#I really feel myself slowly coming alive again for the first time since I lived in Philly

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 12)

Masterpost

“Ya, I have questions,” Jason confirmed, trying not to shift awkwardly in his seat. “I read the slideshow but I don’t seem to fit in either liminals or ghosts, and I have some issues that I think would have been mentioned if they were common?”

“Alright, what are they?” Danny asked tilting his head a little. 

“Well, it’s been better since meeting you, and I know increased aggression was one of the thing mentioned but mine isn’t like Damian’s, or even yours I think. We’ve been calling it Pit Madness. I’ve gotten better at managing it but especially when I got back it was really bad. I… killed a ton of people and I still have a lot of bloodlust that no one is comfortable with.”

“That is unusual, especially directed towards humans. Aside from revenge against whoever killed them dead usually don’t care very much about the living,” Danny said curiously, considering Jason. 

“And I do read as- as dead?” Jason asked, he had been worried about that.

“Well you’re obviously not Dead dead,” Danny said rolling his eyes before he reached across the table. “Here, with touch I can figure out a bit more.” He said and Jason hesitated for a moment before resting his hand in Danny’s.

A cool feeling quickly washed up his arm and over his chest like intangible water. Danny tilted his head to the other side, his brows coming together slowly as he gazed into the middle distance and considered what he was feeling. He let out a hiss and some sort of chitter that couldn’t come from a human throat, then clicked his tongue and the cool feeling dissipated, sinking under Jason’s skin and cooling heat he hadn’t been aware of feeling. 

“Okay, ya that’s weird,” Danny admitted and Jason’s heart dropped. “Best I can equate it to is, like a bone that healed wrong,” Danny said thoughtfully. “You did die before?” He asked, Jason nodded mutely. “Okay, I won’t ask why or how. But best I can tell your soul was shoved back into your body and not given time to get settled back in it’s proper position before whatever was done to bind it in place. So you’re alive but with some.. Spiritual nerve and brain damage. Would you be comfortable telling me how you were resurrected?”

“Well, I resurrected myself apparently. I don’t really remember it but apparently about six months after my death I dug myself out of my grave. Before I could get anywhere the League of Shadows found me and dunked me in the Lazarus pit which is this glowing green stuff that heals the dying and kills the healthy. I don’t remember any of it, it was almost a year before I recovered enough to be myself at all.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Danny said, nodding thoughtfully. “My guess would be at first you came back as a revenant, which is basically when a ghost possesses their own corpse to get revenge, not truly a living being. But then this Lazarus pit resurrected your body and your soul got stuck in your living body again without being prepared or intending for that to happen. 

“That’s what I’m guessing happened but I can’t be sure, and I’m not a healer so I don’t really know what to do about it. I’m sure my ghost doctor Frostbite would be happy to take a look at you though! Looks like we’ll be making an appointment for you too,” He joked making Jason chuckle nervously. 

“Well that’s.. Totally fucked up,” Jason said and Danny nodded.

“Ya, dying is basically always fucked up, coming back Specifically for revenge and then getting stuck here long after that’s a motivating factor is messy. I mean, for a human that would be fine, but for people like us,” He gestured between the two of them. “Obsessions are everything so that’s hard. You’ve been cultivating more healthy obsessions I know but you’ll never be the same,” Danny said, and Jason nodded.

He knew as much, he could never go back. Not that he hadn’t always had these sorts of thoughts and inclinations. Once of the reasons Bruce had taken on him and Dick was their murderous inclinations needed to be curbed, for Dick it had work, for Jason… Well it was a combination of a lot of things, it wasn’t really Bruce’s fault it had failed. Other than the fact that he’d let the Joker live far longer than he should have, but that was bleeding-heart-Brucie for you. It was funny, to not really be mad at Bruce anymore, understanding there was nothing else he could have done, and still not be able to forgive him.

Danny must have noticed how Jason had gotten lost in his own head because he reached across the table and covered one of Jason’s clenched hands with his own, soft and cool. “You’re doing really well Jason. It’s a messed up situation but I don't think anyone could have handled it better then you are,” Danny said softly.

Jason didn’t believe it but it felt good to hear and it did settle him a little bit. “Thanks Danny, that means a lot,” he said, giving Danny’s hand a squeeze before pulling back. 

There was a natural break in conversation as the waitress brought their appetizers, and when she left again Jason didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Danny spoke. “Why don’t I tell you a bit about my doctor? Frostbite can be a lot, as much as it would probably be funny to spring him on you I should probably give you a heads up.”

“Ya, ya that sounds good,” Jason agreed, glad to let Danny do the talking for a bit. And when telling him about Frostbite turned into talking about the Yetis, to talking about the Infinite Realms, to Danny info-dumping about space. Well Jason really doesn’t mind, especially with the way it makes Danny light up. It was good to see him happy.

---------

The food was good but Jason didn’t taste much of it, and aside from going “Oh wow!” When he took his first bite of his food Danny didn’t seem to either. At a certain point Jason realized he was going to have to do some talking or Danny was going to keep talking and wouldn’t eat. So he took over, but he didn’t know much about space so he started talking about literature and poetry and Danny listened raptly and finally ate his food.

It was very nice to have someone listen to him like that, it was sort of funny, it looked like it was as fun for Danny to listen to him talk then it had been the other way. Jason thought about how supporting obsessions was important for ghosts to have their obsessions supported. Reading wasn’t Really his obsession, he didn’t think, but it sure was an interest and it felt really good to get to share with someone new. 

By the end of the dinner Jason has well and truly decided that this was a date. Danny was cute, good, and passionate, and a good listener, Oh and strong as Fuck which was always a turn on for Jason. Speaking of powerful…

“Can I ask you another sort of serious question?” Jason asked after they got their dessert. Danny looked up, mouth full and a little smear of chocolate on his top lip, Jason resisted the urge to reach across the table and wipe it off. Danny nodded. “When Damian gave me his little shovel talk he mentioned that you’re going to be a god some day?” He said, tilting his head. Maybe that was a third date sort of conversation but it seemed like it would be important to understanding Danny.

Danny choked a little and swallowed, sighing heavily. “That’s what I’ve been told,” Danny grumbled. “There’s a prophecy apparently, and with how my powers have been progressing even just in the first 2 years since I died, I can already go toe to toe with some Ancients and win so… Ya, I guess it’s probably inevitable, especially since I haven’t stagnated yet. I don’t want to be one really, I didn’t ask for this, but whatever. I probably can’t stop it.” He slumped back in the booth, looking tired. 

Shit Jason shouldn’t have brought that up. “Hey you’ve got time right? That won’t be for a while. Also, what’s an Ancient?” 

“Very old, very powerful spirits. They’re essentially their own pantheon, Ancient is basically just what ghosts call gods.” He said with a shrug.

“Makes sense, I mean gods usually are ancient. Even more reason you don’t have to worry about that right now. I mean you’re far from ancient,” Jason pointed out, earning himself a little smile from Danny. 

“Ya, you’re right,” He agreed and went back to eating his dessert, the conversation moved on to the music they liked.

When the bill came Jason put his card down without letting Danny see what the bill came to and passed it back to the waitress. They lingered in the booth for a while still chatting, unwilling to part ways yet. If Jason didn’t know his family would want Danny home before they went out on patrol he might have suggested they just go to a park and walk for a while. Talk, maybe each take one of his wireless earbuds and take turns picking songs. But he had a feeling Damian really would try to kill Jason if he didn’t get to see Danny home safe. 

Eventually they left, wandering back to Jason’s motorbike and Danny snuggled up to Jason’s back again as they drove back to the manor. The silence was companionable until Jason pulled up, propping the bike up to let Danny get off. He took off his helmet and handed it back to Jason, not letting go immediately when Jason took it so their hands were touching. 

“This was nice, I had fun,” Danny said, blushing a little and looking down.

“It was, we should do it again soon,” Jason agreed, “I’ll text you okay?” 

“You’d better,” Danny teased before walking back towards the manor. 

Damian opened the door for him, shooting Jason a glare before slamming it making him laugh. He was still a child no matter how much he pretended he wasn’t. Jason kicked off on his bike and zoomed off, heading home to get ready for patrol.

Next

[julietsf1]

Home Again - Charles Leclerc x Reader

summary: eight years, one city, and a thousand unspoken words—will a chance encounter in London bring closure, or is there more in store for Monaco's golden boy and the one who got away? (4.5k words)

content: reunion, slight angst, unresolved feelings, childhood friends

AN: another Charles one! I felt like these tropes really suited his vibe, I hope you enjoy!! :)

____________________________________

London always felt like a city of paradoxes - chaotic yet calming, detached yet full of life. As I sipped my cappuccino at a small café tucked away in Soho, I let my mind wander. The same questions had lingered in my mind over the years, growing louder the longer I avoided them. Was it a mistake to leave? Should I have fought harder to keep in touch with him? With Charles?

I shook my head. No, leaving Monaco had been necessary. It was beautiful, yes, but it was like living inside a postcard, picture-perfect on the outside but so painfully hollow within. Everyone was constantly posturing, trying to outdo the next person in opulence, charm, or connections. It was exhausting.

And Charles… he was Monte Carlo personified in so many ways. Stunning, magnetic, the kind of person who made you feel alive just by being in his orbit. But there was something raw and real beneath that glossy exterior, something I’d always seen, even when no one else seemed to. I loved him for it. And maybe, in a way, I hated him too - for thriving in a place that felt like it would suffocate me.

The faint chime of the café door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced up, expecting some trendy Londoner or a tourist fumbling with their map. But instead, my eyes landed on a familiar face, one I hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. Arthur Leclerc.

“Y/N?” His voice was incredulous, his eyebrows shooting up as he stopped mid-step. He looked exactly the same, just a bit taller, a bit sharper around the edges. Still the same boy I remembered from childhood, though, with that mischievous glint in his eye.

I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. “Arthur?”

He grinned, practically bounding over to my table. “Mon dieu, it is you! I wasn’t sure at first, but… wow, what are you doing in London?”

I gestured to my half-empty coffee cup. “Living here. What about you? I thought you’d be… I don’t know, in Monaco or racing somewhere glamorous.”

Arthur slid into the seat across from me without waiting for an invitation, his grin widening. “I was here for a sim session, actually. But you, London? I thought you’d be in Paris or some other philosophy capital, writing about Socrates or something.”

I laughed softly. “Close enough. I came here for university, and I never left.”

“Eight years.” His tone was lighter, but his words carried weight. “It’s been eight years, Y/N. Do you ever go back?”

The question hit me harder than I expected. I took a sip of my coffee to buy myself time. “No,” I admitted. “Not since… well, not since I left.”

Arthur’s expression softened, though confusion lingered in his eyes. “You just… left,” he said gently. “No one really understood why. Charles especially.”

I looked down at my coffee, the words caught in my throat. How could I explain the weight of feeling like an outsider in a world I was supposed to call home?

“I just needed to go,” I murmured. “It wasn’t about anyone else.”

Arthur studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I guess I never really got it, but… if it’s what you needed, then fine.” He paused before leaning forward with a small smile. “Come back. Just for the weekend, for the Grand Prix. I think it’d mean a lot to everyone. To Charles.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. The truth was, I’d thought about going back a hundred times. But every time, I chickened out. Monaco felt like a ghost town to me now, haunted by memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

“I don’t know,” I said finally. “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Arthur said simply. He pulled out his phone and started typing something before I could protest. “There. I signed you up as my guest. No backing out now.”

I stared at him, equal parts annoyed and touched by his insistence. “What if I had plans already?”

