo wouldn’t budge in emotion. From his expressions, what was seemingly a touchy subject wasn’t much of an issue with him. He responded with a collected tone, “I just don’t want to live out the rest of my days without some sort of struggle.”

A confused expression overtook Laque as he heard Danilo’s response. “Our ancestors did the hard work for us, you know. I mean, if I bog myself down in needless strain, there’ll be less time to enjoy life in the moment. You know?”

“That’s what my coworkers think. Why am I—a descendant of wealth—working a nine-to-five at a warehouse? It’s like they’re staring directly at a descendant of European royalty.”

Laque didn’t seem to be affected by Danilo’s words. He would still listen on, but he would finish his plate while allowing his cousin to finish.

“I’m just not suited for this type of lifestyle. I mean, sure. We both graduated from the same prestigious private school near the Strip. But that felt like our parents just handed the school money to claim we’re up to standard with the curriculums. Graduating from that school was enough of a credit to where I didn’t need to search far for a job. I didn’t work for anything in life—I don’t like that.”

After his winded spiel, Danilo took a moment to recompose himself. While I silently cleaned what little crumbs remained off my plate, I scanned my head back and forth to look back towards the two. From Danilo’s scathing words, I expected Laque’s demeanor to shift from jovial to grave.

Despite my assumptions, he seemed to be happy with the response Danilo gave. “Well, I can’t really tell you how to live. At least you can live a normal life in this town. I’d hate to juggle a full time job while in fear of some shapeshifting beast, you know?”

“Hm,” Danilo muttered out, “You could say that.”

Once I finished my plate, I would leave all of my used silverware on top as I silently departed from the table. I couldn’t muster any words to announce that I was leaving. While Laque didn’t seem to notice, Danilo slightly turned his attention toward me before returning his gaze to his cousin.

“Well, hey!” Laque continues, “You know of one of my friends—right? Mute, pink tips with thin, round glasses? Last I got in touch with them, they were defending their family from the town’s undead infestation.”

While I snuck off, I continued to eavesdrop on the conversation while putting my attention towards Danilo’s slight movements. I watched as he adjusted his position in his seat at the mention of Laque’s friend. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him.”

“It can’t get worse than that, right? We live in the greatest city in the Strip, and I’m sure you’d do the same to protect your lifestyle if there was some issue with this town. Probably not some loyalty to the town—I could be wrong—but just to keep some normalcy in your life!”

The rest of the conversation devolved beyond a point where I could handle it. With shaky hands, I navigate down the flight of stairs to the basement where I take my residence on an expansive sofa. My emotion melted away at my insides as I confined myself within my own thoughts.

Even through layers of left-around blankets, my skin felt cold to the touch as I failed to focus on any of the details beyond the nearby coffee table. Part of me desperately yearned to reach for my phone—to grant myself some escape from my overwhelming emotions. However, a louder half forced me to remain curled up on the sofa, shivering.

The passage of time slipped away from my thoughts. What was once a laser-focus on each passing second gave way to more pressing priorities. Could I really drive home in this condition? How long do I need to keep this secret from Laque? The logical part of my thoughts knew the frenzy of emotions held no reason to shake me to this level. It was an off-handed mention, he wasn’t talking about me. Nonetheless, the simple realization wasn’t enough to break through the fog.

Suddenly, I felt a warm grasp on both of my hands. As my fingers curled around each hand, I haphazardly looked up to see Danilo standing right in front of me. While my focus would swiftly snap to his yellow eyes, I slowly sat up on the couch with my grasp tightening around his hands.

“That bad?” he questioned, “I know what he said—I didn’t think it was that bad. But, I can’t really dismiss it. Are you okay?”

I barely managed to push out any verbal response to him. Before I could try at a second attempt, Danilo lifted one of his hands off from my grasp. His freed hand pulls the blanket around my head off to my shoulders to reveal my frayed hair. With gently strokes, he softly combs through my hair without breaking his attention.

“I have to go to work, but if you really don’t want to stay any longer, just say you have to leave to grab my missing bag from the house for me. Is there anything you need?”

Danilo’s words were a softer in tone than they were at the dinner table. I’ve already recognized why, yet his quietened voice hadn’t lost its charm. With a tight pull, I wrap both of my arms around his body while pressing my exposed face against his clothes.

“Don’t go,” I squeaked out, “Please.”

“I wish…” Danilo slowly stepped away as his hands returned to his side. “I’ll try and get home as soon as possible, okay? Sorry lunch turned out like this.”

As I accepted Danilo’s departure, I gave a small wave goodbye as he left up the stairs. After he left, I kept my attention to the closed door at the top of the stairs. What good was there but to stare? Eventually, I followed suit to return back to Laque. I felt better, no doubt. Even for a short moment, the brief time I spent with Danilo was enough to revitalize me for just a little bit longer.

007 - EIGHTH GRADE

With a cheerful wave, Laque recognizes my arrival from the basement as I sit back down at my seat at the table. Once I fully settle down, he leans forward with his arms pressing against the table to speak, “So, Danilo’s gone back to work. Can I get you anything? More food? A refill?”

“I’ll take a refill,” I answer, “And a bowl of crackers. I’m not that hungry.”

Without hesitation, the heir of the castle sits up from his seat to fulfill my task. There’s an air of tension—the feeling is unmistakable. From what I recall from the previous times, the both of us usually talked for an hour before one of Laque’s many servants gave me a ride back home. I knew Danilo’s excuse was something thought of on the spot. I’d need to find a backpack in the house and be given a ride to the warehouse he works at. It’s better for me to endure the pain.

Once the plate of crackers and filled cup arrive back at the table, I focus my attention towards the assortment within the bowl. Obviously, I was pulling my focus away from him. Each time I looked up to see his face, he was always looking down at my orange jacket with a solemn expression. I’m not sure if I caught him giving the same glances earlier, it wasn’t something I paid attention to when Danilo was around.

Minutes pass. I spend the time in silence munching away at crackers. Every once in a while, I’ll look up to see the same judgmental glare. I’m not sure how much time will pass until it stops, but I was ever-curious. “What’s on your mind right now?”

The question immediately took Laque out of his glances. If anything, it looked as if he was trying to find something appropriate to say. “Oh, the jacket. I haven’t really seen it on you since eighth grade.”

“It is a large jacket. I’ve kept it clean and tidy for more than five years.”

“I wonder why.”

The way Laque spoke—it was passively aggressive. It was enough to get me to raise an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s the jacket Chase gave you years ago. I didn’t know you still wear it.”

“It’s a good jacket.”

“You don’t really care about what you wear, do you? I guess you’ve thrown it on because it was the first thing you saw in your closet.”

“Are you still mad about what happened in eighth grade.”

Suddenly, Laque scrunched up his eyebrows as he wordlessly took another bite off of his plate.

I knew what he was thinking, he knew what he was thinking. Ever since the mention of eighth grade, I had a large suspicion on where the conversation would lead. I repeat my question, “Laque, are you still mad.”

“No. No I’m not.”

“Then why do you suddenly care about what I’m wearing? Not everything’s your business.”

“What? I don’t care about what jacket you wear. I’m just saying. Do you two still talk?”

“Laque.”

“What? I’m just saying. I still talk to him afterwards—we’re close friends.”

“Why would that matter? I’m not going to tell you if I still talk to Cheese or not.”

“You still call him that?”

“Laque!”

“I’m just saying! I care about my friends. He’s the one that came to me after the breakup.”

At this point, my free hand was pressed down on the edge of the table as I slowly eat crackers to pass the time. I still vividly remember the visceral rage on his face at his birthday party; how silence gripped the room in a tight hold. I spoke through my teeth, “You sure don’t care about what you say to me, though.”

“We all used to be good friends, you know? I don’t think there’s a time afterward where we hung out together. Maybe we can change that?”

“We both know why that doesn’t happen. If you never threw a tantrum because I was ‘ruining the friendship’, then we’d all be having lunch together.”

“We were kids!”

“And you’re still mad about it!”

Another round of silence washes over the dinner table. Laque’s face contorts in a plethora of ways. His eyes darts around the room while he clears his throat often.

I pushed myself up from the dinner table after leaving nothing but crumbs in the bowl. However, the glass of water was left more than half empty. As I adjust my coat, I finish up the conversation, “I’m heading home. I don’t know why you’re still acting like this, but I don’t want to talk to someone who’s this invested in my personal life.”

“Fine,” he replied back. I could’ve mistaken his faint remorse for isolation. “But you’re the one who’s still wearing the jacket.”

As I leave the castle and notify Laque’s chauffeur, I spend a moment of the downtime to take off Chase’s orange jacket. Once I finish wrapping it around my waist, I depart from the château back for my house.

16 notes · View notes

mountain-lion-gremlin · 1 year ago

Text

a good reason to leave for me:

i honestly think it would be safer for me and therians to not be in the same space sometimes haha. P-shifting isn't safe for many and it can really hurt others.

Although I would love to stay, I know that it's probably safer for everyone to no longer teach it and keep to myself about things that involve how to shift and such.

P-shifting isn't a joke and can harm people who suffer from mental issues and other things of that sort. Its just not safe to teach in a large public space. It's something only some can stomach and be safe while doing. Plus some communities that are too unregulated exist and may mess with people's reality and how they perceive it. Some are too open to allow people to start p-shifting right off the bat and it's just too dangerous that way. (including those that say "oh just wait you will shift eventually but you cant control it at all" those are even worse.)

Theres a very good reason why newer communities are very apprehensive about teaching, or telling, or allowing new people who know nothing about it just hop in and start shifting. Usually if you are coming to the "learning" community (as in, you are following steps laid out by others to understand your identity) there is guidelines, there are warnings, etc. It's just too risky to not follow these guidelines and not listen to the warnings.

Dont start p-shifting right when you find out. Take the time to start a journal. Understand that what you are getting into isn't something that will make you cool or quirky. You risk your mental health if you are not careful. You have to be born to be a p-shifter. You must first mental shift before you can even think about p-shifting. P-shifting is not easy and will take years to even get to a point where you start getting somewhere physically.

The list goes on. When someone who is teaching shifting slacks in saying these things, you can harm someone. It takes a very long time to even get to the point where you may be ready to p-shift. Some never will p-shift. You have to accept these realities too. Not to mention how some older guides, although effective, can be so incredibly risky. (Such as completely shutting out the world and being an animal 24/7. Some people just take it too far and do it too early and ruin themselves.) Its just not worth it sometimes.

