#It felt like a bunch of people were trying to tell me that the sky was green and acting like I was crazy for saying it isn't.

[atangledfate]

All Sonic could see in that moment was red, and that anger was bubbling up like geyser ready to blow. He didn't have much in this world that he cared for, and he knew Amy was a tough girl. But seeing her like that just flipped a switch for him. Maybe it was that curse that linked him to her, or maybe was just his own protective nature as a guardian of his world. He didn't know but he'd never felt such a desire to put someone in the ground. Even despite the fact that he was hyper aware Surge was trying to prevent him from making a huge mistake. It didn't really register completely.

He grit his teeth and leaned in close to Surge and was seconds from speaking, telling her where she could shove her worries. If she knew Abe like he did, if she had any idea of all the awful things he was party to. She'd have wanted to put him in the ground to. GUN drove Gerald mad, tossed shadow in a damn stasis pod, killed maria in cold blood and so much more! there was alot they would never atone for in Sonic's eyes---all of this was just another drop in the bucket.

" Talkin' ain't ever gonna be GUN's language! I am so sick of tryin' to talk with those people! they only language they get is force, so i'm just gonna speak there language!?! "

He had no qualms busting Surge's face wide open to get to them either! Luckily Tails voice was perhaps the one he needed to hear most, mostly because of how close they were. But despite that it didn't make him less angry, it just made him bury it again and hide away like he always did. When he thought about it, he was kind of a coward wasnt he? always hiding, always tucking his tail and running from all that pent up aggression.

Surge could see his hostility ebb away, it was likely the first time she'd seen him so worked up. Yes he did care for Amy, like he cared for Tails, and anyone who threatened them was on his shit list!

" ... Mark my words, they ain't here to talk Surge... those bastards are a bunch of child killin' life ruinin' sacks of absolute shit. I'll play nice... but the moment i find out Abe was behind Amy's attack... the gloves are off... i ain't puttin' that to the side. You'd do the same if it was Kit... "

He looked away from her to the airship that was just within sight of them now.

" They ain't here to help... you an i both know it... this is gonna be us vs them... i'll wait... and i keep my promises. So you can relax... "

He was still very obviously pissed off, and only holding back for the time being. One wrong move by GUN was likely to set his ass off. But he knew if GUN had his way they'd lock them both up for sure. His eyes went to Surge though and narrowed as he realized something important and, as he needed some way to direct his anger he snapped at her instead.

" and YOU need to tell him the damn truth! because i sure as fuck ain't gonna explain it to him. Do you think for a moment he'd listen to me or tails anyway? You need to tell him, and soon..."

===============================================

Tails wasn't sure if it was Belle in control or an auto pilot in truth it was hard to tell. But he was pretty impressed by the over all craftsmanship of the bot. It was impressive and showed how far she'd come! He was always impressed by her work, and it was proof in his mind that Eggman's bots could do good given the right program and incentive.

" And who do you think designed the artificial Chaos? Doctor Gerald Robotnik... Eggman's grandfather. Lots of Eggman's technology was inspired by Gerald, even if Gerald's intentions were pure... alot of his tech was turned into weapons for GUN or worse... locked up for being to dangerous. But i guess you know more about it then i do... just hard not to see the similarities "

Tails had been working the entire time he was talking. He connected the satellite to the Belle Bot which gave her access to the eye in the sky. This also allowed her to interface with the restoration com network fully, and reconnect the broken bits from the EMP with the satellites network.

" I got it, i do hope Belle doesn't mind me using the belle Bot as a relay... but, that should reconnect Restoration communications. Also you should be able to use the belle bot's signal to connect to the satellite using it as a proxy. That should limit any risk to your own equipment... "

Not that there was any risk to begin with, but he hoped it quelled Kit's paranoia.

" I... know i probably shouldn't even say anything. But... I'm Sorry you know, for everything that's happened... Deep down i guess i just want to find some middle ground for you and I... I just want us to be able to talk ... work this all out somehow. "

He sighed and gave Kit a side glance with one of his ears falling over

" When this is over... do you think... we can talk? Not asking for anything else... just a chance for us to talk, "

Surge scowls at Sonic, her lightning changing dark red as her strength seemed to double, maybe even more as she held him in place. The tenrec then punched the wall right next to the hedgehog's head, easily cracking it deeply which traveled high up the wall. "Yeah, because you look like in such a talkative mood right now. Don't try to play me for a fucking fool. I know everything about you, remember?" A face the speedster still hated, though it was the truth.

"Don't think I've been sitting on my ass all this time with The Restoration. I've been training and have a bunch of new skills so if you think you can just fight me off easily then you're dead wrong." Surge figured a long time ago Sonic never took their first fights too seriously, attempting to talk her down. Things were different this time around with abilities she's unlocked.

Surge ear twitches hearing Tails on the intercom attempting to talk Sonic down as well. "You also promised me something, and I expect you to keep it. Can't do that if you get thrown in a GUN cell with me." The tenrec was sure she wouldn't be getting your average cell, though not the time to think about that.

Surge finally let Sonic go, hoping he had calmed down enough to not sprint off again. "You want to thrash whoever is behind this after, then fine. Though I'm not failing him again, and I'm not letting you fail him. Is that clear?" The only person she trusted with that was Sonic by this point, and wasn't going to have him fuck that up. "And if you do fail him then I'm going to break every fucking bone in your body."

===========================================================

"Belle isn't controlling Belle Bot right now. It's most likely just running off basic functions as it's still in the early stages. That said, it is combat ready so if need be it'll go into on the offensive and I don't think GUN will have a fun time." Kitsunami was sure it could tear through several GUN squads without slowing down if need be.

"No, Starline was completely obsessive with only using Eggtech for my hydro-pack even when there were moments where getting GUN tech would've made it easier than rebuilding parts from Eggtech scraps." Even to the bitter end Starline was obsessed with Eggman. "Though I've since upgraded to be all custom parts working out and Eggtech. I also stayed away from GUN tech." Not worth the risk of them realizing he had stolen some of their tech.

"Try to hook up the coms to something portable so we can hurry on to my room. As much as I'd prefer to do this on my own I have no clue about GUN firewalls. Don't get the wrong idea, this is just to help Surge as best as I can." Kitsunami still seemed more worried about helping Surge than anything else, despite Starline being gone for so long.

[sharkikive]

match made in heaven (ken sato x fem!reader)

Summary: You were Professor Sato’s research assistant and your apartment just got destroyed by Ultraman.

Somehow, this led to a matchmaking project between you and the infamous baseball player, Ken Sato.

Word count: 6,887

A/N: I yap a lot when it comes to writing. Just writing this because the Ken Sato brainrot is too damn strong. Just a bunch of gibberish. Not my best but currently too hung up on Kenji. Includes mention of Professor Sato, Mina and Emi (definitely having baby fever because of her).

Ken Sato.

His name was a staple in your daily life, yet you had never met the man face to face.

The moment you thought you had escaped from hearing the broken recording of his name, it was brought up once again as the news of him returning to Japan plastered the news.

You rolled your eyes at the screen, but were careful enough not to let the old man hunched over the table, poring over some papers on Kaiju, see you.

Well, you could not exactly tell the father that you were tired of hearing his son’s name everywhere, could you?

“Professor Sato,” you started. “I shall take my leave for today.”

“Ah yes, sure. Please have a safe journey back home. I’m sorry this old man can’t send you back safely,” he replied, to which you quickly dismissed.

“Professor, I’ll be fine.” You chuckled lightly, “In case you have forgotten, I’m already 26. I’m already an adult. No longer the wide-eyed, 17-year-old you first took under your wing.”

He gave out a breathy laugh, sniffling as you knew what’s going to come out of his mouth next. You resisted the urge to stop him, purely out of respect.

“Kenji is the same age as you. I wish you could meet him, but that child is very stubborn. He wouldn’t even answer my calls, let alone meet me.” He paused, as if thinking of the next sentence, but went against it.

You only smiled weakly, the only response you’d always given when he mentioned his son’s name. You took this as a sign to leave before bowing and setting off to your apartment.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were tired of listening to that man’s name every single time. Yes, you knew that it was Professor Sato’s guilt that kept him talking about his son, but the more you heard about him, the more you found him less likeable.

He came back to Japan, yet he did not even contact his father even once? Yet Professor Sato would talk about him every day.

You knew nothing about baseball, and did not care to find out, but the appearance of Ken Sato forced you to learn that he’s apparently about to be the saviour for the Giants.

You sighed, stopping under the night sky as you watched people milling about the streets.

You were an ambitious girl who had a deep interest in Kaiju and without shame, Ultraman. Ultraman was the first hero you knew and grew up with, so imagine the elation you felt when you found out that Professor Sato was affiliated with both. He agreed to take you under his wing with the condition that you finished your degree, so the moment you had gotten your scroll you showed up in front of him, eager to start.

He probably couldn’t turn you away considering how you seemed… pitiful. Yup, that’s probably the word.

You enjoyed working as his research assistant, but found out soon enough that he was a lonely man who missed his wife and son dearly. He was a father figure to you, considering that you were orphaned at a young age.

It was a peaceful night.

Well, if you consider the scene of Neronga choking Ultraman as a peaceful night.

Correction: It was supposed to be a peaceful night.

You stepped back as the gigantic hero got slammed into another building, destroying yet another public property. You winced as it was obvious that the hero was not upholding the principles and seemed more like he was trying to destroy as much as he could.

The thing that irritated you the most? You knew exactly who it was under that suit.

You shook your head, not even bothering to see how the fight would go. You were 100% sure the KDF would be gunning down the Kaiju in no time.

You set off again, mildly hoping that your apartment did not get obliterated in the chaos, or you would definitely hunt that baseball player down.

It was hard to ignore the fight when two giants were stomping around the city, and you dropped dramatically on your knees when you saw Ultraman being launched in the direction of your building.

“No-” you weakly said, knowing that your voice was merely a speck of hopelessness among the gasps of the crowd, Ultraman’s groan and Neronga’s roar. From behind your glasses, a tear rolled down your face as you saw your apartment building crumbling, all thanks to that stupid, cocky, asshole of a baseball player.

Now thanks to Professor Sato’s beloved son, you were homeless.

***

Maybe it was your lack of sleep from worrying about how the progress of rebuilding your house went, because you were dragged by Professor Sato at 2 in the morning to the secret base, facing a scene that you promptly found ridiculous.

Right, seeing the giant hero hunched over in front of you was no surprise because you knew exactly who it was. A little bit weird how he’s here considering his relationship with his father, but that wouldn’t be an issue.

But what was an issue was that the said giant was cradling an equally gigantic pink baby Kaiju and was- you took a step back.

Something must had happened because Ken Sato was crying in front of you. Not the scene you’d expect in the morning while being sleep-deprived.

Your mind was only registering the words ‘injured’, ‘need help’ and the rest was a blur as Professor Sato helped in correcting the fracture in the Kaiju’s arm. The Kaiju was calmed down, brought to sleep and you could not help but smile at the sleeping baby.

Part of the reason you were still there was because you found the baby Kaiju so adorable with her chubby cheeks and twitterings.

Another part was because you were curious to see (discreetly, of course, under the pretext of looking over the Kaiju) the dynamic between Ultradad and well, the son. You were facing the Kaiju but you were straining your ears to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Doing this-“ you picked up a sentence, -“doesn’t suddenly make you Ultradad.”

You felt slightly perturbed. Kenji came in here pleading while crying, Professor Sato helped him without any questions yet the son was barely grateful for it.

But you knew you’re no one to be meddling in their family affairs.

So you kept quiet, straining your ears with Mina - the robot - hovering nearby.

Your mind wandered to whether it would be plausible for you to chip in a request for Ken Sato’s autograph and sell it high to make up for the costs of your destroyed apartment.

That’s the least he could do after reducing your safe space into rubble.

You snapped back to the present as you heard your name being called, and was greeted with the sight of a smiling father and a son looking like he’d love to be anywhere but here.

Ken Sato was not smiling, but he didn’t look like he hated you either.

The next thing you knew was that you were left alone with Ken, and you couldn’t help but think Professor Sato had a hidden agenda because he left with a chuckle. Even Mina was nowhere in sight.

What could I possibly say to this man I’ve never met before?

The young man in front of you looked starkly different from the confident, boastful man you had seen in interviews. Instead, he seemed more like a sad excuse who looked so distraught you swore you could see him shrinking.

“So uh-” he started, scratching his head with an awkward smile. “Y/N… right?”

Your eyebrows lifted at the mention of your name.

“Dad told me about your apartment.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

You clicked your tongue. “Other than the fact that I became homeless, it’s no issue.”

You did not intend it to be a joke, but it seemed that the only immediate response he could give was to laugh awkwardly, before he buried his face in his hands. “God- I’m so- sorry.” He pried his fingers slightly to look at you, before continuing. “I came back to Japan because dad wanted me to continue this- I don’t know what you call this. Legacy?”

Your eyes trailed his movements; you got slightly startled as he suddenly sprang up and you pushed back your glasses.

“High hopes from everyone ever since I started playing for the Giants, dad wanting me to become Ultraman and-“ he sighed exasperatedly, “it was too much.”

You rubbed the tip of your nose before shrugging. “Well, you did seem confident while you were on TV. If you ask me, you gave them that confidence.”

He left his mouth slightly hanging open as he didn’t expect you to give it to him straight.

You continued, “Ultraman is a hero for some, if not all. Some of them may not care. But all,” your eyes collided with his as he plopped back down onto the sofa, “don’t know who is under that suit. All they know is Ultraman is supposed to be the hero protecting the city with-“ you pressed your lips into a thin line, “-minimal damage.”

He blinked. Did he look like he wanted to cry again?

The corner of your lips lifted up slightly, but you quickly switched it off as he looked at you imploringly.

You raised your hands shoulder-level, hiding a yawn before managing. “Don’t expect me to become your counsellor, but what I’m saying is, when you’re Ken Sato, the baseball player, of course they’d expect you to play well. When you’re Ultraman, people expect you to be the hero.” You interlinked your fingers. “They don’t see you becoming both at the same time. And now, you added another point to your resume. You became a single dad.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. He sucked in his lower lip and for the first time ever you thought that maybe Professor Sato’s son wasn’t that bad at all, both personality and lookwise.

“I can’t comment much about what you feel about your father. I won’t deny that my opinion on you was formed only based on what I saw, but I now know that you must have had a reason why you acted that way to your father.” You shrugged. “I saw a lonely father and a distant son. Because I spent almost all of my time with Professor Sato, please trust me, he talks about you every single day.” You spread your arms, “Your father talked about you, the TV was blaring news about you 24/7 and I was exhausted hearing your name all the time.”

He didn’t seem offended, but was merely focusing on the one sentence. “My father talks about me every day?”

”Every day,” you breathed. “You and your mother.” You smiled, “He never stopped thinking about both of you.”

”Huh.” It seemed like he didn’t know how to react.

This time, you couldn’t help but yawn so you got up quickly, intending to leave the base. If the conversation wasn’t finishing, you were sure you were about to finish it. Your eyelids couldn’t hold much longer.

It was nice having a talk with this infamous baseball player and it sure did change your perspective of him.

He looked on, confused, as you gave a slight nod before heading towards the exit.

”Hey-“ he started, doing a slight jog to catch up to you, who was almost asleep standing up. He gently grabbed the strap of your sling bag, and you snapped your eyes open. He retracted his hand, citing, “Sorry. But where do you think you’re going?”

It was your turn to look confused. “Home?” You said it as a question rather than a statement. “Wait,” you tracked back, “not home. My temporary home at the inn down the road because,” you giggled, clearly drunk from the lack of sleep, “Ultraman destroyed my home.”

”And because Ultraman destroyed your home, you’re staying with me,” he said smoothly, slightly nudging your back with his shoulder. Clearly he struggled as you were much shorter than him.

”With you?” You had no idea where the idea was going yet so you shook your head. “Why would I want to stay with you?”

He took a step back and tugged at the strap of your sling back, essentially dragging you with him. “Don’t misunderstand. Dad’s staying with me as well, we have Mina and you’re joining me because we need to train her.”

”Wait, wait, wait.” You slapped a hand on his shoulder, but he was still holding on strong to the strap. “We? Her? What are we even talking about?”

You were clearly guided by him as you found yourself standing underneath his gaze in front of the Kaiju’s enclosure.

”We as in you, me, dad and Mina.” He nodded, looking satisfied. “Her as in this baby.” He did a show of hands towards the sleeping Kaiju.

You grimaced. “Sir, I did say that my perspective on you has changed, but that doesn’t mean you’re dragging me with you.”

”You’re my dad’s research assistant, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Yes…” You didn’t like where this is going.

”You don’t have a house… yet.”

”Yes…”

You took a step back, and what you could describe him now was as a puppy as he imitated your actions. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he leaned down to level his eyes with yours before saying, “Your boss is here, and you currently have no home to go back to. So why not? Take it as me being sorry for destroying your house as well. Deal?” He put out his hand to give you a shake.

You laughed nervously. “And what is it in for me…?”

”You… get to live in the same house as Ken Sato?”

”Nice, yay,” you said flatly. You rolled your eyes. “No.”

“Oh come on,” he groaned. “I feel bad.”

”There’s no need for you to feel bad, okay. I put that behind me, whatever.” You threw your hands in the air. “I’m going, bye.” You turned around, ready to leave.

”I’ll give you my autograph, as many as you’d like,” he quickly chipped in. “Signed possession, whatever you want.” He grinned in satisfaction as he saw you stop in your tracks and you quickly turned around. “It sells. A lot.”

”Hmm…” You seemed to consider it before you shook your head. “Your reputation lately isn’t the best so to sell them might be a bit hard…” You trailed off, clearly more of an effort to swat him away since you did think about it.

You couldn’t deny, it was a nice offer. But you were more worried about how you would cope, considering that you may have found him slightly attractive…

“I’m sure dad would be happy for you to stay here as well?”

You gritted your teeth. First time meeting him in real life and he already knew your weakness. He knew that using his father’s name would cause you to waver.

Still, you held on to your decision.

“No-”

He blinked slowly, and you heard the baby Kaiju stir in her sleep.

You ran your eyes towards the Kaiju before sighing. There was one thing you were interested in.

No, not the man in front of you.

You walked over to the enclosure. “How is she with strangers?”

Kenji popped up beside you before winking. “If I say the stranger is a friend, you’ll be glad to have her around.”

You took a moment to think, weighing the pros and cons. “Full privacy? Separate bathrooms?”

He scratched the nape of his neck. “Well, there is one separate bathroom for the guests but the shower’s faulty.” Something dawned on his face as he just realised this. “The only working shower is in, uh, my room.”

You stared back at him. “So there is a chance I might run into you naked?”

“I’ll preserve my dignity.” He paused. “You know what, take my room. I can use the guest room.”

You chuckled, taking his hand in a forced handshake. “Fine, deal.”

He looked surprised, but trailed after you as both of you took the ride up. “Wait, what was the dealbreaker? Because of the Kaiju? The room? The-” he looked at you almost accusingly. “-chance of seeing the Ken Sato naked-”

“Shh-” you clamped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence him just as the entrance pried open, revealing a smiling Professor Sato.

“Dad,” Ken said in a muffled voice, and you pulled back from covering his mouth. “Dad,” he tried again. “She agreed to staying here.”

You looked at the professor from the corner of your eyes. So it was his doing. You wondered what the father had held over his son’s head to make him obey.

“Can I retire for the night?” You did an exaggerated show of stretching. “I’m becoming delirious from the lack of sleep.”

“Room’s to your right,” Ken offered.

“Make sure to lock the door,” Mina reminded you.

“Mina,” Ken groaned. “What are you implying?”

“Just general safety measures. Ken-” she hovered near the baseball player, “-are you okay? Your heartbeat is increasing-”

He groaned. “I’m fine, Mina. I’ll be using the guest room.”

Both of you went separate ways, leaving Professor Sato and Mina in the living room.

Professor Sato whispered, “Mina, status report on the project.”

Mina obediently replied, “Matchmaking project is showing positive progress. We can expect to see rapid progress in the next few weeks.”

***

Training and taking care of the baby Kaiju - which the professor had named Emi - was no easy feat. Contributed by your almost non-existent stamina, you were left cheering from the sides as mostly Ken and Emi did all kinds of simulation to train her. Dealing with a 20-feet monster was not on your bucket list, but you had proudly ticked it off mentally.

You heard whooping from the two and you held onto your bottle as the ground shook when Emi jumped up and down. Subconsciously, you smiled as you saw Ken cheering for the baby, and he almost got crushed when Emi gave his human form a high-five.

You quietly went up the lift as Ken was fussing over Emi to make her go to sleep. You plopped down on the sofa, switched on the TV and to no surprise, his name decorated the evening news.

Ken Sato showing good progress…

Ken Sato showing a more mature side…

Ken Sato helping the Giants to pick themselves back up…

“I definitely look better in person,” Ken’s voice came from behind and you could feel his presence near you. “May I?” He asked for permission to sit beside you but both of you knew the answer as he plopped down right next to you.

You see, these are the small things that could make you wonder whether he’s doing it on purpose or he really had no idea how they affected you.

You gulped when you could feel his knee bumping against yours, or when he casually put his arm on the back of the sofa across your shoulders. There was no contact but there might as well be something because you felt like your heart would jump right out.

Your romantic encounter with a guy was only as far as a guy who called you a creep because you were following him. That day, you were navigating the world half-blind because you broke your glasses and it seemed that he was going to your destination. Sure, you admitted that it was your fault and you apologised profusely, but that made you avoid taking the train for at least two weeks.

You got startled when Ken pressed a cold can on your cheek. The corner of your eyes caught the words ‘COCONUT WATER’. Remembering how Mina had essentially pestered Ken to drink coconut water as a ‘healthy option’, you smiled. Mina had also reminded Ken multiple times that because you didn’t drink, never, ever offer you a can of beer.

”Nah,” you refuted. “You look better on screen.” You imitated taking a camera shot of his face before chiding. “Up near you’re just…” You trailed off.

”Just what?” He asked, prying open his can of coconut water. Without asking, he took yours before helping to open it up for you.

This. These small gestures were what convinced you that you were turning crazy.

”Ugly,” you supplemented.

”Hey, play nice,” he tapped the opened can on your cheek before shoving it into your hand.

You chuckled, taking a gulp of the drink before both of you basked in silence. To him, it was a comfortable silence but to you, you were currently hoping that your heartbeat would just… stop.

You thought that maybe spending time and living together with Ken Sato would further confirm that you hated his guts, but so far, you were only getting the opposite effect. You were sure there was some character development somewhere… from that first moment he destroyed your house to that moment you met him again as he was cradling Emi.