“Cancel them,” he shot back with a wink. “But seriously, Y/N, it’s time. Come back. Just for a weekend. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I sighed, knowing I’d already lost this battle. And maybe he was right. Maybe it was time.

…

Monaco hadn’t changed. Not really.

The same sunlit streets curved around the cliffs, the same pastel buildings clung to the coastline, their colors soft and warm under the Mediterranean sun. The harbor was still crowded with yachts that gleamed like polished jewels, reflecting the light off the water’s surface. It was all exactly as I remembered—beautiful in the kind of way that made you feel small and insignificant.

I wasn’t sure what I expected. Maybe cracks in the pristine perfection, signs that time had weathered the place the same way it had weathered me. But Monaco, ever the picture perfect place, refused to bend to time.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t resent it for that. The beauty I had once thought insincere now felt strangely comforting, like being greeted by an old friend who hadn’t forgotten you, even if you had drifted apart.

“Here we are, mademoiselle,” the taxi driver said, pulling up to the paddock entrance.

I took a deep breath and stepped out. The familiar hum of Grand Prix weekend surrounded me immediately - the roar of engines revving in the distance, the buzz of chatter from fans and team members, the faint tang of fuel in the air. It was overwhelming, yes, but also exhilarating. Nostalgia wrapped around me, equal parts warm and suffocating.

“Y/N!” Arthur’s voice rang out, pulling me back to the present. He was waiting just inside the paddock entrance, a wide grin spreading across his face as he waved me over.

I smiled despite myself and walked toward him. “Arthur,” I said, my tone teasing. “You’re not old enough to be drinking espresso yet.”

He laughed, pulling me into a hug that was warmer than I expected. “Eight years and you still won’t give me a break. Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where?” I asked as he led me into the paddock, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him.

“Everywhere,” he said simply. “It’s been years. You’ve missed so much.”

Arthur guided me through the maze of the paddock, pointing out everything with a mix of pride and excitement, as though I hadn’t grown up watching all of this unfold. But I let him have his moment, nodding along and laughing at his commentary.

“You look different,” he said suddenly, catching me off guard. “In a good way, I mean. More… I don’t know, serious. Like you’ve seen things. Learned things.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a very poetic way of saying I look old, Arthur.”

“No, really,” he insisted, his expression earnest. “It’s like you’ve grown into yourself.”

The comment was unexpected, but it warmed me. “Thanks,” I said softly. “You’ve grown up too. A little.”

He grinned. “Don’t let Charles hear you say that. He still treats me like a kid.”

At the mention of Charles, my stomach twisted, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. Arthur must have noticed something, because his tone shifted, gentler now. “I know it’s probably weird, being back here,” he said. “But I think it’s good you came. I think… I think Charles will be happy to see you.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him how wrong I thought he was. Instead, I nodded and let him lead me deeper into the paddock.

…

The paddock was chaos, as always. Media rushing everywhere, team members darting back and forth. But Charles couldn’t focus on any of it.

Because she was here.

He had only seen her for a brief moment, just a glimpse of her stepping out of a taxi and into the paddock. But it was enough to bring back everything; every memory, every laugh, every ache of missing her. She looked exactly like she did before, only prettier. 

It had been eight years. Eight years since she left without a goodbye, leaving him to wonder if he had done something wrong, if he had somehow driven her away. And now she was back, as though she had never been gone.

“Arthur,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. His hand shook slightly as he dialed.

His brother answered on the first ring. “Charles? What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Charles hissed, keeping his voice low as he stepped out of the chaos and into a quiet corner. “Arthur, why didn’t you tell me she was coming?”

There was a pause, then a sheepish laugh. “Ah. You’ve seen her already.”

“Yes, I’ve seen her!” Charles snapped, though the anger in his voice was undercut by the nervous energy bubbling beneath. “You should’ve warned me.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Arthur said, his tone annoyingly casual. “I thought you’d be happy. It’s been years, Charles. Don’t you want to see her?”

Charles ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the wall. “Of course I want to see her. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

Arthur’s voice softened. “You’ll figure it out. You always did with her.”

…

Arthur had been called away to a meeting, leaving me to wander the place on my own. I found a quiet spot near the Ferrari hospitality area, nursing a coffee and trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions in my chest.

Being back here was surreal, like stepping into a memory I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny the comfort of it - the familiar sounds, the smell of the sea air mixed with fuel, the vibrant energy of race weekend.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned instinctively, my breath catching as I locked eyes with him.

Charles.

He stopped in his tracks, his expression a mix of shock and something I couldn’t place, something that made my chest tighten. For a moment, neither of us moved. The weight of eight years of silence hung in the air between us, heavy and unyielding.

Before I could say anything, he turned abruptly and walked away.

…

The roar of the engines drowned out everything else. I stood on the hospitality terrace, surrounded by fans who were shouting encouragement in a chorus of excitement. The energy was contagious, a reminder of why I had always loved race weekends, even when the rest of Monaco felt stifling.

Arthur had left me to sit with some of his friends, but I didn’t mind being alone. It gave me a chance to take it all in—the track, the sea of red Ferrari merchandise, the sun reflecting off the sleek cars. My eyes kept drifting to one in particular, the red number 16 that seemed to glide through every corner as though the circuit were made for it.

Charles.

I hadn’t seen him since he walked away from me in the paddock earlier. It shouldn’t have surprised me; after all, what could we have possibly said to each other in that moment? But it still stung, the abruptness of it, the way he looked at me like I was a ghost he wasn’t ready to confront.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about him. It was about being here, about reconnecting with a part of my life I had left behind.

But as the race unfolded, I couldn’t stop my gaze from following him. Every lap, every overtaking move, every moment of brilliance - it was impossible not to be drawn in. Charles had always been talented, but seeing him now, so focused and in control, was something else entirely. It was breathtaking.

The crowd around me erupted as Charles crossed the finish line, taking the victory in a masterful final lap. People were cheering, waving flags, hugging strangers in celebration. I found myself smiling, caught up in the infectious energy of the moment.

But my smile faltered as I saw him step out of the car. The joy on his face was undeniable, but there was something else—something in the way his eyes scanned the crowd, as though he were looking for someone.

For a split second, I thought he might be looking for me. But then I shook my head, brushing the thought away. Charles had the whole world celebrating him right now. Why would he waste a second of it on someone who had been gone for so long?

Still, as he climbed onto the podium and lifted the trophy, I couldn’t help but feel that same strange pull I had always felt with him. It wasn’t just admiration or pride; it was I only felt with him.

As the celebrations spilled into the paddock, where the Ferrari garage was alive with champagne showers, laughter, I kept my distance, lingering near the back of the crowd as the team surrounded Charles, congratulating him.

Arthur spotted me and made his way over, a grin plastered across his face. “Pretty incredible, huh?” he said, motioning toward the scene.

I nodded. “He’s… he’s amazing,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Arthur gave me a look, something between knowing and sympathetic. “You should come to the afterparty,” he said. “We’re all heading to Rimaldi later. It’ll be fun.”

I hesitated, the thought of being in a room full of people who knew Charles, who had been part of his world all these years, making my stomach twist. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t overthink it,” Arthur said, cutting me off. “It’s just a party. No pressure.”

I forced a smile, but the weight in my chest didn’t ease. “We’ll see,” I said, knowing full well I wasn’t going to go.

***

The party at Rimaldi was everything Charles had come to expect from these celebrations—loud music, overflowing champagne, and a sea of people he barely recognized. The restaurant’s cozy atmosphere had been transformed into a chaotic celebration, with glasses clinking and laughter filling every corner. Fans and acquaintances congratulated him as though they were old friends, slapping him on the back and offering toasts in his honor.

Normally, this was his element. He was good at this—the smiling, the handshakes, the polite small talk that came with being the center of attention. On any other night, he would have been content to let the noise and the crowd carry him, to let it fill the empty spaces he so often ignored. But tonight was different.

Tonight, no matter how many times he raised his glass or laughed along with a joke, he couldn’t shake the gnawing restlessness that had been with him all day. His mind kept drifting, pulled away from the party and back to the one place he couldn’t seem to avoid—her.

She’d looked the same and yet completely different. The years had softened some edges and sharpened others, but it was still her. Y/N, the person who had once been his closest friend, his anchor in a world that often felt overwhelming. He thought he had moved on from wondering why she left, why she cut him off, but seeing her again brought it all back in a rush.

He barely touched his drink, the glass sweating in his hand as he leaned against the edge of the bar. Across the room, Arthur caught his eye, a knowing grin on his face as he raised his own drink in a silent toast. Charles frowned and turned away, pretending not to notice.

“Charles! Congratulations!” A voice pulled him back to the moment. A well-dressed man, someone he vaguely recognized as a sponsor, clapped him on the shoulder. Charles offered a tight smile, exchanging a few polite words before excusing himself.

The truth was, he wasn’t really here. Not mentally. The louder the party grew, the more it grated on him, every laugh and cheer feeling like static in his ears. His thoughts kept circling back to the paddock, to the way her eyes had met his for that brief, electric moment. She had looked surprised, hesitant, but not angry. That was something, at least.

But then she had disappeared, and he hadn’t been able to stop replaying it in his mind—the way she stood there, so poised and composed, and then was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

By midnight, he couldn’t take it anymore. The laughter and music blurred into background noise as he stood, shaking his head at someone offering him another drink. He muttered something about needing rest and slipped out through the side door, ignoring Arthur’s raised eyebrows as he left. His brother didn’t stop him, though, and Charles suspected Arthur knew exactly where he was going.

The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city’s energy winding down after the race. Charles drove aimlessly at first, his hands tight around the steering wheel. The roads he knew so well blurred together as his thoughts raced faster than his car ever could.

He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t even know if she would want to see him. But none of that mattered, because the one thing he did know, the one thought that consumed him, was this:

He needed to see her.

***

The knock at the door startled me.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table—12:27 a.m. I had been lying on the hotel bed for the past hour, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the day. Arthur’s invitation, the race, seeing Charles for the first time in years—all of it felt like too much, like I had stepped back into a world I didn’t belong to anymore.

Another knock, firmer this time.

I sat up, my heart racing. Maybe it was Arthur, coming to drag me to the afterparty. Or worse, maybe it was a staff member telling me something had gone wrong with my reservation. My stomach twisted as I padded across the room, hesitating before unlocking the door.

But when I opened it, it wasn’t Arthur or hotel staff standing there.

It was Charles.

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. He was dressed casually—dark jeans, a fitted jacket that hinted at his frame—but there was nothing casual about the look in his eyes. They flickered between me and the floor, restless, as though he were trying to piece together why he was even here.

“Hi,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady.

I stared at him, too stunned to respond at first. “Charles,” I managed after a moment. “What are you doing here?”

His shoulders dropped slightly, like he’d been holding his breath. “Can we go for a drive?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

“Yes,” he said, his tone firmer this time, though not unkind. “I need to talk to you. And I can’t do it here.”

I hesitated, glancing back into the room like it held the answer. But there was no answer waiting for me, no excuse strong enough to keep me from following him. “Okay,” I said softly. “Let me grab my coat.”

The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city winding down after the race. Charles drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the gearstick. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the road, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with everything unsaid.

I kept stealing glances at him, trying to read the expression on his face, but it was unreadable. It wasn’t anger exactly, but it wasn’t calm either. It was something in between—a tension I couldn’t quite place.

Finally, he turned onto a small road overlooking the harbor and parked. He shut off the engine but didn’t move, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he stared out at the lights reflecting on the water.

“Why did you leave?” he asked finally, his voice breaking the silence like a crack of thunder.