Thats why I'm leaving Tumblr. Too open, not safe for neither me nor others looking in. I know I usually don't have these sorts of posts, but I just saw someone in an anon saying how unstable their reality and they were after lurking in the community and it just.... its just so hard to see. Nobody deserves that sort of mental torture. Sometimes I forget that p-shifting actually can be dangerous to some if nobody teaches how important it is to regulate yourself, check in on yourself, and remember that p-shifting isn't for the faint of heart.

It's only for those who have spent so much time over years of their journey, exploring themselves, askong questions, taking breaks, questioning themselves so many times, and checking in, to finally be able to claim that they are able to p-shift. (There is so much more to it than that obviously.) My fourth year of shifting is coming up, and after so long I might be ready to leave the online community permanently and start my journey. (of physically shifting i mean. I spend more time teaching others rather than doing the practice itself right now lol. When i say p-shifting im trying to refer to the whole process, but really talking about the mental shifting and phantom shifting etc. Sorry if its been unclear, many know the whole community as "p-shifters" when in reality "p-shifters" are only those who havw actually preformed a p-shift. I havent yet in my conscious memory so i just call myself a shifter or nonhuman.)

Please be safe. Please, if you are curious about the p-shifting community, remember that it is a mixed bag and not for everyone. As always any community can be a mixed bag, but p-shifting "learning" communities can spiral and be too lax on the warnings and importance of these warnings.

Thats all. (make sure to read all tags fully too.)

#please be safe #if you are interested in p-shifting feel free to approach me but I'm not going to be as open as i used to be #this whole post isn't to claim that the p-shifting community is incredibly dangerous #i can be full of the most amazing kind people #the only issue is people forget how dangerous it can be to not remember the warnings that follow the community #many young people toss them aside because they think it's gatekeepers or a “cool kids only club”#(like i did)#but it's for safety and making sure you take it slow enough so that you can back out without being permanently damaged #p-shift #I will always tell anyone interested that you have to spend time researching thinking evaluating the list goes on #And it's nobody's fault #when you've been a p-shifter for a long time (like me) you forget the warnings that you followed in the beginning that protected you #from spiraling mental issues depression etc.#p-shifting can be done and practiced safely #hey i did it and I'm doing fine. I've lived with it for so long and don't hold onto it like a lifeline anymore #it's more of an aspect of my identity #im just trying to help others understand that it can be fun and safe but it's not something to joke with or play with #it is something that is serious and if the warnings are ignored usually very risky.#bro it's like rock climbing almost #“WEAR THE HARNESS. If you fall you won't plummet to your death!! Remember rules ABC and you will be okay!!”#it's sort of the same thing in that matter.#we do unsafe things all of the time but since we know the dangers and the warnings we will go about to be much safer in practicing it #Im just trying to say p-shifting from the “learning” side of it - these warnings should be heeded and taught.#Or else you get whats been happening lately with people wandering into places that are too lax with teaching the dangers #and people are traumatized and damaged from it #Many new people who I've seen wander onto my Amino don't even really know that there is even a process before p-shifting itself #it's scary and I'm afraid even more people will have to deal with the rough bumpy road of understanding that they aren't p-shifters #yeah so uh #this might not get any likes or anything but I still wanted to put this out there.#Please don't crop this and use this for out of context hate against p-shifting and p-shifters

15 notes · View notes

justajsworkshop · 11 months ago

Text

J'S FAQ/ASK POLICY. please review before you send an ask, as i've likely answered your question here. asks that include anything already featured here or that violate the guidelines will be deleted, with the possible risk of blocking for repeat/especially rude offenses.

remember: it's never about if/how/what/when. it's always about WHO. who are you conscious of being? my intention is to turn you toward yourself, so you learn to rely deeper on your understanding of yourself/reality vs. my understanding, neville's, or anyone else's.

GUIDELINES OF ENGAGEMENT:

no questions that start with “how.” this is to help you get out of the “tell me what to do” mentality.

no questions that include "i know i am god, but—" or anything of the like.

no trauma dumping. seek professional help, please.

be kind and recognize that i'm a real human being who does this in my free time. i'm not here to save you nor are you entitled to my time/thoughts/opinions. treat me with respect.

if i don't answer your question, please wait at least 3 days before sending it again. (i know tungles can eat asks, i get it. i do.) but if i still don't answer your question after that, just... leave me be.

don't ask me about how i make my subs because people just do this to lift approaches and styles. come up with your own.

i'm open and willing to provide my thoughts, but if it's clear you haven't really ingested what i've otherwise been blogging about, i'm not going to respond... if i do, expect a snarky reply.

if i haven't answered your question here, it's very likely tom has a video on it on Be Something Wonderful on YT. check there, too. he's who i learn from most.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

IS IT POSSIBLE FOR ME TO MANIFEST [X]?

yes, all possibilities exist. stop asking if it's possible, and focus on being the version of self who is that which you desire to be.

HOW DO I MANIFEST [X]?

be still and know you are god. remember that your true self already is all possibilities, realities, pasts, presents, and futures. from that knowing, choose the version of self/reality you want to experience and continue being that version of you who is fulfillment instead of nonfulfillment. read this for a more thorough answer.

IS IT WRONG FOR ME TO DESIRE [X]?

desire is just the divine urge to know more of what you already are (all things). instead of judging your desire, just be it instead.

HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE FOR ME TO MANIFEST [X]? HOW DO I MANIFEST INSTANTLY? (insert any question about time here.)

it's instant the moment you decide it's so. there is only one moment, and that moment is now. read this doc for more on time and instant manifestation. just because you don't perceive it with your physical senses yet, doesn't mean "it didn't work." (hint: it's always "working".)

HOW DO I TAP INTO THE VOID STATE?

decide you're a person who can. it's up to you what that means.

HOW DO SUBLIMINALS WORK? HOW MUCH DO I HAVE TO LISTEN TO SUBS TO GET RESULTS? IS IT POSSIBLE FOR SUBS TO DO [X]? (insert any question about subs here.)

your reality = your rules. don't ask me about what to do or what's possible; check your assumptions instead.

WILL YOU MAKE A SUB FOR [X]?

all subliminal topic suggestions must be submitted here and abide by the specified guidelines. if the form is closed, then... no.

WILL YOU MANIFEST [X] FOR ME?

no.

WHY AM I NOT ABLE TO MANIFEST [X]/TAP INTO THE VOID STATE? WHY HASN'T IT HAPPENED YET?

you literally just answered your own question. because you're persisting in the identity of someone who doesn't/can't/is not.

(to be continued... probably.)

4 notes · View notes

anthonybialy · 1 year ago

Text

Back to Not Abnormal

Most people would claim to prefer sanity. Thinking clearly seems logical unless you’re insane. There’s a good test if anyone’s worried about being infected. Discarding maniacal idiocy is apparently the wisest course. If you are familiar with many of humanity’s regrettable tendencies, you understand why there’s no certainty. We tried out lunacy just to see if we enjoyed it. Keeping an open mind allows for new experiences even if trying once turns out to be sufficient.

You’re no longer deemed racist for existing, which is nice in the way no longer hitting yourself on the head with a claw hammer feels better by comparison. One scumbag cop kneeling on a suspect’s neck is no longer valid as an excuse for telling one race of people to pipe down and listen as if another is more authentic in its experience. You can fill in any group and it’s wrong, which is a way to check.

Grievances aren’t necessarily accurate. Take how in this case they were totally inaccurate. The sort of subjective beings who say things like “My truth” may not perceive reality with clarity. Admitting to subjectivity is a good start even if it’s inadvertent. Pent-up venters just happen to be the same ones who think Hamas represents the persecuted and this White House has made everyone rich just because the dollar figures seem so high.

Government will cure you, according to countless epitaphs. It turns out coerced care is the precise opposite of compassionate, what with creating shortages while raising prices. Micromanaging your breathing and associating only sound like exaggerations.

Getting up in your grill doesn’t just apply to nasty flus inflicted by inept supervillains. Violating the health of your liberties leads to your physical being declining, too. Deciding something others provide for you is a right leads to it becoming unobtainable. Other than the philosophical and practical failures, everything works out.

Billing the collective is a bad way to get goods. Stuff is supposed to become affordable by billing all of us, meaning others. Forcing the collective to pay results in an unwieldy cost burden where people either pay ridiculous prices that inevitably result from removing competition or force anyone who makes more to pay way more in taxes, which results in a downturn of spending and hiring. You can’t choose which way coercion causes ironic woe.

The notion that government is good at anything at all runs counter to every moment we’ve endured, so at least ceaseless suffering had a purpose. The incumbent claims to have experience yet runs against it. Aren’t you enjoying your newfound wealth? There’s the little catch of how we’ve been handed Monopoly money, with the difference being it’s fun to outfox art history majors who think gentrifying Marvin Gardens with hotels would displace the indigent. A game where entrepreneurs must put others out of business defines liberalism as much as the way they’re terrible at it.

The notion that politicians should seize lucre in order to spend wisely never made sense. But we tried it just to make sure. The rather pushy redistribution wasn’t voluntarily, of course, unless signing over one’s autonomy permanently is the consequence of voting once. That’s Democratic policy.

Coerced cooperation was always preposterous. The ominous notion now features the immediacy of many horrid examples. Thank Joe Biden for disproving everything he believes.

Seeing results is bad news for the theoretically-minded. Self-branded intellectuals can’t even think of appealing schemes. Patent claptrap has been inflicted upon everyone for a couple years as part of a rather dubious trend that’s hopefully never treated as a throwback. We live under a government that’s only semi-skilled at stopping crime, which is the one task it’s neglected. One of its very few actual assigned roles has been swapped out for ensuring diversity. Risk is ubiquitous for equality.

Everyone was benefiting from open markets and locked prisons to the point that ingrates decided the solutions were the problems. The unappreciative naturally kvetch about what allows them to idle.

Removing safeguards went as well as declaring politicians are better at spending than whoever earned the money in question, which is to say not very. Take a look at who decided what we didn’t need luxuries like autonomy to learn why letting someone else make decisions is a very bad idea. Biden’s staffers are so bad at being productive that they had to find work hassling those who are.

This decade is not just an experiment to see how woeful life can get, although that was the result. Change for the sake of it needs specifics. Imposing daily burdens differs entirely from preserving fantastically counterproductive mandatory programs with coerced funding.