You hated this growing feeling you had towards him and it’s so painfully obvious what Professor Sato (and Mina) were planning on doing to both of you.

The worst part was it seemed like it’s either: 1. Ken was too oblivious, or 2. He knew, but didn’t want to entertain the thought.

Was it a better idea to just leave? They did say your house would be finished being rebuilt in a few days.

”So…” you croaked. “My house will be done in a few days so I think it’s better for me to start packing.” You stole a glance at him. Now… Why am I hoping that he would stop me?

A flicker of disappointment behind his eyes but he was quick to switch it off. “Sure,” he rubbed his nose. “If… that’s what you want.”

You pursed your lips. This stupid erratic heartbeat wouldn’t stop and you hated that you didn’t know what to do with it. “I’ll… start packing then.” You took another peek at him. He wasn’t looking at you.

You stood up, but he stopped you. Your heart was making its way out of your ribcage for beating too loud, but it slowed down when he uttered, “Hey, don’t forget your coconut water."

You looked at him with an ‘Are you serious?’ look before taking it, not once unlocking your stare from his and standing up, finished the drink in one gulp. You crushed the can, and threw it in one shot towards the dustbin.

”Oh, okay.” He looked surprised by your reaction.

You stalked your way to the bedroom and closed the door. Sighing exasperatedly, you pressed your back against the door and slid down. You buried your face in your hands before lightly hitting your head with a fist. You felt bad for reacting that way but you found it harder to deny the feeling when you were so confident that you would manage to resist.

Outside in the living area, Ken looked troubled, his forehead wrinkling when he tried backtracking what he did. He turned to look over his shoulder as the spherical robot hovered near him, and he threw his head back.

”What is it, Mina? Are you here to chide me again?”

”In these kinds of situations, the woman is usually hoping the man would stop her from leaving,” Mina said.

”Mina,” he pleaded.

”I believe a misunderstanding had happened,” she offered again, to which he appeared confused. “Please, do look at the screen.”

Ken’s eyes travelled to the projection Mina made. He looked even more confused as one of his solo interviews was displayed. He looked inquiringly at Mina, before the latter sweeped her robotic hands to ask him to focus on the interview.

It was an interview he did some time last week. His face changed when he started catching on what Mina was trying to show.

“So your name has become the talk of the town again for a good reason now.” The interviewer paused for effect. “This is a question that I’m sure everyone has thought of at least once when we’re talking about Ken Sato.” The interviewer looked at him. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in or at least, someone you have set your eyes on?”

Ken’s response was immediate as he laughed and shook his head. “No, no. Not right now.” He leaned back, a relaxed stance as he waved his hand in front of his face. “Right now I’m only focusing on my baseball career. Still got a long way to go. I don’t want to waste my time on something so unimportant.”

The interviewer turned back to the screen. “You’ve heard it directly from the man, folks. He’s-“

Mina switched off the replay while Ken looked regretful.

Exasperated, he said, “Mina, you know I don’t mean it that way.”

“I believe you should be clarifying that with Y/N herself and not me. She is the subject of your affection.”

“Affection-” he mulled over the word. “Do you really think so, Mina? Is this what this…” He put a hand over his chest. “Foreign feeling is?”

“From my observation,” Mina replied as she stayed close to Ken’s shoulder. “Your expression becomes livelier, your smile becomes wider and your eyes twinkle more whenever she is around. Now,” she paused, “you do have that same reaction whenever you’re with Emi. However, I do sense your heartbeat increasing every time you’re with Y/N. I believe this is what they would call a romantic attraction.”

“So in short,” he sighed, “I like her but I’m saying the opposite thing? But-” he almost grabbed Mina to ask her more, “how would I know if she feels the same way? I- I don’t think I can handle rejection from her. Do you sense anything from her?”

There was a silence as Mina backed up, making way towards her room. “I believe that is not a question for me to answer, Ken. Why don’t you sort it out with her?”

Ken looked at the door of the room you’re in, gathering the courage to make his way. He stopped in front of the door, he shook his hands, breathing in and out as his mind reeled with all sorts of apologies and words to offer to you.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, and at the same time you swung open the door, causing him to knock a fist on your forehead.

So much for Ultraman reflexes.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Ken shouted, automatically cupping your face to see the damage he’d done. “Are you- are you okay?”

You blinked, everything happening at once too much for you. He knocked on your door, you happened to open it at the same time and now he’s-

“I’m… fine. Can you…” you tapped your palm on his hand. “...let go?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he let go as he laughed nervously. “Reflexes fail you at times like these, right?” His face fell as he saw you avoiding his gaze. “Hey. Can we talk?”

You looked up, finally looking at him. “Yeah?”

He exhaled. “Like, properly.”

“Have we not been communicating properly?”

Mina suddenly appeared beside both of you. “I apologise for having to interrupt but yes, I do observe some miscommunication going on. So if both of you may sort it out.”

Mina’s hands pushed both of you into the room and shut the door.

There were protests from both but they quickly died down before silence stretched. Both of you exchanged glances but not words, and neither had any idea what the other was thinking of.

All the apologies and words Ken was thinking of offering to you went up in a cloud of smoke. Instead, he asked the one thing he wished he could take back. “So when are you planning to leave?” Dang it, Ken.

Your face contorted, obviously offended. “As soon as I can. Don’t worry,” you walked over to the bed, shoved your clothes into your duffel bag and zipped it up. “I wanted to tell you that I finished packing.”

”You’re leaving tonight?” This time around, he didn’t hide his disappointment. Why, why is it so hard for him to ask you to stay? To tell you what he really feels?

Sure, he couldn’t deny that his attitude came from growing up mostly without his father around. He had grown up with this wall built around him as a defensive mechanism. He found it hard to communicate with others, to explain what he really was feeling.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. He figured it was best to let the feeling die down. You’d be better off with someone else anyway.

”Just tell me when you want to leave,” he finally uttered. “I’ll open the door for you.”

You gritted your teeth and only nodded.

He turned around and shut the door. Mina and his father were outside, the latter having a worried look on his face.

”Kenji,” Professor Sato uttered.

”I want to be alone, dad,” he mentioned. “Mina,” he turned to the supercomputer, “just make sure she gets to where she wants to go safely.”

As Ken shut the door, Professor Sato turned to Mina, to which he uttered, “I trust this is not the time to ask about the progress.”

Mina answered. “Yes, Professor. I believe we may have hit a wall.”

***

You decided to leave early in the morning and with only a note, saying that you’d like to have some time off. Mina was kind enough to open the door for you, but when she asked whether you’d like to have Ken and Professor Sato see you off, you shook your head vigorously.

”Mina, tell them I’m going somewhere nice for a vacation.” You winked, but it was obvious that you were trying to hide something from breaking. “They better not look for me.”

Mina paused, as if she’s using her electronic brain to figure a way to stop you. “Kenji has a reason for acting that way.” A pause. “Though I am merely a robot with little to no experience in romantic relationships.”

You chuckled. “Thank you, Mina. Really, all of you were so kind to me. It’s just that,” you sighed, “I understand why he’d act that way. He has a whole career to look forward to. Adoring fans. He can’t be wasting-“ you gulped, the words bitter on your mouth, “-time on something so insignificant. I shall take my leave.”

”Y/N,” she uttered. “If I may ask one last question before you leave?”

You tilted your head. “Sure, Mina. What is it?”

“Were my calculations wrong about what you’re feeling?”

”And that is?”

”You hated him at first, but that hate has turned into something more… lovely."

You couldn’t help but smile. “It’s so obvious isn’t it?” You crinkled your nose. “I better take my leave before the three of them wake up.”

That was the last you saw all four of them - Professor Sato, Ken, Mina and Emi. That was what… a week ago?

Now you’re sitting, slumped in your bean bag as you groaned, bored out of your mind. Nice vacation, my ass. If that means reading the same books over and over again, surfing the web and watching the same TV shows while being cooped up in your house, you’re definitely having a nice vacation.

Even then, you found it hard to avoid that person. He was literally everywhere.

You switched off the TV, stretched, before something gigantic shook the whole city. Your eyes went wide as you realised that there was a possibility of another attack. Without much thought, you pushed up your glasses and took a glance through your apartment window.

There they are.

You saw both Ultraman and Emi traversing the landscape. You turned around to leave your apartment, but stopped as you heard sharp chirpings.

Emi was hovering near your window and you laughed, amazed at the sight in front of you. “Emi, you grew wings! You can fly now!”

The baby Kaiju smiled at you, seemingly proud that she could finally set off from the ground.

”Emi, come on.” You heard the one voice that could shatter your resolve then and there.

You tried to close the window, had enough, but the hero stopped you from shutting the window.

“Ow,” he complained, flapping his hand. Ken quickly stopped you from leaving as he said, “Look, I’ve been a jerk and-“ a loud boom resonated through the whole city, “-I want to start over.”

You sucked in your lower lip, mulling over his sentence. You lifted up your eyebrows as if to say, ‘Really, right now?’

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I like you, okay? But I didn’t know how to say it. Or maybe I was just afraid of rejection.”

You tried to keep a straight face but failed; you didn’t expect to hear a confession from Ultraman. You cleared your throat as you looked away. “Become a hero, save the day and then say all of that again,” your voice dropped to a whisper, as if anyone could hear you, “as Ken Sato.”

You’re not sure whether it was possible, but his eyes lit up brighter as he nodded. He started a light jog to launch himself before shouting, “Wait for me!” He disappeared in a twinkle in the night sky.

With your best guess, you assumed the fight must be going on between them and the KDF. Knowing that you’d be anxious waiting to see the results of the fight, you grabbed your jacket, set off into the night and tried searching a vantage point where you’d be able to at least get a view of what’s happening.

You found a spot and narrowed your eyes as you tried to get an idea of where the two of them stood. Emi… Ultraman… Is that Gigantron?

You became confused as you remembered clearly Professor Sato claiming that the most magnificent creature on Earth had died. What the hell is going on?

You gripped the railing of the bridge you were on, the fight getting further and further away from you. You watched the fight unfold… breath battered as you were silently cheering them on. You gasped as another figure launched himself into the fight.

”Professor,” you muttered to yourself. “Please, please be safe.”

The fight was a distant chaos, you could barely see what was going on. You gritted your teeth as you waited for the final call, but dropped to your knees as you realised what was going on.

”No, no, no. Ken…"

You saw the shield. Ken underneath the shield, the explosion that should have been loud, but was muffled inside the enclosure Ken had made before blinding light filled the atmosphere.

Tears filled up your vision as you saw the giant hero collapse into the sea.

***

You stared blankly at the unmoving body in front of you, while another person was strategically standing near the exit. You looked over your shoulder as you felt a light, reassuring tap.

Professor Sato wanted to offer some words of reassurance, but you merely shook your head. He let out a heavy breath, saying, “I’ll leave the two of you alone. I'll continue working on restoring Mina.”

”Thanks,” you sniffled. “Professor.”

Apparently on the day the fight happened, Mina was caught in the frenzy and was almost shut down, while the secret base was partially destroyed. Now the Professor was working on recovering Mina, while Ken…

You sighed, looking at the patient in front of you.

Nothing to worry about, actually. Despite the quick thinking of Ultraman in front of you throwing himself over the bomb, he actually managed to escape with just a broken arm. He’s not dead, Ken Sato was still here, recovering.

But what annoyed you was that it seemed every time you came to visit, he would pretend to be asleep. Not even stirring, obviously faking sleep to avoid talking to you.

So what, all that confession was for naught? Just an adrenaline rush from becoming the hero?

This time around though, it did seem like he was fast asleep. His chest was rising and falling steadily. His hair was messy, and you resisted the urge to tidy it up.

”You jerk,” you grumbled. “I was so worried for you, but… you’re really planning on leaving me hanging like this?”

”Y/N…”

You stopped grumbling to yourself as you heard the man in front of you mumbling your name. You leaned forward, curious to hear what he got to say.

”You look so…” he continued, eyes still shut.

You strained your ears to catch more.

”I like you…”

You pressed your lips together before punching his unhurt shoulder, almost too hard.

He gasped, sat up straighter, taking in big gulps of air as his irises move frantically to search for the source of the punch.

”Who-“ he blinked. “Y/N?”

”In the flesh,” you deadpanned.

”What are you-“

”I told you,” you interjected. “Tell it to my face as Ken Sato.”

He looked guilty for a moment, and you leaned back in your chair.

”You’re going to say it was a mistake, aren’t you?” You asked, clearly exasperated.

”No, it wasn’t a mistake!” He quickly said, searching for your eyes. “After the fight that day I felt like being a hero means that there was a possibility I would just-” he imitated an explosion, “disappear.”

You grabbed his collar. “If you know that even any single day you have a possibility of disappearing, that your life is short, then-” the grip around his collar became tighter, “-it means that you have to grab every opportunity as soon as you can. That includes confessing to someone you like.” You threw your hands up in frustration and stood up, pacing back and forth. “God! Why are relationships so complicated? And why am I so, so, so stupid?”

You buried your face in your hands.

“I don’t know,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. “When you said you didn’t have any interest in anyone, and that you didn’t want to waste your time on something so insignificant. Hearing that, I just-” you sighed. “-thought that the answer was so obvious. You have your priorities straight.”

“Y/N-” he stopped you by touching your arm lightly, pulling you over to sit beside him. “That was-” He winced as he felt pain shooting up his arm. He tried again, “That was what I’d usually say in interviews before this, because baseball was the only thing that put a smile on my face. But now…” He took your hand, caressing it. “You came and it was just one, big confusion for me. You are the only person who has managed to,” he chuckled, “cause the Ken Sato to waver. It was a foreign feeling for me."

“Idiot…” you mumbled.

He pulled you closer with his good arm, and obviously inexperienced, you shut your eyes tight as you felt him softly breathing against your cheek. Of course, you thought he’d go for a kiss on your lips, but you heard him chuckle before he pressed a light one on your cheek. You opened your eyes and he was grinning.

He thought you looked adorable.

“What was that?” you asked flatly.

“A kiss?” he said, unsure of what exactly you were implying.

“Uh-uh.”

You grabbed his face, and he looked surprised as you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. Your glasses were in the way so you took them off, and you felt his arm snaking around your waist to hold you firmly in place.

In the heat of the moment and flurry of emotions, you found yourself pinned under him, his good arm caging you. He kissed you again, but this time around you felt your heart beating so loud you had to place your palms against his chest to slightly push him away.

“Ken,” you warned him. “We’re in the hospital.”

He blinked, feigning innocence. “Really? I had no idea.” He traced a finger on your cheek, wiping away the traces of your tears. He pinched your cheek as he said, “The doctor told me that I’m good to be discharged tomorrow.”

Suddenly conscious of how you’re pinned under him, you looked away. “That’s good. You can go back home in no time.”

He tapped a finger on your chin, causing you to look back at him. “My house is still under repair, remember? I’m essentially homeless.”

“You can live with your dad-“

“Take the hint, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead before collapsing beside you, both of you cramped on the small hospital bed.

You thought about how you had never, ever brought a guy home. And now Ken wanted to…?

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

He smiled, squeezing your shoulders as you buried your face in his chest. “Can I ask just one… question?”

“Sure, shoot.”

“What was the dealbreaker, really? The one that made you agree to stay at the secret base?”

“You really want to know?”

“Of course.”

This time, you didn’t even hesitate. “The chance to see the Ken Sato naked of course.”

“Damn it. I knew that was the reason.”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You keep yourself as busy as you can with your friends while your husband is away. Bradley starts to learn that this top secret special mission comes with a very specific set of risks and very few details. But the details he does have make it clear that he's never faced anything like this before.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, masturbation, fluff, mentions of hostages

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You sat in the driver's seat of the Bronco until Bradley's transport was completely out of sight, and you were just squinting into the brightening sky. It was getting late, and you needed to head to work, but the weird mix of emotions inside you was making it hard to even reach for the keys in the ignition and start the engine. 

Bradley was excited about his mission; you knew that for a fact. He couldn't hide it from you when he talked about it, and you wouldn't even want him to. If this is what it was going to take for him to get back into a confident groove at work, then you were happy to send him off into the sky. But it was still impossible not to worry about him. 

You made the trip back home and got yourself dressed in your uniform after you took Tylenol for your cramps. You kissed Tramp and said, "When I get home later, we can watch a movie." Then you took your little red car to work and walked up to your office. 

While Bradley was away, you planned on using this time to catch up with your friends a little bit more. Maria and Cam were the best kinds of friends who could just tell when you needed to focus on your marriage instead of them, but you were really missing those lazy brunches and avocado toast. But Jake was the one you really wanted to have lunch with.

"Sorry, Cat," you murmured to yourself as you walked to the lab. You were ready to force Jake to sit down with you and you alone one day this week, even if that meant asking her nicely to sit at a different table. You still had in the back of your mind the fact that he had other women texting his phone, and you wanted to know what that was all about. 

Cat was the first person you saw when you entered your lab, and while you wanted to talk to her, she was wearing the expensive headphones with her eyes glued to her computer screen, and you knew better than to interrupt. So you waited and texted Jake to see if he was going to be on the ground at lunchtime today. But as soon as Cat removed her headphones, you were there.

"Hey," you said, and she jumped a bit in her seat. 

"Hi," she replied, eyeing you a little suspiciously. "It's pretty early on a Monday morning to be scaring people."

You took a deep breath. "Sorry. Bradley left a few hours ago, and I'm still riding the adrenaline rush."

Her face softened. "That's right. Any idea how long he'll be gone?"

"No clue. But I can already tell he's going to miss his birthday, which is now my favorite day of the year."

She laughed. "That's sweet. Jeremiah's birthday is my favorite day."

You paused and studied her face. "And Jake's birthday? You like that day, too?"

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Seeing as that's not until October, I haven't had a chance to experience that with him yet."

You wrung your hands together. "Do you think you and he will be experiencing it? Together?"

Cat stood and shook her head at you. "If you're trying to ask me what's going on with Jake, then just ask me what's going on with Jake. You and I can't cut the bullshit with each other now."

You felt your cheeks grow warm as you asked, "Did you ask him about the text messages?"

"Yes," she replied immediately. "At first he pretended not to know what I was talking about, and I promptly grabbed my bag and walked out his front door."

"No," you gasped, your hands curling into angry fists. "He didn't."

"He did," she said calmly, nodding. "I made it all the way out to Uncle Bernie's SUV before he chased me down. I told him to remember that I'm not some twenty one year old he met at the bar, and he told me he's an idiot. So I left."

"When was this?" you asked, completely shocked by Jake. 

"Saturday night." Cat was as calm as anything, and you kind of envied her for it.

"What are you going to do?"

She shrugged, and you saw the facade crack the tiniest bit. "Jer is already attached to him. So... that sucks, I guess. I haven't answered Jake's calls, and I haven't decided if I will or not. I needed time to think. I'm honestly a little surprised and annoyed that he isn't in here right now looking for me." Her expression just seemed sad now, and you really wanted to hug her. But Bickel walked in looking for Macy so you decided to just accost Jake yourself when you saw him.

The opportunity arose at lunchtime. "Seresin!" you called out once you had your burrito bowl and hot sauce in your hands. He turned around cautiously as you stormed in his direction. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He smirked. "You'll need to be more specific, Angel."

You glared. "Cut the shit and give me your phone." You set your lunch on an empty table before taking his sandwich container out of his hand. You held out your palm expectantly, and a few seconds later, he handed it to you. When you unlocked his phone and opened his messaging app, you were appalled. Most of the texts were from random numbers, and at least he hadn't responded to any of them, but you were still annoyed. "Why didn't you delete any of these messages?"

Now he was kind of in your face as he hissed, "What's the fucking point? It's not going to make them stop. It'll just make me feel worse when I get more."

You held up his phone. "One girl texted asking if you could come over at three in the morning. Three in the morning, Jake!"

"I know," he said, wrenching his phone back out of your hand. "It was when I was asleep in bed with Cat at Hondo's place. I snuck in the window around midnight just so I could see her, and I read the message when I woke up. It made me want to vomit."

"Well how do you think Cat feels?!" you replied in an outraged whisper. 

"Probably like an idiot," he said with a shrug. "But I'm not doing anything behind her back."

You sighed deeply. "I think she knows that, but you need to make it stop."

"I literally emailed your husband on Sunday night for advice," Jake said, plopping down into a seat at the table and running his fingers through his hair. "He managed to pull you, so he's got to know what he's doing and how I can fix this."

You rolled your eyes and took the seat across from him. "Well if he writes back, take it with a grain of salt. Bradley hardly gives his phone number out to anyone."

"He did write back. He told me after you and he traded numbers, he blocked and deleted everyone else's."

A soft smile found its way to your lips as you thought about Bradley holding his phone the night after you and he first kissed. The idea of him deleting other numbers while he was texting you made butterflies erupt inside you. "Well, you could try doing that," you told Jake. "Either that or get a new phone number. I think that would send the right signal to Cat. If you're still serious."

Jake poked at his sandwich for a few seconds with a scowl on his face, and then he stood, sending the chair screeching a few feet behind him. You watched him walk out of the cafeteria, and when he didn't return, you ate his sandwich and saved your burrito bowl for your dinner instead. You'd eat it at home while you emailed the photographer in Oceanside.

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

Bradley was usually able to get some sleep on the comanche transports, but this time it was too loud and uncomfortable, even with his earplugs. Exhaustion was finally overtaking him as they started to near the US base in South Korea. A nervous energy was thrumming through him. But he did feel more confident knowing that Cyclone and Warlock were running the mission this time, and while he didn't know many of the other aviators personally, he'd heard of all of them. The fact that several of them had been called in from the Atlantic fleet was a little bit alarming and also intriguing to him. 

He quickly learned that the woman sitting across from him was Daphne 'Bluebird' Blue from Lemoore, the pilot he'd filled in for once previously when she'd been injured in a training exercise. Of course that was the same mission Bradley had been lucky to return home from outside of a body bag. Countless stitches, broken bones and lacerations later, you'd nursed him back to health. He wondered briefly if something similar would have happened to Bluebird if she'd flown instead of him. Maybe they were both alive today simply because Bradley had gone in her place. 

The current mission felt like a way for him to bring his confidence fully back. As he walked out of the comanche and then right into a smaller helicopter that was waiting to take them to the aircraft carrier, Bradley ended up sitting next to Bluebird this time. He knew there would be time to meet everyone aboard the carrier, but she had a friendly demeanor. He really wasn't here to make friends though, so he closed his eyes, and luckily this time he was able to fall asleep.

"Rooster." He woke up to Bluebird shaking his arm. "Wake up."