I swallowed hard, my hands twisting in my lap. “I didn’t know how to stay,” I said quietly. “Monaco… it wasn’t the same for me as it was for you. It felt fake, like I was living in a place where everything was about appearances and nothing was real. I couldn’t breathe there.”

He turned then, his gaze sharp and searching. “So you left without a word? Without even telling me?”

I met his eyes, feeling the sting of his words. “I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“Understand?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Y/N, you were my best friend. I would have done anything for you, but you didn’t even give me the chance.”

The anger in his tone cut deep, but beneath it, I could hear something else—hurt. And that was worse.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said softly. “But I had to go. For me.”

Charles shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Do you know how many times I thought about calling you? About flying to London to find you? But I didn’t, because I told myself that if you wanted to talk to me, you would.”

I clenched my hands together, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I thought about telling you,” I said softly. “But I was scared. Scared that if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to leave. And I had to leave, Charles. I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

“I would have let you go if that is what you wanted. I just wish I had known.” He said, looking deep into my eyes. 

I felt a lump rise in my throat. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Even a text or a quick call would have made the difference, Y/N.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “You blame me for no contact, but you never reached out either.”

His jaw tightened, his hands gripping the steering wheel again. “Because I didn’t think you wanted me to,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “You didn’t leave a door open, Y/N. Not for me, not for anyone.”

The anger in his tone cut deep, but beneath it, I could hear something else—hurt. And that was worse.

We fell into silence, the weight of our words hanging heavy in the air. My chest felt tight, my emotions raw and unsteady. I looked out at the harbor, the city lights shimmering like distant stars, and took a deep breath.

“Explain it to me,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Because I don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve spent eight years not understanding.”

My chest felt tight, the weight of everything we had been avoiding pressing down on me.

“I was scared,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “Scared that if I stayed, I’d lose myself. Scared that if I saw you again, I’d lose the courage to leave. And then… after your dad…” I trailed off, the memory too painful to finish. “I didn’t know how to come back after that.”

Charles’s expression softened, the anger fading into something more vulnerable. “You could have come to me,” he said quietly. “You should have come to me.”

I shook my head, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “And what would I have said? ‘Sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most’? I couldn’t face that, Charles. I couldn’t face you.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the city outside.

My chest felt tight, my emotions raw and unsteady, as though years of bottled-up feelings had burst open all at once, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. I turned my gaze toward the harbor, the city lights shimmering like scattered stars on the water, their soft glow blurring slightly as tears pricked at my eyes. The stillness of the moment contrasted sharply with the storm raging inside me.

Charles broke the silence, his voice soft but resolute, as though he’d been holding these words back for far too long. “It shouldn’t have been Arthur who invited you back,” he said, his tone laced with frustration and regret. “It should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one to call you.”

The honesty in his voice hit me like a blow to the chest. I turned to him, my breath hitching as his words sank in. The years apart had been a chasm between us, filled with missed chances and unspoken words, and hearing him acknowledge it felt like a bittersweet relief. My throat tightened, and I struggled to find my voice.

“I know,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “But you didn’t call me. And… neither did I call you. We both let it happen.”

Charles’s jaw tightened, and he looked away briefly, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost fragile. “I didn’t know how to. After you left, I was confused. I didn’t want to admit how much it hurt. And then it just… felt easier to pretend I didn’t care.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back finally slipping free. “The second I got back to Monaco, all I did was look for you,” I admitted, my words coming out in a rush, like I had been holding them in for years. “Everywhere I went, I looked for you. You were everywhere - your face in the streets, your name in conversations, your memory in everything I saw. And yet… you were nowhere.”

I heard Charles inhale sharply, and when I turned back, his eyes were locked on mine, filled with an intensity that made my breath catch. Green and piercing, they were searching for something, some part of me I wasn’t sure I still had to give. Vulnerability. Hope. Regret. I saw all of it reflected in his gaze, and it was almost too much.

“I didn’t know if I wanted to see you again,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know if I could. But now that you’re here…” He shook his head, his expression softening into something raw and earnest. “Now that you’re here, I can’t imagine letting you go again.”

The space between us seemed to disappear in an instant. Charles reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a way that was both tender and desperate. His touch was hesitant at first, as though he was afraid I might pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Then, before I could say anything, his lips met mine.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like we were both testing the waters of something so fragile it might shatter under the weight of our emotions. But it deepened quickly, carrying years of longing, frustration, and unspoken love. It was messy and imperfect, tears mingling with laughter, but it felt like home in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

When we finally pulled apart, Charles didn’t move far. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though grounding himself in the closeness between us, before murmuring, “I don’t want to lose you again. Not ever.”

My heart pounded, each beat echoing the promise in his words. I closed my eyes, letting the moment wash over me, before whispering back, “You won’t.”

In that moment, the weight of the past seemed to lift, leaving something lighter in its place. We weren’t perfect, and neither was this, but it was enough. It was us.

[noblehouseofgay]

Polyjuice

Black Brothers microfic

Mentioned jegulus and wolfstar

Hurt/comfort

Based on this post by @yesiamprocrastinating but dw I gave it a happy ending

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Regulus had died two years ago. Or at least that's what people thought. In reality, Regulus had faked his death and has been living off polyjuice ever since. He works at a bar, one hidden away from the usual crowds and chaos. It's quiet, he honestly enjoys it.

Except tonight. Because tonight. His brother is a customer. He hadn't even seen him first come in, only felt a strange chill down his back. When he turned around to see the familiar figure, he dropped a glass.

"You alright there, mate?" Gods, he hadn't heard his brother's voice in so long. He'd missed it.

Truthfully Regulus had planned to find his brother again after he faked his death. Tell him the truth, make amends. But Sirius had moved on. He had a good life. Regulus couldn't bring himself to ruin it, not again.

"Yes. The glass just slipped." He bent down, cleaning the shards up, trying to keep his hands from shaking. When he stood back up, he looked everywhere but at Sirius. "What can I get you?"

"Something strong, your choice." Regulus nodded.

And then he had a terrible idea. One of his worst yet. This might be his only chance to talk to his brother again. Even if it was with the face of a stranger, he couldn't miss the opportunity.

"Rough night then?" He started mixing a drink, one he knew Sirius used to like.

"Family stuff, always such a fucking mess, y'know?"

"I do. Believe me....I do." Turns out, Regulus was in the mood to make terrible choices tonight. "You have any siblings?"

Sirius nodded. It felt like a light was flickering back on in Regulus' chest. "I did...I- I do. A brother."

"What's his name?"

"James."

Regulus swore his heart stopped in that moment.

He felt like his entire body was going to collapse into itself. Maybe he should've actually died. That would've been better than this.

He bit his lip, hands shaking. He shoved the drink towards Sirius, letting liquid slosh over the side. "Don't lie. It's unbecoming." His voice was venom, using the words their mother had used against them both so many times.

Regulus ripped off his apron and stormed off to the back room, reaching for the door to the alley behind the bar. He gasped for air as the chill of outside hit him.

He threw the apron at a wall and fell to his knees.

It doesn't matter if he was alive or dead. Regulus meant nothing to his brother.

He choked out sobs, digging his nails into his arms. What was even the point anymore? Yes he had lived, but what for?

"You made a mistake, using her words." Sirius was in the alley now. Regulus didn't look. "It's really you...isn't it?"

"Does it matter? I'm not your brother." Regulus dragged himself to his feet, wiping away tears with his sleeve.

"Yes you are, Reg."

"Well I wasn't two minutes ago apparently. Just because you found out I'm alive doesn't change what you said. Dead or alive, James is still my replacement."

Sirius sighed. "Did you even stop to consider I didn't say you because it hurt too much?"

"THEN HURT! I'D RATHER THAT THAN FEELING LIKE YOU FORGOT ME!" His words broke as they came out, he stared at his brother, tears making him blurry. Regulus leaned against the wall, using it so he didn't fall again.

Sirius slowly walked closer. "Reg...why didn't you come find me? I mourned you. I thought I'd lost you for good."

Regulus stared at his brother. He sighed. "I was going to. I really was." Regulus worried at his lip. "But you seemed happy. And I had ruined that once before, I couldn't let myself do it again."

Regulus took a breath in, closing his eyes as he felt the polyjuice wear off. He looked up at his older brother with his own eyes once again.

Sirius' face softened, taking in the sight of his little brother once more.

In a blink, Regulus felt Sirius' arms around him. He froze, he had forgotten what this had felt like. But the feeling quickly felt familiar as he pushed his face into his brother's shoulder. The smell and warmth of his brother felt like home, something he hadn't known since Sirius ran away.

"Come to my flat," Sirius spoke quietly, gently even, like he did when they were kids hiding under the sheets at night, "we'll talk...we'll catch up....because I am not losing you again, Reggie. Never again."

Regulus nodded, body still sagging into his brother's embrace. Sirius kissed his head and helped him stand.

They walked out of the alley in a comfortable silence. "Remus lives with me, but if I remember right, you liked him. I think he'll be happy to know you're alive."

Regulus was always fond of Remus, they were similar in a lot of ways. It would be nice to see him again.

"I'll have to see James again too won't I...." Sirius laughed a little. "Yeah, probably." Sirus had a sly smile. "But you might be happy to know he's single."

Regulus' eyes went wide and his face flushed. He shoved away from his brother. "I do not care if that oaf is single or not."

Sirus laughed. "Yeah, sure, Reggie. I know you hated him at one point, but I also know what your 'hate' can be a disguise for."

Regulus rolled his eyes and scowled. "I hate him. End of story."

Sirius ruffled his hair. "Keep telling yourself that, Reggie."

[maeedrg]

Satoru, Oh Satoru

Y/n’s goodbye letter

ᯓ★

Synopsis : In which you write and send a letter to your ex fiance, Gojo Satoru, before his deathly battle with Sukuna. Broken promise, he wishes to see you again, the love of his life, one last time before it’s too late. [The letter is the Mary’s goodbye letter to Arthur Morgan from RDR2]

Words count : 2k

Warnings : heavy angst, slight comfort, major character death, spoilers of the end of the manga, reader is called « wife » once.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I love Red Dead Redemption 2, and the letter of Mary is haunting me. It’s been weeks since I wanted to write about it, so here we go, with Gojo instead of Arthur Morgan ! English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes.

“My dear Satoru,

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why. I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it.

Satoru, oh, Satoru. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

When I am with you, the world makes sense but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I am so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for leaving you. There's a vulnerable man within you, Satoru, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant, wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free. So please, win, and come out alive.

Goodbye.

y/n”

Are those water drops ?

Satoru blinks once, twice, before realizing that tears roll down his rosy cheeks and wet down the paper. He slowly opens his mouth in a shuddering breath, knuckles tightening against the letter he was holding in his hands. He is crying, Gojo Satoru is crying. Heavens know that this man almost never cried since the day he was born. But the way his heart was hurting so much, each breath being a stabbing inhale, as if a dag was slicing open his lungs and cutting into pieces his poor sweet damaged heart, confirm it. Yes, he cries. He cries this forgotten moment, he cries you, he cries your love, lost in the nostalgia he feels.

The Strongest, no, Satoru, never thought he would lose the love of his life twice. The first time was when you left him years ago, three more exactly, and God it was his own damn fault. He knows it more than anyone else, more than you.

The second was today, when he opened this letter you sent him and read it 5, 6, 12, 23 times. Hell, at first he thought he was hallucinating when he received it this morning. Why ? Why today ? The day he was supposed to have no single regrets, because he knew it would be the last time he would be on earth. He prayed that you forgot about him, hated him, cursed him in your soul forever, so he could die without your and any regrets.