Anyone sick of feeling perpetually fed up might even get to the point where they seek a president who suggests you can choose things for yourself. All it took was trying the opposite. Voters consented, once.

#big government #liberty #shutdowns #race #economy

2 notes · View notes

clueingforbeggs · 5 months ago

Text

There is some small part of me that can't help but give a dry laugh whenever some American complains about the rise of fascism, especially when they specifically say Nazism. And yet when I give their blog a cursory check, they've been contributing to the rise of fascism, specifically Nazism, in America.

They don't deserve to live in a fascist country, nobody does, but I also don't think they can expect to only get sympathy when they spent the last fifteen months promoting Nazis, quoting Nazis, pushing for Nazism.

You know what, I think that, if it was taught in its actual context, the 'first they came for...' poem would be useful. Because so much of the Western left, not just in America, is doing exactly what actually Niemöller did, except with a few different groups.

Over the past five years, I have seen people joining in with attacking people who are queer (in the wrong way), who are disabled (in the wrong way), who are two masculine, and then, finally*, Jews. Happily repeating what they've been told to, at minimum, not caring what effect it has on those around them.

And now they actually are looking around to find out that there is nobody left to speak up for them. Because everyone else has turned away from them to focus on themselves and their own people, which at least is better than what Niemöller found.

Maybe if people were taught this, they might think twice before attacking a group of people just for existing... Though then again, perhaps I'm putting too much faith in humanity.

*There was definitely antisemitism within western leftist circles whilst all the previous things were going on, but from what I've seen at least, the main targets of western leftist ire moved from bisexuals, to asexuals, to 'stereotypical nonbinary people', to the mentally disabled, to the physically disabled, to the physically disabled who have 'hidden disabilities'**, to bisexual/pansexual lesbians, to gay men, to trans lesbians, to trans men, and then to Jews. If I'm wrong about that order, then so be it, but I can only comment on what I saw and have seen.

**I'm putting hidden disabilities in quotes because, in much the same way as other phrases like straight/cis passing and white passing, they entirely depend on the situation and the person perceiving whoever has a hidden disability/is straight, cis or white passing. (Like, seriously, there's a chat show here which is hosted by a guy with one leg, and the show's title even references it (plus you can see it in the title sequence. And the previous title sequence. And the one before that), and every time they put a clip from the show online and you can see his prosthetic/it's mentioned, there's at least one comment by someone going 'Oh, I didn't know he had one leg!' People can miss disabilities when you would have thought they'd be staring you right in the face)

Also, can we (well, anyone who is actually reading the additional notes under the cut of a post that I'm making unrebloggable because it's literally just me ranting) finally agree that whilst all of those things might bring with them advantages in specific situations, none of them are privileges, as all of them require the person to hide a part of them in order to gain any advantages, and also come with a lot of disadvantages?

0 notes

fenmere · 2 years ago

Text

Sorry. Instead of actually writing a snippet of story for this wonderful prompt, we want to share what we've learned about the factors involved in it from working on the Sunspot Chronicles, because the Sunspot Chronicles originated with a very similar scenario.

Things have changed since then. Originally, the Sunspot was from Earth, and it was leaving the solar system because of some great cataclysm about to befall the planet. Now it's a completely alien spaceship that came from another spaceship very much like it.

But, to that first scenario (and the scenario of this prompt)!

The Sun has expanded:

The Sun is not going to expand for about another 5 billion years. Not unless something really weird happens to it that our current science has yet to predict.

This is a science fiction story, however, so that really weird thing can happen!

But imagine the implications that humanity has somehow survived that long.

What's the most likely way that they've done so?

It turns out it's the ship:

OK, assuming that you have a drive with enough renewable fuel that you can accelerate at a constant rate, and that physical matter doesn't get in your way, if you have an acceleration rate of just 0.01 g (one one hundredth of Earth's gravity), it will take you just 10.5 years to reach 0.99% the speed of light. (If we're remembering our calculations right. We might be getting that decimal place off in the acceleration rate - we'd have to check our notes, but we did this calculation for the Sunspot.)

This means that you can reach relativistic speeds within the childhood of your first generation, if you're on a generational starship.

At first glance, this appears to be a cyogenic ship, but it's not. "While everyone else is asleep," makes it seem like one. But that bit about waking up and seeing your friend with a knife implies this is just during the night cycle.

Anyway, back to relativity.

The neat thing about relativity is that it causes time dilation. And you've hit that in under 11 years.

Now, the amount of time dilation that you experience at 0.99% c kind of depends a little on just how many nines are after that decimal point, but maybe not to the point where it matters so much at the scales we're talking about. Sure, for a single generation of humans, it can make the difference between seeing the death of the Sun yourself or dying before you get to if you happen to be within a generation of the point at which the light from the Sun's death would reach your ship (heavily red shifted).

We're not going to do the calculation here. Sorry. We're just not in the frame of mind for it today. But we've done similar calculations for time dilation between the Sunspot and the Terra Supreme, and for estimating just how far back in the history of the universe the line of Exodus ships extends.

And what we can say is this:

For humanity to have the best chance of seeing the death of the Sun, you'd have to fly in a generational starship at relativistic speeds for what you perceive to be millions of years, and then have a telescope capable of adjusting for the massive redshift while trying to view the sun through your drive flare.

Now, let's look at the speed of evolution, shall we?

The Coelacanth has been on Earth, relatively unchanged and recognizable as the same species, for 400 millions years.

The Nautilus, at least as a genus, has been around for 500 million years.

There are animals that are older, but they tend to be simpler.

And humans, to us, seem like a pretty volatile species, but that's because we live during a time when we're doing a lot of damage to the planet and have nuclear weapons. But those are things that are happening during a very, very short, minuscule era of all of human existence. It's possible that this is a blip, and if humans survive it their longer history will be more relevant.

Homo sapiens have been on Earth for about 300,000 years (coincidentally, about the same age as the Sunspot - woah).

If human beings could get to the point that they could build a magical generational starship that could not only accelerate to 0.99% the speed of light and just keep going for the time needed, while also having a stable enough ecosystem on board to survive that long, they could also probably survive as a species for as long as coelacanths have.

Whether it's a few million years or hundreds of millions of years of space travel at relativistic speeds (depending on the calculation's decimal points), it should be doable within the realm of sci-fi sensibilities.

Of course, if they do that, going through several technological "singularities" along the way, they might end up looking a hell of a lot like the ktletaccete do in the Sunspot Chronicles.

Anyway, this prompt looks like it's gearing up to be a murder story of some sort.

And it turns out that the current book we're writing for the Sunspot Chronicles is a murder mystery.

The last group of humanity find themselves on a space ship accelerating at 99% of the speed of light. The Sun has expanded, consuming Earth. On Day 284, You wake up while everyone else is asleep to see your closest friend leaving his bed, a knife in hand.

#science fiction #relativity #space travel #speculation

5K notes · View notes

theneighborhoodwatch · 2 years ago

Note

What are your thoughts on the potential Julie and Frank 'relationship'?

(serious answer under the cut. also, again, disclaimer that this is all speculation and i'm not saying that any of this is 100% For Sure going to happen, i am just speaking within the context of this one particular theory.)

(edit: nvm i might actually be right. yeehaw [said unimaginably haggardly])

i've talked about that before on this blog, in this post specifically (with extra links for context so maybe check it out) and it's still something that i think about A Lot. in that post, i describe it as a source of Mutual horror, i.e. "you were created to both bring out the best in someone and to keep each other shackled to someone else’s incomprehensible idea of normalcy." and when i say incomprehensible, i really do mean incomprehensible; going by a few posts clown's made in the past, the idea of gender being tied to presentation and vice versa seems to be a foreign one to the playfellow puppets - and yet, this does not seem to prevent them from the consequences of being Perceived a certain way. it's also probably worth mentioning that if the 2022 pride art is to be believed, then neither frank or julie are cis, either (for whatever the playfellows puppets' definition/equivalent of "cis" is, anyway.)

i would be lying if i said i haven't thought about Several ways this could all play out; how it could affect both of them as individuals, their other relationships, their pre-existing friendship. i won't go over all of those here bc this post would be way too fucking long otherwise, but i will say that i think that they would have been friends regardless of whether or not the show decided they were (and regardless of whether or not the show wanted friends or "friends."*) i don't think either of them start out Aware that they're "supposed" to be together. i think they are likely made aware of it later on - of how they are seen. in this way, it's a good example of what i meant when i previously described welcome home feeling like a setup for some cosmic horror-as-coming of age shit (or coming of age as cosmic horror??) for example, in this particular context, i saw A Lot of these two scenarios when it came to growing up queer and/or closeted, especially in an unsafe environment: 1. "i'm told that because i spend so much time with this person, and they are (X) and i am (Y), that i am in love with them. i don't think this is true, but i have no idea how to refute this, so i'm just gonna Go Along With It until i am emotionally, mentally, and/or physically no longer able to do so bc i'm scared of what'll happen to me and/or the people i care about if i don't - OH FUCK THAT HAPPENED A LOT SOONER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK"

2. "i'm told that because i spend so much time with this person, and they are (X) and i am (Y), that i am in love with them. i think that's the dumbest fucking thing i've ever heard and it does not apply to me at all" [is punished for this] "Ah." it's just that here, the scale would be magnified to the point of cosmic horror, in order to drive home the turmoil these situations bring, both internal and external. do i think frank and julie would be the only examples of this, or that it is mutually exclusive from any of WH's other potential themes? absolutely not. but if all we have to go off of are crumbs, then We Will Work With Crumbs. * side note, i was gonna talk about how it was interesting that despite knowing next to nothing about frank/eddie in canon except for the fact that It Happens, all of the frank/eddie art we have so far is a lot more unambiguously romantic than any supposed in-universe ship teasing between frank and julie, buuut then i realized that was probably bc we're still in the prologue and all the frank/eddie stuff we have is like, side sketches and concept art. of course it's gonna be more indulgent.

tl;dr: I Care Them and i hope you can tell

#anonymous #ask #welcome home #wh speculation #frank frankly #julie joyful #ask to tag

121 notes · View notes

fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years ago

Text

Spectral Perception

Title: Spectral Perception

Word Count: 8,000+ (I kept it under five digits this time!)

Summary: You had a superpower. You could perceive and give form to non-corporeal matter. That is to say, you could see ghosts - okay, so just one ghost in particular and it's really not even cool because when you touch him he just gets ten times as annoying. || Kol Mikaelson x reader

Warnings: None that I can think of...