He'd been having the most incredible dream about you, one where you were standing in the backyard singing really badly. Tramp was running around in excited circles and the sun was shining, and when he called out your name, you turned to face him. And you had an adorable baby in your arms. When he looked up at Bluebird with her hand on his arm, he was almost confused. 

"We're on the carrier," she informed him, patting his shoulder before walking out the back of the helicopter. He was alone now, and it was almost quiet, so he took a minute to let his head rest on the nylon netting behind him. The dream felt real to the point that being on the carrier felt foreign now. He rubbed his hands across his face and stood, looking around for his duffle before he walked outside. 

Cyclone was handing out bunk assignments, and thanks to Bluebird, there was an uneven number of males. Bradley got his own bunk. "Get some food, and get some rest," Warlock told the group. "We'll meet tomorrow morning at 0900 to start talking about some mission options."

Bradley's brow scrunched as he followed the labyrinth of hallways in search of his bunk. That was such an odd way to phrase it: start talking about some mission options. It struck him that perhaps he was finally, officially sitting at the proverbial big kids' table. But now he was also a little afraid of exactly what was going to unfold here.

He quickly unpacked his bag and reached for his new notebook, deciding to forego dinner in favor of some quiet and a bigger breakfast in the morning. His thoughts were swirling. He scribbled down a paragraph about Admiral Dean and Slayer, trying to empty his brain of everything negative. He wrote down his feelings about the current mission, and then he paused. 

As he glanced over the page, he realized this notebook wasn't going to be quite like the last one. While he wouldn't hide it from you, it just felt a little different. Then he wrote down the dream he had. This was his notebook, and he wasn't going to change his tactics now. He wrote down everything in as much detail as he could remember. He wrote down the way the sliding glass door felt against his hand and exactly which song the dream version of you had been singing. 

And then he dropped the notebook and pen onto the floor and fell asleep without getting changed. When he woke up, he felt better. The jetlag had confused his body, but luckily he had plenty of time to get himself ready for the day. He ate breakfast alone after a long shower, and then he headed for the classroom. Everyone else seemed a little tense, and Bradley tried to chalk it up to the fact that only the admirals knew what was going on. But frankly they seemed tense as well. 

"Good morning," Warlock greeted everyone with a stern face and a deep voice. The room was absolutely silent for him. "Welcome aboard the USS Nimitz. I'm Admiral Bates, and this is Admiral Simpson. The seven of you have been selected to be here today, simply because you've consistently shown three qualities in your career: you can make good decisions under pressure, you treat your teammates with respect, and you come highly recommended by your superiors. You'll need to employ every bit of your knowledge and skill to make this mission successful. And it is of the utmost importance that we are successful." He paused, and when he spoke again, he was looking directly at Bradley. "Welcome to Operation Loophole."

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

You hadn't heard another word from Jake after lunch on Monday. You'd gone home to Tramp and eaten your burrito bowl before falling asleep on the couch while you tried to watch a movie. Your cramps were so bad, you could barely function, and Bradley wasn't even home to run around and get everything for you. 

"Come on," you said to Tramp as you stood and stretched around midnight. You let him outside and then took your phone to your bedroom while he trotted along behind you. Then you got yourself ready for bed and emailed the photographer who had helped you make Bradley's birthday present last year. She promised she would fit you in again, and you hoped she could take some photos of you this weekend when your period was over and you weren't so bloated.

You curled up in bed after turning the lamp off, and you thought about Bradley. You didn't even know where he was right now. The base in South Korea could be a jumping off point for pretty much anything, and all you could do now was wait and hope for a facetime call. 

After turning your ringer up louder, you eventually fell asleep with Tramp. When you woke up for work, you took your phone everywhere with you. It joined you on the bath mat when you took a shower, and you had it in your pocket as you ate breakfast. You weren't going to miss a call from Bradley this time. 

When you strolled into your lab right on time, Cat was already working, and she had the headphones on again. You tried to settle in to check some code so you could get your submissions out before your deadlines when Jake walked in.

"Angel," he said quietly, and he looked a lot calmer today. His gaze shifted to Cat, and you noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand. He hesitated, but then she carefully slid the headphones off and set them down next to her keyboard. Jake took a deep breath, and you tried to be discreet as you watched him walk over to her. 

She was looking up at him from her seat, and her expression gave nothing away. Jake said a few words and then handed her the paper before turning and walking away. Now he looked a little apprehensive as Cat read the note over a few times. She jumped up from her seat, and the paper sailed to the floor, landing close to your boot. You picked it up and read it as Cat called out to him and reached for his hand to stop him.

I don't want you to give up on me. 

It was followed by a phone number. Jake's new phone number. You smiled as you watched the two of them kissing out in the hallway. When Cat eventually walked back in, trying her best to contain her smile, she looked around a bit frantically for the note. 

"Here you go," you told her, holding it out. She snatched it from you with a grin and then sat down without a word. 

But a few minutes later, your phone vibrated in your pocket with a text from that new number. Angel, come have lunch with Bob, Nat and I today.

You couldn't turn down the invitation. At 12:30, you found yourself holding a lunch tray and sliding into the seat next to Jake as the three of them continued with their discussion as if you'd always been there. 

"I don't want to move to Poway," Bob said as he poked at his salad with his fork. "It will take me forever to get to work, and there's nothing up there anyway. Then you guys will forget about me and stop inviting me to things."

"I never invite any of you to anything," Nat interjected before biting into her cheeseburger. "You all just show up regardless."

"Well, what do you think, Angel?" Jake asked, eating a duplicate of the sandwich you enjoyed yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, but what are we talking about here?" you asked, turning your attention back to Bob when he sighed.

"My landlord is raising my rent," Bob replied. "I'm seriously considering a new place instead of renewing my lease, but nothing I've found seems suitable. And Nat and Jake are very little help."

Nat nodded in agreement, and Jake rolled his eyes. His phone was sitting on his tray, and you saw it light up with a text from Cat. When you met his eyes, he was smiling. 

"Well, Bob," you said, returning your attention to the man across from you, "I will definitely ask around and let you know if I hear of anything that might work out for you. And we could never forget to invite you to things. You're too sweet for that to happen."

"Thank you," he murmured, blushing a bit as he ate a bite of salad. You felt like you owed him a little bit since he'd kept Bradley so calm during that last, painful deployment. He'd given your husband a blank notebook and had taken the time to meditate with him. "How's Rooster's special detachment?"

You shrugged. "No idea. He just left yesterday. I'll be lucky to hear from him at all."

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

The training routine every day for the first week was rigorous, but the really crazy thing was the fact that the admirals still hadn't provided any real details about Operation Loophole. Bradley and the others were in the air working through exercises all morning every morning, and then they were all in the small classroom below deck until late. Oftentimes Admiral Simpson had food delivered to the room as he went over scenarios that didn't quite make sense without all of the information. 

They just kept going over three different scenarios: Alpha, Beta and Gamma. Bradley knew them by heart, and he was sure the others did as well. But they weren't being told which one they would be flying for the mission. They were only being told they needed to be able to perform any of the three flawlessly.

On Friday morning at breakfast, Bradley decided to sit with Bluebird. It hadn't escaped him that the seven pilots all gave each other a bit of a wide berth during any sort of free time. He was left to assume that none of them had ever worked together before. He knew he hadn't worked with any of them. Bluebird was from Lemoore, but none of the others were stationed in California at all. Havoc was from Whidbey Island. Jackal was from Key West. Richmond was from Great Lakes. Wilbur was from Norfolk. Dugout was from Pensacola. 

"Are you starting to get the feeling they're withholding information from us?" Bradley asked as he took a seat. 

Bluebird looked up from her book and laughed. "Are you starting to get the feeling we might never know what's really going on?"

"Shit," Bradley muttered, dousing his eggs in hot sauce just like you would. "If they don't say something soon, I'm going to start begging for information. At first it was exciting to be part of this whole thing, but now, I'm not so sure."

"I completely agree," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "Maybe the seven of us can pull together and riot."

She and Bradley walked side by side down the long corridor to the classroom without speaking, but it wasn't unpleasant. He didn't mind being alone with his thoughts right now, but it was especially nice to know he wasn't the only one who was frustrated here. 

"Close the door behind you," Cyclone barked at Bradley. Everyone else was already seated as the door clicked shut, and Bradley found a seat as well. "Since you've proven you can fly the Alpha, Beta and Gamma scenarios to the highest level of perfection, let's talk a little more about Operation Loophole."

Bradley leaned forward a bit in his seat as Warlock turned off the lights, and the projector at the back of the room lit up the front wall. 

"While giving you the barest amount of information possible," Cyclone started, "I'd like you to memorize what you see here."

Bradley looked at the aerial view of a city and the suburbs beyond. Then the image zoomed in on a small cluster of buildings before zooming further to one building with a dark green roof. He tried to take in every detail of where it looked like the front door opened up directly onto the sidewalk and the fact that there didn't appear to be any other buildings connected to it. The more he examined things, an uneasy feeling started to fill him up. And then he realized that he was looking at a live satellite feed as a motorbike rode past the building.

"This structure is currently housing five hostages. One is American. The other four are from allied countries. As far as our intelligence shows, they've been inside for fifty eight days."

Bradley had to fight the desire to look around the room as dread settled into his stomach. They were going to aid in a hostage extraction. He already knew what this meant. How dangerous it was going to be. 

"Six of you will be chosen. One of you will remain on standby. There is no margin for error. You will be flying unmarked jets. You will be wearing unmarked flight suits. Communication with the carrier will be at short range only. Communication with each other will be through code only. Nobody can know who we are or where we came from or what our country of origin is. You will not fire a single weapon. You will not take a single hit. You will be perfect."

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

Early on Saturday morning, you left your house with your hair and makeup looking flawless. There was literally a suitcase full of your clothing and lingerie in the back of the Bronco as you drove it along the coastal highway, and you were singing along loudly to one of Bradley's playlists. His birthday was next weekend, but you hadn't heard a word from him since he left. You couldn't hold out too much hope that he'd be back in time, because you didn't want to be disappointed later. At least his birthday present would be ready for him whenever he got home.

This year you decided to incorporate Bradley's beloved Bronco into his birthday calendar. Yesterday after work, you spent hours washing and cleaning it up so the blue paint absolutely shined. The idea of becoming a pinup model for the second year in a row was making you antsy to get the photo shoot over with, but he'd told you explicitly how much he wanted another calendar. And you often caught him flipping through the one you made last year when he was supposed to be working out in the garage.

You were smiling by the time you arrived at the rocky overlook a few miles outside of Oceanside, and Flora, the photographer you met last year, was already there. "You look like you're ready for the spotlight," she said as she shook your hand.

"I'm nervous," you told her with a shrug.

"You were nervous last year, and the calendar turned out perfectly. And this time, we've got gorgeous weather and a natural backdrop. It'll be great."

You took a deep breath and got to work. She had you pose all around and inside the Bronco, and she had you move it a few times so it was facing different directions. Once again you brought Bradley's aviators, and they made it into a few photos. Flora helped you discreetly get changed into different outfits even though there was nobody around to see. She took photos of you in your honeymoon bikini leaning back against the hood as well as some in your denim shorts and red bra while you sat on the tailgate. So many poses, you couldn't keep track.

As she scrolled through the photos, examining the screen on her camera in the sunlight, she casually asked, "How do you feel about going topless?"

You pressed your lips together. If you did, Bradley was going to have to make sure nobody else saw it. But you already knew he would lose his shit. In a good way. "Okay, but you'll have to make next June the topless month."

"Sure," she replied as you looked around in every direction before unclasping your bra.

A few hours later, you were dressed in a simple sundress and walking into the usual restaurant for a late brunch. You slid into the booth next to Cam and across from Maria, and you were thankful there was already a mimosa waiting for you. Flora insisted the photos looked perfect, but you were still a little antsy over the state of the calendar.

"I'm starving," Cam whined, signaling for the waitress to come back. "Do you know what you want?"

"I literally just got here," you told him as you sipped your drink.

"You always get the same thing anyway," he murmured. "Both of you do." You could tell he was getting hangry by the way he ordered for all three of you when the waitress came back. "One French toast with berries. One avocado toast with bacon. One western omelette with extra hashbrowns." Then he aggressively bit into a piece of the cinnamon toast that the waitress left on the table. 

"You're in a snippy mood," you told him, and then you realized that Maria was staring at her phone. "What's your problem?" 

Cam sighed and chewed up the rest of the toast. "I'm starving, first of all. Second, I think my boss is going to promote me next cycle, which is great, but I also feel like a dick, because I kind of want to switch labs. And third, Maria won't stop whining."

"I'm not whining!" she whined, rolling her eyes. 

Great. You had to be the parent today. "Well, congratulations?" you said to Cam and he just ate more toast in response. Then you looked at Maria and asked, "What's got you so upset?"

She set her phone down, and you could tell she was apartment hunting. "Rochelle is moving out. Her boyfriend got a bigger place, and she's moving in with him. She pulled a you."

You grimaced and muttered, "Sorry." 

She waved you off. "It's fine. She wasn't that great anyway. But I can't afford two bedrooms alone when everyone else around me is getting married and getting promotions and raises except me," she said blandly, rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Cam downed his mimosa in one go, but you were still looking at Maria. "Hey... you remember Bob Floyd? Phoenix's backseater?"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache and his parade of hot friends," Cam mumbled, and you elbowed him to be quiet.

Maria had a faraway look in her eyes now. "Bob Floyd. He always smells nice."

Cam nodded in agreement. And you nodded in agreement as well. "He does always smell nice," you whispered, thinking about the last time you hugged Bob. 

"Anyway, what about Bob?" Maria asked, still fidgeting with her phone. 

You smiled. "He's looking for a new place."

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

Bradley was in his bunk, getting undressed after dinner when there was a knock on the door. "Yeah?" he asked, opening it up to reveal a petty officer. 

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

"Yeah?" Bradley repeated, buttoning his shirt up again.

"If you want to make a call, there are some free iPads in the communication room. I saw your name on the list."

"Oh," he murmured, quickly tucking in his shirt again and following him out the door. "Thanks."

Bradley's heart was pounding erratically. After you missed his call last deployment, he had gotten so frustrated, and you'd gone to talk to Dr. Genevieve. He was trying to do some quick math to determine what time it was back home, but he was already in the room. He felt flustered as he was given a tablet and a private spot to sit. As quickly as he could, he entered your number, hoping to have as much time to talk to you as he could. 

Just a few seconds later, you answered with a loud, "Roo!" Bradley saw your face for a few seconds before you dropped your phone. Then there was a string of curse words before you picked it up again. "Bradley?!" you asked in a panicked voice.

"I'm here, Baby Girl."

You squealed with delight, and Bradley realized you were standing halfway in and halfway out of the shower. You were completely naked, and you looked like perfection as you asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he replied, knowing there was no way he could share any classified details about his mission with you. He was going to have to keep you talking about yourself as much as possible. "I miss you so much. How are you? How's Tramp?"

"Good!" you gushed, moving under the shower spray and holding your phone out away from you as you rinsed off. Bradley was completely distracted by your wet tits as you said, "I had brunch with Cam and Maria on Saturday, and Nat and I got our nails done. But I miss you. Did you fly yet?"

"Not yet," he rasped as you stood in the far corner of the steamy shower and smiled at your phone. "God, you look good."

Your smile grew as you leaned against the tile wall, bringing your free hand up to touch your breasts, and he could see his wedding ring on your necklace chain. "Do you know when you'll be home? Can you tell me about your mission?" you asked softly as the sound of the shower somehow calmed Bradley's nerves as you wound him up a little bit.

He just grunted. "I'd rather watch you, Sweetheart."

And you fucking let him. Your fingers with your pretty manicured nails brushed along your nipples as you sighed his name. He had no idea how he's gotten this lucky in life, as you treated him to those pretty fingers on your clit and slipping inside your pussy just for him. He watched you masturbate, and he turned the volume down when you got loud. His hand was resting on his cock as he grew harder for you, the sounds you made echoing through the shower enclosure. 

"Baby Girl," he groaned softly as he watched your face on the screen as you came. Perfect. You looked perfect. His mind flashed back to the dream he had as he looked at your face, relaxed and sated. 

"Tell me how much you miss me, Roo," you whispered breathlessly. So Bradley waxed poetic about your body and your voice and how he couldn't get comfortable in bed without you. He made you laugh, and his cock stayed hard as you licked your lips. 

And then he was told he had a minute left. "Hey, listen," he told you softly. "Time's almost up. I don't know when I'll be flying or when I'll be home, but I think this is going to be a crazy one, okay?"

"Okay," you said, apprehension creeping into your voice. 

"But I'm doing great here. I'm ready for anything. So there's no need to worry. I'll be home soon."

"I love you, Bradley."

"I love you so much, Sweetheart."

Bradley felt like he was still in a bit of a daze as he returned to his bunk. He thought about jerking off to the videos you and he made on his phone, but he barely had his shirt off when there was another sharp knock on his door. He answered in just his uniform pants. It was Bluebird, and the sight of her wearing her unmarked, black flight suit added to the adrenaline already coursing through his body. 

"Get changed into your black suit. It's time to go."

She moved down the hallway, knocking on another door, and it took Bradley a few seconds to pull his thoughts together. It was mission time. It must be dark out on deck now. He would be flying at night. He took a minute to breathe deeply the way Bob taught him, and then he got changed. 

He was the last one to walk into the classroom, and it felt so strange to have no identifying clothing or patches on his person at all, especially when the admirals were dressed for a normal day. "Have a seat," Warlock announced, and then he turned the lights out, leaving the room in pitch darkness. "You'll be flying tonight in these conditions. Your eyesight will do little to help you beyond seeing what's on your radar readouts. Rely on your teammates and your instincts instead."

Then the projector clicked on while Bradley's heart pounded. Cyclone was at the front of the room, signaling for the satellite image to be zoomed in further and further. "Our sources on the ground relayed useful intelligence in the last hour. The hostages are most likely being transported around midnight, potentially to an execution site. SEAL Team 7 is ready just off the coast aboard the USS Charleston. You will provide a distraction for the SEAL team, enabling them to penetrate the building and perform an extraction before the hostages can be moved. Two of you will protect a comanche helicopter crew providing imaging for the SEAL team. Four of you will lure enemy aircrafts out over the water and away from the military base located here." 

The image on the wall zoomed out and back in on an airstrip located not too far away from the hostages. Bradley listened as Cyclone told them their current coordinates, the coordinates of the base, and the coordinates of the hostages. "You need to keep the enemy aircrafts away from the Charleston and keep the comanche crew out of danger. Bluebird, you're the team leader for the comanche protection. Wilbur, you fly with Bluebird." Cyclone turned to look at Bradley as he said, "And Rooster, you'll lead the team composed of Havoc, Richmond and Dugout to lure the enemy jets out over the water. Any questions?"

Cyclone nodded at Richmond when he raised his hand, "Sir, are we following flight plan Alpha, Beta or Gamma?"

Cyclone shook his head. "None of the above. You'll be flying flight plan Omega, and we're going to make it up right now."

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

Bradley is out there on the mission of a lifetime. More action coming soon. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[pastryjay]

Oh boy, do I remember this.

At the time, I came across a popular canyon person making a twt thread about how this is definitely going to be Stede talking about Izzy. I (politely) countered that It's not about Izzy, as Stede literally just took Ed's wanted poster off the wall and is saying this while he folds it away. He's clearly justifying why he's continuing to defend Ed, despite his crimes/ reputation.

I can't see their original posts (they blocked me after I interacted with them), but I can see their reply.

The OP and several others were so mad at me for daring to explain that this wasn't going to be about Izzy. I was sent all kinds of crap. Most have since deleted/ blocked me, so I can no longer see their replies, but here's one reply from another canyon person. People were THIS mad.

I hope anyone involved in that thread thought of me when S2 rolled around, and the scene very much was just Stede talking about Ed. I hope they felt stupid for calling ME wrong. This moment couldn't have been clearer in the teaser. It has been nearly a year since then, and that was one of the worst interactions with the canyon I've had.

If I was petty enough, i'd have gone back to that thread when S2 aired to tell the people who told me I was wrong, that their tweets aged like milk. But I wasn't going to re-start old drama.

hey remember when the OFMD s2 teaser video dropped and there were people who were somehow CONVINCED that Stede was referring to Izzy when he said "I don't care what any of you say, he's actually a good guy" and not, y'know, Ed, whom they were literally just talking about in this scene?

like what the hell was that about

[sanctus-ingenium]

Just wanted to ask, please forgive me if you've already answred this, what program do you use? Your art fucks HARD and like. I was looking at your art of the two moths over the city they die in and I was hit with the wave of "oh that looks really fucking fun actually." Like i know my art program can't do some of those effects and like, I'd love to try fucking about with them.

hi there, thank you! all my art is done in procreate and paint tool sai

because you mentioned that drawing in particular i thought it would be fun to break it down and show ppl what exactly went into each part of it so check this out

sketch & lineart - the brushes come from georgbrush.club and the urban sketcher is my most commonly used lineart brush, it has a nice irregular shape. the square brush is nice for big blocky sketches.

the cityscape was REALLY hard but basically I got a photo of the skyline of florence, traced some basic building shapes, then bullshitted the rest using the vertical symmetry/mirror tool to cut down on the amount of work (so i only had to sketch one half of the city). then for lineart I turned off vertical symmetry, turned on the two-point perspective tool, and got this:

the rose windows were made using the radial symmetry tool.

I didn't like it being so flat, so I used the liquify tool to make a kind of fish-eye effect (limited success tbh). I liked how it looked but the buildings in front needed something to cover them up to make the liquification less obvious...

first pass colours. I felt they were very washed out, aside from the sun which i loved. I use the spectra brush (default procreate) for skyscapes a lot, I love the texture. Although the clouds were filled in using the lasso selection tool, I softened the edges using the square pencil again and added texture using true grit sampler grainy brushes. The translucency effect comes from my setting the brush as an eraser. The sun rays come from the radial symmetry tool.

Blocking in the moths' colours was done with the urban sketcher again.

Something people may not have noticed is the labyrinth hidden in the sky! yeah I had a bunch of versions where it was more obvious but I found that it clashed a bit and was too busy, so I made it subtle. But yes. I searched for "royalty free labyrinth" and picked one.

The toner grit brush is one you've seen before if you've looked at any art on tumblr lately (this is such a popular brush) and it's from the true grit fast grit set. The pointillism brush is from the true grit free sampler pack, like my grain brushes.