23rd of December. Tomorrow, it will be the 24th. Please, please, please. He doesn’t want to die now. Will he really win ? That was just a sentence said to reassure himself, to convince his students and his own heart that everything will be alright. But the “what if” came along, and he ended up writing letters to his students in case he would indeed lose tomorrow. Including you. His long lost love. His ex fiance.

But for fuck’s sake, he didn’t expect you to send him one before he could even finish writing yours.

That hurts, so damn much. Was he even breathing anymore ? He didn’t know. But he had to breathe, everyone wanted him to breathe and to stand up. They needed him. Everyone needed him. But all he wanted, in the end, was for you to need him. Even if he told you the contrary years ago. That was all a lie, to you and himself. Satoru made you leave him, but that was for your sake.

Marrying The Strongest meant having a deadly bounty on your head, the end of your peaceful love, and maybe the end of your own life. He never really regretted what he did, he preferred for you to be safe and sound, away from him. Even if he missed your pretty eyes, your oh so sweet lips, the warmth of your soul and the comfort of your arms.

But now, some hours before his last day on earth, he regretted it more than anything. In the end, he would have wanted to spend his last years in your company if it meant having this kind of death. God, he could have called you his wife. He wasn’t dumb, Satoru was far too smart for his own good. Tomorrow will be his last. There was no need to be delusional about it, but it hurts. It hurts so much. More than he wanted it to be. The Strongest never gets hurt, after all. Because he doesn’t allow it to happen.

He kisses the ring, the engagement ring, he gave you years ago before you returned it to him in this letter. He slowly closes his watery eyes, biting the inside of his mouth, lost in thoughts. He wanted to feel your lips against his one last time. He wanted to be in your arms one last time. He wanted to hear your name coming out of your mouth one last time. He just wanted to see you, before his battle against Sukuna. Was he egoistical to want that, after everything that happened in between the two of you, after the letter you sent ?

“I just… don’t care anymore,” he muttered, standing back up and softly sliding your letter against his still beating heart.

Seeing you was his last wish. May it be granted.

Some minutes after, barely 20, he was in front of your door. It was an unholy hour to grant you a visit, the clock ticking 11.58 PM. In two minutes it would be his official last hours on earth, Christmas Day. If Santa Claus was real, then you were the biggest gift he could ask for.

The moment you open your door, sleepy eyes, greasy pajamas, and then face distorting in utter disbelief when staring at your ex fiance standing right in front of you, time stops. Satoru couldn’t believe his own eyes. His Six eyes were useless, his soul was already screaming to him that the person in front of him was the love of his life.

“Satoru… ?” you whisper, unable to know if you were dreaming, or not. He died a little when he finally heard his name slipping out of your lips after so many years.

You can’t even utter another word, that his large frame is on you. His strong arms wrap around your body, cradling you in the depth of his chest and undying love for you. He inhales, you smell the same as he remembers. Oh, sweet Lord, how he missed this. He felt his heart beating again, his lungs working finally normally, he was breathing. Yes, he was breathing. Thanks to you. He never felt more alive in this moment. What a duality. A cruel duality.

“I did read your letter. Let me say my goodbyes to you too, y/n. One last time, I beg you,” he murmurs in the crook of your neck. Gojo Satoru never begs. Yet, here he was, ready to go on his knees like he did when he proposed to you, to implore one last blessing moment in your presence.

Your feelings were conflicted, you were in the arms of the man that broke your heart, and from whom you just made your goodbyes. Maybe that was mean of you, to send this letter the day before his battle against Sukuna. When you saw it on the news, you understood that it would be maybe your last time being able to reach to him. You told him what you needed to say. For you, that was final. But one thing that you didn’t take accountability for, was his soul wrenching love for you. And, in this small moment of peace before war, you decided to indulge in his vulnerability, no, yours. Wait, both of you were more vulnerable than you could ever be again.

“Satoru.”

“I missed you,” he whispers as he slowly lift his head, blue glossy eyes meeting yours intimately. Tears, rolling down. You couldn't fathom it.

“I’m so, so, oh so sorry. Do you forgive me for breaking your heart ?” His voice is like a whimper, and you feel a part of your soul breaking at his pleading. Your lips quiver.

“Yes, Satoru. And do you forgive me too for breaking yours ?”

“I never resented you,” he closes his eyes saying that, leaning his forehead against yours. That was unspoken, but you understood the depth of his words. After all, you knew him better than anyone else. He made you leave him, on purpose, and you were aware why he did that. You indeed left, he watched you doing it, unable to stop this tragedy from happening, because you both knew that marrying each other would have been probably the biggest dream and nightmare of your life. You both broke each other's hearts that day.

“I never did too,” you answer, closing your eyes.

“I love you, you know that, right ? Always did."

“I love you, Satoru. I know that you do. And…” you both open back your eyes at the same time, “I realize that loving you was my greatest curse, but your eyes grant me mercy. In them I see the salvation of my soul, but I know that your heart has already cursed me,” you finish in a breath coming from the depth of your being.

Two tears roll down at your answer. One from your eye, one from his. He sniffs, unable to suppress his emotions, and then slowly take out of his pocket two objects. First, a letter, bigger than the one you wrote him. It was unfinished, he didn’t have the time to. He softly puts it in the crook of your hand.

“Read it if I’m gone, if I’m not, then give it back to me in person," he asks you, his pearly white lashes getting wet from the tears in his eyes. You both knew deep in your hearts that you would never be able to give it back to him. Yet, you force a smile on your face.

“I promise.”

The second object, was your engagement ring. Satoru knew it was oh so egoistical of him to give it back, when you send it attached to the letter this morning. He refused to keep it. He still had his on his finger, he wanted you to keep it too.

You said in your letter that you refused to keep it anymore because you cared for it far too much and it reminded you too much of him. Satoru wanted you to remember him. He was sure that when he will die, people would forget about him, and move on. He came to accept that fact. People only cared about the farthest and the greatest grand Gojo Satoru, The Strongest. Once death would take this title from him, he would have nothing left, aside from you.

“Only you can carry my love. Never forget that. You said that you hope by returning it to me you can finally be free. For my christmas gift, let me take your freedom,” he pleads, no, begs. His hand was shaking as he gently slid back the ring on your finger, it was his ultimate wish.

A sob escapes your lips. You cursed him for doing that to you. But how could you be mad, when granting the death wish of your long lost fiance ? You look back at the shiny ring, and remember how you blessed Heavens the day he proposed to you. It hurts to know that you never had the chance to call him your husband. Your love was doomed from the beginning. The world was cruel, so cruel.

“I’ll feel alive as long as I’m in your heart, may you never forget me,” he finishes, tangling his fingers in yours.

His left hand cradles your cheek, and you slowly lean towards him. His lips melt against yours, in this final goodbye, last kiss, last shared moment, heart to heart beating in sync. Your souls intertwined, and Satoru wished he could just die right now in your arms, in the sweetness of your lips and warmth of your love.

“In another life, Satoru. In another life we’ll marry and love each other how we wanted to, just not in this one,” you whisper like a secret to the world against his lips. He smiles through the tears.

“I’ll gladly die with a smile, now.” At least he could die the same day as Geto Suguru, one year after him, joining him in death. At least he could die knowing you loved him no matter what. At least he could die knowing that in his next life he could be by your side, again.

You never forgot him. You kept the ring on your finger, until your last breath and till death do you part. It did.

THE END

[hearts4werka]

Missing

Summary: it’s been six months since your sister went missing, everyone gave up on the investigation but you’re determined to find her no matter what but someone comes along the way… Genre: Stalker, missing person, thriller, horror, crime investigation, dark aesthetic, stalker romance? (We won’t know yet) Warnings: mention of dark topics that may trigger some readers (idk which exactly, write them in the comments) ends on a cliffhanger. Read At Your Own Risk! authors note: this is my first fic and ive always been a fan of horror and stories that have me on the edge of my seat so writing this was a pleasure. English is not my first language so minor grammar mistakes might occur. Hope you enjoy!

This is part 1 of the ‘Missing’ series!

Its been six months since my sister disappeared, vanished out of thin air without a trace left behind.

I tried to get the police to continue investigation after three months but they always say the same thing ‘she’s probably dead’ or ‘there’s no possibility she’s still out there alive’ so I decided to try and collect more information by myself since I believe I can find her and finally reunite which her after so long from being apart from each other.

A month ago on the anniversary of my sisters disappearance, I found out I have a stalker and it started to make my anxiety worsen which only adds onto the struggles in my life I have to deal with and a mixture of thoughts racing through my mind at once, I could feel myself loosing control and desperately trying to grasp reality at times, to deciphering what is real and what lives in my head becoming harder and harder every day. Feeling myself slowly loose my mind in this dark world I’ve been placed in.

My best friend Nora was helping with the investigation while the police was operating but when they called quits on the case, she went with them and left me to be alone on the case.

My brain refuses to believe she’s dead, she’s out there and I’ll find her no matter what. No matter the price I’ll have to pay

| - 🍂 - |

Im sitting in my living room after a long day of work, reading the front page of the mornings newspaper titled “Young adult vanished without a trace in the town of Boston” they ended her investigation three months ago and still write about her in the newspaper since they’re clearly out of interesting stories.

It’s full of conspiracy theories of what could have happened to her, there’s even one that says there’s a possibility she’s been abducted by aliens? I shake my head in disbelieve reading through that article. I call complete bullshit. People still believe in aliens these days?

Ive been through numerous newspapers and articles I could find on the internet but it was always the same thing, she’s probably kidnapped or have been killed by her potential kidnapper. I’ve gathered so many newspapers in the span of the few months that a pile is starting to form on my coffee table.

I push my sliding glasses up the bridge of my nose when a sudden feeling of being observed washes over me. My gaze rips away from the newspaper to try and find something or someone but I find nothing in the darkness while the only source of light is a single lamp next to the couch along with the moonlight pooling through the windows.

Theres no one in the room besides me and the shadows taunting me for still having hope that she’s out there, what if she really isn’t alive anymore? I’m ripped out of the spiral of my thoughts with a single buzz of my phone. Checking what it could be I see it’s a message from an unknown number, by the content of the message there’s only one person that it could be. My stalker.

Unknown : Still searching for that little sister of yours?

Looking around the dark room I once again find nothing, I gaze back down at the message and type out a response, the noise of my nails hitting the phone screen echo and spread around the space surrounding me.

Me : Leave me alone.

After the message got sent, I drop my phone next to me on the couch and return my focus to the newspaper. Flipping through the pages to find anything useful, I’m desperate at this point for any kind of information that might help.

Slowly loosing hope that I’ll find anything in the newspaper, one article in particular catches my eye…

[tireddovahkiin]

📝: How would your story in canon go? How would you influence the events of the original story? & 👀: How does your ship with your f/o influence both of your characterisations and the world? Would there be any interesting metas written about your dynamic?

Hiiii thanks for the askkk ;D sorry for the long post in advance, I had to rant a bit >.<

I'll answer for Devil May Cry this time :)

For the first question, I haven't really thought about it in details, but I know that if I were to appear in any of the games, it would probably be in Devil May Cry 2. I thought of a funny scenario, where technically, Dante finds a young child "lost" and wandering alone, looking for something, and about to be attacked by some demons, but he saves me in the last second. I introduce myself, and tell him that I lost a special 'friend' of mine. A yellow puppy plush, named Junior. (For those who don't know, Junior is like a manifestation of my actual irl plushie that is alive and has some sort of magical powers and stuff! He basically represents like a guardian figure, and my comfort object/childhood, and follows me anywhere and everywhere ^^)

That is like the only explanation he gets from me LMAO💀I was generally a non-verbal child, and I just also infilcted it on little me in the game XD Poor Dante does try to get answers from me, but I either don't answer, shrug, or shake my head.