Prompt: "If you're gonna keep giving me crap comments, can you at least give me crap comments with purpose!?"

Requested by: @kyn-lyn-blog Thank you so much! This was surprisingly difficult to write but I think it turned out pretty good.

Here lies my Masterlist and if you want to request something from me, check out my Cot Kerfuffle! Enjoy the show!

Lives are lived in stories. You could say on some authority that the stories of your life were a little bit stranger than most, but such is the burden of a necromancer. See, it all began the day after your 19th birthday. That was the day you had started seeing ghosts - just one ghost actually.

You had thought he was just some sort of late-term transfer student. He just showed up one day and sat at one of the empty seats, lounging about with his feet propped up on the desk as if he owned the place. It bothered you, but you ignored him. Then he started talking - or rather, you started hearing him and the guy never shut up. He always had some snide comment to toss out and it grated on your nerves like nothing else, yet your professor never addressed him. Then one day, he took it to the next level.

The class was in the middle of a test, it wasn’t a huge test but it was significant enough. Then along came that idiot.

“Well, my darlings, I’m bored out of my mind!” He announced, not even five minutes into the test. He got up and sauntered down to the very first seat on the first row and leaned down to peer at the student’s laptop. “Oh! So close,” He hissed. “ You forgot the negative sign on the three, if not for that you would have been right as rain.” Then he straightened up and moved on to the next student. “Ah, somebody found the cheat sheet, didn’t they? Congratulations-” He squinted to read the name written on the tag attached to the student’s backpack. “- Darell, you’re going to kill someone in the future because you were too lazy to do math.” Then he moved on to the third person in the row. You tried to ignore him this time but you couldn’t help glancing up when the annoying boy made a harsh choking noise and slid around the desk to crouch in front of the student. “Darling, honest question for you… how the hell did you make it past the second grade? I’ll admit I don’t know what the requirements are, but I am sure you don’t make them. You, poor child, are doomed!”

And this student he was talking to didn’t even glance up! He didn’t move or flinch or anything. It was as if no one could hear the annoying British boy except you. But if no one else was paying him any mind, then you wouldn’t either. The boy kept going around the room, making snide comments about every student’s work. You had to admit, annoying as he was, the boy wasn’t stupid - he seemed to know what he was talking about from what you heard between your aggressive attempts to ignore his existence. Eventually, he got around the room to you. Just like everyone else in the room, you pretended as if you couldn’t see him, and you thought you did a good job of it too. He leaned on your desk, so close you were practically leaning against his chest, and hummed what you had to admit was a beautiful tune, swaying back and forth while he reviewed your answers.

“Would you look at that, someone who might actually pass. It’s a bloody miracle!” He declared, not without his usual bitterly sarcastic tone, before moving on. You couldn’t help the triumphant smirk that drifted over your face.

After class that day, you packed up your things and followed the annoying boy out of the classroom. Physics was always your last class so you didn’t have anywhere else to be that afternoon. You tried to be subtle, following close enough to keep up with him but not too close to be suspicious. After a solid hour of walking through the streets of your home city, the boy found his way to the botanical gardens and you followed him in, albeit with confusion. With looks like his, you hadn’t taken him for the shy, botanical garden type - you weren’t blind! He may have been annoying, but he certainly wasn’t ugly, he could have had any girl he wanted - his whole vibe seemed to scream troublemaker, not flower-boy. When you found him again, he was sitting with his back against a cherry tree, just enjoying the quiet it seemed. You didn’t know his name, so you did the only thing you could.

You marched right up to him, put your hands on your hips, and cleared your throat.

“Gudsuntite,” He said, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You gave a tight smile and tried again. “Excuse me?”

“You are excused,” The boy muttered. You almost laughed… almost.

“What on earth is your problem?” You demanded. The boy seemed to tense up. He opened one eye… then the other… and then he sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees. You couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked when he did that. He glanced around briefly before staring up at you in confusion.

“Can you-” He cut himself off, hesitating. “Can you see me?” He asked, almost cautiously.

You frowned. “I know you’re trying to make me look dumb, but the only one who looks dumb is you. I’m not falling for that.”

“A-and you can hear me?” He actually had a really nice voice when he wasn’t being bitter and rude. The little almost-smile on his face was pretty adorable too.

“And you’re going to keep going with this?” You snarked back. The boy scrambled up from his seat on the grass, easily towering over you.

“I promise I’m not tricking you, darling. Please just humor me, what color are my eyes?” His little smile was growing bit by bit and you found it hard not to smile too.

You rolled your eyes. “Brown, okay? Your eyes are brown.”

The boy’s little smile broke into a full-on grin. “You can see me!” He laughed. “Já! Heilagt Hel! Þetta er besti dagur dauða míns! Þetta er ótrúlegt! Ég ætla að kasta upp! Bíddu, má ég kasta upp?” You weren’t sure what language he was speaking but judging by the way his voice quieted and his face scrunched up with confusion you guessed that the last bit was some sort of introspective question.

“Wait so, are you actually crazy or just a huge jerk?” You wondered, raising a brow. The boy shrugged.

“Little bit of both, I think,” He grinned, tilting his head. “Tell me, darling. Do you believe in ghosts?”

“No,” You responded immediately. “Of course not.”

The boy chuckled; it was a happy, friendly sound, yet it sent a chill down your spine. “Well that makes this a little awkward, now doesn’t it?” The look in his eyes wasn’t the one of some college boy pulling a prank. But you still refused to believe it.

“No, no.” You shook your head. “Ghosts aren’t real. They can’t be real!”

“You might want to think again,” He said.

“No, this is some kind of trick, a-and it isn’t funny,” You insisted. The boy threw his head back and laughed, it was more hysterical than anything.

“You know what isn’t funny?” He asked, striding over to a bed of roses not too far away. “This!” The boy tried to reach for one but his hand passed right through it; he waved his hand back and forth through the rose bush but his hand just flickered, distorting like a tv image with bad reception. “This is just bloody hilarious!” He got up and demonstratively brushed his hands off with a scowl. “Believe me now?”

You stood there, frozen with shock. “Who are you?” You demanded in a whisper.

The boy flashed you a devilish smirk. “Kol Mikaelson, original vampire, in the non-corporeal flesh.” He gave a flourishing bow. “Oh, and vampires are real too, along with witches and werewolves, and don’t even get me started on dopplegangers.”

You blinked, eyes wide. “You, sir, have been drinking Kool-aid. Mmhmm.”

“Oh definitely not.” He said softly. “I haven’t had anything to drink in months…” His voice trailed off and his gaze drifted to your throat. As you watched, his eyes seemed to fill with a blackness that crept from dark veins that spread across his cheeks like the strands of a spider’s web. His mouth twitched up in a smile, revealing two incisors sharp enough to tear flesh to shreds. You shrieked and stumbled back.

“Okay, okay, okay! I believe you! I believe you!” You cried. Your foot caught on a root and you tripped, landing on your back jarringly. In the blink of an eye, he was standing over you, tilting his head. You threw your arms up, ready to protect yourself, but no attack came. Instead, there was laughter, happy, gentle laughter. You blinked and refocused. The demonic features faded from the boy’s countenance and he grinned down at you in a way that was simply friendly, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

“Relax, darling. I’m not going to eat you,” Kol assured.

“No?” You questioned.

‘No.” He shook his head and you let out a sigh of relief, letting your head fall back against the grass. “Not yet, anyway.”

Your eyes flew wide. “Woah, wait. What?”

“Kidding!” He quickly exclaimed. “I’m kidding!”

“How do I know that?” You eyed him skeptically.

“I’m a ghost, sweetheart. I couldn’t hurt you even if I wanted to,” Kol said.

“So you don’t want to hurt me?”

Kol blinked. “Of course not. You’re the first person I’ve been able to talk to in months,” He said. His voice was soft and gentle, like silk. He stepped closer, and you felt your resolve melting as he watched you with something tender in his eyes. “I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

“Thanks… I guess.” You shook your head, still not sure how to feel about all this. “I came over here to tell you something.”

“Ah, yes!” He nodded happily. “And what was that?”

“How abhorrently annoying you are,” You deadpanned.

His face fell. “Oh… Well, that’s just too bad…” He said mournfully.

“Why?”

“I haven’t talked to a person in months, darling.” Kol grinned. “I am never leaving you alone!”

“Oh, good grief.” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be like that,” He scoffed, still smirking like a madman. “We’re going to be best friends!”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Not really, no.”

Kol just laughed in that carefree way you had already started liking. “I bet all the stars in the heavens that one day you’re going to like me, Y/N… It is Y/N, right?”

You shook your head and sighed. “It is and I don’t have to take that bet.”

“Why not?” He challenged. “Scared you’ll lose?”

“Oh, not at all,” You replied. “I just don’t think that having all the stars in the heavens will do me very much good as a broke college student. You can buy them online for twenty bucks.”

That was how you discovered that you could see the one singular ghost. As it turns out that was just half of what you could do. You learned about the rest a little bit later in an empty classroom.

The boy made good on his promise. Ever since that day in the botanical gardens, Kol had taken to following you around pretty much everywhere you went. At first, it was miserable, and it never stopped. Kol always had something snarky or inappropriate to say, which of course made you laugh at the worst of times. One such instance was what led you to uncover the entirety of your abilities.

You had a biology test, a big one, and Kol had taken to singing that infernal bottles of beer song. You had tried ignoring him, really. But there are just some things a person cannot ignore, one hundred and forty-eight bottles of beer on the wall for example. Technically it was two hundred forty-eight bottles of beer because he'd already counted down from one hundred and had started counting up after that. Needless to say, you were two-hundred and forty-eight bottles of done with that ghost boy.

You raised your hand. "Professor, I think I'm having a panic attack. May I be excused?" Your professor looked at you over the top of his glasses.

"History's empty." That was all he said. You nodded and promptly left the room. Kol, of course, followed just like you knew he would. You easily found your way to the history classroom and threw yourself into one of the seats, putting your head down.

"Good decision, darling. It was getting stuffy in there," Kol said, hopping atop one of the seats. You couldn’t believe he had the nerve to keep talking.

"Shut your mouth," You snapped, lifting your head.

"Why?"

"Because you're annoying."

"I can't help that I'm bored!" He defended lamely, throwing his hands in the air.

"But why do you have to bother me?" You demanded.

"Because you're fun to bother," He answered, smirking. “That’s what friends do!” You glared at him and put your head down again.