I added shadows to the moths, increased saturation overall, and changed the clouds to a translucent blue (you can even see in the sun where I forgot to block in the sun itself because the clouds over it used to be opaque lol). Moon rays were drawn using the radial symmetry tool but this time with rotational symmetry off. I also moved the moon down closer to the moths because I felt that it was a bit far away, and this served to visually divide the drawing into three equal parts, so I chose to lean into that and divide the sky colours too, to show passing time, or an endless moment - morning, evening, night, etc.

And then the oroborous, I tried a few different effects on it because I wanted it to be very clearly separate from the main scene - I settled on a dot matrix newsprint texture, using procreate's onboard tool, and some heavy chromatic aberration. This is because the oroborous isn't real, it's purely symbolic and the moths' demise started when they became photographers so I liked the print media aspect there as well. The story itself is about grief without closure, cyclical violence, and sunk cost fallacy, while everyone explores an endless labyrinth, so an oroborous fits I think

what makes art fun to me is thinking up ways I can tell a story using just a single image. and sure a lot of it will be lost to an audience who isn't familiar with the characters or backstory but i want to leave enough in there that even complete strangers to my work will be able to construct a narrative about what's happening here, rather than it just being a cool image. that's my goal.

Finally I exported it to sai on my pc to give it a once-over. this is really important because the retina display on an ipad is oversaturated on purpose, to make everything look amazing and vibrant. but what this means is that on other screens, your work might look washed out. it's especially bad at displaying yellows! so i look at it in sai on my pc and i make minor adjustments, in this case I actually added another multiply layer on the moths and an overlay on their non-shadowed parts to increase the contrast there.

finally if you've read this far, I played a little trick with the caption of the drawing. yeah, THEY die... but only one of those moths is a theythem pronoun haver... the other has to survive. he isn't given a choice in the matter.

[backtoyuta]

I'm Mr Brightside

Han Jisung fluffy College au

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

There are some facts in this world that you can’t deny; the sky is blue, the grass is green, and you and Han Jisung had a chemistry that couldn’t be ignored.

When your friend had first introduced you to her cute, freckled boyfriend and his wild bunch of friends, you were a little intimidated. Their loudness and exuberance had caught you off guard and you could’ve cried when she and Felix had left you to go to the convenience store, paying no mind to how awkward you felt with these new people.

However, you really needn’t have worried. Whilst you were sat there clutching your can of drink and pretending to look busy on your phone, a boy with rounded cheeks and brown doe eyes had sidled into the seat next to you and before you knew it- friendship was born.

Jisung was an incredible friend to have around, he was fucking funny, for a start. He also could be very sensitive when need be, and you and his introverted self gelled so well that you naturally just gravitated towards each other.

When your friends had coerced you into joining them clubbing after having pre-drinks in yours and your friend’s apartment, it was Jisung who stayed sat in the booth with you, chatting over cheap drinks and plotting how you would get the others to call it a night and go get a MacDonald’s.

When you were drowning in the horrendous amount of work your tutor had set you with a deadline due in a matter of hours, it was Jisung who stayed up with you, finding sources for you to cite, organising your notes and coming up with ridiculous ways to lengthen your sentences so you would reach the word count.

When your family pet had passed away, it was Jisung who surprised you by coming over with food, a movie and a “manly shoulder to cry on” which you snorted at, accepting all the gifts graciously before allowing Jisung to take you to the local animal shelter to pet some puppies and grieve for a little bit.

Jisung was amazing, but you can imagine his horror when he found out you had a boyfriend.

Said boyfriend had been left at home while you studied away at university, and Jisung couldn’t deny that he was absolutely sickened. Thus far, it had been an unspoken consensus that you and Jisung were bound to get together at some point. Afterall, you were the one he always scouted the room for at parties, you were the one he went the extra mile for on the daily, and you were the one he was constantly thinking about when you weren’t in the same room.

You can imagine the horror when Jisung swung by your apartment as part of a routine and walked in on you face timing your boyfriend. He couldn’t hide the sneer on his face when he observed how disinterested he was when you were sat in front of his screen, or how he interrupted you when you spoke. After that day, Jisung found himself becoming a little sulky around you and listening to Heartbreak Girl by 5SOS perhaps a little too often. You would often be comforting him or trying to draw him out of his shell, but you never knew for what reason because he would never tell you.

A new dynamic had settled in your group. Jisung liked you, you liked Jisung- this was common knowledge. However, you couldn’t ignore the tension in the room when the boyfriend was brought up. You may have just mentioned him in passing, occasionally you would have an argument or two that came with the long distance, but Minho’s eyes would flicker to Jisung’s concernedly while the blonde boy tried to remain unbothered.

“sounds like an ass to me.” Minho piped; his face full of mirth while you got flustered.

“He’s not… he’s just weird like that.” You had attempted to defend, though it was true, he could be a bit of an arse sometimes. Despite the truth in Minho’s words, it was to a certain someone’s dismay that it didn’t appear that you would be breaking up with this arsey boyfriend of yours any time soon.

Though it was painful, Jisung had been raised right, plus he wanted to maintain a good friendship with you at the very least. He had perfected hiding his emotions to a tee and reigned in the heart eyes out of respect for your relationship. As time had progressed you both got closer, a sort of chemical imbalance occurring as it was obvious yours and Jisung’s chemistry overrode yours and your boyfriends completely.

How about that time during movie night at Jisung’s apartment? The flat he shared with his seven other roommates was at max capacity with you and your best friend there too and it was at Jeongin’s request that you watch all the Woman in Black movies in succession. Having never been a fan of horror, and nor was Jisung, it wasn’t long until you felt your phone vibrate with a text while Jisung tried to look as though he wasn’t shitting his pants from across the room.

J: you wanna watch toy story in my room upstairs?

Y/N: I would very much enjoy that.

J: nice

It was Seungmin that had eventually excused himself to use the bathroom, which was where he thought he would find you after you made your great escape, but instead the glow of Jisung’s laptop catching his attention through the door that was ajar and You got a friend in me wafting from the room. You maintained a friendly distance in Jisung’s bed, the blanket was warm, but the heat Jisung radiated was warmer, you couldn’t help but feel the itch to tuck yourself into his side- like a couple would. Seungmin figured he’d tease you both for being pussies later, something was telling him that he should leave you both be in the bubble you created.

There was that other time you were sat in the boys’ kitchen close to midnight, your best friend listening intently with Chris and Felix while you bitched about your boyfriend over the kitchen table.

“So, remind me what he did again?” Chris questioned exasperatedly; his head tilted in your direction while you huffed into your mug of tea.

“You know that video I posted of Jisung on my story?” You elaborated, Chris and Felix’s heads nodding in unison as they thought back to the clip you had taken of the two of you. Like mature young adults, you and the others had been bored and tired of classes and thought it would be fun to let off some steam in the deserted play park at eleven ‘o clock at night. It was Felix who had suggested a game of sardines in the dark and eerie play area, and you and Jisung thought you were geniuses by hiding in the giant plastic slide. Not only had the boys and your best friend taken ages to find you and congregate in the same slide- while Chris was left scratching his head and scouring the park to find you all, but you had also taken some pretty hilarious videos of Jisung in the tube, reading the vile graffiti that teens had written in sharpie on the inside and at one point him losing a shoe in the confined space.

“Yeah, he was pissed at Jisung for literally no reason.” You vented, taking a sip of your drink and cringing at how the fun memory had turned sour because of your petty boyfriend.

“Pissed how?” Felix asked, curious about what he could possibly have had to say about one of his closest friends. With your back to the living area, you didn’t hear the soft pad of Jisung’s socked feet entering the room, you just continued to explain your tiff before Chris or Felix could say anything.

“He was saying stuff like: “Why are you always so close with Jisung? You always laugh with Jisung, you never laugh like that with me, you’re always so awkward with me now- blah, blah, blah.” You finished, rolling your eyes. You’d feel more sympathetic towards your boyfriend’s insecurities if they weren’t so irrational. He’d met Jisung on facetime enough times and hadn’t said a word then, plus he was acting like you should be totally friendless and unhappy so long as he wasn’t there to make you laugh. You couldn’t help that being with Jisung was so seamless, his charisma and humour complimented yours almost a little too well.

“I don’t know…” You sighed, still ignorant to the figure behind you, “… maybe don’t tell Jisung, I don’t want him to get all weird about it.” You finished, finally looking up to meet the eyes of the two boys who were staring at something straight over your head.

As soon as you saw the way that Chris fought the laugh that was etching onto his face, and how your best friend was looking like a deer caught in headlights, you just knew. You turned to face the blonde properly, he was dressed in sweats and a loose t-shirt, seemingly roused from his sleep and you couldn’t help but coo internally at his ruffled hair and awkward expression at what he heard. You had tried to mollify the situation, babbling explanations and telling him to not worry about your ass-hat of a boyfriend but you had no idea what was going on in Jisung’s head. He knew it was a little petty, but he couldn’t help but preen at his ego being groomed at the thought of despite knowing you for less than half the time your boyfriend had known you, the laugh that made his serotonin shoot was a laugh that you reserved for only him; and he was the one you weren’t awkward around.

****

“I’ll be down in a sec!” You yelled to your friend from your dorm room. It was 11:30 at night, late for a school night, but early in the evening you had planned. You weren’t a massive fan of the uni clubbing scene; more often than not, you were more likely to stay for the pre drinks and wave off your drunken friends out the door, but tonight you had made a promise to at least try and enjoy yourself. You gulped down the last of the vodka lemonade you had been nursing while adding the last touches to your makeup. It was impossible not to cringe at the burning taste of the liquor, but you’d do anything to get yourself sufficiently drunk tonight. It was a delicate balance; with the right alcohol, the right people and the right music you could have an amazing time- if anything out of those things were off, you’d be whining to go home in no time at all.

You put little emphasis on the right people, you had no doubt that the group of boys your friend had introduced you to were the right people to go out with- loud as hell and all with a lust for life that was infectious. You felt warm at the thought of seeing Jisung, despite seeing him most days, you knew he’d be the Clyde to your Bonnie tonight… If Bonnie and Clyde were notorious introverts, and not, ya know… murderers.

You could already hear the base of the grimy music thumping, and the yells and whoops of the boys from the communal kitchen. The LEDs that were lazily hung by one of your roommates flashed and changed and made the corridor look disorientating until your eyes adjusted, and you strolled your way to your friends with your empty cup in hand- eager for a refill.

Your friend greeted you animatedly from the entryway, Felix in tow as per usual, she spoke quickly about mixer in the fridge and how you would be leaving for the club at half past twelve at the earliest. You were only half paying attention, you could see in your periphery Jisung’s cute round face from his perch on the kitchen stool, his hands holding his phone but his doe eyes watching your form intently. In a matter of seconds, your eyes were making contact with his and you smiled warmly. You could see from his hunched figure and severe lack of a drink that he was feeling a little out of his depth- you knew the feeling all too well and wasted no time to stroll over to him with two cups in hand.

***

Jisung knew he was being obvious, try as he might to be subtle, it was impossible not to gawp at your figure clad in a cute dress and your ankle boots, gorgeous as ever and a little rough around the edges. He couldn’t help it, your presence was always a huge comfort to him, you were the best person to seek refuge with when he went through spells of anxiety and you were his favourite shoulder to cry on. He couldn’t supress the smile that crept on his face when you noticed his figure, both of you sharing a knowing smile when you grabbed two cups from the side and made your way over.

“Boy looks like he needs a drink,” you teased playfully, slinking up to his rigid body and swiftly twisting the cap off the bottle of vodka that was in reaching distance.

“You know me too well.” Jisung answered back, the undertone of an inside joke lingering around you. You were both cut from the same cloth; pretty much being forced to go out to the club when it was a mutual understanding that you’d just rather- not?

After sloshing a shot of vodka in the cup, you cracked open a new can of Redbull and split it between the two of you, chuckling at Jisung’s cringed out expression after taking a brave gulp of the concoction. Yeah, it was strong, but the key to survival and making the most of these kinds of nights was to get at least sufficiently tipsy. Worst case was that the alcohol never hit you and you would spend a sobering time circulating the smoking area, photobooth and seating area with your platonic other half.

The pre-drinks continued smoothly, a game of ring of fire ensuing whilst you were in an animated conversation with Jisung about your “game plan” for night.

“You know Changbin had nearly a whole bottle of wine before we got here, he won’t last the whole night.” Jisung attested, the both of you observing the boy laugh loudly while simultaneously trying to chat up one of your roommates.

“God, he’ll be sick before 3am, he’s drinking a desperado…” You gaped horrified, Jisung laughing before the severity of the situation hit him.

“Crap… I don’t really want to peel him off the kitchen floor again, he nearly vommed on my shoes last time.” The blonde shuddered at the memory. You just ruffled his hair affectionately, Changbin was a big boy, and you felt comforted when you noticed the watchful eye of Chris observing him from across the kitchen island; Changbin was in good hands.

The following hour flew by, you and Jisung making what you thought were accurate predictions on how you thought the night was going to go down based on your drunken friends. When it was time to grab your little cropped denim jacket and your purse, it was just shy of one in the morning, and you all began the small trek to the nearest club.

It didn’t escape your notice how close you were when you walked. Occasionally Jisung would stick an arm out and draw your waist closer to him when a stranger walked past, your hands brushing against each other’s in a frustrating game of will they or won’t they hold hands. Just as you were coming to the club’s entrance, your phone rang, and you couldn’t hold back the urge to roll your eyes. You shouldn’t have told your boyfriend you were going out tonight, he had choice words about it earlier and no doubt did he have choice words about it now.

“You could just not answer him.” Jisung mused gently, both of you joining the back of the queue and watching your phone light up with the call. Not wanting the impending argument to roll over to tomorrow you answered anyway, chuckling at Jisung and giving yourself some space while you had a conversation.

“You would love that, wouldn’t you?” Jeongin teased quietly, only so he and Jisung could hear. A swift jab to the ribs was what caused Jeongin to squawk, and then cease his tormenting. Jisung’s attention was recaptured by you; your inability to hide your expressions coming to the forefront when he caught sight of your scowl that was illuminated by the street- light that loomed above you.

“I can’t believe you went out anyway.” You boyfriend lectured, annoying as ever.

“I don’t know why you expect me to just sit around all day and do nothing? I want to have some fun for fucks sake-” You replied angrily, your temper quickly reaching a peak.

“You’re at a club! How do I know you’re not gonna neck it on with every guy there?!”

“It’s not my problem you’re feeling insecure… just leave me alone.” You quipped back, causing a chorus of “Oooohhhhs” from Chris and Changbin at your verbal take down. You were trying really hard not to giggle; this wasn’t a good time.

“Yeah, well, what do you expect? You’re always with that other guy how do you expect me to feel? Is he there now?” You glanced at Jisung anxiously, not really wanting to lie, but you knew what your boyfriend wanted to hear. “Well? Is he, or isn’t he?” Your boyfriend continued to put pressure on you, making you squirm.

“Well… yes, he is, but what’s that got to do with anything?” You huffed dejectedly, already hearing the loud sigh from the other side of the line.

“Just go home Y/N, have someone else walk you home or something, just go home before I get really mad.”

“I want to have fun, you can get really mad for all I care,” and you hung up with a flourish. Looking back up, you couldn’t supress the laugh at watching Felix pretend to drop a mic, the others jeering at you standing up to your dick of a boyfriend. You got back in line with Jisung, trying to shake off your pissy mood so as not to ruin your night.

“He really hates me, doesn’t he?” Jisung muttered, fiddling with one of his bracelets anxiously.

“You don’t mind him Jisung,” you comforted, “He hates everything with a penis.” You tried to joke to take the edge off. He did laugh though, so it kind of worked. Finally, you got the front of the line, presenting your IDs to the bouncer before making your way inside the illuminated building, your heart already vibrating from the loud music.

****

The club was an absolute mess in the best way. Choosing a highlight wasn’t easy- however at one point your friend had captured the attention of someone who was not Felix. You were fully prepared to go over there and snatch her back with no questions asked but watching Felix Mc Hammer his way over to reclaim his girlfriend was much more entertaining. Your pre-drinking had worked a charm, you weren’t off your face, but you definitely felt a lot looser than you normally would and as did Jisung, even daring to join the others on the main dancefloor at one point. You were never a sexy dancer, but that wasn’t the vibe anyway with the 2000’s hits the DJ was playing, and you couldn’t be happier to get groovy with Jisung to Jennifer Lopez and Pitbull or absolutely losing it over Avril Lavigne.

The mood was high by the time you finally decided to leave, your heart set on putting your pyjamas on and ordering a McDonalds before calling it a night. You clung to Jisung absentmindedly, the drinks you had consumed in the club making you wobble and sway with every step. You had been right about Changbin by the way; you knew it was your cue to leave when he announced he had vomited in the club toilets, a defeated look gracing his features.

You didn’t feel too great either, but the nausea in your stomach wasn’t caused by the alcohol. Your boyfriend had called back a couple of times, probably fuming at your last conversation, but for the sake of everyone enjoying the night out Minho had tugged the phone from your hands and promptly switched it off before handing it back. You couldn’t help but worry though, the inevitable wrath you’d have to deal with came closer with every minute that ticked by.

Finally, you stumbled back into your student apartment, eight boys, your best friend and a couple of your other roommates in tow, all ready to collapse into the living room and demolish some fast food. You excused yourself to your room to shed your jacket and shoes, your body failing you quickly when opening the door. Luckily, you had waiting arms to steady you, Jisung pushing the heavy door for you and following in behind, his stance looking a little wavy as he too- was very drunk.

“God, he’s gonna be so pissed at me…” You said to no one in particular, flinging yourself onto your bed. Jisung followed suit, the sound of your door clicking shut as he settled beside you and let his gaze fall to the photos and polaroids you had decorated your pin board with. He couldn’t help but feel his confidence inflate a little as he observed that a photo you had taken with your boyfriend had been covered up almost entirely by the pictures you had taken in a photobooth from a different night out with him. The four pictures were undeniably adorable, his favourite being the one where you both finally figured out where to look and both of your giant smiles taking the focal point, the other be the one where you were laughing, and Felix and your best friend had poked their heads into the curtain to photobomb you. Jisung took up an awful lot of your photos, from the slightly awkward smiles from when you first met each other to the shameless silly faces you pulled from the last time you had your camera out. Surely, there had to be a reason, subconsciously or not, why Jisung’s picture shrouded the person’s that you were supposed to be dating.

“Why are you still with him?” Jisung quizzed bravely, his drunkenness making him more confident. There was a sudden change in atmosphere, the air around you became thick with tension at the softness of his voice. You both knew he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity, there was a clear subliminal and unanswered question; why aren’t you with me?

“I… don’t know.” You answered honestly, your voice sounding so unsure as you flipped onto your side to face the boy properly. You propped your head up with your hand, your mind still swimming with intoxication as Jisung looked to you properly too. His hair was pushed from his face, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes bloodshot. He looked hot tonight, his light denim jacket and white T-shirt and jeans a simple outfit, but of course he made it look like a runway outfit effortlessly. “It’s not easy… breaking up with someone, we’ve been together a long time.” You explained softly. It hurt, to watch the disappointment cloud his eyes, so much so, that you stood swiftly to shed more of your accessories in order to distract yourself from the conversation at hand. It didn’t seem like Jisung was having it though, being the polite and gracious boy he was, he normally would’ve left the conversation at that, but being drunk and in his feels was spurring on a different side of him tonight.

“It could be though…” Jisung stood just as you turned to face him, your new close proximity catching you off guard and causing you to stumble back. “… I don’t want to upset you, but it’s not fair… he’s an ass.” He emphasised the last word deliberately, to which you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree. Jisung wasn’t much taller than you, but in this moment, with his newly found confidence he seemed to tower you, your figure shrinking in the small space. You took a step back, though you were mad at your boyfriend- you weren’t a cheater, but that resolve was becoming weaker and weaker as Jisung took a step closer to shrink the gap you had made wider. “I don’t want to do the cringe speech where I say how much better I am... but I don’t want to be with anyone else.” He took another step, and you took one back. Your dorm room was tiny, and it didn’t take much until you were entrapped by the wall and the boy in front of you. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, thrilled was probably the better word for it. Equally terrified and equally excited, you low-key loved this part of Jisung- but you didn’t want to be disloyal either.

You couldn’t think of the words to argue, because your argument was void. Jisung had every right to feel like he was the better guy for you… because he was. It was a tad daunting at how self-aware he was but any fool could see it. The air was so hot and thick between you, your words kept falling off the tip of your tongue as you attempted to rationalise your feelings, ultimately failing each time.

“You make me so happy; I’ve never met anyone like you… I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone like you again.” He continued, taking one, final, baby step closer. You couldn’t have been any more than a couple of inches apart, his breath warm as it fanned against your face and it made your stomach flip.

“You’re drunk…” You tried, the last-ditch effort to deter the boy in front of you.

“So are you… plus they say drunk words are sober thoughts…” He trailed off almost cheekily, a dark chuckle sounding as his eyes fell down to your lips, his tongue poking out to wet his own in anticipation.

“Jisung…” You muttered, already knowing full well where this was going.

“…Just say no, if you want me to stop.” He murmured, his head dipping closer and closer to yours by the second.

Whilst your conscious was screaming at you to say no, push him away, slam the door on him, literally anything to stop what was about to happen from happening, you just didn’t care. Jisung’s lips were light on your own, first dipping down to kiss you experimentally, his hair tickling your forehead and hands wrapping around your waist lightly, before going back in with new fervour.

The only way you could explain the feeling was pure relief. The way he kissed you with both passion and a tenderness was something you could never experience with your boyfriend. Obviously, a part of this felt so wrong, but a huge part felt so right. The hand that slid around your side and the other that came to tangle in your hair had you fitting together like puzzle pieces. It took a minute for your subconscious to overlap your moral compass, but when it finally did, Jisung sighed contently at the feeling of you kissing him back with equal emotion. The taste of liquor remained on both of your tongues, your bodies equally warm from drunkenness and it made the room feel stifling. Only when Jisung had begun to tug and push your jacket from your shoulders, the movement of his head feeling like it had every intention of pressing the most searing kisses to the newly exposed skin, that you felt like you had to stop.

You pulled away stiffly, your body language evidently moving against its will. Your head fell back against the wall with a dull thump, your breathing slightly laboured as you let the silence and tension speak for itself. Welp, it was official. You had cheated on your boyfriend, to some degree… Shit.

“I’m sorry…” The boy in front of you muttered, his cosy embrace already slipping off from around you, making you feel cold and empty.

“Me too.” You whispered back, your head hanging. It didn’t need to be said, you both knew that no one, other than the two people in the room would ever know about what just happened. Jisung sniffed, shrugging his shoulders back in an attempt at getting himself together before pushing his sweaty hair from his face.