That is basically a whole "additional" mission in the game, trying to help the little me find my lost toy friend. When he eventually does help me, Dante can only be left dumbfounded as an actual plushie moves and speaks as a real living being. Thanking Dante, I dissapear off behind a corner, and if he chooses to follow me, there won't be anyone behind. Quite mysterious, right?

I do appear once or twice again, somewhere settled during the DMC Animated series, to thank Dante again, and that is when I meet Patty😌 we kinda become strange friends in a way, but I hide the fact that Junior is alive🤧. From then on, I stop appearing, and Dante thinks we'll never meet again...

UNTIL BEFORE DMC4!

Basically, during one of his many missions, Dante actually gets unexpected help, that happens to be a person that is just so awfully familiar to him. Handling a great crossbow (YES that is my weapon I LOVE CROSSBOWS), with a strange yellow puppy on their shoulder... AND THE HE REALIZES!!! It's Jayden expect big and all grown :3 I stick around and help him, before returning together to his office, and that is when I ACTUALLY talk to the man about me LOL XD

Seeing how my skills actually are very good for a hunter, he decides to let me tag along when I can, and I basically become a part-time devil hunter! Since I am not always around, that is alright, but when I AM, I always make sure to lend a hand :>

And THAT, is basically how I met everyone else. I went on a few missions with Trish and Lady, and we also became good teammates. I also got along with Dante pretty well, we became some sort of buddies, ya could say ><

Now, how I met my pretty pookie boyf NERO? After the events of DMC4. It's a bit of a funny scene, actually😂He finds me napping my ass off on the couch HAHA Dante is all nonchalant about it, and even tries to shush Nero to be quiet with a finger LOOOOL basically, napping is all I do when I hang around the office, so Dante, Trish and Lady got used to it. Except for Nero, he was so confused💀

That is how our friendship started! We would be paired the most for missions, by Dante no less, when Nero joined to work for his uncle. Nero was still with Kyrie during that period, but did slowly start to "loose" feelings. Truth is, I actually got a crush on him pretty quickly, but hid it from everyone because... Yeah, he was already in love :( Basically, a year passed before we actually got together, and Nero slowly realised his true feelings, what a dumbass (i love him.)

Now, as for the events in DMC5, I didn't come to that part yet, because I haven't even watched DMC5 yet T0T I'm waiting for my friend to finish showing me his playthrough of DMC3 before I continue to the last game. But, yeah, that is basically it!

For the second question... Um... I kinda don't understand it??💀💀💀😭😭😭 sorry, If i knew I'd answer it, really, but I'll have to skip this one😔 if someone would be so kind to explain what is a meta and all that...

[mykpopwire]

exclusive interview: BANG YONGGUK shares moments from 'III' US TOUR 2024, challenges, future plans and more.

Q: Congratulations on completing your ‘III’ The US TOUR 2024! How did you feel to successfully wrapped up a full month of concert?

I want to say thank you so much to the fans who gave me so much inspiration and love. Without them, I couldn't carry out the schedule. It felt like we performed together in every performance.

Q: What was it like during the tour? Any moments that you want to share with fans?

I sang all the songs on my new album live. It was just released, and it was really special that so many people sang it together. These were moments where I felt deeply in my heart how much they loved me and my music.

Q: You’ve been to Europe, Asia, America, almost all over the world. Did you perform differently each time or did you try to convey the same experience?

Usually, I make one chapter of setlist for a tour. I think I naturally take the ending and encore songs according to the atmosphere of each city or country. After a year-long tour, we prepare a new set list from the next year. That's why I think I put a lot of time and thought into making a set list for the tour.

Q: Can you describe the atmosphere and vibe of your tour that will make people want to attend again and again?

It's hard to fill up the entire 2 hours by myself. I think it's a special moment that the fans fill the empty space on the stage together. I'm not a good speaker, so I'm going to sing at least one more song live rather than a comment. I feel like I'm performing together with the fans. I think that creates an atmosphere where my performances become special.

Q: Performing every other day must have been challenging for you. How do you keep your energy and voice healthy throughout the tour?

It's not easy. This time, there were performances that I was not in good condition, and there were moments when I blamed myself. I refrain from going out as much as possible and stay inside the hotel only before the performance. I only take a light walk when I go outside. It's important to save energy and prevent other illnesses. Sometimes, my manager comes to check if I'm alive, and I think it's the only time I've met someone. Unfortunately, that's how I keep myself in good shape and protect myself throughout the tour. (laughs)

Q: What should we look forward to from your next plan?

I'm preparing for a new project in summer, and I've been planning it slowly since the U.S. The moment I came back to Korea after the tour, I haven't had a day off yet.

Q: In the future, when people look back at Bang Yongguk and the music you’ve made, is there a certain way you would like it to be seen or remembered?

I like to hear that Bang Yongguk's music is like Bang Yongguk. If people remember me as an artist who has his own style, regardless of the chart rankings and album sales, I think my career has succeeded just by hearing that. That's why I make music.

Q: To all your fans and listeners who wants to know and learn more about Bang Yongguk, what is the best way for them to do so?

I hope you listen to my first full-length album, "BANGYONGGUK." I think you'll know more about me. And I don't think I'll be able to make an album like that in the future. (laughs)

Listen to Bang Yongguk's "BANGYONGGUK" here!

Q: Thank you so much for spending some time with MY K-POP WIRE! Any last words to your fans?

I would like to express my love and respect to the fans who always give us a lot of love. Please continue to show your interest and support for that way I will show as an artist,  Bang Yongguk. I will be back. Thank you.

*photo courtesy of YY Entertainment

Don’t forget to like, follow and subscribe to MY K-POP WIRE for more K-Pop interview, debut, comeback and event updates!

X (Twitter): mykpopwire

Instagram: mykpopwire

TikTok: mykpopwire

Facebook: MY K-POP WIRE

YouTube: MY K-POP WIRE

Connect with BANG YONGGUK!

X (Twitter): @BAP_Bangyongguk

Instagram: bangstergram

YouTube: BANG YONGGUK

Soundcloud: BANG YONGGUK 

[threeletterslife]

Update

TL;DR: below the keep reading, vote on my update schedule

Hey everyone :) It's been a while—five months since I've last posted on this account and nearly a year since I've posted the 35th chapter of LOD

First and foremost, I want to apologize for being gone much longer than expected, and I will apologize again for being unable to offer more clarity about my absence, for now and in the future. Thank you to everyone who sent kind asks/messages checking up on me and to everyone who was invested enough in LOD to inquire about an update schedule. I felt a lot of guilt for not being active and for not delivering or meeting expectations, so just wanted to send out my sincerest apologies :')

I will attempt to answer the three most commonly asked questions I've gotten during my hiatus in this post:

Will you be continuing LOD?

Yes. As I've said time and time again, I will never abandon a story that I've invested so much of my time into. Call it sunk cost fallacy or delusion but I will finish LOD if it's the last thing I ever fucking do lol. Updates will be slow, however. But I promise you now that I will never actually leave. If I do suddenly disappear for years, that honestly means that I've died lol

When will you be posting a new chapter?

This depends on you guys. In all honesty, I have chapters 36 to 39 "ready" to publish. I am not in the position to write at this moment in time, so this would mean after I post chapter 39, there's no telling when the next update will be :( I have two options for you guys:

OPTION 1: I can post all of the chapters I have written in one go

Pro: You'll have access to all of the existing (and finished) LOD content, which is very well-deserved, so you can binge-read to your heart’s content

Con: You'll probably have to wait over half a year for chapters 40 and beyond

OPTION 2: I can post one chapter monthly/bi-monthly on a consistent schedule

Pro: I'll be able to buy some time (it'll take 4-7 months to post the remaining chapters) to write so that by the time I post chapter 39 (later this year or early next year), I'll most likely have chapters 40+ ready so you won't be as much in the dark about my future update schedule

Con: You'll only get one chapter every ~1.5 months. I also can't guarantee I'll have chapters 40 and beyond ready to go after I finally publish chapter 39 but I'd try my best

Are you alive? How are you doing? Are you okay?

I'm managing, though it's been a while since I've felt like I've been living. I've been in survival mode constantly for the past year, and it's quite draining. But the good news is that I'll be graduating next year with my degrees, so I expect I'll be freer then. I'm currently taking classes and working at my internship so I'm constantly inundated with projects and exams

I have been writing, though. That's one thing in my life that will never change. College has been hard on me, though it has also been such a privileged, fun, and rewarding experience. It helped me grow up or maybe even devolve in some ways. I've met some diabolical people around here, and have had not-so-great experiences that definitely forced me to become less trusting and stern. Sometimes I miss my old self, but I also know that I've grown into someone who can be more tolerant of the complete BS that is occasionally adulthood LMAO

Anyway, I'm extremely oversaturated with STEM everywhere I go, which given my majors, is a no-brainer. But I find great reprieve in art, especially art that I create to heal myself. So I've slowly come to realize that the content that I want to create—and the content that makes me happy to create—is not well-aligned with LOD. Over the past year, I've been working on small side projects, such as an original collection of short stories that I feel really at peace with. I've said it before and I'm saying it again, but LOD has always been my challenge piece. I don't dabble often in fantasy, and I wanted to give it a go; I'll finish what I've started. But I would also hate to reduce what LOD is to a simple word like "fantasy," though that was my excuse to avoid writing it for months. I actually think LOD's a lot more than that. In a way, it's a character study; it's not purely about the magic systems. In fact, I don't even think I put that much emphasis on the magic systems in the first place. It's more about the characters, and what the people have to go through during a war, which I've also realized becomes increasingly pertinent given the political climate right now

I'm getting into ramble-town territory, so I'll stop for now. I think with all that being said, I'm doing okay. I'm exhausted, but I'm also an incredibly privileged person, so I should be grateful for where I am in life right now and the people who have helped me rise to this level (you included!)

I'm excited to graduate, and I'm excited to write every single day once I start my full-time job. My life goal is to publish a book, though I don't think it'll be a novel—either a novella or a collection of short stories. Anyway, if you've come this far, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will forever be grateful for this platform that I have and also be incredibly honored that people read what I put out here. I'll begin posting as soon as the poll is completed

Thank you for being patient with me, and I hope you stay happy and healthy <3

[laangdonn]

your kiss

summary: a quiet night in victors village leads to something unexpected... or was it so unexpected?

pairing: post!mockingjay peeta mellark x katniss everdeen

a/n: first post! so many stories have been sitting in my drafts for years and I finally decided to start posting for fun :)

*************************

the air was quiet, the atmosphere illuminated by a single flickering candle light coming from the kitchen. i knew peeta was awake and in there; his side of the bed was cold and empty when i jolted awake after the third nightmare. 

but to what he was doing i had no clue, so i strategically made my steps quiet against the creaky wood floors so as not to scare him. i peered around the corner of the archway, seeing him sitting against one of the counters, a full cup of something brown looking beside him. 

is that-? 

“i know you’re there, katniss.” his voice broke the silence and it startled my thoughts to come tumbling through my mouth. 

“since when do you drink?” i choked out nervously at being caught.

he peered down to the full glass beside him, a small smirk playing on his lips before it disappeared completely. “don’t worry, i took a small sip and almost spit it out. don’t know why haymitch likes it so much.” 

i almost laughed, but didn’t find it in me to do so fully. when i didn’t say anything, he did. 

“why are you awake?” 

“i could ask you the same question.” i retorted, leaning against the archway. 

he sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall against the light brown cabinets. “couldn’t sleep, figured i’d try haymitch’s suggestions.” 

his eyes opened back up to stare at me, asking his question again without words. 