“We’re not friends,” You mumbled. “I don’t want friends.”

Kol’s smirk faded. If you hadn’t known who you were talking to, you might have said he looked concerned. “Why not?”

“Because friends are just an unnecessary responsibility,” You said sourly.

“Oh, I see how this is.” Kol pouted. "Are you mad at me?" That was all it took to set you off.

You rose from your seat and turned to look at Kol in his smug face. “What is wrong with you?”

“A great many things,” He replied with a cheeky smile. “Shall I make a list?”

"No!” You shouted. “Stop dodging the question, you always do this! You annoy me to death, and I want to know why! Why do you do this? You always make those stupid jokes, and it makes me look bad for laughing. Why do you do that? Are you that desperate for attention? Why not just talk to me when I'm not in school? Why do you have to be like this?!"

He shrugged. “Because I’m bored.”

“So what? I’m just some plaything to you - just entertainment?” You snarled.

“Yeah, pretty much,” He smirked, tilting his head.

You weren't sure why, but that hurt. “You’re a jerk, Kol.” You turned away and tugged at your hair, trying to keep yourself together.

“No, no. Darling, I didn’t mean that.” He was trying to backtrack but it wasn’t working. “I-I was just kidding.”

“Is that what you do?” You laughed humorlessly, letting a tear slip down your face. You were so sick of him. Everyone else left you alone, why wouldn’t he? “You just say whatever mean, hurtful, or disturbing crap you want and if it doesn’t work in your favor you say ‘I’m just kidding’?”

Kol blinked and bit his lip. “N-no, of course not. I just-”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You cried. “I was doing perfectly fine until you showed up!”

That wasn’t true, though. You hadn’t been fine. You had been lonely and unhappy and throwing yourself into schoolwork to distract yourself from that.

His response was quieter this time. “I just like seeing you smile.”

You blinked. Then you smacked him.

You smacked him because those words changed everything and nothing terrified you like change. Your world had been dreary and grey and then along came Kol and he was like a ray of sunshine. Looking at the hurt in his puppy-like eyes made you realize that maybe he wasn’t trying to be annoying, maybe he was just happy to have someone to talk to. Kol always tried to make you laugh but you’d never really wondered why until now. He was always saying things to make you smile, to let a little sunshine poke in from behind the clouds, and it made you wonder when you’d started hating the light.

"Uh… darling?" His voice made you want to throw something. Every time he called you darling it made you want to smile. You didn’t know how you should feel about him. He was cute but infuriating, thoughtful but arrogant. Kol was just so easy to like and maybe that was why you were so determined to hate him. He was just trying to be your friend, albeit in his own certainly unconventional way, but he was trying. You had just ignored him, written him off as a nuisance, and refused to see his efforts for what they were.

"Don't 'darling' me, Kol. I-" Only then did it dawn on you what exactly had just happened. “Wait a second… did I just?”

"You just slapped me,” Kol said, nodding slowly.

Your eyes went as wide as quarters. "Oh, geez, I’m so sorry. That was way out of character."

“Wait, what are you-” The boy made a face. "Really? That’s what you choose to focus on? Why is that-” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. “You know what? Never mind that! Darling, I’m a ghost," He pointed out. You blinked.

"You're a ghost," You repeated blankly.

"Yep…" He said, popping the ‘p’. His eyes were wide and his expression wrought with a mixture of shock, confusion, and amazement.

"And I just slapped you…" You looked down at your hands. You understood what that meant but your brain refused to grasp the concept.

"That you did." The corner of Kol’s lip twitched up, trying to restrain a smile.

“I shouldn’t be able to do that,” You said.

Kol’s lips parted into that adorable smile of his and now that you weren’t busy trying to hate it, you noticed that boy made laughter sound like a gift. “No. No, you should not.”

Your mouth fell open as your brain finally did its job. “Woah, no! Uh, uh! Nope! That ain't right!” You shook your head, taking deep breaths to try to calm yourself. Kol apparently found that hilarious. He was laughing and you were panicking. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh… Y-you're dead. You're a ghost, you're not here! How did I touch you?" You stammered.

"I have no idea," He said, shrugging. He at least had the courtesy to try to stop laughing but he failed.

“THIS ISN’T FUNNY, YOU WACKO!” You shouted. He made a pinching motion.

“Just a little bit.”

You were trying not to hyperventilate but this was a little bit much. You grabbed the side of a desk and guided yourself to sit on the floor. Kol knelt down beside you. “So, not only can I see dead people but I can touch you too now? T-this isn’t normal! Kol, what’s happening to me?” You asked, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“Hey! Hey, it’s alright. You’re okay,” He reassured you.

“No, I’m not!” You exclaimed. “Seeing dead people is not okay!”

“Not dead people, darling - just the one.” He corrected.

“Yeah, for now!” You huffed. “I’ve seen enough movies to know crap like this doesn’t stop small. And I don’t even know what this is!”

“Neither do I,” Kol admitted. “But if I had to make a guess, I’d say you’re probably some kind of psychic or perhaps a necromancy inclined witch and this is just your abilities beginning to manifest themselves.”

“You realize how none of what you just said is comforting, right?” You deadpanned.

He raised his hands defensively. “On the brighter side, maybe you’re not very powerful and this is as far as your abilities will take you.”

“What makes you think that?” You asked, skeptical.

Kol’s eyes darted to the side, you noticed he did that when he thought something was obvious. “Well, I’m not the only ghost in the area, darling.”

“Y-you’re not?”

“No.” He shook his head. “However, I am probably the most powerful in regards to latent magic, perhaps that’s why you see me and no one else.”

You snorted and raised a brow. “What makes you so special?”

Kol gasped, placing a hand over his heart mockingly. “You wound me, Y/N!”

You huffed a laugh. “I think you’ll live.” His smile made you blush.

“I’ll have you know that before I died, the first time that is, I was a very powerful witch,” He informed you.

“Oh, that’s cool.” You nodded.

“Yes, it is.”

“Did becoming a vampire take your magic away?” You wondered.

Kol smiled but the action was pained. “Yes, actually. It did.” You could tell that was a sore subject for him.

“That sucks.”

“It really does,” He said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” You just wanted him to know that. You weren’t quite sure why.

Kol looked up, blinking quickly a few times. “Oh… Um, t-thank you.” He watched you, searching your face for something. Perhaps he found it because a soft smile danced across his lips then.

“You’re welcome.” His eyes bored into yours and you could feel your cheeks heating up, so you looked away. It was silent between you for a moment. You knew there should be hundreds of frightening thoughts dashing through your head, but your mind was surprisingly calm.

“Y/N?” He spoke up.

"What?" You turned your gaze back to his face. For a powerful one thousand-year-old vampire, he seemed so young. You had never seen him look so vulnerable as he did at that moment. He wanted to ask you for something.

"Can you… can you do that again?" His voice was quiet and gentle, like silk. "Please?"

You tilted your head. "You want me to slap you?"

"No, no. Not that!" He shook his head, wearing that little smile you couldn't help but find adorable. Kol sighed, glancing away. "I just want - I want to touch you… Please? I-it's been so long…"

It must have been torture, you realized, not being able to feel anything for months. You knew by now that Kol wasn’t the type of person to exploit you, he was a gentleman in the traditional sense. So, you reached out, hesitantly this time, and laid a hand on his cheek. Kol's skin was cold - not icy, just not warm. His eyes fluttered closed and the boy leaned into your touch, smiling blissfully at the sensation.

“Your hand is warm,” Kol laughed. “I can feel that.” He grinned and reached up, placing his hand over yours and tangling your fingers together. He held your hand tight and turned his head, nudging your wrist with his nose. “I can smell you too.” He mumbled, pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. “That’s wonderful.” You had seen the demonic features of his curse come out once before, but that did nothing to dull your fear when you watched the darkness creep across his face. You didn’t think he would hurt you but he seemed distracted…

“Uh, Kol?”

All you got was a faint hum in response. The dark veins didn’t go away and a second later you felt sharp teeth grazing your wrist. You ripped your hand from his grasp and pushed yourself away from him, heart beating wildly though for whatever reason you didn’t feel quite as scared as you should. Kol looked up, his cursed features fading as he opened his eyes and took in the fear written across your face.

He shook his head, blinking. “I-I won’t,” He said. Kol reached for your hand again, eyes full of longing. “Please?”

You bit your lip but nodded and held your hand out. He took it and you knew that his smile would be the end of you one day. Then Kol smirked and tugged you forward, wrapping his arms around you and burring his face in your neck. You flinched and expected to be uncomfortable, you just weren’t big on being touched, but oddly enough, the hug from Kol wasn’t that bad.

“Thank you,” He mumbled, holding you a little tighter. You couldn’t help but smile both at how adorable the supposed powerful one-thousand-year-old was acting and at the evil idea that popped into your skull.

“Don’t thank me yet,” You chuckled, rubbing his back. You figured he needed it. “If I’m gonna keep giving you hugs then you have to promise to stop bothering me while I’m in class.”

The boy groaned. “That’s not fair!”

“That’s the deal,” You declared. “Take it or leave it!”

“Fine,” He grumbled. Then he pulled away to look at your face. “But only because I like you.”

“That’s your mistake.” You shrugged. You didn’t really believe him seeing as you were his only option for company.

He just smiled. “I guess we’ll just have to see.” Then he lifted his hands to cradle your face, just watching you as if you were something special. “Close your eyes?” He breathed. It was a request but you did it anyway, seeing no harm. A moment later you felt him press a sweet kiss on your brow and in the next heartbeat, he brushed his lips over your eyes. Then when you opened them, Kol was gone.

From that moment on, you should have known you were in trouble.

Though it had been rocky at first, time passed and the two of you sort of molded around each other. He learned his way to being your best friend. It was kind of nice having someone to talk to anywhere you went, and Kol was always willing to chat because it’s boring being dead and he really had nothing else better to do… ever. You could get away with talking to him pretty much anywhere too, all you had to do was put your headphones on and pretend you were calling someone, it was that easy! Being friends with Kol was, in a word, easy. Once you got over the part of you that wanted to throttle him day in and day out, the two of you just clicked and it certainly didn’t hurt that he was the cutest boy you had ever seen.