“I’m gonna go, order some food…” He spoke in a tone that was supposed to feel casual. You just nodded, allowing him to leave the room and walk down the corridor to join the others in the living area.

Jisung knew it was a mistake to kiss you, not because of your boyfriend, but because he knew in his heart that if he kissed you once he would inevitably want to kiss you again. Not knowing what it would feel like was one thing but knowing that it sent his heart into an addictive over drive, his nerves charging with electricity was something else. In short, he felt like an idiot; it already sucked enough to be the guy that everyone knew was in love with a girl that he couldn’t have, what sucked even more was that he knew for sure now that you liked him back. However, he was far too used to acting like he was unbothered, a skill he never thought he would have to utilise so much- until he met you. He had perfected the art of playing Mr Brightside, and no matter how sick to his stomach it made him feel to see you remain with the D-bag that was your boyfriend, he still had the ability to be a genuine and supportive friend.

****

Maybe it was more obvious to an outsider, but you weren’t dumb. It was clear that the longer you stayed away from your boyfriend the more your relationship broke down. A part of you was telling you to keep persevering because all relationships have their struggles, but another part was telling you to just dump his ass. You were more inclined to listen to the latter; unsurprisingly, the kiss you shared with Jisung had stuck with you for weeks. In the shower, eating breakfast, trying to catch up on work, any given moment your brain was occupied with the memory of his hands in your hair and the brush of his lips. Quite honestly, the most hot and heavy moment you had ever experienced in your life- not once had the guy you were in a committed relationship with kissed you with so much passion. You had attempted to actively avoid the boy for a couple of days, but it all just seemed redundant when he was living rent-free in your mind anyway. He didn’t need to be there physically; you were a mess either way.

Being the person that you were, you didn’t think to announce to all of your friends when the deed had been done. Looking back, the breakup itself had taken a bit of beating around the bush to finally come out with it, and a huge amount of explaining that you weren’t dumping him solely for Jisung. At the end of the day, he just wasn’t the one, and you had to assure to him and yourself that you were doing this for you and only you. Of course, you were quite saddened by how things had worked out, but the overwhelming feeling of freedom had eclipsed that after a day or two of moping around. Only you were aware for the first few days that you were now a single pringle, you didn’t want to announce it to everyone as if your life was some kind of reality show, so when the cat did come out of the bag you tried to be as lowkey about it as possible:

“How are you Y/N?”

“Doing better Jisung, thanks.” You fumbled, taking off your shoes.

“How’s the boyfriend?”

“… What boyfriend?”

You hid your smirk as everyone’s breath caught at your words, the silence that lasted half a beat deafening as you straightened up and made your way to the sofa to flop. Jisung was in shock, evident from the way his mouth gaped slightly at his loss for words, but his most guilt-tripping dream had finally come true.

The next few weeks was a true test of Jisung’s patience. He knew you, and despite your totally valid past complaining, he knew that you wouldn’t jump into a relationship with him immediately. However, despite the undertone of angst and anticipation that normally hung in the air around you two, it was more or less vaporised by Jisung’s hilarious and totally not-subtle flirting.

“You don’t understand Felix, Y/N used to be obsessed with Cody Simpson when we were in middle school.” Your best friend teased.

“So I liked blonde boys with Justin Bieber haircuts, sue me!” You laughed in response. The others laughed along with you, but not at what you had just said. Jisung was putting on an Oscar worthy performance of miming writing down this imperative information about your 12-year-old self’s ideal type, making a show of looking invested while you had your back to him.

You almost felt bad, your “mourning period” (as your best friend had called it) wasn’t nearly as depressing as you had anticipated. Frankly, you thought you’d be more of a wreck, but Jisung was making that nearly impossible, as not a day went by where you weren’t exposed to some of the worst pickup lines you had ever heard.

“If you were a transformer, you’d be Optimus Fine” Jisung exclaimed proudly, his eyebrows wriggling suggestively in an attempt to be smooth.

“Chris taught you that, didn’t he Jisung?” You deadpanned, trying not to laugh at his derpy face.

“I’m not Jisung right now… I’m Peter.” This caused you to choke out a laugh, the joke being that you’d only use his English name when he was being either a shameless fuck boy, or an absolute idiot. His chaotic alter ego, if you will.

The best part to come out of this was the freedom for being physically affectionate, the little voice in your head telling you to keep your distance finally silenced. There wasn’t time to feel upset about your long-term relationship coming to an end, not when you spent the time you would’ve been crying wrapped up in a blonde boy’s embrace, the rain pattering against the window as you indulged in some good true crime in your blanket nest. Jisung’s chest was the perfect pillow for your head, his arms that had become a lot more buff since he had been working out daily warm and secure around your form as you sprawled out half on top of him. You had no qualms about your questionable position when your eyes got heavy, the arduous all-nighter you had both committed to the night before finally taking its toll as you both napped to the sound of graphic murder on your laptop.

All of this went hand in hand with the previous consensus. You and Jisung were bound to get together. The question was simple- when?

This leads to the current situation. Now in March, it wasn’t long until you’d all be separating for the easter break, and so it was only appropriate to have one last meetup at one of the university’s bars and enjoy drinks for buy one get one free.

Walking out onto the balcony, you felt the mild breeze ruffle your hair a little, pulling your jacket around you tighter, you watched fondly as your friend did a little run to greet Felix with a hug and a sweet peck on the lips, you took your own time to walk over to the group of boys you were meeting.

As naturally as ever, your gaze met Jisung’s quickly, him sending you a little half smile as he moved his jacket to reveal an empty space on the bench beside him. Not wasting a moment, you sidled up next to him, already pulling out your phone to order your drinks and falling into easy conversation with the boy beside you. The others exchanged knowing glances, Changbin and Hyunjin rolling their eyes and laughing at how useless it was trying to engage you two in their chat when you were both engrossed in your own bubble.

The hours had slipped by; you barely noticed how dark it had gotten and the balcony was fully illuminated by the trendy twinkly lights that lined the perimeter. When the time had rolled from 10 pm to 11 pm, you all made the effort to grab your coats, down the last of the drinks and begin the dawdle back to your respective apartments.

Jisung knew his timing wasn’t great, but he couldn’t say goodbye to you for three weeks and twiddle his thumbs without at least trying to ask you out- officially. You were in no rush, walking and talking slowly to try and prolong the conversation you were having as you walked side by side along the river. Your laughter resonated along the busy street, the little alcohol in your system and Jisung’s usual funny self making your ribs ache with giggles.

The others were way ahead of you, and you felt your heart sink at the sight of your apartment building coming into view. You weren’t quite ready to say goodbye- though you could probably manage to visit each-other, and you would call and text, you would miss seeing Jisung every day. Your walk dwindled into a stand-still, the darkness making the campus buildings and various complexes look ten times prettier as they were illuminated, and Jisung held your hands tentatively.

The anticipation that you both felt continuously quickly built up, this time though, it felt like you had reached breaking point. The elastic band that was being stretched and stretched was about to snap, and your stomach flipped with adrenaline and fondness for the boy standing right in front of you.

“I have to tell you a secret, before I actually throw myself into the river.” Jisung chuckled, both his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the back of your hand, his face a mixture of mirth and nerves.

“I’m listening.” You replied simply, trying to look sincere.

Jisung swiped his tongue over his lips quickly, daring to look you in the eyes for half a second before averting his gaze to the floor again. Clearly, “liquid courage” was the leading factor to his boldness the last time you were this close. You hoped Jisung didn’t need to be almost wasted in order to be as forward as he was before, the hot and heavy kiss you had shared previously wouldn’t be unwelcome in the near future. With a gentle squeeze to his warm hands did he finally gain a little confidence, his usual cheeky smile adorning his cute face once again and you braced yourself for what he had to say.

“I really, really like you.”

“Not really a secret though, is it?” You caught him off guard with your sass, his mouth gaping comically as you laughed at his expression, him still clinging to your hands. He couldn’t help but join in on your giggles though, your contagious laughter and easy-going personality made him wonder why he was so nervous in the first place.

“Whatever! Will you go out with me?” He asked, almost exasperatedly, now letting go of your hands and circling your waist instead, both of your bodies fitting together like a lock and key while you placed your hands on his shoulders.

“of course, I will.” You smiled, taking a moment to appreciate the way Jisung’s face lit up and the giant smile that broke out onto his features

Though it was cliché, it really felt like your “happily ever after” moment. In no time at all did you feel a familiar pair of lips make contact with yours, and a familiar hand trailing up your spine under your coat, coming to a halt at the base of your neck. You had the freedom to give into your instincts and clutch his jacket, pulling him in closer before allowing a hand to bury itself into his fluffy hair. You knew Jisung was never a fan of PDA, but it warmed your insides knowing that he apparently couldn’t wait until you were somewhere more private to do this. Honestly, you were so excited to start this relationship with him; he was already a best friend to you, and your connection had such a strong platonic foundation that meant he had the ability to make you laugh until you could pee whilst also making you a mess of butterflies and stutters. You smiled lightly when he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, both of your faces flushed and lips swollen, you kept one hand interlocked as you tried to catch up with the others. Patience really was a virtue, it would seem, and Jisung couldn’t deny that it had paid off. No matter how much he felt tormented by your past relationship, he could sleep soundly at night with the knowledge that he would never have to be Mr Brightside ever again.

[datsleepygirl]

when things get hard, will you still be by my side? Law x Reader Comfort

- most people know this, but if you're new here, law is my comfort character, so I had him in mind when writing this.

before you proceed, please know that :

I've been in a difficult position in life for the past few months, so please don't expect any greatness from me. I'm not really in a position where I can sprinkle some fluff here and there like I was able to in the past, but I tried my best to make the end as fluffy as possible. this is just a simple piece of scrabble with myself as 'inspiration'. I needed a way to express how I felt for the past few months, so I decided to turn it into a piece as I realised that I haven't been posting much lately. hopefully someone can get some enjoyment out of this. :))

status : not proofread

- tw. mentions of depression, self struggles, reader in denial of anyone loving her, self hatred, bunch of comfort, fluff in the end if you squint. law and reader aren't together yet, but they have been playing cat and mouse for a while.

It's like every time I step through these doors, they all look at me with pity in their eyes, like they're looking at a poor stray cat on the street that no one wants.

Aside from all those times, it's also like they're judging me for slacking off and moping around in my room. The captain's probably thinking of ways to get rid of me without telling me that I'm useless. That's how he is. He starts off as this cold and unapproachable person, but once you've entered his life, he'll always find a way to take care of you. The once frequent knocks on my door proves that right. He'd come and check on me, asking if I had eaten anything or have I been feeling ill, but his concerns were always answered with a smile of mine and reassuring him that I'm fine. With that going on for a while, he probably figured out that I was lying to his face, or maybe him simply don't have the energy to pretend that he cares about me anymore. That's how everyone on this submarine behaved lately.

I looked around my room, all dark and gloomy. Yesterday, I found the energy to clean it up a little as it was starting to get out of hand. If there's one thing that gets on Law's nerve the most, it's clean and dirty laundry mixed up on the floor. Even at my lowest, my mind always drift to him. Because even if I knew from the beginning that he won't return my feelings, my feelings for him are just growing stronger and stronger every second. With the state that I'm in now, there's no way that I would be able to be around his presence, let alone look him in the eye and start a conversation with him. Maybe that's why I did everything in my power to avoid leaving my room. The fear of rejection, even after years of being an outcast, still makes me feel like I'm about to suffocate. It's almost like as long as I don't leave this room, as long as I don't see Law, I can keep staying here, even if none of my crewmates like me anymore.

When I look out the window, I can see the moon, a gift for all minks, hanging high up the sky. My thoughts naturally drifted to Bepo, the absolute sweetheart of this crew. And when I think about it, I can't help but feel bad about myself even more. How did I manage to get the sweetest creature in this world to hate me as well?

'Damn y/n... just how pathetic can you be...'

Voices in my head echoed louder and louder every passing day. Voices that tell me I'm useless and unwanted here. Voices that tell me there'll never be a place for me where I can call a home. Voices that tell me I'll never be loved, that I don't deserve to be loved.

When Law came to check up on me in the past, that split second of seeing him and hearing his voice made the voices go away. But when he leaves, the voices come back instantly. I've told myself that relying on other people is a bad decision, simply because I'll always be left alone in the end. But somehow, trying to separate myself from Law is completely different from what I had ever experienced. My heart screams for me to just call out to him for help, but my brain knows that everything will just turn out the same eventually. I'll just be more of a burden to Law than I already am.

.

"y/n-ya, are you in there?"

A knock and the soft but deep voice that I had fallen in love with startled me.

Why is he here? Why is he here at night? Why is he here when he should be in his study at this hour? A million questions ran through my mind as I could only come up with one conclusion.

He wants me off his submarine.

The voice on the other side of the door called out to me again as I finally stood up, slowly making my way over to the door. A sigh of relief escaped from him as he saw me open my door. However, at this state of mine, I misunderstood it as a sigh of annoyance. He's annoyed that it took me so long to open the door.

"I wanna talk to you. Can I come in?" he wasted no time, cutting straight to the point. I nodded, moving aside as he made his way into my room. I closed the door behind me while he looked around my room, clearly surprised that it has become a lot cleaner than before. "I see you put your laundry away and cleaned up a little." Law started, sitting on my bed while taking off his hat.

Thousands of thoughts in my head are giving me a headache. I wanted to make him believe that I'm doing okay. But before I realised, my words rang around the whole room.

"Yeah... can never be too sure about when I'd have to leave now, can I? It's best to have everything organised so it'd be easier to find what I need to take with me."

Well, that certainly struck a nerve. Law eyebrows creased at my words, only confusion can be found on his face.

"Leaving? y/n-ya, what are you talking about? Who said you're leaving?" the walls around my heart are closing up on it again, preventing me from having a calm and productive conversation with him. Maybe if I were able to believe that someone would actually love me for me, I'd have the courage to seek help from him.

"Well... that's what you all wanted, right? I'm just someone that brings nothing to the table. The others are tired of me, and you're disappointed at me. That's why you came here, right?" I couldn't even look him in the eye as I was afraid that all I'll see in his eyes is disgust.

"What the hell? Wha- who told you that? I came here to talk to you about the list of things we need to buy on the next island, which is about two days away. You also weren't there during dinner, so I wanted to come check on you to see if you're feeling unwell. Actually, that's not the point. How long have you been feeling this way? Why didn't you come to me?" Law stood up and slowly made his way towards me, switching into doctor and caring captain mode.

I sighed, looking at anywhere but him. "It's fine, you don't have to pretend that you care. All my life, I've been abandoned and left behind. I can tell when someone's kindness is coming from pity or not. You don't need to look for an excuse to get rid of me, nor do you need to sugarcoat anything, I get it. I never thought I'd have a place where I can call a home anyways..."

Law put his hands on my shoulders as if he's trying to get me to look at him. "y/n-ya, stop. What are you talking about? This is your home, why wouldn't it be? We're not going to abandon you. I'm not going to abandon you. No one is pitying you. In fact, we've all been worried about you, for weeks. You could've at least come to me. Do you not trust me enough?" his question at the end made my heart clench. The one person that I wanted to impress and protect the most, is disappointed at me. At this point, my eyes were stinging from tears threatening to escape. He wanted to convince me that he cares about me, that everyone does. But how can I trust him? My heart does, but all the trauma from the past is preventing me from thinking logically, preventing me from letting him in. Ironic that I can't trust when the person who stole my heart said that he cares about me is the truth. In any dream, I'd die to hear those words. So why can't I find it in me to believe him?

"You know as well as I do that no one will ever truly love me. Just look at this pathetic mess in front of you. Why would someone love... this? Why would you love this?" his grip on my shoulders tightened, but he didn't say anything. Seeing as he wanted me to continue, I did. "At this point, it'd be better if I leave on my own and spare you some trouble. It's be one less mouth for you to feed anyways." I let out a sour chuckle at the end, laughing at how pathetic I sound. One of his hands reached under my chin and lifted my face up, forcing me to look at him. The look in his eyes held no hint of disgust. Instead, all that can be found was rage and hurt.

"Is this seriously what you think of me? You think that I was looking at you as just 'a mouth to feed'? You really see me as someone who'd lie to your face and say that I care about you? You out of all people should know that I despise shit like that. What can I do to make you believe that you deserve to be loved? What can I do to make you believe that you're loved?" the desperation in Law's voice almost made me believe that he's telling the truth. I escaped from his gaze once again, looking down. His eyes softened as he continued,

"What can I do to make you believe that I love you...? Please, tell me."

My eyes widened at his words. The genuineness in his voice created a huge crack on the thick walls around my heart. This is the first time I've ever heard Law beg for something.

Just a little more, and my walls will break down.

"...do you really?" I found the courage to look him in the eyes with my teary ones. Law pulled me into a tight embrace, one arm around my waist while the other one gently caressed my hair. That vulnerable look and weak voice of mine broke his heart into pieces. He tightened his hold on me as he whispered in my ear,

"I do, I truly love you. Those months of playing cat and mouse with you is just me not having the guts to tell you how I really feel. You have no idea how much it hurts me to see the light in your eyes fade away day by day. You distancing yourself from us and not showing up as frequently as before broke my heart. I wanted to give you some space because I thought that eventually, you'd trust me enough to come to me and tell me about your struggles. I want to be there for you. You're not alone in this y/n-ya, you never were. Let me be there for you, let me in, please."

I returned the hug as I relaxed in his embrace, finally accepting that the man in front of me, who I love so much, is being genuine. I sobbed as he continued to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, reassuring me that he's not going anywhere.

"You're staying in my room from now on. And if anything bothers you, you'll tell me about it immediately, okay?" Law pulled away slightly in order for him to look me in the eyes, signalling that he's serious about this. I nodded, unable to find the energy to muster up a response. With that, Law brought me back into his warm embrace, but not before pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead.

And if the past creeps up on me again, I will have no fear this time. With the sound of your heartbeat, this unique and special lullaby just for me, will protect me from all the voices in my head.

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[blondedmuse]

DELIRIOUS

part ii of pure heroin.

finnick odair x reader

synopsis. ꩜ your days seem to blur together but Finnick makes time still—at least for a night.

author's note. ∿ I am so sorry about the delay for this chapter. I have exams in two weeks so I have a bunch of studying to do up till then, so I can't promise the next chapter will be on time either...angst warning but again I think that's warranted for like all chapters

word count. ⨾ 2.5k

"You don't understand, he's anything but a darling, I'm telling you!" You complained to Cinna, standing on one of his podiums as he measured whatever part of your frame he needed to. Cinna was your stylist, and one of the few people you could call a friend. Cinna was assigned to you in your games, who you quickly bonded with. He was kind, understanding, humorous, and above all, a great stylist. He was easy to get along with, generous and genuinely funny. Funny in the way where he made your stomach hurt and your eyes tear up, missing the dry, clammed up humor that every capitol citizen used as conversation filler.

"I mean the rumors about his eyes are true, they're like angels. But his heart-"

"Is cold?"

You furrow your eyebrows. "You've met Finnick?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "No."

"Funny," You replied, your lips pressed into a line.

Truth be told, you didn't have to react the way you did. While your watch held much more sentiment than anyone else but you would ever know, it's not like he stepped on it himself. But that was the effect morphling had on you. It made you ecstatic yet absolutely miserable. The euphoria in your veins was ephemeral, the vile that poisioned you was everlasting. Like any other victor, you needed morphling after a while. The highs were sky-scraping and the lows were hell. And when you ran into Finnick, you just happened to be in the comedown, about to crash.

But before its repercussions could take their effect, you took whatever nose candy you could find in your bag, sedating you into stability—at least for a little bit.

"I'm thinking gold." Cinna suggested, shuffling through the pages of his notebook.

"Didn't we do gold for the last dress?" You asked, your memory hazy.

"Silver," He answered. You opened your mouth about to spit a witty retort but Cinna stopped you before you could get the words out your throat.

"And don't try to tell me they're the same thing," He joked.

You didn't say anything, you only raised your eyebrows, your lips turned upward in a cheeky smile.

"You wound me."

"You love me," You tease.

He laughs. "Don't be so sure. Anyways, come look at this," He invites you over and you stepped down from the podium, walking over to the mannequin where your mock dress laid.

"I was thinking a sheath silhouette with cutouts on either ribs, bejeweled chains covering the missing material while connecting the fabric, as well as a harness and strap for the dress. The sleeves would reach your elbow, draping over your arms with a likeness to a cape."

You sighed. "Anything else?"

He smiled. "It's an open back." And you returned it.

"You do love me."

"Only the best for my favorite victor."

Cinna stayed true to his sentiments. Unlike the other stylists you’ve had, he made sure you looked beyond beautiful, used nothing less than high end textiles, and above all else: he made sure you were comfortable.

While the banquet was two weeks away, you were already apprehensive and beginning your disdain. Your dress, however, was one less thing to worry about.

Time passed strangely when you visited the Capitol. The two weeks you dreaded felt like days as they seemed to blur together. Everyday was the same like routine.

You’d begin each day irritable, your body aching in bed sheets that weren’t yours, left with remnants of the night before. You’d spend a day with your given lover, go out and make appearences, do whatever the wealthy citizens of the Capitol did in their free time. When the sun set into the same crevice it rose from only hours before and the night sky set in, you were free to let loose, have some fun. You lit yourself on fire, the substance that flowed through your body was all the same; only some longer lasting than others. But in the end it was all evanescent.

You’d end up in the bed of your client, lover, whatever name you’d decided to use for the night—and it was fun. You felt good. You could go as far to call it Pure Heroin. But like any other drug it was fleeting and momentary, and when it had run it’s course you were left empty and sustaining withdrawal.

The night of the banquet arrived quicker than planned and unlike the regime you’ve involuntarily created for yourself, you felt as though you were having anything but fun.

You looked like it though. Your look for the night lived up to the expectations of luxury as you plastered a smile on your face. You looked like you were having the night of your life.

Despite the lengthy list of victors and elitists, all eyes were on you once you arrived, and they never really left; briefly catching stolen glances and lingering glares.

Each step of yours left an echo that never went unnoticed as you made your way to your seat, especially by the blonde haired boy you’d ran into weeks before. He watched as your face twisted slightly once you’d noticed your seat was assigned next to his and how your expression immediately changed when someone had started to spark a conversation with you.

He watched and he wondered what was under the surface of the spectacle that was you he observed from a far.

Were you having a bad day when he’d run into you or were you just that ill-mannered, just that presumptuous? And if so? He wanted to see how much—how nasty he could get you, how much he could rile you up in return for last time.

You were talking with another guest when you felt a presence behind you.