“nightmare… you weren’t there.” 

“sorry,” he said sleepily, shutting his eyes again. “i was meaning to come back up but i… i guess i just got lost in thought.” 

i contemplated going over and sitting beside him, but i thought against it, not wanting to disturb his peace with the confusion that i know would flood his mind. 

after he came back from the capitol, things were different. not to say things were bad; we just existed together. side by side. sometimes a bit closer than other times. but we took comfort in each other, relished in the others’ existence and continued to be surprised at the fact that we were both alive. 

once i realized the air was quiet again i decided i had found where peeta was and i should be on my way back to bed. 

nodding at his previous words, i slowly maneuvered my way off the archway and spun on my heel to leave, when his low voice stopped me. 

“katniss?” 

“yeah?” 

“do you think it’ll always be this way?” 

his question caught me off guard, majorly. i stood there, stumped. “what do you mean?” 

“i mean-“ he cleared his throat, as if stalling to say what he meant. “i mean this. what we’re doing together. we live in the same house… sleep in the same bed… but that’s it. is that all its ever gonna be?” 

i couldn’t really find the words to answer because i truthfully didn’t know the answer myself. for the past year this is how it has been, why fix something that isn’t broken? 

but then my mind flashes to all the times my eyes have wandered farther than they should’ve, toward the soft lips that curl when he smiles, to his piercing blue eyes that cut through my gaze, the feeling i get when he holds me after i’m done screaming his name, watching him die in a nightmare that has me crippled for hours. 

i wonder what it’d be like to give into my impulses, to feel what i know i feel deep down for him. the warmth that spreads through me even then, as i stand in his presence, just feet from him. 

“i…” 

“im sorry, i shouldn’t have asked.” he quickly dismisses, noticing how uncomfortable i was. “go back up to bed, i’ll be there in a bit.” 

but i couldn’t seem to move my feet, all i could do was stand there, watching him, trying to empathize with him. i’ve already caused him so much pain, i refused to give him any more reasons to hate me. 

the candlelight flickered, illuminating his sharp jaw, and the eyes that i know held so much pain and heartbreak; at my hands nonetheless. he stared at the wall in front of him, only turning to face me once he realized i was still there. 

please don’t say my name. please don’t say my name. 

“katniss?” 

the innocent confusion in his voice was all i needed to compel me forward, quickly, and before i comprehended what was happening, i crashed on my knees beside him, pressing my lips right to his, hard. 

he was taken aback, sat frozen against me for a moment before slowly melting into the kiss i gave him. 

his hand reached to cup my face, and i instantly leaned into it, as if we were made to be molded into one. 

we both pulled away, breathless, our chests puffing for air as we stared dumbfounded at each other. 

“why did you do that?” he gasped out, his voice barely above a whisper. 

i shook my head lightly, our eyes in such an intense lock i almost crumbled under the pressure of the blue that seemed to stare right through me. “i don’t know.” 

he just nodded, still looking at me, before dipping his head down gently to grab my lips into his. this time, it was more passionate, a gentle glide against each other instead of rigid with impulse. 

i was brought back to the moment on the beach, during the quarter quell, when we both thought all

hope was lost. the kiss was a desperate attempt to show our love as it would be the last true thing we’d ever get to do. one of us wasn’t making it alive, at least we thought so. 

and in a way we were right, i had lost peeta after we were separated and the sky fell and crumbled into fire and ash at my arrow. but he became mine again; in a way, in our own way. 

after pulling back again, just slightly so his lips were grazing mine as he spoke, “your kiss… real or not real?” 

i found it hard to capture his lips into my own at the sincerity of his words, and how close we were, but i managed, 

“real, peeta.”

*************************

[blackjackkent]

"It is absolutely preposterous that any of us are alive!" Hope cries out as Raphael's body collapses against the marble floor. A pause, and then her eyes widen. "Maybe we're not. PINCH YOURSELF AND CHECK WE'RE NOT DREAMING THE LAST OF OUR LIVES AS WE DIE SCREAMING!"

Hector looks at her blearily; leaning against the wall, he slides slowly down into a sitting position, feeling the slow creep of pain through him as the adrenaline fades and the burns all over his body start to make themselves known. "We're fine, Hope..." he mutters hoarsely. "We did it."

"Then we're not just fine - we're spectacular!" she says brightly. "What a wonderful, jubilant, glorious day!" Her head snaps sideways, looking to one corpse amidst the pile of bodies in the chamber. "OH BUT MY POOR SISTER KORRILLA!" she bellows, a sudden wail of grief. "It is not right that she died, and it makes me want to weep an ocean..."

Hector lets out a heavy breath, following her gaze. Korrilla is stretched on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling; her head sits at an odd angle where Yurgir broke her neck. "I don't think there was any way to save her," he says quietly.

Her eyes narrow thoughtfully. "When we were children, she always kept the last piece of pastry for me. And bloodied the nose of the bullies who pulled my hair... She was my sister..." A pause. She squares her shoulders and looks up at Hector with a sudden earnestness. "But as a wise woman once said, there's no point in crying over spilt blood. We must go on. And despite all the years I've lost, I have enough love in my heart to guide you home."

Narrator: For the first time since you heard her voice, Hope seems calm. And the peace flows from her into you, soothing your very soul.

Hector half-closes his eyes, focusing on the welcome moment of serenity. It does nothing to dull the pain of his injuries... but it means, at the very least, that this is over. And he can't help admiring the tormented dwarf's bravery in this moment - to still look forward after everything that has happened to her.

"What will you do?" he asks.

She smiles just a little. "I'll hope," she says simply. "What else? I hope I'll see Korrilla again one day, and that she'll say sorry, and I'll tell her she's forgiven. I hope I'll find all the pieces of my mind that fell out of my head over all those years, and that I'll be able to put myself back together again. I hope the echoes of pain will fade, and memories of sorrow will die, and that you'll visit me here some day."

She steps forward, rests a hand against his cheek. Her palm feels feverishly warm, and yet the touch is gentle and soothing. "And I hope you have a happy ending of your own."

He looks up into her eyes, and though he smiles back, it is a sad expression. Little chance of that, I think, little one, he thinks to himself. But the words are a blessing, kindly meant, and he folds them into his soul where they will live alongside all the other little bits of hope he carries with them, in the hope that they will bolster him when the dark times come...

-----

Minsc is looking around wildly, in search of another enemy to strike; the wild frenzy of the rage is in his eyes and he narrowly avoids slamming his trident into Karlach as he turns.

"Easy, buddy," she mutters, putting out a hand on his arm. She can feel that every sinew of his body is stretched tight, his heart pounding.

It takes a few moments for him to calm, for the mad rage to clear out of his eyes, for him to realize that Raphael is dead. "He has killed her!" he snarls at Karlach, who flinches back under the ferocity of his expression. "He has killed Jaheira! Another witch dead before Minsc's eyes!"

Were the moment less tense, Karlach might point out that Jaheira had insisted she was not Minsc's witch, but it's not the point, not really. Witch or not, Minsc has watched his best friend crumble in the fire, just as Karlach once watched Hector die in a similar sea of flame. And there is some greater weight in Minsc's words too - a history of other deaths that could not be prevented.

"I know-- I know," Karlach says hastily. "But it's all right. We can revive her. I've got a scroll in my pack--" She pulls one of the curled sheets of paper out, offers it towards him.

He snatches it from her wordlessly, crouches at Jaheira's side, beginning to mumble the words of the spell as Boo scurries back and forth in agitation on his shoulders. Karlach stands next to him, shifting uncertainly, not sure whether to stay with him or go to Hector...

The pale gold light of the Revivify spell begins to swirl around Jaheira's body; she twitches, coughs painfully, her eyes flickering open.

"Ah," she says vaguely, looking up at Minsc. "Is it over, then?"

Minsc's eyebrows lift and he smiles widely in relief and joy. Heedless of her injuries, he lifts her in a full body hug; she gives a soft grunt of pain and pushes weakly at his shoulder.

"Careful, you great ox of a man," she mumbles. "I am only so many inches from death's door; take care you do not knock me back over the threshold..."

"Should I do so, Minsc would travel into death to find you," Minsc says gravely. He loosens his embrace but does not quite let go of her. "I failed you," he adds soberly. "I did not protect you, my--" A slight pause. "My friend."

"Did you not?" she asks with a slight smile. "I am here, and our enemy is not. What more could be asked?"

Minsc narrows his eyes thoughtfully. "I think this is wisdom which Minsc does not form so easily in his brain," he says slowly. "But if Jaheira says it is so, then he must believe it."

With the situation in something resembling calm, Karlach draws back away from them, moves to kneel at Hector's side. "All right, soldier?" she asks quietly.

He looks up at her with a weary smile, presses his palm to the chest of her armor as if reassuring himself of her presence. "I never grow tired of this," he says dryly. "The pain in every limb, the feeling of having been run over by rampaging rothe."

"Glorious, isn't it?" she answers in similar tone, and ruffles her fingers gently through his hair. It's sticky with blood, like the rest of him, and her fingers come away covered in it. "But hey... not so bad, the feeling of going to rest afterwards, right? We should get to that part."

"I couldn't agree with you more..."

[camojacketfag]

what grounds you when you feel like you want to escape? what makes you feel like you’re not just surviving for once, you’re living in the moment?

alright. Fully being honest here man, I haven’t stopped thinking about your question and it’s proper response since you sent it. Its hard because OCD is responsible for so much of my disassociation and not a single therapist I have been to, of which there has been 5, has actually taught me or guided me through coping mechanisms to fully snap out of it and ground myself once more. In fact this last therapist I went to lasted the longest and in the end I’m just now coming around to how invalidating and hurtful she was the entire time. Fully fueled by radical pseudoscience and inexperience. On the one hand, it’s my fault for not seeing a specialist, but truthfully, I just don’t have the income for a specialist and if someone comes to you and takes the time to openly show their vulnerability, I find it baffling that you wouldn’t be passionately driven to open a textbook and do all that you can to help that individual out. You and I both know mental health isn’t a one size fits all kind of situation. The way I ground myself might completely not work for you whatsoever. Still, I hope you can takeaway something from my experience…

I’ve been dealing with OCD for 11 years now and at first it was all consuming. At first I strongly believed I was being punished by God. Funny how we regress to the metaphysical when we don’t understand what we’re dealing with. After doing years of research and dealing with it time and time again I finally had the confidence to believe that my trauma growing up led to my obsessive compulsive disorder. Still, it wracks and wreathes and begs to be listened to and interacted with, a full decade later, just the same. I know it’s just begging to feel safe. I know it cannot handle the uncertainties of life ahead, sometimes, most times, it feels like being tied to a wooden stake and being burnt alive. I tried for years to fight it man. I come from a family that’s very forthright and aggressive. Never fucking go down without a fight.