The problem was, Kol didn’t just look cute - that you could handle - no, he also possessed the most adorable personality on the face of the planet. He was still grumpy about being dead, but he had been so long enough to count himself extraordinarily lucky that he had found you. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t trying to be the sort of monster that haunts people’s dreams, he wasn’t trying to be someone he wasn’t. Around you, he could just be himself - he could just be the eighteen-year-old boy he’d been before he died the first time. You learned that Kol was really quite sweet when he wanted to be, and he was sweet without even trying. He listened even when you didn’t have anything real to say, and his advice was usually awful, but it always made you laugh and that was usually what you wanted anyway. Kol was the sort of person who smiles when he sees a dog and lights up when he gets the chance to explain something he’s passionate about. The sort of person who likes catching snowflakes on his tongue and sits through the extended editions of The Lord of The Rings with you. You’d showed him Star Wars and he’d freaked out when Luke found out Vader was his father. For a boy who’d died twice, Kol was quite full of life.

But he wasn’t alive. Kol was dead.

After a while, you started to feel guilty about how much you loved seeing your best friend smile. Sometimes your friendship with Kol felt wrong. Because over time you came to realize that you weren’t just friends. You couldn’t be, it was impossible. Because in the end, and you’d never liked the end of anything, that word - just - somehow always ends up meaning only. Now of all the people in this great big beautiful and awful world, Kol was one of those people who could never be only anything. In fact, you would say that only and just are the two things he never could be because, from the moment he’d entered your life, he’d been everywhere, a part of everything. You knew he always would be because the kind of friendship you two had wasn’t the ‘for now’ kind. It wasn’t the kind that goes away. It was one of those ‘written in the stars’ kinds, it was one of those ‘the atoms that make up our souls held hands when the worlds came to be’ kinds - it was chaotic and strange, and wonderful, and perfect. It felt like it was made to be something more.

You weren’t sure when it was exactly that you fell in love with him - it was more of a gradual process, you supposed, and entirely on accident - but you would never forget the moment you realized it. It was on a Saturday morning and he had finally beaten you in Mario Cart - the maniac insisted on using the wheel configuration, go figure - so naturally, he was smiling and teasing you about it. You had looked over to where he was sitting on your left and thought of the previous night when he’d sat up with you for hours humming a familiar tune you’d never heard while combing a hand through your hair because you couldn’t sleep. The thought had felt like a revelation: “Holy crap, I’m in love with this idiot.” And you knew it wasn’t the kind of love that goes away. You could have told him then, but you didn’t. Because Kol was dead, and you weren’t. And he wasn’t coming back and you would have to live your life eventually but it wouldn’t be with him. You had fallen in love with Kol because he was your best friend, and you kept the truth to yourself because it would only hurt him if he knew.

But life goes on, so you played pretend until the day you couldn’t keep your eyes closed anymore.

That day was a Thursday afternoon and it was raining. The sky was dark and it was pouring buckets, streetlamps were all on and there were puddles of water everywhere. You liked hearing the rain, so your windows were open while you sat inside at your desk working on your chemistry homework and singing along to AJR’s Normal as it played softly from your Bluetooth speaker. Kol sat on top of your desk precisely where you’d asked him a hundred times not to, holding your hand while he watched you with a smile that said he could be quite happy in that moment if only he were alive. He was content to just sit there and trace patterns along your arm and it didn’t bother you very much anymore. You’d come to learn that Kol was a very tactile person, he had the tendency to cling to you whenever you would let him both because he liked having a solid physical form and because he was severely touch-starved though he’d never admit it.

“Is it normal to stand here, and wish that I was back at home?

Is it normal to tell her I can't be normal anymore?

I don't know

So maybe I should go back home,” You sang quietly, swaying a little bit with the tune of the song.

“Your taste in music is awful, darling,” Kol teased, shaking his head woefully.

“No,” You countered. “You’re just ancient.”

“That point, although true, is completely irrelevant,” He claimed.

“Oh, really?” You weren’t really listening to him as this was not the first time the two of you had debated your music taste.

“Indeed. See, I can commend the artists of this century, the music of this day and age is brilliant… for the most part,” He said. “Yet you actively choose to listen to the ear scorching minority.”

“Your opinion has been noted,” You chuckled softly.

“It’s a shame, truely.”

“Thanks.”

“I genuinely feel sorry for you.”

You rolled your eyes and glanced up from your homework. “If you’re going to keep giving me crap comments, can you at least give me crap comments with a purpose?”

Kol smirked at you. “As you wish, darling.” He hopped off your desk and moved to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin on your head. One of his hands fiddled with the necklace you wore and you knew he was looking over your homework. “Four and seven are wrong,” He said after a moment. You weren’t sure how a one-thousand-year-old Viking could be so good at chemistry, but he was practically a non-human human calculator. Apparently, math and magic are closely related.

“Really?” You groaned.

“You said be useful.” He grinned cheekily.

“I meant you should give me some inspiration.” You deadpanned.

“Alright, well how ‘bout this-” He let go of your necklace and took to rubbing your shoulders. You had never even asked him to, he just did stuff like that. “You need to take a break.”

“No, I don’t,” You scoffed. “What I need is to get this stupid assighnment done.”

“Done is not the same thing as done well,” Kol pointed out. “You’ve been at this for three and a half hours, your brain is fried, love.”

“No, it’s not! I’m fine,” You insisted.

“You need frozen custard,” He declared. You leaned your head back and raised a brow at him.

“I think you mean, you want frozen custard.”

“I assure you, my motives are entirely selfless.” He shot you an innocent grin.

“Yeah, right,” You snorted, rolling your eyes.

Kol gasped, fighting offense. “You doubt my honor, darling?”

“Routienly,” You deadpanned.

“That hurts.”

“Good.” You smirked. “I’m almost done.”

“You said that an hour and a half ago,” He complained.

“Really?” You glanced up at the clock on your bedside table. “Huh. Whaddia know…” You shrugged. “Well, you can’t go without me so you might as well be patient.”

“Oh, I don’t do patient,” He said, deviously. Kol stooped lower to nuzzle into your neck, nipping playfully at your throat. Though it made you blush like mad, you didn’t question it. You just figured it was a vampire self-comfort thing and you were completely and fully aware of how far you were reaching to grasp that conclusion but it was easier than thinking of the alternative.

“Too bad!” You sang. “Kiss my what?”

“Come now, there’s no need to be mean,” Kol sighed. “Just take a break.”

“I said wait and wait you shall.”

“Just think about it, Y/N, ” He continued. “Y/F/F custard. Tantalizingly creamy on the tongue, perfectly refreshing for a warm, humid day, and covered in rainbow sprinkles because you’re obnoxious.”

Seriously? He gave you a description like that and had the nerve to call you obnoxious? It did sound pretty good though…

“Fine!” You snapped, though you weren’t actually angry. “You win! You’re gonna have to wait outside while I grab my coat though. If my dad finds out I brought a boy into my room, I’ll be living in a tent from now on.”

Kol just shook his head and laughed. “As you wish, darling.” Then he kissed you on the cheek and disappeared. You shook your head as you felt warmth rise into your cheeks, you never should have shown him The Princess Bride. Butterflies attacked you from the inside and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you grabbed your umbrella and pulled on your rain boots. Rushing downstairs, you said goodbye to your dad and told him where you were going before throwing on your rain jacket and heading for the door. You paused with your hand on the doorknob and tried to wipe the cheesy smile off your face. Your case of the feelings was getting worse as time wore on but that still didn’t change the facts. Once you had your face under control, you stepped out the door.

Kol stood outside, waiting for you. It was still raining bathtubs but he remained untouched by the water seeing as it passed straight through him. You opened your umbrella before you got completely soaked and skipped down the steps to meet him. Big mistake. You slipped on the last step and fell forward, you probably would have broken something had Kol not been there to catch you.

“Watch that last step, it’s a doozy,” He joked, grinning down at you. Your faces were really close and you suddenly became hyper-aware of his hands on your waist.

“Thanks,” You said, chuckling awkwardly.

“Anytime.” He didn’t move, and you almost thought you imagined it when his eyes flicked down to your lips, but you knew you weren’t dreaming because you’d never been more awake. If you had been dreaming, you would have let the moment carry on as it wished but to do so in reality would only hurt more.

“Ready to go?” You asked, breaking whatever spell held the two of you in place.

“Of course.” He grasped your hand and took your umbrella from you and the two of you started down the street.

Your destination wasn’t too far to walk. Neilson’s Frozen Custard was a little shop on campus, the only one in the world, and the world was missing out because it had the best frozen custard mankind will ever know. Plus, the portion sizes were enormous so the place was just perfect all around. When you reached the window, you smiled at the elderly gentleman working there. His name was Bryce and owned the place actually, it was opened by his great grandfather back in 1915.

“Two large concretes please,” You requested, shoving the damp hair from your face.

“Can do, young lady,” He replied. “What flavor?”

“Cookies and Creme, if you would.” Kol muttered. You eyed him with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t,” You whispered back. You raised your voice again, addressing Bryce. “I’ll have Y/F/F and the fruit loop beside me will have Grasshopper. Extra rainbow sprinkles on both!”

“Comming right up, Miss. Y/N,” Bryce chuckled. Then he went about scooping up the frozen treat.

“That sounds disgusting,” Kol whined. “And I’m not a fruit loop. If anyone’s a fruit loop it’s that one kid - what’s his name? - Darell! He’s a fruit loop, I’m not a fruit loop.”

“Relax, darling,” You mocked. “It’s just a weird name for Mint Chocolate chip, ‘cause you need to expand your horizons past Cookies and Creame.”

He shrugged. “If it ain’t broke…”

“Also, you’re a fruit loop if I say you’re a fruit loop because I like fruit loops,” You declared. Kol just rolled his eyes and Bryce returned a moment later bearing two giant styrofoam cups which you and Kol accepted, paying for them first so you wouldn’t have to let go of your ghost’s hand.

The older gentleman then turned to Kol. “You better keep an eye on her, son. She’s one of the good ones.”

Kol glanced at you for a moment with a smile that was very happy and a little bit sad. You looked away, blushing and he turned back to Bryce. “Don’t I know it.” You avoided responding to that by not so cleverly shoving a spoonful of sugary goodness in your mouth.

“Thanks, Bryce! Have a great day!” You chirped with a mouth full of custard. You waved and he waved back before closing the window. You and Kol found a seat that was covered by the tiny shop’s awning and sat down, your intertwined hands resting on the tabletop as the rain fell all around you.

“Alright, I’ll admit it… that was pretty good,” Kol said, turning in his seat and tossing his empty cup at the trash can a few yards away. His aim was spectacular and he made it no problem.