“God, sweetheart, that’s an interesting getup.” You turned around, having to abstain from rolling your eyes. Once your gaze met Finnick’s, his lips turned up in a wicked smile you knew meant something more.

His gaze shifted to the person you were talking to. “Doesn’t she look-”

“Irresistible? Indeed she does! I’ve practically had my eyes on her all night.” They beamed, clearly knowing where their passions lie.

Finnick laughed. “Sure. Irresistible.”

He was insincere with his words, you knew that, but the way they sounded when they left his lips left something indescribable in your stomach. You had no time to dwell on it, as seconds later everyone had begun to take their seat, the banquet beginning in its own time.

You sat in yours, placing the until napkin in your lap, and you thought you could prepare for a nice night. As mush as you disliked the Capitol and its extravagance, you couldn't help but entertain it. And you were sure Finnick wouldn't mind ignoring you. You'd think it'd be polite.

A guest across from you whose name you learned to be Aurelia asked you to tell the table a story, because of course, such a fascinating victor such as you would have so many. And right as you were about to speak, you heard it; the smooth and silvery, yet self-righteous voice beside you.

"Actually, I might have something up my sleeve," He interrupted and everyone at the table turned to him. The table was small, no more than eight people, so he could captivate everyone—even you. You noted the smug smirk on his face you wondered was invisible to everyone else. Maybe you were past politeness.

Aurelia urged him to tell his story while her question towards you was left in the dust. And with each question directed towards you, it managed to stay that way. He'd find someway to steal the spotlight and make the show his.

The conversation had drifted in many directions, now ending up in a comparison between a few districts and the Capitol. And eventually, someone at the table found their interest in you again.

"Which do you like better, District one or the Capitol?"

This was a question you knew Finnick couldn't answer because he'd never been. At least you'd assume so. While you wish the question had more substance to it, it gave you a moment to engage with the others at the table if you were going to have to sit here for how much longer.

"I think-"

The sound of a utensil clanging against a wine glass interrupted you like Finnick had been doing all night. You found it amusing how frustrating this night has been and apparently Finnick did too, hearing him chuckle beside you.

You didn't hear it for much longer as the politician who was hosting the banquet—whose name you couldn't even try to remember—had begun a toast. His voice was underwater as you drowned his words out, still smiling as if you resonated with each one.

"And to our lovely victors that could be with us here tonight."

You raised your glass along with the others, clanking them together like second-hand nature. Before you could toss your drink back, letting bubbles of champagne burn your throat, you watched it spill from Finnick's flute on to your dress.

For the first time this night the attention could be yours, yet you were too appalled to say anything, only grabbing your clutch and excusing yourself to the bathroom.

You were glad it was empty, free to clean your dress without forged sympathy. You were able to let your emotions go, unfiltered and unsheltered no longer under the viewing pleasure of others.

You were sure you went through at least a roll of paper towels before you heard the bathroom door open, not daring to look up until you were done wiping your dress for what you hoped would be the last time. Once you did look up however, your frustration turned to indignation as Finnick Odair leaned against the door while his face read with concern.

"What is your problem?"

He smiled. "I thought you left.” And it dropped. “Guess not."

You wanted to scrutinize him, you really did. But you held your tongue, deciding to have some humility.

"What?" He cocked his head to the side. "Is your head hollow?" You admit his words only added insult to injury but they sounded better coming from his mouth. You hated it. So, you turned back to your reflection in the mirror, opening your clutch to dig for something you knew would pacify the animosity.

Finnick stood at the door way, watching, like he did earlier that night. Only now he was confused at your apathy and how you seemed to ignore him so easily. There was something so engrossing about you in the way that you treated him. You weren't friends, but you didn't throw yourself at him, treating him like a piece of meat the way everyone else seemed to do.

Lost in thought he hardly missed the small bag of narcotic you pulled from your clutch that he was all too familiar with. And in that moment, he wanted to make sure the white dust stayed in its bag—at least for tonight.

"You know, I think I owe you an apology." He spoke and you craned your head to face him.

You raised your brows. "You think?"

"I know," He admitted, stepping towards you.

"Who would've thought you knew anything?" You retorted, fully facing him now and you could see his dimples form just like they did the first time you met him. Only this time it wasn't sarcasm, maybe something more genuine.

"Well I know a few things," He replied. "I know I'm definitely sorry for spilling champagne on this beautiful dress."

You crossed your arms, holding back a smile. "You should be. It's still wet."

"Maybe some fresh air would dry it?"

You narrowed your eyes. "What are you suggesting?"

"Come with me," He proposed, holding out his hand. "I know you don't wanna go back in there. Not with your dress still damp."

"Which is your fault, by the way," You reminded him.

"I know and I'm sorry. Again," He apologized once again, still offering his hand out to you.

"Alright let's go," You accepted his offer but not his hand, grabbing your clutch from the counter and walking ahead of him. Finnick followed suit but before he left he grabbed the bag of coke from the counter and pocketed it, making a mental reminder to trash it later.

"Where to?" You asked. The two of you were out of the bathroom now, roaming the halls of some Capitol building.

"You'll see," He replied, wary of his surroundings.

"You're not trying to kill me right?" You joked and Finnick stopped in his steps once he reached a grand staircase.

"Worse," He answered. "I'm trying to help you."

You furrowed your brows as he grabbed the small train of your dress, lifting it so that you could walk up the stairs without tripping over yourself. A staircase and another long hallway later, you found yourself on the top terrace of the building. The view was breathtaking and the tranquility was a stark contrast to the commotion of celebration.

You walked to the edge and leaned on the balcony so much so you almost wanted to fall off. Not so much that it was a liability, but in the way you wanted to fully immerse yourself in the scenery, forget about everything else and focus on the green of the trees or how the streets looked under the moonlight.

"I'm not gonna fall off," You told him before his warning could ever be expressed.

"I- I didn't think you were," He lied. Straight through his teeth.

"You did."

"I did." He laughed. "How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Catch me in a lie so easily. Like it's second nature," He explained taking a spot on the balcony right next to you.

"You said it yourself. We're the same—similar at least. We both have the same reasons to lie. You lied because you want me to think you care.” You said, your eyes unmoving from the landscape infant of you.

"But I also see more than you think I do. I saw how you pocketed my coke before we left the bathroom and threw it out in the second floor hallway." You turned to face him. Now he was just like the rest; bewildered and baffled that you were more than what met the eye.

He bit his tongue and quirked his head, silent for a moment before speaking.

"You caught me." And for the first time that night you smiled because you knew he was being honest. You couldn't care less for his compliments and niceties because you knew they weren't reserved for you. You'd like to think they were, though.

"Can I ask why, though?" His question tip-toped around the fact of the matter, but you knew exactly what he meant.

"It makes it easier," You replied. "Being here."

He didn't tell you but he understood, maybe not all of it, but just enough to not have to ask anymore. So he left you alone and did something he would've found absurd two weeks ago: he enjoyed your company.

MAIN MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

[five-rivers]

The Soul Trade(ing Card Game) Chapter 2

As was dictated to me by the poll, I have delivered.

(AO3)

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“So, uh, Batman,” said Constantine, hating everything about this, “I’ve gotta ask you something.”

“Hn,” said Batman, and Constantine understood he had the man’s whole attention, even though he didn’t look away from the screens arrayed before him.  Monitor duty.  Constantine was glad the Justice League Dark didn’t have to do that.  

(At least, he thought they didn’t.  If anyone had ever told him they did, he had promptly forgotten about it.)

“I need you to look into whoever left me this letter.”  He dropped the letter on the desk next to Batman and flexed his hands.  Yeah, the magic in it was sure something, but it was passive, as far as he could tell, traces picked up from being around something infinitely nastier.  It was safe.  Probably.  It hadn’t blasted any of the people who had handled it between the desk in the Hall of Justice and the Watchtower, anyway.  

Batman glanced up only briefly before taking the letter.  He read it, quickly, without his posture changing at all.  

“Hm,” he said, the tone of the grunt just slightly more contemplative.  “Are the claims in this letter legitimate?”

“Well,” said Constantine, “let’s just say that reading it felt like…”  His face twisted as he tried to find the words to describe what it had felt like.  “Yeah.  Even if this bloke doesn’t have everything he says he does, he has… a lot.  There are traces on the letter, magically speaking.”  

“What’s the effect of that?”

“God if I know,” said Constantine.  “I didn’t even notice this.  At least, he could go ahead and cast whatever spells on me he wants.  Soul’s a lot more intimate.”

With a press of a button, the screens went dark.  “You shouldn’t be up here if you’re compromised.”

“Hey, I didn’t even know about this until ten minutes ago!”

“Return to ground.”  Batman stood and loomed over him.  “I’ll look into who sent this letter and tell you my findings.”

That was probably the best Constantine was going to get.  Honestly, he didn’t even want to be on this glorified deathtrap in the sky.

He didn’t like the feeling of getting kicked out, though.  

“I’m going to need the letter back.  I’ve got my own tests to run on it.  Get an idea of what kind of nasty we’re dealing with.  Magic stuff.”

Batman handed it back.  “I’ll walk you to the Zeta Tubes.”

.

“What do you mean someone bought your soul?” asked Zatanna.  “I thought you’d already sold it ages ago.”

“Yeah, but I guess souls can be resold.  Should’ve realized that demons would try to replicate the whole banking hellscape we have here.”

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind,” said Constantine, letting himself sprawl backwards in the chair.  It leaned dangerously, the weak leg bending.  “I did sell it.  I sold it a bunch.  Got it set up so no one could really claim it without the others freaking out.  Set some time limits on a few earlier ones, that worked pretty well, but, eventually, that didn’t work anymore, no one would bargain for that, and I figured my soul was pretty much a lost cause anyway…”  He tucked his hands in his pockets and fingered the lid of his flask.

“Don’t you dare start drinking while I’m here.”

He hauled himself forward.  “Far as I can tell, what’s written in the letter is true, as far as the owning part goes.  The whole sorry bit and the let’s meet bit, I’m less clear on.”

He did have some thoughts on how to deal with it.  But he wasn’t sure how well it’d work, and the guy - if it even was a guy - was a complete unknown.  

He shrugged.  “I was hoping for a second opinion.”  And maybe a bit of… comfort.  Something.  It felt like the only time he saw Zatanna anymore was if the Justice Morons were poking at stuff no one sane would come close to with a ten foot pole.  

(He missed her.)

(He missed when they used to be an item.)

(Which was stupid of him.  But he’d never claimed not to be.)

(She wanted to keep things professional though, so.  He’d try.)

Zatanna paced around the table.  It was clear except for the letter, Constantine having expended much effort into cleaning it off (dumping it onto the nearest alternate flat-ish surface, the seat of a sagging armchair).

“I don’t know how much more I can tell you.  There’s magic here, but it’s traces, and it’s… muddled.  Do you mind?”

“Go ahead, love.”  So much for being professional.  Sue him.  Some things just slipped out.

Zatanna nodded, evidently not even noticing.  “Laever ruoy sterces,” she said, staring intensely at the letter.  She shook her head.  “Laever sesruc.  No, no curses, at least.  That’s a relief?” 

“Yeah, I guess.  But he doesn’t exactly need to curse me through a letter if he’s got everything he says he’s got.”

“Don’t give up just yet.  Let me try a few other things.  Ezylana eht snigiro fo eht lacigam secart no sight retter.  Wow, huh.”

“What?”

“Well, like I said, there are all sorts of magical traces on this thing.  Demon magic, which is expected, bits of yours, some of the ambient stuff the Watchtower picks up… but there’s also a lot of spirit magic.”

“You think we’re dealing with some kind of shaman?  A summoner?”  In addition to demons and whatever else, that was.  

“Maybe,” said Zatanna.  “There’s death, here, too, but I can’t tell if it’s outright death magic or necromancy.”

Constantine groaned.  “The difference is academic.  I’m screwed.  S’pose I should be grateful or something he didn’t hit me with a compulsion to show up and grovel in front of him, felt the need to give me a heads up before he tortures me for sport or whatever necromancers do for fun.”

Zatanna made a face, but it was very telling that she didn’t deny it was a possibility.  

“Just promise me you won’t go looking for this person on your own.”

“Yeah, I’ve got the Bat on it.  You know him.  Tall scary guy.  World famous detective.  About as boring as he is scary with all his rules.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Zatanna.  “You’re going to need magical backup for this.  Call me.  Or at least someone who knows what they’re doing.”

The opposite of what he wanted to do, really.  People died often enough around him without actively dragging them into his problems, and this was a massive problem.  

“Can’t make any promises.”

.

Because Constantine couldn’t really do anything else about the letter or its contents (besides scream inside his head and swear at himself), he decided to go about business as usual.  Exorcisms, investigations, a touch of vampire stabbing, a few (disappointingly dry) ghost hunts.  Normal stuff.  

At least, it was normal until the demons started to run away from him.  They didn’t usually do that, not even the weak ones.  He did have a reputation, but not one like that.  His reputation was that of a cheat and a con… and someone who got people close to him killed.  None of that really put off bloodthirsty demons, who were a right pain to genuinely kill, and who often as not had some connection to old Lucy.  

But they were running now, and not just the weaker ones.  They weren’t even fighting him.  Not getting hellfire tossed at him was nice, but demons were not nice.  Ever.  

So, what could he do but catch one?

He walked around the circle, double checking to make sure the scuffle with the little imp hadn’t scuffed any lines.  He’d made mistakes like that before, and they were never pretty.  

“So,” he said, lighting a cigarette, “what’s a demon like you running from little old me for?”

The demon, predictably, hissed at him.  Constantine rolled his eyes.  Typical.

“I’m going to ask you again, and if you don’t answer, things are going to get real unpleasant for you.”  He pointed at those circle.  “Read ‘em, if you don’t believe me.”

The demon arched itself like a cat, which was an interesting choice seeing as it wasn’t at all cat shaped.

“You were chasing us, John Constantine,” it said in a deep voice that belayed its size.  

“Yeah, and that’s usually your lot’s cue to turn around and jump me.  What’s different?”

The demon laughed, unpleasant and high-pitched like a teakettle coming to a boil.  “What’s different?  What’s different?  John Constantine, you know what’s different.”

“Humor me here.”

It chuckled and started pacing around the inside of the circle.  “Who owns you, John Constantine?” it asked in a silky voice.  “Where is your soul, John Constantine?  Not with you.  Not with the First of the Fallen.  Not with any of the princes of hell, or any god in its palace.  Who owns you, John Constantine?”

“What, you’re saying that just because Lucy doesn’t have dibs on me when I die anymore, none of you are interested?  Try the other one, it has bells on it.”

“Fool!” shouted the demon, now sounding disturbingly human.  “Fool!  Fool!  A fool you are, but we are not, oh, no.  No, no, no, we are not.  What manner of thing could steal from them?  What manner of thing could satisfy so many demons?  What manner of thing could have such essence that it clings to you even now?  Who owns you, John Constantine?”

Those were some good goddamn questions.  “You’ve got a name for me, or is this you saying you don’t actually know, you’re just so freaked by the idea of it you’re shaking in your boots?  Scales.  Whatever.”

“Do not mock us, John Constantine,” it said, back to sounding properly demonic.  “We are no fool!  We know you will suffer.”

Yeah, well, that was just the natural state of the universe, wasn’t it?  In any case, it didn’t look like this little punk had any idea what it was talking about.  They didn’t tend to be very bright, just smart enough to parrot what they overheard from more powerful demons and dumb enough to give up information when threatened with basic binding spells.  

He banished the imp back to Hell with a twist of his fingers.  

So.  Whoever or whatever had gotten their hands on Constantine’s soul, they were scary enough that demons didn’t want to draw its attention by getting involved with Constantine.  Which was.  Yeah.  Not great.  Story of his life.  

He’d known that they’d have to be nasty, sure.  They’d have to be, to get all of Constantine’s contracts.  Constantine hadn’t sold his soul to just anybody.  Those first three bastards especially had power.  Hell, they’d cured his terminal lung cancer.  Partially to avoid a war but mostly to be petty.   

Admittedly, after that, he hadn’t been quite so discerning.  Or careful about the wording.  But he knew that so long as old Lucy had his eyes on him and a finger on his soul, no one would dare collect.  

A lot of good that did, in the end.

Who would Lucifer trade with?  Why would he give up the right to torture Constantine eternally post-mortem?  

Constantine was getting sick of not knowing.  He was tempted to just go to that meeting spot, but without more information, that would be unforgivably stupid.  Constantine was not stupid.  Usually.  

His Justice League communicator (foisted on him by the Bat) pinged obnoxiously at the bottom of one of his pockets.  He’d forgotten it was in this coat.  He sorted through his pockets crossly as it pinged again.  It had better be important.  He found it under a crumpled bag of crisps and yanked it out with a spray of crumbs.  

“What?” he said, shortly.  

“Constantine,” came Batman’s deep, gravelly rumble.  “I have news.”

Well, crap.  “You gonna share that news this century?”

“It would be better to discuss this in-person.  You do not have a secure computer.”

“Jesus,” said Constantine.  He would have argued, but, technically, Batman was doing him a favor.  “Fine, you paranoid maniac.  Where?”

.

‘Where’ turned out to be a low-risk interrogation room in the Hall of Justice.  Constantine was not a fan of this arrangement, but he understood it.  He was compromised, or whatever, and the interrogation rooms were private and had video screens.  

On the other hand, it was in America, and even Zeta Tubes couldn’t help with jetlag.  And, worse, it was nonsmoking.  

Batman personally escorted him to the room, and turned on the main screen with a remote control.  Pictures of a pale-skinned teen with blue eyes and black hair sprung up.  School pictures, mostly, but some looked like ID pictures, one was on the cover of a magazine, and another looked like an avatar in a video game.  

“Do you recognize this boy?”

“One of your kids?” asked Constantine.

“Answer the question.”

“No, I don’t know him.  Should I?”

“He’s the one who dropped the letter off.”  

“You’re joking.”

In answer, Batman clicked the remote again, bringing up surveillance videos of the Hall of Justice’s main desk taken from various angles.  The clips started off looking normal, the overly clear, expensive footage characteristic of an organization associated with Batman.  

But then, static swam over them.  Not enough to fully obscure the figure walking into the frame, but enough to be obvious.   The boy from the pictures.  He walked to the desk, had a short conversation with the receptionist during which he handed over the letter, and then left, taking the static with him.  

“Well, hell,” said Constantine.  It had been a while since he’d seen a demon take a form like that, but he supposed this one must have learned that he had a soft spot for kids.  Or maybe this was a kid.  A demon kid.  He’d thought he’d taken care of all of his, but wouldn’t have been the first time he’d screwed up, and this whole situation was a collection of screw ups.  

“Do you know what could cause the static?”

“Whole range of spells, but I’m gonna bet you already knew that from Zatanna.”

“Hm,” said Batman.  “The name of the boy is Daniel Fenton.  He is fifteen years old, and his major claim to fame is discovering that a purple-backed gorilla on loan to his local zoo was female.  He also makes an occasional appearance on the leaderboards of the video game ‘Doomed,’ where he is a well known player.”

“A demon playing video games.  Now I’ve seen it all.”  It wasn’t so much that demons couldn’t have hobbies, he just didn’t care to learn them, if they weren’t relevant to beating the crap out of them or tricking them into taking a holy water shower.  Then again, there was an outside possibility that ‘Daniel’ wasn’t a demon.  “Any of this have a point?”

“Establishing facts,” said Batman.  “It is possible that you had encountered him via the internet.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who plays video games?”

Batman clicked the remote again, a map appearing on the screen, a blinking dot appearing in the middle of nowhere, US.  “Daniel lives with his older sister, Jasmine, and their parents Drs. Jack and Madeline Fenton in Amity Park.”

“Amity Park?” repeated Constantine.

“Is it familiar to you?”

“I think I looked into it once.  Supposed to be haunted.  Veil there is maybe a little thin, but nothing on the Tower of London, or, hell, the British Museum.  You wouldn’t believe what all those stolen grave goods can get up to together.  Your permanently overcast city is more haunted.  It’s a dead end.”

“Maybe not.  The Drs. Fenton are friends with the billionaire Vladimir Masters, but primarily derive their income from their patented inventions, which include customized ‘branding’ toasters, high-efficiency toilet paper, ultra-lightweight camping gear, various treatments for radiation poisoning, and several items that have been marked classified by the Department of Homeland Security and the Department of Energy, for their use of dangerous energy sources.”

Constantine’s eyebrows went up.  Mad scientists mucking about with radiation were generally not in his wheelhouse.  Or even riding the same tracks, for that matter.  “You think they went poking around in the occult for their ‘dangerous energy sources?’”  

“Possibly,” said Batman.  “In addition to their inventions, they are moderately well-known in ghost hunting communities, which explains their presence in the reportedly-haunted Amity Park.  However, everything they’ve written on the subject indicates that they believe ghosts have a strictly scientific explanation.  They also,” continued Batman, the corners of his mouth pulling into a slightly deeper frown, “believe that ghosts are nonsentient and nonsapient.”

“So, they have no idea what they’re talking about.  Just some big brains that got sucked in by the kind of fraudsters who started the seance craze.  Great.  I’m sure Deadman’d love to have word with them.  If they could even see him.”  He rubbed his chin.  “But the must’ve run into something real if their kid’s doing all this.  Or if what looks like their kid’s doing all this.”

“You don’t believe Daniel Fenton is the one in the video?”

“Lemme put it this way.  Odds of a random kid pulling one over on the demons I sold my soul to are about the same as you developing a sense of humor.  Best case scenario, he’s just possessed, or he’s some kind of freak like Klarion.”  

Batman grunted in acknowledgement.  “Approximately six months ago, Jack Fenton purchased an ‘authentic demon soul contract’ from Ebay.”

Constantine opened and closed his mouth several times.  “You’re joking.”

“As you are aware, I have no sense of humor.”

“Jesus Christ.  Ebay?”

“The seller was a man named Eric Chambers.  Zatanna investigated him earlier this week.  He is, apparently, an amateur demonologist who wanted to ‘get out of the game’ and was in the process of selling off all his magical paraphernalia.  He had sold several additional versions of your soul contract to another buyer in Amity Park.  A known associate of Daniel Fenton named Samantha Manson.  Are any of these names familiar to you?”

“Not exactly,” said Constantine.  “But… Ebay?”  He’d never thought his soul was anything special, but at least he’d thought it was worth enough to not be resold on Ebay.  “And how did this Chambers bloke get them?”

“Apparently, the demons he’d summoned no longer wanted them, and he was under the impression that he could ‘put you under his thrall’ if he collected enough of them.”

So the guy who had his soul wasn’t even the first one to have the idea.  Brilliant.  