So naturally, I balled my fists and took my stance to fully fight the feelings and thoughts consuming me day after day. It would go away for small moments and speedily arise sometime later with the same determination and vigor ready to fight once more. After all those years, it takes a toll on you man. Soon you start wondering what the point is. Should I really be spending my whole life ready to destroy everything and everyone that stands in my way just for the sake of survival? Life soon starts losing its meaning and subtle brilliance. As I grew more and more tired I started realizing that growing up doesn’t mean you’re inherently cursed to follow the predisposed survival mechanisms your parents gave to you. In fact, most of my progression has been thanks to doing the complete opposite my parents ever instructed. What does surrender really mean? What does it imply about who it is I am? How would others feel knowing that the secret towards finally falling back into my own body meant I stopped putting up a fight? I surrendered man. I gave up. I gave in. How ever could we possibly put up a fight against the roaring tide of the ocean? How could we beat something that will continue pushing and fighting to no avail? When panic hits, when the world closes in, when my breathing feels manual and suffocating, when I slowly start feeling my body split into two, to absolve myself from the grandiose fear eating me alive, I just fucking give in man. Give in to it. Don’t react. Don’t spiral. Don’t fight. Let yourself bathe in its crimson sheen and believe it’s drowning you from the inside out. Moments like that used to last a lifetime for me. My first ever panic attack I had lasted 3 days. 3 fucking days man. My most recent one? 5 minutes. At best. No one ever talks about how time consuming panic and disassociation can be. I wish therapists weren’t so driven by the root cause of everything. I wish they understood that in asking for help I don’t want to analyze the things I’ve analyzed by my own self for years. I wish they were driven by present solutions. Acceptance in understanding that fear and chaos will never consume. All these things and more I’ve had to learn on my own accord. Everything I’ve understood about my obsessive compulsive disorder and trauma and adhd and anxiety has mostly been individually. About a year ago I remember sobbing when I finally realized life doesn’t have to be an endless game of survival. I could go out? I could have fun? Be present? Feel euphoric? All these things I was denying by consistently putting up an unnecessary fight towards things I will never be able to control man. I’m still mourning how hurtful my previous therapist was. I’m still healing. I still sometimes fall privy to entertaining my ocd when it strikes but I always come out. I always know its time is limited. More than ever it’s becoming less and less detrimental as I leave it be and allow it to possess me entirely. I wish my mother understood the beauty of surrendering and accepting and forgiving. Picking your battles is more than a mere expression. Never lose your determination man and know that while it may feel like captivity some moments, soon you will return, hopefully with as much passion and desire to live even more so than before. We both deserve to. Life is much more than trying to stay alive. Hope you’re being kind to yourself man. Sorry for the long ass answer but your question means a lot and you deserve a meaningful answer.

[ourlittlevampire]

Imagine Early Sunsets Over Monroeville but it's Mikey getting turned into a zombie. There's no way Gerard would be able to bring himself to kill Mikey, even when he's in that state. He lets him live, trapping him in his basement room so he can't hurt him. For weeks he stays in their childhood home slowly running out of food. Gerard is also slowly losing his mind. He's used to being alone and not going outside, that's not the problem. The problem is that Mikey won't shut up. His little brother is constantly growling, moaning and banging around down there at all hours of the day. He can't sleep with that sound. He can't sleep because he's starving. He wishes Mikey would just shut up. He doesn't know why he's making that much noise. He wasn't like that a couple weeks ago, when he had first turned.

Starving, Gerard realised. Mikey is starving, just like him. He knew what those shambling things outside ate. Watched them attempt to do that with his beloved brother. It made him shudder just to think about. But what if Mikey didn't eat? He couldn't claim to know the first thing about. He didn't know if they could starve to death. What he did know was that the zombies he saw outside seemed to be less now. Maybe they had just moved on from New Jersey... or maybe they had eaten all the humans they could and starved to death.

Coming out of his thoughts, Gerard suddenly realised that the house was quiet. Quiet for the first time since his brother had first turned. He had an overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. Against his better judgment, he unbarricaded the door to the basement. It was so dark in there. All of his stuff was thrown around, his precious comic books torn to pieces. He would be furious, if he wasn't more focused on his little brother sprawled out on top of those shredded comics.

"Mikey?" He called out, concern rising in his voice. At the sound of his voice, the zombified man lifted his head. It looked like it took all of his strength to do so. He growled weakly, a hand barely twitching toward him.

This wasn't good. When he'd gotten Mikey into this room, he had had to beat him off with a broom. His little brother had been strong, almost stronger than him. Now he couldn't even get up. His little brother had always been skinny, but his body underneath the shreds of his t-shirt looked positively emaciated.

Mikey was starving to death. He knew that now. But what could he do? Feed himself to Mikey?

That thought played inside his mind for an uncomfortable amount of time. He was only pulled out of it when he heard screaming. Human screams. In the early days of the infection, it hadn't been uncommon to hear suffering. Now, though, it was something startling. He rushed upstairs and looked outside.

A woman, a relatively young one, was on the street outside of his house. She was covered in blood and holding a hand to her side. She was screaming for help as she limped down the lane. He didn't know what had happened to her, but she was probably bit. He already had one zombie to deal with, he didn't need another. Gerard moved from the window, content to be a bystander. Then, he rethought.

Gerard opened the front door. He cautiously peeked out. Surprisingly, no zombies around.

"Hey!" He called out. "Are you bit?" He asked.

The woman whorled around to look at him. Relief washed over her face. She started coming towards him.

"No!" She replied. "I cut myself climbing through a window." She moved her hand to show a giant gash in her tank top. He couldn't really see the wound, but all that blood did not look promising. "Do you have any medical supplies?" She asked.

"Yes.... They're down in the basement." He replied.

-

The screams had been horrible. It was worth it, though, to ensure his little brother would stay alive. He could hear him banging around down in his former room once more. He just hoped Mikey wouldn't get hungry again any time soon.

[dearestxiao]

Hey I just wanted to ask and I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfy but what happened to saekogun? I missed your #junesdegeneracyau and then I found out everything disappeared which was weird bcs I recall seeing ur blog in like March 2022

hi there nonnie... omg wow it's been such a long time since I've actually posted on this blog. thank you so much for the concern and to anyone else who's asked about me.

to give a quick tldr as to what happened with saekogun exactly: I took a break from writing right around a point in my life where I was both very busy, and slowly becoming more and more happy. the break turned out to be much longer than I thought it would be, and I one day decided to get rid of saekogun. my mental health has improved immensely, and I just wanted to say hello again.

I will start this off by saying I am very much alive and well. at the start of my first semester last year I decided to take a break from writing so that I could focus on my classes and internship and... just about everything else life had in store for me. it was initially supposed to be a short two week break, which is why I had initially never posted about it. but as more and more time went on, big (good) things kept happening in my life, and I had felt as if my mental health had additionally improved being away from tumblr. I decided that, for the sake of my mental well-being, I would not return for quite some time until I was fully stable enough to do so.

tumblr was a really weird source of turmoil in my life back then, which is kind of funny to say now that I look back on it (it sounds sooooo unserious, I know I know). I never talked about this openingly on my blog, but I did struggle a lot with my mental health, especially as someone with bpd. during the time that I wrote for saekogun, I had consistent and heavy episodes and mood swings. I knew no one else with bpd nor did I have someone I could talk about it with, so I felt a bit alone.

I felt very alone in my struggles and used tumblr as a sort of crutch and aid and it helped. immensely. but it also hurt me in different ways. I treated tumblr as a big responsibility in my life and it felt like I had a full time job as a content creator. I'm also neurodivergent and my executive function issues were beating me up without remorse. this was at a point in my life where I really did not have time for running my blog, but writing and interacting with the lovely following I had generated felt great. it was just too much for me though unfortunately, so I decided to move on.

I decided that I would keep the blog up running so that people could still enjoy it in my absence. however, one night after thinking on it for months I decided to just get rid of it. it sounds odd, but now that I was healing, that blog was just too representative and tied to a bad era of my life for me to want it to keep existing. so I banished it into the void, never to be seen again.

a lot of stuff has happened between now and then. to keep things short and sweet, I'm a lot happier now. I won't say things are absolutely perfect, because not everything can be of course, but I feel as though I've healed and grown. some amazing things have happened and for the first time in years I experienced true joy for a very long period of time. I'll stop myself from rambling before I get too cheesy and corny. but just know that it fr does get better y'all. I'm so glad I've lived long enough to a point where I can confidently say that.

I have a lot of regrets when it comes to saekogun. I definitely was not the best blog runner. I was constantly behind on asks and projects and I made lots and lots of mistakes when it came to my posting schedules and how I handled asks. I had so many asks that I never got to and made so many promises I couldn't keep. for that I deeply and utterly apologize. I do wish that I had done better and am sorry to those who've I disappointed. I thank everyone who had took the time to send something in and put time and energy into my blog.

another regret I have is not saving the color blue before I had gotten rid of the blog. that story is unfortunately lost to time itself since I don't have any portion of it saved. which sucks because if there was anything I'd continue to write about here from my old blog, it'd be that, but I have no access to it now.

I'm also sorry for anyone I have worried in my absence. I really should have made a post sooner, but I honestly had no idea what to say. I didn't know how to come back, and the longer I took to say anything, the harder it got.

I am beyond grateful for everything you've all had done for me, and for sticking around and checking up on me, and for enjoying my content in the first place. I cannot put into words how much it means to me for people to have cared about my silly little degenerate posts. from the bottom of my heart, I seriously thank you all. I also thank my sweet anons, old mutuals, and any followers who are still here.

now, onto the big question: will I ever write for this blog again? the answer is... iffy. I often fantasize about being able to write again, but the truth is I'm not into genshin anymore whatsoever, which is an issue since my primary fandom was always genshin. at some point after sumeru's initial release, I was simply just not as into the game anymore, and was too busy to actually sit down and play. I have no idea what's going on lore or game wise, and anything thats happened fandom wise either.

unfortunately, I'm not interested in getting back into genshin, so I'm very sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping for more content like what I used to create.

however, I love writing. and I'm still really into yanderes and dark fiction as a whole. but I'm currently not into any fandoms that I think people would really be interested in so I don't think I have much to offer in terms of content. so for now, it's a... maybe? I guess we can talk about that as time goes by.

this is absolutely not to promise I'll actually be back though. I'm not sure if I'd be able to run a blog still to be honest, atleast not consistently. but I would love to drop by and post a little something every now and then and talk with you all.

thank you all once again, and thanks to whoever read this entire mess of words. listen, I'm rusty okay 😔

[lazy-active-me]

I did lose it time and time again…

It started when I slowly fell in love with you, without knowing what it was…

I regained it when we were together, for the first two years…

I lost it at the end… when I noticed that I was less and less important to you, when I noticed, that the presence of others where more important to you, than mine…

I lost it over time trying to rebuild my trust in you after you apologized, but did not really want to change… when you made it my fault for not trusting you… even though you struck our bond…

I lost it again after I noticed the same thing happening again… you blaming me… again…

And then I lost everything… after you finally left… but still not being totally honest…

I lost my vast ocean of discoveries, my ground beneath my feet, my calming blue sky above, my everything beyond. I lost my always… I lost the one person that I love… more than anything else… that I love more than any idea I had… the one I wanted to give everything, the one I would leave everything for, the one for who I would have waged a war for…

And I lost even more… I lost myself… I lost my past, my present, my future… I lost my wishes, I lost my connection, my confidence, my appetite, my curiosity, my will to live on… I lost my strength and I feel like I can not move on.

But I can see you are happy writing a new song…

I can tell that you won’t give me a real answer, of why you did not tell me, what was going on.