“Told ya’,” You smirked, finishing off your last spoonful. He took your cup from you and tossed it out too.

“Ready to go?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I think I’m just gonna watch the rain for a bit,” You said, smiling softly. It really was beautiful and the whole world was calm.

Minutes passed in silence, with you watching the rain and Kol tracing patterns into your skin. It was nice. Then he spoke up and it hurt you when he did.

“If I told you that I loved you, would you believe me?” Kol’s voice was soft and hesitant and you knew he was watching your face for any reaction. So you were honest with him.

“Yeah, I would.” You could feel the tears begin to fall, you’d been on the verge of crying for a while now.

He seemed surprised. “Really? Why?”

“Because you won that stupid bet,” You choked out.

Kol blinked. “I did?”

His response made your lips twitch up in a smile even though you were hurting. Because that sweet boy tried to act confident, but you could see it on his face every time you asked to talk to him, most people only wanted him around to do things, not to be himself - he wasn’t used to being wanted, at least, not for anything more than his looks.

“Yeah, Koala,” You called him that because he clung to you like one - because he was relaxed and it was another thing you liked about him. “You did.”

“But that makes you sad…” He said, biting his lip. “Is it because twenty dollers per star means you owe me a few trillion wads of worthless paper?” And one more thing you’d grown to love about him, he always knew how to make you laugh.

You shook your head. “Nah, star vendors aren’t’ very reliable anyway.”

“So hard to find an honest businesses these days.” He shook his head woefully.

“Right,” You said. It was silent for a while and you could tell this was one of those times when Kol wished he was alive again.

“Why are you crying?” He could be gentle when he wanted to be.

“You weren’t supposed to say that,” You whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t supposed to say you love me, I didn’t want you to,” You explained.

“You don’t have to say it back, I don’t expect that of you,” He said quickly. “I just wanted you to know.”

You shook your head, pursing your lips. “No! Please don’t say that, Kol. Please, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Why not?” He wondered.

“Because it just hurts,” You sniffed. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Kol but you’re dead and I’m not. One day I’ll have to live my life, but it won’t be with you.”

He squeezed your hand and smiled. “Now, I understand I’m indescribably handsome and outrageously charming, but I can promise you that you won’t need me forever, darling. One day you’ll meet some bloke who is undoubtedly nowhere near good enough for you, but you’ll be completely swept off your feet, and you won’t need me anymore.”

“Well what if I don’t want to?” You muttered.

“What do you-” You cut him off.

“What if I don’t want anybody else? What if I fell in love with my best friend?” You cried, unable to stop the words from leaving your lips. “What do I do then?”

Kol froze and you knew you’d said too much. You shouldn’t have said it out loud, it was better left as it had been. But now the words were out and you couldn’t take them back.

“Y-you love… me?” He asked it as if he couldn’t possibly understand. As if the concept was so utterly foreign he could hardly get it off his tongue.

“I gotta say it was kinda an accident…” You tried to joke. He just stared at you blankly. “I mean, I was trying really hard to hate you but at some point you laughed and I think I blew it.”

“You love me?” He asked it again.

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded.

“But I-I have nothing to give you.” His words hurt your heart because you knew they came from his. You smiled at him.

“Kol, you’re an idiot and a dork and I don’t care if you can give me something because you already gave me a best friend. I love you because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” You sniffed, pushing your damp hair out of your face. “Only problem is, I can’t have you.”

“You’re right.” Kol nodded. “But I don’t want to worry about that.” Then he stood up and pulled you with him. “Dance with me?” He asked.

“There’s no music,” You pointed out.

He smiled. “There is if you listen.”

You strained your ears to listen past the rain and you heard it. The tiny speaker from the custard shop was playing Normal by AJR.

“See? My music taste is amazing,” You said, wiping the last of your tears away. Kol just laughed.

“You wish.” Then he dragged you out into the rain, wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you in close. You settled against his chest and he rested his chin on your head. It was like your bodies were made to fit together. You didn’t really care that you were getting soaked, it was worth it.

Is it normal to stand here and wish that I was back at home

Is it normal to tell her I can't be normal anymore?

I don't know

So maybe I should go back home.

“Kol?"

“Hmm?”

“You may be invisible to everybody else, but you’re everything to me.”

Kol pulled away from you and before you could blink, his lips were on yours. You were kissing a ghost and as ridiculous as that sounds you couldn’t really think about the technicalities because Kol was a fantastic kisser. He kissed you like you were home and he'd been away far too long. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back - it was all you could think to do and his soft lips tasted like mint. His grip around your waist tightened and you could feel him smile. When he pulled away, he didn’t go far, resting his forehead on yours.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered. You didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I have an idea.” Kol took a nervous breath. “But you may not like it very much.”

“What’s your idea?” You asked, peering up at him cautiously.

That cursed blackness crept around the edges of his eyes again, but this time you couldn’t find it in you to be afraid. “Your blood,” He answered. He seemed ashamed for even suggesting it but the idea made sense, and you trusted him.

“Okay.”

“Y-you don’t have to,” He said quickly.

“I know.” You nodded. “But I trust you, and it never hurts to try, right?”

Kol just smiled at you like he'd never been more grateful for anything in his life. It made you feel warm. He bent down and pressed his lips against your throat. "I love you more than anything," He murmured.

Then he bit down. You wouldn't lie, when his teeth tore through your skin it hurt and it hurt worse than anything you'd felt in a long time. But you tried not to focus on the pain. You thought about how he'd kissed you like you were the only one who'd ever meant anything and that's how you got through it without crying. After a while you started to feel dizzy, things started spinning and you weren't standing on your own anymore. When your knees gave out, Kol moaned, squeezing you tight. You knew he was enjoying it and you knew how dangerous that was. What if he didn't want to stop?

"Kol?" Speaking hurt worse, still you managed it even as you started losing focus on the world around you. Kol was taking quite a lot of blood and he didn't seem intent on stopping. "Please stop." He didn't. "You have to stop, I'm getting dizzy."

Kol moaned again and drew one last sip before releasing you. It seemed to take a lot of effort for him to pull away. He grasped your hands tight and had to take a step away from you, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip. He was breathing hard and couldn't meet your eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that," He said, shaking his head. "You probably shouldn't let me do that again. You are dangerously good, love."

"But did it work?" You asked, flinching a bit.

“I-I don’t know.” He stepped away from you and cupped his hands. Rainwater filled them and the smile he gave you when he looked up would stay in your memories forever. “It worked.” He laughed and then his arms were around you again and he picked you up, crashing his lips against yours and spinning you around. “It worked!”

Kol didn’t let go of you for a while after that. He carried you home and you found out that night that he was a huge cuddler. With his arms around you and a thousand sweet nothings whispered to you to lull you to sleep, you felt safer than you ever had. You felt whole for the first time in a long, long while. Everything was pretty great until your dad came in to check on you. All you heard was the door opening and:

“So, sweetheart, is there anything you’d like to tell me about?”

You shot up and whipped your head around to look at your father. "Oh… uh… hey, Dad?" You smiled weakly but the glower you got in return offered no reprieve. "So, um… I promise there is a p-perfectly good explanation for this i-if you'll just, uh… l-let me explain." You subtly tried to move between your father and the boy he'd just caught you with. You felt Kol’s hand tangle with yours, giving a comforting squeeze and you felt yourself relax.

"No, sweetheart," Your dad managed to grind out between teeth clenched hard enough to break steel. "I think I'd like to hear what this young man has to say for himself."

"Dad, please, I swear he wasn't-" You tried to defend him but another silent glance from your father made you close your mouth. You knew the only reason he hadn't gone for his shotgun was that it would give Kol the time he needed to escape.

"The jig is up, darling," The boy sitting next to you sighed. "He deserves to know the truth." He stood, letting go of your hand, and closed the distance between you and your father.

"But-" This time it was Kol's reassuring gaze that cut you off. He stood tall and respectable in front of your father and held out his hand, keeping with an old-fashioned tradition.

"Good evening, Mr. Y/L/N. My name is Kol, and before I say anything else, I would like to assure you that none of this is what it seems," Kol said, keeping his voice level.

"Well, Kol, I expect you to have a fantastic explanation of what exactly is going on," Your father said. His voice was calm but you could tell that only meant he was positively livid.

Kol scratched the back head. "Well, the short version is I am a one-thousand-year-old original vampire who, after having been murdered by two children and an indestructible stick, found himself trapped in a realm between realms wherein I existed trapped in a somewhat incorporial state, only to be seen and heard by your daughter who possesses the unique and extraordinary ability to return me to a corporeal state of being so long as I remain in physical contact with her or consume her blood - on second thought, I should have left that last part out." Kol offered a tentative smile at the end of all that.

You thought that Kol might have been a little less than happy about being alive again when your father’s fist met his face.

But that’s a story for another time…

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @railingsofsorrow @r13mar @hellotvshowtrash Tell me if you want on or off the tag list!