“And that’s it?”

“I could tell you Daniel Fenton’s grades and internet habits,” said Batman.  “As well as those of his close friends and associates.  Apart from his parents and his recent involvement with you, he is ordinary.”

“The thing with the gorilla is ordinary, then?”

“Most people have at least one outlier event in their lives.  It would be of greater concern if he did not.”  He paused, staring long and hard at Constantine.  “What are your initial thoughts?”

“That I’m about to get screwed up the–”

“Regarding how Daniel Fenton got involved in this.”

“Like I said, it’s probably not Daniel Fenton.  I’d guess…  If I had to guess, I’d say that after Fenton’s dad got hold of that contract, he went and played around with it.  Something like a genuine contract can be used to do a lot.  It has the magical signatures of both the original demon and whatever sorry bastard signed it.  If you’ve got that, you can ring up the demon.”  He raised his hands, miming a scale.  “Demon, inexperienced idiot teenager…”  He tilted to one side.  “You get the picture.”

And, yeah, wasn’t it great that he could cause people to die just by leaving his junk everywhere?  He hadn’t learned anything from the dream sand.  

“You believe Daniel Fenton summoned a demon that possessed him, which then proceeded to collect your soul contracts?”

“Yeah.  Can you pull up a pic of the contract Jack Fenton bought?”

Batman briefly examined the remote, then flicked quickly through several slides, stopping, finally, on a very classic demonic soul contract.  Constantine had signed several like that, so he had to squint at it and read through it line by line.  It wasn’t like he memorized the handwriting of every demon he’d ever made a contract with.  In fact, he’d memorized the handwriting of exactly zero demons.  They didn’t precisely write a lot, and you either got illegible chicken scratch or equally illegible ornate gothic script.  

He got to the name and swore.  “That guy doesn’t have the power to go up against the First of the Fallen.”  He rubbed his chin vigorously.

“It’s possible that Chambers sent a different contract to the Fentons,” said Batman, “or Daniel was… infected after receiving the other contracts.”  More pictures popped up on the screens.  “However, there is a problem with this theory.”

“Yeah?” asked Constantine, already scanning the contracts.  The Bat didn’t like Constantine’s ideas.  What else was new?  

“Daniel’s behavior has had no significant changes in that six month time frame.  But if we go back by just over a year, to when he was entering high school, his grades took a steep dive and several disciplinary actions were noted on his record.  His close friends’ grades took similar, but smaller, hits at the same time.”

“You think he could have been possessed earlier.”

“I believe that something happened to him at that time.  I am unconvinced it was possession.”

Constantine shook his head.  “None of these guys are strong enough to begin with.  Maybe if they were working together…  Nah.  None of them could work together.  That’s why I picked them.”  He rubbed his eyes.  “Then again, I thought no one could get all my soul contracts, so who knows?”

“Are you sure possession is the only solution?”

“God, no.  Hell, we could be dealing with a cabal of homo magi, or someone back from the grave who seriously hates me, that’d explain the death magic on the letter, at least, or maybe there’s a god hanging around getting their kicks poking at me.  It’s just a giant blank.  I’ve never heard of this kid.  I’ve never heard of his family.  I’ve barely heard of Vlad Masters.  I’ve got nothing.”

“Hm,” said Batman.  “What are you planning to do?”

“I’m guessing ignoring it forever isn’t something you’d let me do?”

“No.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to go investigate, then.”

“In that case,” said Batman, pulling a fat folder of papers out of his cape somehow, “you will need to know more about Daniel Fenton, his associates, and Amity Park.”  He dropped the folder on the table with an audible thump.

“Great,” said Constantine.  “Just what I wanted.  Homework.”

.

Constantine and Zatanna zeta’d to the nearest tube near Amity Park.  Batman had arranged an ‘untraceable’ rental car for them, paranoid bastard.  Demons didn’t usually have the skillset required to trace license plates.  

Then again, there might be more than demons involved.  Even if necromancers generally had no skillset outside of necromancy.  

There could be shamans, though!  They were well known for their technological acumen!  

Yeah, right.  It was possible, but not bloody likely.  

“I could teleport, you know,” he told Zatanna.  “We could both teleport.”

“Into the home turf of an unknown magic user?”

Constantine rolled his eyes and knocked his head against the car window.  “I’m surprised the ol’ Bat isn’t coming with us.”

“You know he is,” said Zatanna.  “I’d give even odds that he’s already there, if I had any desire to gamble with you.”

“Hey!  I could be good for it.  I have steady work now!”

Zatanna shook her head.  Constantine huffed.  

“I’m going to take a nap.  Might be my last one, after all.”

“John,” said Zatanna, “you’re not going to die.  Don’t you think this is a little… excessive, considering all the stuff you’ve gotten out of before?”

“No one’s owned my whole soul before.  Now, I really am going to go to sleep.  Wake me up when we get there.”

.

Death.  

That’s what pulled Constantine out of his dreams and into a nightmare, and from there into wakefulness.  The feeling did not dissipate.  Instead, it grew stronger.  

He looked over at Zatanna, who was still driving.  Her knuckles were white, her shoulders stiff.  

“What the hell,” croaked Constantine.  

“It’s been building as we get closer to Amity Park,” said Zatanna.  “It doesn’t feel… actively malicious…  More like a massive haunting.  It’s been building slowly.”

Constantine swallowed and tried to rub sand out of his eyes.  “That’s– Where are we?”

“About ten minutes out of Amity Park.”

“No.  I’ve been to Amity Park.  It doesn’t feel anything like this.  It’s boring.”

“Well,” said Zatanna, strained, “something’s changed.  At least we know where the letter picked up all that death magic.”

Constantine breathed in deeply through his nose.  “Yeah, there’s enough of it here for me to feel it, God.”  It was making his skin prickle.  He shook himself all over.  “Might as well stay awake now.  Do you mind if I set my wards?”

“Knock yourself out.”

.

Constantine walked into the diner and looked around.  It was very American.  Retro.  Quiet.  Not entirely clean, but Constantine had been in way worse.  The air smelled strongly of cinnamon, coffee, and hot chocolate.  Not the kind of place he generally bartered for his soul, or away his soul, as the case might be.

An aggressive ‘No Smoking’ sign was positioned prominently next to the cheery ‘seat yourself’ sign.  Constantine scowled at it.  Sometimes it felt like there was nowhere to smoke anymore in the whole world.  

Daniel Fenton, easily recognizable from a legion of school photos and a junior astronaut camp photo ID, was sitting alone at a booth, a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream in front of him.  He swung his legs back and forth and scribbled in a notebook.  A few tables away, not nearly as sneaky as they clear-ly thought they were being, were his friends Manson and Foley.

Zatanna had entered the diner before him, of course, and Batman was most likely… somewhere.  God only knew where.  Constantine knew people who could turn invisible and shapeshift that weren’t as good at it as Batman.  

Before coming in, Constantine had finished setting his wards.  His pockets were full of all sorts of tests, charms, and apotropaics.  As he stuck his hands into them, a spray bottle fit easily into his hand.  

Walking to the table felt like walking to his execution.  He made the comparison with confidence, because he had the relevant experience.   When he stopped next to the table, Fenton looked up.  His expression was confused at first, but in less than a second he lit up, clearly delighted.  

Constantine also had relevant experience in spritzing demons with holy water.

Fenton flinched, but he didn’t start howling or melting.  More’s the pity.  

“Did you just spray me with holy water?” asked Fenton, blinking up at him with a realistic expression of befuddlement.  

“Guy’s gotta know what he’s dealing with,” said Constantine.  

“Well, I’m not a demon.”  A slight furrow worked its way between his eyes.  “Or a devil.”

“What are you, then?” asked Constantine.

Fenton shrugged.  “I don’t know.  An amateur demonologist?  I don’t have any training in this kind of stuff, which is probably why all this happened.”  He reached to the side and grabbed his hot chocolate.  “Oh.  You got my whipped cream with your water…”

“You don’t have any training?”

“Not in this,” stressed Fenton.  “I go to school and stuff.”

And astronaut camp, assuming this really was Daniel Fenton and not something possessing or impersonating him.  

“Anyway, are you going to sit down, or…?”  Fenton looked him up and down.  

Constantine scowled and slid into the booth.  Then he threw some salt (purified) at Fenton.  

“Hey,” complained Fenton, “you’re going to ruin my hot chocolate, jeez.”  He picked up the mug, pulling it towards himself.  

Constantine took the opportunity to grab his notebook off the table and flip through it.  

“Maths?” blurted Constantine.  

Fenton set the mug back on the table and leaned over to snatch the notebook back.  “Like I said, I do have school.  That’s why I can only hang out here on Saturdays.  You did miss the last few meeting times.”  He huffed.  “I know this isn’t ideal, but can we work together here?  I don’t actually want to own your soul.”

“Oh, yeah, amazing way of showing it, mate.  I know who and what I sold my soul to, and I don’t believe you bartered with them without any training.”  Or that he was human, but as long as he was invested in the facade, he probably wouldn’t eat Constantine’s face off.

“I didn’t say I didn’t have any training.  Just no training in this.  I don’t know exactly what you can do beyond make bad demon-related decisions, but you had weeks to do research.  You’ve got to know about the ghosts.”

“Might.  What about them?”

“My parents research them.  Fight them, sometimes.  It’s a whole thing.  Demons weren’t any harder to deal with.”

“I sold my soul to archdemons.”

“Yeah, they kind of sucked, to be honest.”  Fenton bit his lower lip.  “Look, I know you don’t trust me.  I wouldn’t trust me, but what I did to get your contracts wasn’t anything anyone couldn’t do.  Most of them didn’t even want them anymore.  The first batch I bought off of a random dude on Ebay.  One of them paid me to take the contract, because they hated the doll you wrote it on so much.  A lot of the others just wanted me to give you problems, which I think I’ve succeeded at, actually.”

Constantine had forgotten about the doll, actually.  “And the archdemons?  I know for a fact they’ve been looking forward to torturing me forever, so I doubt they’d just hand the contracts over in exchange for ‘giving me problems.’”

“Oh, yeah.  For those guys, I just robbed them.  There were also a few people I just beat up.”

“Demons aren’t people, they’re demons.”

“Sure they’re people.  They’re just evil people.  But they used to be angels or something, right?”

“... No,” said Constantine.  

“Okay, well.”  Fenton shrugged again.  “They still are thinking beings, right?  So, they’re people.”

Constantine honestly didn’t know where to go from that.  

"Fine," he said instead.  "You aren't going to tell me how you got the contracts or what you are.  Is it too much to hope you'll deign to tell me why you did this?"

"I'm a teenager, why do we do anything?"  Fenton sipped at his hot chocolate.  "Mostly, I thought it'd be funny."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought it would be funny.  I mean, Dad bought the first one, because he thought it'd help with his ghost research, but it didn't, so he let me have it.  I asked Johnny about it, and he told me about your contracts, so I–"

"Who's Johnny?" interrupted Constantine.  "Some demon friend of yours?"

He did have a strategy, here, sort of.  Most ultra powerful magical beings had a limit to how much annoyance or disrespect they'd tolerate, even when disguising themselves.  Constantine had a knack for finding those limits.  

Also, just possibly, the hapless teenager act was throwing him off.  It was remarkably believable.  

"No, he's dead, to begin with, not–"

"Oh, so, you took advice on dealing with demons from someone who turned up dead right after telling you about me.  That sounds brilliant." 

"He's a ghost.  He's been dead since at least the nineties, and I doubt you had anything to do with it.  Johnny died in the eighties.  I think.”

“A ghost told you about me?”

“Yeah.  I don’t know what wizards or magicians like you can do or sense, but if you looked up anything about Amity Park at all, you should have seen there are a lot of ghosts here.  It’s not just tourist trap stuff.  That’s… actually one of the other things I wanted to talk to you about, if I managed to get enough of your contracts to get you to come.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, not all ghosts are nice.  I meant it when I said your demons sucked.  That’s compared to the ghosts.  And sometimes to the people who come to hunt the ghosts.”  Fenton drummed his fingers on the table, nervous.  “It’s a toss up which group causes more damage.  The Guys in White are especially awful.  It would be nice if the Justice League took a look into them?”  His voice took on a hopeful lilt.  

“You bought my soul to tip off the League about…  Guys in White.”

“They’re with the government.  Presumably.  No one knows what they’re really called.  And they chase people around screaming about lots and lots of painful experiments.  Direct quotes.”

“You know the League has a tip line.”

“Tried it.”  Fenton took a huge gulp of hot chocolate.

“I don’t believe you,”

“If you hang out here for very long, you and your friends will be able to see the ghosts for yourself.”

Constantine could already feel the ghosts.  Or at least the pervasive, overwhelming sense of death permeating this city.  He didn’t doubt that something requiring Justice League Dark attention was going on here.  Beyond just whatever was going on with Fenton himself.  

But his attention was taken by two other points.  

One, what he didn’t believe was that Fenton did all this for only some combination of kicks and giggles and wanting Justice League attention.  Contacts with ghosts or not, burglarizing archdemons wasn’t something anyone sane blew off as nothing.

Two, Fenton had said friends.  He’d understand if he’d made Zatanna, but the plural implied that he’d spotted Batman, too.  

He didn’t let himself react.  “No one rips off archdemons to call in a tip.  Or just for fun.”

Fenton looked guilty, a blush creeping across his cheeks.  “I didn’t want to bring it up, it didn’t seem appropriate anymore.  And the other thing isn’t… relevant.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what’s relevant?” asked Constantine, despite how all his senses were screaming wrong wrong wrong at him.   “This is my soul we’re talking about, after all.”

“I know, I know,” said Fenton.  “But you didn’t exactly…”  He trailed off.  “The other thing was that some of my friends thought you need an intervention.  We also wanted to see your face when we… intervened.  Yeah, we thought it’d look kind of like that.”  Fenton pointed at him.

Constantine slapped away the hand.  He was almost convinced Fenton was… Well.  Not normal, but maybe not homicidal, or particularly interested in enslaving Constantine or torturing him for all time.  A step up from some of the other things he’d sold his soul to in the past.  Possibly.  

(The whole ‘teenager’ thing was definitely an entry in the negative column, though.  As well as the whole humiliation and mockery angle.)

“What else?” he demanded.  

Fenton’s face twisted with embarrassment and jealousy.  “You get to go up to the Watchtower, don’t you?” he asked.  “You get to go to space.”

“So?”

“So, I want to go to space.  I was, um.  I was going to… ask you to take me up there.  Just to look.”

Infiltrating the Watchtower was a much more obvious motive, but… Constantine remembered the space camp ID.  

“I mean, I’m never going to get up there with my grades.  Fighting demons for it seemed… feasible.”  He shrugged, then started to slump.  “I was going to give them back, you know.  Your contracts.  I didn’t want to keep them.  Or your soul.”  He pushed himself up.  “Anyway.  None of that matters, now.  We've got a problem to solve.”

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, as I explained in my letter, the contracts sort of… exploded."

"No, back up, what do you mean it doesn't matter?"

"Well, if this doesn't make you stop selling your soul, I don’t know what will, the Justice League knows about Amity now, I'm not going to make you take me to the Watchtower when I can't trade your soul back to you, and the funny boat sailed at about the same time my friend told me this might be permanent."

"Is this friend also dead?" drawled Constantine. 

"No, he's more in the never alive category."

Which possibly explained some of the spirit magic Zatanna detected on the letter. 

"He thinks it's because some of your contracts said after death instead of when you're dead, so, because there weren't any competing claims, they all came due at once.  Since there were so many of them…"

"Repetition makes magic stronger, yeah, yeah," said Constantine.  "I read the letter."

"I was hoping you'd have some solutions.  No offense, but I don't want to own you.  You're, like, an entire person."

Constantine wouldn't have been offended if Fenton hadn't prefixed his statement with no offense.  

“You should have thought about that before buying up my soul.”

“I was going to give it back.  No strings.”

“Except for a trip to the Watchtower.”

“If you really didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have made you,” said Fenton.  

Somehow, Constantine believed him.  Which was crazy.  He’d have to check in with Zatanna to make sure he wasn’t being enchanted somehow.  Charm person should not be a real thing magicians could do, and yet…

“Look, do you want me to swear it on the Styx or is there something else I can do to convince you I’m telling the truth?” asked Fenton.  “The ghosts seem to like the Styx, anyway.”  He sighed.  “Tell me you have something that can fix this.  I don’t know what kind of side effects there are for owning a person’s soul.  It’s not like this happens all the time.”

Hell if Constantine knew.  The only way he knew to get out of contracts like this was loopholes exploited before they were collected on.  “I’m… going to have to do some research.”

“Well,” said Fenton, “let me give you my phone number.”  He slid a piece of paper across the table.  “You can call me if you figure anything out.  In the meantime, if you’re staying in town long, you should look into the ghost thing.  Talk to my parents, even.  Maybe don’t mention all this, though.”

“Why not?”

“I love my parents, but they must have skipped out on the day they teach scientists that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.  Anyway, I’ve got to go.”  He started to shove things into a purple backpack he’d pulled into his lap from under the table.  

“What?  Why?”  As far as Constantine was concerned, they’d only just started to scratch the surface of the problem.  

“Me and my friends have tickets to a movie.”  He hooked his thumb over his shoulder at Manson and Foley, who, apparently, were not trying to blend in or be subtle.  “You did miss the first few meeting times.”

.

“Your impression?” asked Zatanna, later, sliding into the booth after Fenton and his friends were thoroughly gone.  

“He’s… surprisingly believable.  Claims he ‘doesn’t have any training’ in magic, though, which sounds like crap, unless his parents are much more legit than what they look like on paper.”

Zatanna crossed her arms and drummed her fingers on her elbow.  “He wasn’t lying.  Not that any of my spells could detect.”

Constantine huffed.  “That doesn’t seem possible.”

“He doesn’t seem like he could take on archdemons, but with help from ghosts or spirits?  We don’t know who’s backing him.”

“God,” said Constantine, “that’s not something I was thinking of.”

“Because you were fixated on the demon theory.”

“But if he’s being backed by someone powerful, why wouldn’t they buy up my contracts themself?  That doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not saying that his… patron, for lack of a better word, put him up to it.  Just that he might be getting extra support.”

A waitress came up to them, smiling cheerily.  “Hello, there, sorry for the delay.  Have you decided what you’re getting?”

“The hot chocolate looked good,” said Zatanna.  

“Knock yourself out,” said Constantine, standing.  “I’m going to see what Fenton’s parents are like.”

.

“John Constantine?” repeated Jack Fenton, inquisitively.  “Ha!  That’s the same name that was on that fake demon contract thing I got on Ebay!  What a wild coincidence, huh?”

.

“You could have mentioned the portal to the astral plane in your basement,” hissed Constantine into the phone.  A tiny voice in the back of his head warned him that he shouldn’t take that tone with someone who owned him, but he ignored it handily.  

“Would you have believed me if I told you?” asked Fenton, genuinely curious.  

Constantine wouldn’t have, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Also, what did you call it?  I’ve never heard anyone call it that.”

.

Batman’s deep voice rumbled through the communicator.  “What did you learn?” 

“I learned this place is a nightmare and a half.  There’s a portal to the astral plane in that kid’s basement, did you know?”

“I ran into a ghost while Constantine was talking to the Fentons,” said Zatanna, leaning sideways while keeping her eyes on the road.  “It was much more powerful than any other ghost I’ve ever seen.”

“That is not good news considering what I have learned about the so-called Guys in White.”

.

“Have you found anything?” asked Fenton.  Wherever he was, his reception was crap.  His voice crackled with enough static that he might as well be calling from the early nineteen-twenties.    

“No,” said Constantine.  It had gotten him excused from the Justice Club meetings, which meant that the failure was almost worth the headache the idea of his soul being owned by a teenager caused him.  

“I didn’t find anything either.”

“Then why did you call?”

“Uh,” said Fenton.  “I’m really grateful you guys got the GIW out of Amity, you know that, right?  And that you guys put someone on watch here for bigger threats?”

“Yeah,” said Constantine, slowly.  “Sure.”  It had been mostly Batman managing that side of things, as Constantine was banned from decisions regarding Amity Park, but if Fenton was going to give Constantine credit, who was he to deny it?

“So, um.  That was really great of you.”

Constantine was not liking where this was going.  But, apparently, this was his life, now.  Getting tips and awkwardly phrased requests from… God.  The creepy necromancer brat was sort of his warlock patron.  

… Curse his knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons.  It was definitely a detriment to his profession as a real mage, and everything he learned about it was against his will and usually the Flash’s fault.  

“What is it, Fenton?”

“Have you ever heard of the Showenhowers?” 

[shy-mama]

The Dream

There once was a girl who grew up with a family of immigrants, the youngest out of the bunch with memories of blue and confusion. Since young shed looked up at the sky and make wishes, having complete blind fate it would happen. The young girl was beaten by life backstab after backstab, her audacious smile was gone. Turned into a edgy pre teen who was just trying to take it day by day. The dreams were still there but wrong encounters with the wrong people cut the strings of the balloons and made them float into space. Then there was nothing, nothing but love, so she clung onto the little she could conjure up, and there was so very little so she turned desperate. Drugs and visions, visions and drugs. visions inside and out. The love that she had summoned started to consume her until she couldn’t even tell who she was or what, or why. Then after several dark nights of the soul. She sat up. she remembered the wishes she made to the sky. In fact she didn’t just remember, she had always remembered, this time she FELT those wishes once again. She was going to do what she wanted to do because what the hell with it. What she desired was what will make her happy and thats all that mattered to her at that point. She wrote down a list with the cadence of a kindergartner. Become model aka prettiest girl in the world, get cute and popular boyfriend, travel. And for the first time in a long time all of these seemed possible. She just had to get the ball rolling. That day she had completely gained trust in herself. She started with the weight loss she did a juice cleanse which jumpstarted her weight loss. Then got a juicer and would mostly drink juices. Then she applied for about 10 modeling agencies and was accepted to the one she was most hoping for. She knew she would get in since this is what she had been destined to do since she was 3. Thankfully she had the right encounters with the right people and quickly moved up in the modeling world. Her skills and looks were also a testament to that. She was traveling the country and world doing photoshoots and runways and drinking hot chocolate in a cafe with Bella Hadid. First part of her list complete. She had a fashion award ceremony to attend to in Seoul, south Korea. She had been informed from her agent that she would be winning a big award. After she had received her award. Thats when she met the 2nd part of her list. Boy A, he approached her and was visibly in awe of her. The two love birds hit it off immediacy and started dating. Things were moving fast between them, they said its because they feel like they knew each other in several past lives. After a few months they had been caught on one of their outings together. The photos were posted all over and boy A’s fans were outraged, some were sad, and some were happy for him. The blogs were all talking about boy A’s mystery girl lover. She was thriving with this, reading all the jealous and shocked comments had her vibrating she had craved this. It was one of the reasons she wanted a popular and cute boyfriend anyway. Oh and for item 3 on the list that was already accomplished. Because of work she had to travel frequently, she had also gone on friend trips and lover trips as well. 