I can tell that you still do not want to admit your feelings in front of me anymore. The only thing that you told me, is that you don’t love me romantically anymore… but I can tell… that you don’t even know.. that you don’t know how to talk to me anymore… since you did to me, what he did to you… You became the very person, that you did leave before you met me… maybe not the part of being stuck with money and drug problems… Since you stopped that with me… maybe not the part of being stuck with a job, for we worked together on that. I did encourage you, brought snacks, made sure that you can talk with me, that I listen, that I ask you questions and help you learn, that I help you relax. That I am there… I know my behavior is inconsistent when it comes to my energy levels for my own sake… when it comes to getting forward in life, to get a new job, be organized and progressing overall…. But instead of talking with me and finding out what was going on. You resented me… More and more… And I was judged harder and harder… I had only one wish… and that was to live with you. I did not care about a fancy job… but you would always judge me for it. I did not care about external rewards… I cared about you… I was ok with you becoming more distant with my family and had to defend you in front of them, when you started to give me more and more judgement for spending time on them. Even though you were the one I was spending most of time on. I defended you when you made really harsh comments about bran… when they judged you for not driving me out to them… I always was passionate about you, I tried to keep a spark alive that you at one point did not value the way you used to…

In the end it feels like everything was always about you… Especially since Seata is gone you slowly drifted away further and further from us as a couple…

And no matter what I did nothing could stop it… it feels like I always only made things worse… I guess I should have gone the first time when you broke my trust… when you already felt like this won’t last but you wanted it to last… when you said you don’t know how to make it better but you don’t want to change the way you interact with people… when you still wanted to keep flirting in a way, but did not dare to tell me about it… but I guess no matter what… it still was a disrespectful thing towards me… for sometimes it was not jokingly…

And Sebastian… I don’t think he kissed you out of nowhere… my love you did at least let him feel like there is a chance in some way…. so don’t step on my few leftovers of trust in you too many times…

You knew what you were doing… and I saw many more things… I am good at reading basic feelings of people that are important to me.

As you will always be, even though I am not to you anymore…

[cryptidsurveys]

Saturday, October 5th, 2024.

So, how's adulting treating you in the 2020s? Are you smashing those expectations, or do you just wanna Netflix and chill all day? First of all, it was never really Netflix & Chill; for me, it was more like YouTube & Rot. Anyway, I'm certainly not smashing any societal expectations, but I am doing better than what I once believed was possible. It gives me hope that I can continue to make progress.

Remember all the fads and trends from the 2010s? Which one makes you cringe the most when looking back now? Vaguely…? I've never been a particularly trendy person. Most of that stuff just goes over my head. As for things that make me cringe…hmm. Maybe early memes. We've come a long way since the days of Courage Wolf and Socially Awkward Penguin.

In the 2020s, are you living the glamorous life you thought all adults had in the 2010s, or is it more like trying to keep houseplants alive and failing miserably? I never thought every adult had a glamorous life, but I was (and am) guilty of idealizing adulthood, especially when confronted with curated and idyllic social media posts. And heck, not even that - something as basic as a "grocery haul mom vlog" would make me yearn for that middle class suburban dream. ;D The second half is more like my actual experience. I don't have any house plants, but as I ease further into adult responsibilities, it continues to feel like a case of having so much to do and not nearly enough time in which to do it. There's always something I neglect for the sake of something else. It makes leisure activities feel like luxuries I can't afford, but…I mean, look at what I'm doing right now. And look at what I'm NOT doing (aka vacuuming the living room/family room). On one hand, I know I need better time management, but on the other, I can't just go, go, go without feeling like I'm slowly losing my sanity. It's a balance I have yet to strike.

Tell us about a moment in the 2010s when you thought you were the coolest kid on the block, but looking back, you were just as awkward as the rest of us. You know…I think I'll keep those embarrassing memories to myself.

So, do you adult better with a fancy planner and color-coded schedules, or are you just winging it with Post-it notes and sheer luck? My life is so routine and repetitive that I don't really need a planner/calendar. I also don't have much of an issue remembering important dates, but I will write them down if I feel like there's a chance I might forget them. I guess I'm closer to Post-It notes and sheer luck, but it works because I don't have all that much going on. Just the animal shelter (typically Friday through Tuesday), therapy (every other Wednesday), trips to the Mountain Park (whenever I can fit them in), grocery shopping (usually Wednesday mornings), and outings with my mom (also whenever I can fit them in).

In the 2020s, have you finally mastered the art of adulting, or do you still have an impressive collection of takeout menus and not a clue about cooking? I don't get takeout or go out to eat all that often, but I'm also not much of a cook. Most of my meals involve the microwave in some capacity. I can cook - it's not hard to follow a recipe and wind up with something tasty - but for whatever reason, I just…don't. Part of it is probably eating disorder related, but I don't think that's all of it. I wish I did more cooking - the idea appeals to me, as does the chance to eat even healthier - but instead I just eat the same few meals and snacks over and over again.

Looking back on the 2010s, what was the cringiest song you couldn't stop listening to on your iPod, and did you ever dare to sing it in public? CAUSE EVERY TIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING AND EVERY TIME WE KISS I SWEAR I COULD FLY CAN'T YOU FEEL MY HEART BEAT FAST I WANT THIS TO LAST NEED YOU BY MY SIDE It was apparently released in 2006, but it didn't cross my radar until the 2010s, so. And yeah, it was playing in Walmart a few months ago, and it was all I could do to contain myself.

Are you living the dream of having a fabulous wardrobe that puts fashion bloggers to shame, or is your closet a chaotic mix of hand-me-downs and sale-rack finds? It's a mix of Walmart, thrift store finds, and animal shelter shirts/sweaters. I'm not putting any fashion bloggers to shame, but you can definitely tell where my priorities lie.

Do you miss the simpler times of the 2010s when social media was all about posting selfies, or are you loving the meme culture that dominates the 2020s? I do miss the social media culture of Tumblr and Instagram especially. It felt so much more personal and tight-knit, a true slice of life, and I formed some great online friendships around that time. These days, everything feels so impersonal. Everyone's an influencer, their lives are a walking advertisement, and none of it feels real. I wouldn't even know where to start finding online friends anymore. Sure, some of the content is interesting/inspiring, but the people behind it feel so distant.

Tell us your most epic "adulting fail" moment that made you wish you could just teleport back to your carefree teenage years. Probably my failed attempt to work at the animal shelter back in 2021. I quickly crashed and burned. It didn't make me wish for my teenage days, but it was extremely disheartening, shame inducing, etc. I've been back volunteering there for about a year and a half now, close to full time since mid-July (I think…? I'll come back and edit this if I can find the exact date), and things are mostly stable aside from a few hiccups, but…I don't know. The failure of 2021 still haunts me. I want the animal shelter to be part of my life forever, but the fear of losing it all over again keeps me from taking that final plunge. Hopefully one day…

How do you balance being a responsible adult in the 2020s and still secretly longing for the reckless fun you had in the 2010s? I wasn't having much reckless fun. It was more like reckless self-destruction (that might have seemed like fun at times but...yeah). I'm also not a completely responsible/independent adult. There is a part of me that longs for more down time, and I have a complicated sense of nostalgia for my bed rotting days, but I know going back to that wouldn't make me happy. I'd be bored and restless and miserable just like I was before.

Confess your most significant guilty pleasure from the 2010s that you can't believe you indulged in. No judgment here! Probably conspiracies and all the rabbit holes that came with them. That obsession persisted into the early 2020s as well. I felt so hopeless in my own life that an apocalypse actually sounded like an appealing alternative.

Do you have a "best worst" purchase from the 2010s that you still can't believe you spent money on? No.

In the 2020s, have you upgraded your hangover-curing skills from greasy fast food to some sophisticated avocado toast? No. I just drastically reduced my alcohol intake. These days, I might drink once or twice a year, if even that, and not nearly as much in quantity.

What's your go-to dance move when you hit the dance floor in the 2020s, and did it come from an embarrassing attempt in the 2010s? I've never gone out dancing.

How do you cope with adulting burnout in the 2020s, and does it involve a secret stash of chocolate or a Netflix binge? Even though the animal shelter is my passion and I can't imagine my life without it, I still need time away to recharge. I try to make the most of my days off and do things that genuinely refill my cup or reset my social meter. Make art, visit the Mountain Park, purposeful bed rotting with some trash YouTube, maybe put off some house cleaning if necessary (or tackle it if it will make me feel better - it just depends), etc. I'm also fortunate enough to be in a place where I can take extra days off if I need them, but I try not to resort to that too often. The whole point is to get as accustomed to the grind as I can.

Share the most hilariously awkward Zoom moment you had during the great pandemic of the 2020s. I've never used Zoom.

Looking back on the 2010s, what was the weirdest internet challenge you participated in, and did you regret it immediately? I don't think I've ever participated in an internet challenge… Except for things like NaNoWriMo and Inktober, but those are…idk…more wholesome? Not stupid?

Have you finally embraced the fact that you're an adult, or do you still find yourself wishing you had Hermione Granger's time-turner to go back to simpler times? I have accepted…or have resigned myself to the fact…that I can't go back. Not if I want the possibility of a good life in the future. It's daunting as all hell - sometimes the responsibility is overwhelming, and there's only more to come - but I have to keep pushing forward.

So, did you ever jump on the "juice cleanse" bandwagon in the 2010s, and did you last more than a day before devouring a pizza? No.

How do you handle those moments in the 2020s when you feel like you're just a kid pretending to be an adult? Like the first time I went grocery shopping by myself? That was surreal. As a teen, I used to go to the mall by myself like it was nothing (well, "by myself" with friends lmao), but for some reason, grocery shopping was a whole different (and even somewhat trippy) experience. Even though I'm getting more comfortable going places on my own (mainly therapy and the animal shelter), I still have a strong sense of imposter syndrome.

In the 2010s, what was your worst fashion faux pas that you wish had never seen the light of day? Hmmm. Let's just say I definitely had some…outfits…

Are you now the queen or king of adulting, doling out life advice like Oprah, or are you still secretly calling your mom for help with laundry? I'm still fumbling around and trying to figure it out, and probably fooling absolutely no one.

Looking ahead to the rest of the 2020s, what are your hopes and dreams for your adulting journey, and how will you embrace the chaos with a sense of humor? There's just so much I want to learn/do - from the big stuff all the way down to the minor details. I think the main thing is that I want to be employed at the animal shelter before the 2020s pass. As for embracing chaos with a sense of humor…well, it often feels like hilarity is one thin line away from hysterics, so…while I'm not terrible at it, I surely could be better.

[iridescentblood]

7 Backwoods & a 10pk of Bareskin rubbers

So it's been 4 months has it? Boy what depressing ass posts have been here lately. I came back to write tonight finally for a good reason. Theres glimmers of happiness poking through the storm I've been battling. I almost drowned.. but a hand reached out to me. It was a stranger, though.. and I didn't take it at first. I was so terrified to be left alone at sea once again that I had convinced myself it was easier to keep struggling. But I took the risk. I grabbed his hand, and it was somewhat familiar.. a touch that felt easy.. and right. I could finally breathe- and for the first time in so long I feel fucking alive again. I'm finding pieces of myself that I thought I lost. I'm starting to learn who Ally is again, I'm remembering who I was.. who I am now. You wouldn't even recognize her! She's so confident, killing it at work, living this full life where I actually go out!! Drinking and laughing with new friends in new places, meeting new people, and sharing new experiences. I'm even getting GOOD ass sex at the end of it all. Could you believe it?? I wish I could go back years ago.. and tell crying Ally.. slowly breaking into smaller pieces.. that not being fucking touched by your boyfriend should NEVER have been tolerated. Its not normal to not connect sexually. I NEVER should've sacrificed my powerful feminine energy, my deep desires and fantasies for him. I NEVER deserved to feel that insecure. But guess fucking what? I found a guy that matches my flame. He burns so hot he's reigninting that fire that I buried so fucking deep inside of me to keep my ex from getting burnt. But not him. He wants to burn. He wants it.. Hotter. Fuck. Me. I am happy. Maybe I found the one to finally fuck the depression outta me, I've only been waiting on that one since what... 2016 or some shit? Haha. It's in there real deep but hell I think it really might come loose for him 😈 Truth be told it's not just the sex. I actually like him. That thought is terrifying yet exciting all at the same time. New doors are finally opening and I'm ready to see what's inside. I hope it's more backwoods..