787 notes · View notes

spitalofatalo · 2 years ago

Note

An ask for you: I'd like to know more about Moreau's Fionn!! I think Moreau and his area has a lot of potential that was lost with how short his segment was and am wondering how you interpret his segment and Fionn's place in it!! ☺️

of course! i like moreau a lot and i completely agree. side note: i should probably give all the fionns nicknames sometime

moreau getting to keep one of the fionns is a tremendous occasion because it is concrete proof, in his mind, that mother miranda cares for him at least a little. whether it was a pacifying gesture or not, he has been Entrusted With Something Important (this is many years pre-rose) and he will not let her down. as a result, he over-worries about fionn at first and refuses to let them explore the more hazardous areas of his domain lest they get damaged

for their part, fionn is maybe the only person to treat moreau with genuine reverence - as an "outsider" to the family, they perceive all the lords as deserving the same level of respect (and a healthy amount of fear). this catches moreau off guard, as he isn't really used to having power on an interpersonal level? i mean sure he experiments on people and eats them but none of those people have ever actually called him "my lord" and sworn their eternal service, so he really has no idea how to handle it, or what to ask of fionn. it's not like the reservoir needs a lot of upkeep. so they start with simple, menial tasks

when he gets comfortable with it, and when fionn sufficiently proves that they can hold their own, moreau permits them to venture further into the reservoir and into the village itself to gather resources (always armed with a harpoon gun, of course). they like picking up souvenirs from their journeys - little interesting/pretty things, useful or not, and bringing them back home for their collection. every time they leave moreau thinks "they're probably going to be gone forever" and every time he is pleasantly surprised

other than that, this fionn's service to moreau is aiding him with his research (why yes, they ARE complicit in kidnapping/luring victims to the clinic) and doing some of their own. under his influence, fionn develops an interest in science and medicine, and experiments with natural remedies - although none of them have worked out quite yet. they'd like to be able to alleviate some of the pain moreau experiences, if not eventually find a "cure" for him. in the meantime, they help with managing his condition and taking over any tasks that he struggles with

fionn and moreau find that they can relate to each other on some levels: both are devoted to miranda to a self-destructive extent; both have low self-worth (although moreau's is more "i am a complete failure" while fionn's is more "i exist only to be used"); both have difficulty controlling their physical mutations. fionn doesn't demand respect for themself, because they primarily see themself as an object / means to an end, but they frequently assure moreau that he deserves respect. i think he might bring them along to family meetings, sometimes, to help him articulate things

so they essentially become an advisor (and he's the only one that would really take their advice). fionn's never really been a rational person, but they are good at adjusting to what another person needs, and what moreau needs is someone to keep his emotions in check. fionn effectively manages to shut off their own emotions in the progress, including any semblance of fear or hestitation (which is helpful when confronting the horrors of the village. again, moreau worries)

it's this lack of hestitation that i think would lead them to rush into a confrontation with ethan, despite losing two of their previous incarnations to him. this fionn sees themself as more intelligent and more of an active defender than dimitrescu's or beneviento's, and it doesn't matter if they're capable - they have to be. like the ones before, they put themself on the line because it's their duty

i think it might actually be some failure of reservoir infrastructure that leads to their death, rather than ethan directly killing them. i'm toying with the idea of them falling / being pushed into the lake and moreau, in his mutated form, mistakes them for ethan and eats them - just one more terrible failure that he has to contend with! i feel like tragedy and disappointment are the only fitting ends here. but yeah, this fionn ended up having more development than i expected and i enjoy them and this dynamic greatly

#resident evil oc #fionn forsum #salvatore moreau

7 notes · View notes

greens-multiverse · 2 years ago

Text

[hi! i’m mitzi, and i can’t draw, so instead of making mads or animatics or whatever when i get a blorbo song stuck in my head i write really pretentious songfic. this particular one is something i’ve had cooking in the back of my head for years, about the end of tpp anniversary crystal, and azure chasing OLDEN through the depths of reality. around - the end of last year, criminy, life’s really been happening a lot lately - i started rambling about the fossil gods on the tpp lorecord, which segued into rambling about amber, which segued into rambling about OLDEN, which segued into this. i’ve been working on this post since march, bird jesus save us all. check my ‘mitzi writing’ tag for the previous rambles, but they shouldn’t be strictly necessary to understand this]

[our story starts at the end of anniversary crystal, itself the end (and also the beginning, it’s complicated) of the long battle against OLDEN. the REALITY-DEVOURING GODMONSTER has been defeated (though IT isn’t quite dead yet), the voices are getting ready to leave evan, the world is slowly falling apart, but don’t worry, that’s supposed to happen, and at the tomb of the voices on top of mt silver, a meeting takes place]

[our song being ficced tonight is cosmo’s ‘the ai girl and the deep heart sea’ - specifically, the first fifty seconds of it. it’s a long way to the bottom of the ocean of reality, and this is just the first step]

you ever hear that story about the shadows on the cave wall? like, some people were locked up underground, chained in place, unable to even move, for their entire lives. in front of them was a blank cave wall, and behind them was a blazing fire. between them and the fire, sometimes, would pass... things. people, animals, objects, moving behind the prisoners where they couldn't be seen all the prisoners could see were the shadows projected on the wall in front of them. that was all they knew of reality it's a metaphor, like. just as the prisoners see only the shadows and not the objects that cast them, so the world we know is just a distorted reflection of the true reality beneath. beyond this transient, illusory physical world, the philosophers say, lie the forms and concepts that create it, abstract and eternal. reality as we perceive it is just a flimsy crust over the true nature of the universe now, that's not entirely true. just because our world is a product of the deeper structures of reality doesn't make any less real. every part of the universe, from the most distant depths of the substructure to the soaring peaks of the noos, exists just as much as every other part. still, the philosophers do have the right idea. beneath our reality lies concepts, and beneath those concepts lie mathematics, and beneath that... well, it gets hard to describe the substructure in human language past that point. but it continues down, for many, many more layers. if the shadows on the wall are cast by objects, then those objects are themselves shadows, as are the things they are shadows of in turn. really, the allegory of the cave breaks down too quickly to be that useful. a better metaphor might be... the world we know is just the surface of an endless black sea

0. the surface a short conversation beneath a black sky

at the top of the mountain, among the ruins of the tomb, she sits. once upon a time the icy biting wind might have bothered her, but she's weathered far worse. she tosses snowflakes between her gloved fingers, and waits

above her, the phantom stars are slowly fading away. next will be the sky, and after that -

"hey!"

he strides through the rubble, limbs passing straight through solid stone. in his eyes is a light from beyond the world, but around them is still a lenseless pair of glasses. he talks as he walks, Voice perfectly pitched to catch her attention. "i've been looking for you everywhere! what're you up to?"

she glances at him, and then back to the sky. "waiting for the end"

he sighs, a little wistfully. "yeah. it'll all be over soon." he finds his own spot to sit in the ruins, and for a moment, they watch the stars blink out together. then he hrmmms. "actually"

it always has to be business with him, doesn't it. "what do you want now," she groans, more tired than anything else

"oh, nothing, if you don't want to get involved!" he shakes his head so hard his neck almost twists. "I just thought you might be interested, and you could -"

she groans again, more irritably. "get to the point already"

"right, right." he exhales, adjusts his empty glasses. "OLDEN"

he stands up and starts pacing in a circle, hands flying through gestures she doesn't even try to interpret. "see, IT's not - the Voices injured IT pretty badly, but IT's still existing. IT's fled into..." he slows down, furrowing his brow. "...I'm just going to call it the substructure of reality for now, we really don't have time for the full explanation. the fossil gods are going to chase IT down and finish IT off, once and for all. I’m coming along, as..." another furrow. "sort of a focus? anyway"

he stops and turns to face her again. "we wanted to know if you were coming too"

she - pauses, just for a second. then she narrows her eyes. "why would I?"

neither of them so much as glances at the back of her right hand. what point would there be in alluding to things they're both all too familiar with?

instead, he starts gesticulating even more wildly. "because you could help, most of all! you're better at navigating the haze than I ever was, you must know a thousand shortcuts we can use to catch up with IT. it'd be a good idea to have someone who isn't plugged into the heart of the universe along in general, just in case IT throws up an anti-reality barrier or an outsider-sifting net or something like that. and..."

he trails off. then he nods his head, just once, and looks her right in the eyes. "and there's a chance - just a chance, I don't even know how we'd do it - that we could save him." he shuts his eyes. "it's probably the last one we'll ever get"

the words hang in the air. he is silent, she is silent, the stars vanish, one by one. finally, she lets out a long, slow breath. "alright"

"all..." his face lights up again. "yes! great! cool! thank you, Azure"

there's maybe a slightly fond twist to her mouth. "let's just get going, Abe"

"yeah, we probably should. if you just..." he tilts his head like he's listening to something, and then nods. "just take my hand"

he holds out his. it's already tinted purple, its borders beginning to fuzz into incoherence like every other object around them - except the clear, sharp outline of the one she extends to grasp it. their palms touch and their fingers lock -

and they plunge beneath the surface of reality

deep, deep down in a sea of possibility

in blackness so far down no hint of form ever pierces it

a single IDEA coalesced in bright white

the world blocked out by the haze of ITs tears

#twitch plays pokemon #mitzi fic #mitzi writing #abe #azure #spoilers i guess #and well this isn't not about #OLDEN #i'm... hoping the next part won't take four months to write but i make no promises #the start of this year was. kinda rough #these'll all go up on ao3 once i'm done with them and had a chance to edit #y'know. whenever that is #take a deep breath. we've got a long way to go #for the record i don't know who exposition guy is either #layer 1: mitzilore

4 notes · View notes

weasleylangs · 4 years ago

Text

swipe right / f.w

Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward. Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention. Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)

AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........

/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!

taglist / @amourtentiaa @weelittleweasley @lumos-barnes @lumosandnoxwriting @loveboyhalo @harrysweasleys @freds-slut @rcwenaclaw @barneswidow @fandomhideout

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

Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile.

She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.

Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long.

‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’

It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something.

She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.

“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.

“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth.

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.

“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.”

Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”

Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!”

“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”

Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?”

Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.

-----

It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what.

It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind.

Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling.

“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in.

“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.

“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.”

Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter.

“Did you at least swipe right on me?”

It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.”

She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.”

“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.”

“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.

“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.

“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”

“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people.

When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will.

He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.”

He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.”

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile.

“Of course, Freddie.”

She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend.

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.

-----

To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x

Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.

From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x

She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel.

It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass.

“What happened today?”

Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.

“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up.

“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.”

Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him.

Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.”

Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?”

“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.

“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?”

That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”

“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking.

“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans.

“You told me to stop being picky!”

“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing.

‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.

Fred, 24. 2km away.

“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.”

Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.”

Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”

“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother.

“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.

“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”

Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

-----

Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.

From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :)

She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.

To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;) > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters

She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.

From: Fred

> im 7’5 if its that important :/

She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.

From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :)

The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred.

But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.

She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.

To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x

She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.

Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of his little brother’s best friends.

-----

Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him.

“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.

“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?”

George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?”

Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”

“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.

“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.

Is he?

“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N.

“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly.

“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis.

“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.”

Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath.

“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.

“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy.

“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw.

“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom.

-----

Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet.

It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together.

Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred.

“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?”

Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet.

He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure.

“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up.

“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.

“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.”

Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves.

“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”

He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at.

Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead.

But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything.

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.

“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment.

They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey.

“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?”

“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.

Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.”

Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant.

“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.

“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”

“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?”

Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?”

He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”

They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms.

From: Neville > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!

She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram.

She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick.

She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.

That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more.

-----

The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.

He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen.

“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.

“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.

“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!”

That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-”

“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up.

“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.”

Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.

“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.

“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.”

Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.”

She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears.

She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.

“Can I please kiss you before I die?”

Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced.

Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers.

Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked.

Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fae writes

402 notes · View notes