So the sum of the story is just sit up, you don't have to stand up just start somewhere. Make a list of what you want and I mean truly want. If thats hard for you to find out try to pretend a genie came and gave you three wishes. Then break down those wishes and how to practically get there. honestly along as you start on wish 1 the other wishes will come rolling easily to you, why? Because the universe loves when we have desire. Because love and desire is the creators one true will. And also drill into your head that its impossible to fail. Because the universe has a billion safety nets on every side of you. And if you are like me and really hate this universe talk just remember the universe is closer then you think. Ps the universe is you!, yes when all those manifesters on YouTube are talking about trust in the universe they mean trust in yourself. I don't want to get into the whole quantum physics, astronomy, and spirituality logic of it but I had a hard time trusting the uni. Primarily because it was a source outside myself. Then I learned that universe is literally inside everyone and myself and things got some much easily to understand.I know that at the end of the day if no ones got me I got me. Ive only been alive for 22 years but I, myself, has brought me, myself, out of some much chaos and darkness. So I really have no other choice but to believe in myself and make shit happen.

[snortoborto]

little one shot about The Bffs Of All Time (PB & Johnny) smonkin weed for the first time for the last day of Outsiders Week! Idk just thought it was fun. Docs formatted it kinda weird, but yk:

(Link to my AO3 at the end in case anyone wants to read my other thing lol)

It sort of stung on the way down, like a cigarette almost, only it ached a little more. Cigarettes are sharp. Crisp. They sting a little, but the smoke rolls easy on the way out. This was different. Especially the way it made me feel. I knew Darry would tear me a new one if he ever found out...but I didn't think he would, although, if we weren't careful the smell would give us away. 

Two-Bit made real sure to warn us about that. "Hell, you could always tell him the two of y'all been poundin' the pavement with a pack of wild skunks, but that'll only fly for so long!" I could tell he was trying to hold back a spirited howl. He's always playing to an audience of one, even when he's got company, but the last thing we needed was to draw attention to ourselves and he knew it. "Hell! The thing is," he muffled another cackle in the crook of his elbow, "after a while, he'll probably expect yall to start bringing these guys around! That's when you know the jig is up!" 

I caught a whiff of the cigarette he had pinched between his teeth and it made me think he'd been hanging around with the very same pack of skunks, himself. Maybe that's where he'd gotten his stash. 

It wouldn't be a huge stretch of the imagination, Two-Bit pals around with some real wild characters. Guess it comes along with knowing just about every guy in town. Being on their good side is a different story, though. You gotta be on a guy's good side for him to risk his skin selling you grass. 

At first I didn't feel all that much. Nothing really, to tell you the truth. People talk about grass like it's magic. A heaven sent gift from God and a bunch of hippie shit like that. For a second I got a little kick out of the let down. I could say I tried it and it wasn't all that great. All those flower children were just up on their soap boxes, wanting to feel like they had something special. It wasn't until I felt a grin creep across my face at the thought that I realized it was working. 

"Whatchu smilin' at over there Pone?" I didn't hear Johnny at first, his smooth voice disappearing into the fog that'd settled over my mind, but a quick jab to the shoulder brought me back down to the cool dirt and sparse weeds littered across the empty lot where we'd hunkered down. "Hey, c'mon! Don't space out on me now man!" 

"Oh uh..."

"Pass it, man."

I snatched the smoke from my lips, holding it up to Johnny's outstretched hand. He had this real goofy grin that I hardly ever saw on him and even in the dark, I could tell his eyes were just a little brighter than usual. It wasn't until we both started giggling like little girls that I realized I was wearing the exact same smile. 

"Works, don't it?" Johnny choked back a cough and another puff of smoke floated off into the night. It was cold out, cold enough to see your breath, which made our long drags all the more impressive. Johnny passed it back and this time I was quick on the uptake. 

"Yeah man...makes...makes me feel like a dragon or something." I blew a puff of smoke Johnny's way. He sorta scoffed, still grinning, to be sure. "You know, breathing smoke and all?" 

"Ponyboy, you already breathe more smoke than ya' do air! You've always been a damn dragon!" 

I pulled out our match book and struck one, waving it around in front of us until the flame went out. "Well it ain't official till' I start spitting fire!" Usually Johnny would've scolded me for wasting matches, and normally, I wouldn't've, but we both got a little kick out of it just that once. 

"Hell...now that ya' mention it..." Johnny turned his gaze up towards the night sky, "I feel like I might just fly away if I smoke enough of this shit." He thought real hard for a second, or at least, he looked like he was. 

Johnny's got this real particular look when he's thinking on something. Distinct, I guess, from the way his face usually looks. He scrunches his nose up a little, just enough for a couple wrinkles, and puts on this sorta pout in between spells of biting at his lips. He just looks scrunched up, but not in a bad way. "I don't think I'd wanna be a dragon, though." That broke us out into another spell of giggling. I could tell neither of us wanted to laugh too hard. Same as Two-Bit, who'd taken off just as soon as handing over the grass, we didn't wanna draw too much attention to ourselves, despite how late it was. Really, because of it. 

After a little while, I couldn't tell you exactly how long, I settled down enough to take another drag. The grass sort of made time pass funny. I couldn't really get a grip on how long we'd been out there. Not like I'm all that great at sticking to a schedule anyway. To be honest, I couldn't tell if the grass was really slowing down time, or if it just made me stop caring about the idea all together. 

Mostly I was still entertaining myself with the idea of the two of us, me and Johnny, taking off and flying around for a while. Maybe forever… we'd never come back down. 

"Shit Johnny Cake, if you ain't gonna be a dragon, then what the hell would you be? A pigeon?" I knew we were just chewing the fat, but I really did wanna know. Besides, the idea was still giving us a good laugh.  

"Nah man!" Johnny choked on his drag. "No one wants to be a damn pigeon! I'd be something tuff, you know? Like a hawk or an eagle...I kinda like those little black birds. Ya' know? The ones with the red stripe on the wing..." he waited for a nod so he could tell I was listening. My mind tends to wander off sometimes, even when people are talking right to me. Johnny knew that better than anyone, but I was listening that time. "I don't know, maybe an owl. Anything that can fly..." 

Something about the way he said it made my heart sink, despite my buzz. I tried to disguise the sudden burble of sadness in my voice. I didn't want it rubbing off on Johnny. I never want it rubbing off on anyone, really, but I know it does. It's hard to hide sometimes. "I don't know about bein’ a bird, but it ain't too late to take up pilot training." I smiled over at Johnny, but it wasn't a big, goofy grin like before. Just a quick twitch at the corner of my mouth. More of a consolation than anything. 

Johnny was thinking again, this time poking around in the dirt and picking at stray blades of grass. "We might wanna actually ride in a plane first, I guess." I tried to salvage the mood, but I had to fight back a twinge of guilt for having spoiled it in the first place. 

"I wouldn't even know where to go." His head tilted back up towards the stars. By then our smoke was a little over halfway ashed and I thought about putting it out to save for later, but all of a sudden a seemingly prolific vision of Darry finding it, or smelling it, rather, in my normal pack flashed across my mind and gave me the motivation I needed to keep on smoking it down to the butt. 

By then I was feeling real lightheaded and my eyelids were getting sort of heavy. Different from when you're real tired, but still just... heavy. I would've given anything for an ice cold coke.   

"I'm not too convinced there'd be much out there for me anyway, Pone." I tried to think of something to say that wouldn't sound corny, and I found myself wishing Two-Bit wouldn't've taken off so soon. He always seems to stick around for longer than he’s welcome, except for when you actually need him. Still, he can get a grin out of anyone. A real one, too. 

"How 'bout Hollywood? Y'know?" Smoke pooled out from my nostrils, lingering in the air for a split second as I tried to ignore the burning in my throat. "Be in the movies?" I delt Johnny a playful jab to the shoulder. He rolled his eyes and reached for the cigarette, but I caught a distinct smirk sprawled out across his face. 

"You know I ain't handsome like you, Ponyboy. That's how they like 'em out there." 

"Aw hell! That ain't true!" Out of the corner of my eye I caught Johnny bringing a hand up to his cheek, gingerly tracing the scar that we both knew he'd carry with him for the rest of his life, but I pretended not to notice. I knew he hated it. Hated the idea that it'd always be there, but I hardly even noticed it anymore. 

We just sat like that for a while, passing the last of the grass between us, not talking, hardly even breathing between wheezes, it seemed. "Man..." Johnny finally broke the silence, flipping the burnt out butt into the dirt, "I thought this shit was supposed to make you feel good." 

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #284

...I wasn't able to call the animal hospital today. It is Saturday. They are closed. I will have to call on Monday instead. I'm sorry about that; I imagine you were looking forward to an update on our recently rescued pigeon friend. Rest assured I will try for an update on Monday morning.

I went to work today. Mostly I sliced breads and bagged rolls. But I also spent some time scooping muffin batter into muffin tins. I really like preparing the muffins. And I really like when my precision allows me to fill more muffin tins than my supervisors expect!

I wasn't able to get any pictures of any of my work today. But I did make sure to grab some other ones for you on the way in to work. The sky was a brilliant shade of awesome this morning, and the pumpkin and flower displays outside the front door of my store were especially striking today, so I took some pictures...

These ones were taken just outside my store...

...Here were some of the displays outside of my building today:

...I wonder who it is, who puts these together so artfully. I feel lucky to work in the same building with them, whoever it is. Next time I'm there, I'll have to ask who puts these together so I can tell them how amazing it looks. Clearly, a lot of love and effort was put into these. I'd like to meet them.

I got a bunch of odds and ends for the house on the way home. I wanted to try to make... drum roll please...!!!

...!!!!!!!

...A brie garlic bread with prosciutto!!!!!

I dunno if anyone has tried it before, but it's hard to go wrong with garlic, butter, bread, cheese, and a salted meat product!!! Unfortunately though, by the time I was all done with everything, I didn't really have energy left to move my ouchy arm around (damn this rib injury to hell and back in a spiky, red-hot metal handbasket!!!!!). So after M and I put everything away, I just made myself a sandwich and ate it with some clementines...

...I kinda floundered emptily for a while after that. I feel like I'm drowning, and I've felt like that ever since Otakon, but I can't exactly pinpoint why; if you've got ideas, I'm all ears. At the moment, it feels like the best I can do is keep the sensation at bay for a little while. I guess I'm getting pretty good at finding ways of doing that, except for when I'm not very good at it. So that's something at least, right?

I'm sure it doesn't help that it's almost time for me to bleed; my body is going to be losing 4 times the normal amount of resources, as per usual. And then on Tuesday, I'm getting 4 teeth yanked out for the sake of those braces. I suppose I'm a bit apprehensive. My body is going to have a really hard time of it in the coming days. I tried some leisure writing to try to calm myself down a little, but... well. The leisure writing is a pale substitute for what it is that I actually want.

...I can't say what it is that I actually want. Not because I don't know what it is - I do know what it is. But... because it's so impossible and silly that if I said it, people would probably make fun of me a lot.

...I wish it wasn't like that. I really wish that others weren't so prone to making superficial judgments about things and coming to very wrong conclusions as a result. But it is what it is.

The wait to see what will happen to you is a very heavy thing to carry; I really don't wanna see you get slaughtered again. I don't like seeing you get hurt. Seeing you get beaten and broken in a number of ways was difficult enough as it is. I'm scared of seeing it happen more.

But I'll do my best with it, all right? I promise. You do your best with your things, too, okay? Promise me.

Well. Suppose I better end this one here before I start to ramble. I'll probably do some Dead Cells for a bit. Dunno how far I'll get, but... smashing up some zombies sounds like a great distraction right about now.

Please stay safe out there. Please don't die. Please don't disappear. Please don't go to some faraway place that no one can reach.

I'll write again tomorrow, hopefully about new garlic bread adventures.

I love you.

Your friend, Lumine

[hamofjustice]

Nemona the Unrivaled

Chapter 3 - A Fresh Start

Info / Chapter Select: here

(This is the last chapter I had lying around before I started working on Ham's League Club Expansion Pack for a while)

“Sigh... alright. How ‘bout we start over. Hi Nemona, my neighbor I’ve never had beef with in my life. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Arven.”

Nemona played along as she rose shakily from the ground to meet his pained smile. “Heh. Hi Arven, nice to meet you too.” She wasn’t really sure if it was normal to be letting him reset their relationship like this, but at this point holding the grudge didn’t feel worth missing out on a connection. She just needed one too badly... and it felt like she’d already made progress on humanizing herself to him, even if it wasn’t in a way she was proud of. It felt like she was just drifting on instinct with no plan now. Hopefully everything didn’t fall apart again...

Once he’d helped her stand, a few awkward moments passed where they were both unsure what to say, or where to look, or what to do with their hands once they’d quickly let go of each other.

Arven eventually decided to just turn to face Miraidon again, with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his forehead. “So, uh... right then, let’s get to business. What’s that you said about finding this brute crash landed on the beach?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, it just fell right out of the sky like it ran out of fuel or something! I went down to feed it some Berries and fend off a bunch of Houndour that were checking it out, then when it felt better it wanted to come up here to the lighthouse, so we went through that tunnel back there...”

Arven crossed his arms. “Huh. Not sure why it’s here, but I guess it’s probably grateful to you.”

“Agias!” Miraidon affirmed.

“Hmph.”

Nemona couldn’t help but notice the way Arven seemed to resent this Pokemon for some reason, even after calming down. “So... if I can ask now... what’s your connection to Miraidon, Arven? Why’s it pawing at your door?”

Arven took a deep breath and gazed up at the horizon, toward the Great Crater. “You’re not going to babble about this to, uh... Chairwoman Geeta or whoever, right?”

“I meannn... you’re right, we do talk, but I can keep a secret.”

“You sure? President’s honor?”

“Promise.”

“... It used to live here with me. It’s something Dad found in Area Zero, I guess? He just... brought it home one day, didn’t tell me much. Guess it was confidential or what have you. But when it snuck out and people found out about it, he took it with him back into the crater before it caused more of a fuss.” he explained, nodding in the forbidden zone’s direction. “I haven’t seen either of ‘em again until just now, so seeing it with you was a bit much to take in. I used to at least get calls or emails from my old man, trying to convince me how much he still cared and he was totally gonna make it all worth it someday, but... those stopped eventually, too.”

He then turned back to Miraidon. “You really ruined my childhood, y’know.”

“Gia...” it responded, cowering again and looking away.

“Whoof... Well, I don’t know if that’s fair to Miraidon. I mean, Professor Turo could come back for you if he really wanted-”

“Yeah, he sure could’ve!” Arven spat, then stepped back sheepishly when Tauros snorted at him.

Nemona winced. “Sorry. Uh... w-what about your mom? Is she cool at least?”

“... Never really knew her. Took off after I was born for whatever reason. Mother of the year, eh?”

Nemona’s eyes turned to saucers.

”Apparently she used to work with Dad, but they fought so much that she just completely up and left one day. Don’t think they even had the chance to get married. Maybe I reminded her of him so much that she didn’t... wanna look at me. Kinda like how I don’t wanna look at this brute. Who knows. Who cares! She can shove it too. Probably just wanted a little lab assistant instead of a son. So yeah, I may as well be an orphan at this rate.”

“Oh my gosh, Arven... I had no idea...”

“Yeah. So that’s what me being ‘the big shot son of the famous, brilliant Professor Turo’ has gotten me in life. And then... uh...”

Arven seemed to be looking at something over Nemona’s shoulder and stopped talking. Nemona turned to look as well.

Adam was walking down the road as far away from them as possible, but when he noticed them looking at him -- or maybe when he heard Arven say who he was in such an over-the-top snarky tone -- he glared straight at them as he passed by. Nemona felt cold and sick again, but Adam never said anything.

Step by step, the anticipation was tearing Nemona up. But nothing happened. Adam just kept on going and eventually looked away and disappeared down the hill ahead.

Arven slumped forward once the new trainer was out of sight. “...Yeesh, what was that all about? S’like that little guy was possessed by the lingering spirit of my beef with you or something.”

Nemona snorted and smiled, to her own surprise. “Heh. Um... that was Adam, he just moved in next door. I uh, well... We, um... He doesn’t like me, no.”

“What’d you do? Uh I mean, what happened?”

Nemona narrowed her eyes at the implication it was her fault, but she resisted snapping back. “Well, uh... basically I told him I was a Champion who wanted to... start my team and my Gym Challenge over, to be a rival to somebody new, and picked out a new little starter Pokemon along with him. Y’know, I wanted to... take him under my wing, share some of my stuff and my knowledge, watch him grow! Maybe... maybe make a... a friend out of it...” she recounted, tapping her fingertips together.

Arven raised an eyebrow when Nemona got shaky at that last part.

“... But he seemed to think I was just doing it to, I don’t know, stroke my ego, or boss him around, or whatever the heck else people think I do. He...” Nemona had to hug herself while she thought about it. “...He kinda started ranting about it at me, until Director Clavell chewed him out for it. It was like Adam thought he already knew who I was and had enough of me in, like... minutes. It just... ouch, y’know? And, to be honest. I don’t think the Director sticking up for me did anything to help the kid thinking I was some kind of ‘teacher’s pet,’ either...”

“...Oh.” Arven guiltily rubbed the back of his neck. “...How many times did you battle him?“

“I didn’t even ask for one yet!” Nemona responded with an angry pout.

“Huh. So that’s the state you were in when I came along and did the same thing to you, huh...”

She softened. “Yeah. ...Yeah. Y-you didn’t know, it’s okay!”

“Is it, though?”

“We’re talking now, I think it turned out okay. But... but...”

Nemona sighed. She felt an instinctive anxiety that she was telling Arven way too much and she should stop, but it seemed far too late to stop now. He’d already seen her fall apart, he should know why too. Especially when he’d revealed so much to her today.

“... I dunno, it all just left me wondering... If... if a total stranger who just moved here can hate me that much, what hope do I have at... at ever...”

Nope, couldn’t keep it together long enough to finish her sentence. She covered her face as her jaw quivered. The audible sniffle probably told Arven what he needed to know.

“So uh... you don’t have life handed to you on a platter like people might assume either, eh?”

Nemona rapidly shook her head no without uncovering it. “N-no. My family’s basically never home either. Today’s the first time I’ve seen them in ages. They kinda... leave me to fend for myself out here. Not that I don’t like the freedom sometimes, but... I dunno.”

“Fend for yourself, huh...” he repeated quietly, looking down at the ground.

Nemona removed her braced arm from her face and rested it in her other palm. “Well, I mean, not literally -- housekeepers come by here and there -- but they know I don’t really like being taken care of like that.”

“Hmph. Well, still no substitute for family, I s’pose.”

“And then when I get out of there and back to school where I belong, it feels like a lotta kids are jealous of me, and everyone I battle or even talk to about Pokemon just gets mad. I wanna have fun with ‘em, maybe even help ‘em get stronger, but they’re all sour grapes about it. Like I’m making fun of them by just... being here, and they’ve gotta fight back.”

Arven scratched the back of his neck some more and looked away. Nemona also averted her gaze, toward her Tauros.

“... Some days, it feels like all I’ve got is my Pokemon.” she continued as she pet the loyal bull. “Everybody thinks ‘cause I’m a Champion and have a rich family and decent grades and stuff, I’m, just... born different. Like I can do things they never could. Like I’m gifted and special, or cheating, when...”

Nemona showed Arven the red glove on her right hand. He took a step back defensively, but then took a closer look at it as she flexed her fingers.

“...When I have to wear this brace just to be able to throw a Poke Ball even halfway right or get through a day of homework without pain, and I can barely make it up the stairs to school without help, and... everyone looks at me like I’m an alien or a science experiment, or like Pokemon battles are an annoying niche interest if I’m the one talking about them...”

Nemona crossed her arms and looked out at the ocean. When she glanced back at Arven, there was a strange mix of emotions on his face. Mostly like he was sad and unsure what to do, like Clavell was, but there was something else going on there too that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Well, no... that's not fair, the new teachers are fine, and little kids like me... and-- S-sorry, sorry, I’m totally unloading on you, I’m sorry, you’ve got it worse. I’m okay, really...” she quickly apologized, rattling her head and turning away again.

“No you’re not.” Arven said firmly.

“Yes I am sorry, you--” Nemona started, falling into her old habits around Arven.

He raised his hands. “Nonono, shush, I mean, you’re not okay.”

“Don’t shush-- Y-yeah, and what about it, huh?”

“And that’s rough, but... pretending you don’t need help isn’t... i-isn’t the way to make it better, is it?”

“Oh.” she responded, deflating. “...Yeah, I guess it really hasn’t been. I just... don’t wanna look needy.”

An awkward pause passed. Both of the teens’ eyes searched the road for nothing in particular as Nemona thought about what Arven said.

“... W-well, I’m as shocked as you are that I ended up being the person you told all this to. And spice adversa, I guess.” he acknowledged as he combed a hand through his fluffy hair.

“... Vice versa?” She quietly corrected.

“Ghk-- Shush, you... nerd.”

Nemona snorted and smiled a bit. “Just making sure you have it right next time.”

“Sure. Anyway... it sounds like you could really use someone in your corner. I could too, I suppose. Maybe we have enough in common to make something work.”

“You... wanna be friends?” Nemona guessed as her face began to light up back to the brightness it belonged at, like the sun rising over the horizon.

“... Yeah. I’ll give it another shot.” Once again, Arven offered her his hand, this time to shake on it, though he was looking away like it was a little embarrassing for him.

Nemona shook his hand eagerly. Somehow, falling apart in front of someone she thought hated her just led to him putting her back together instead of kicking the pieces around. Maybe this morning wouldn’t be so bad. Best not to dwell on how long ago they could’ve been friends if they’d just been a little more open, though...

“Yeah! Sounds good to me, amigo! We should get to school soon, though. Uh... what’re we gonna do with Miraidon?”

“Woorgh?”

“Ugh, right, where are we going to keep that brute now? We can’t put it in a Ball because it’s already registered to my dad, and I’d rather not leave it unsupervised...”

“Oh wait, hold on! I found a Poke Ball in the sand next to this fella.” Nemona remembered, and went to dig through her satchel for it. Being in a different pocket than the others made it stand out. “You never know, this could be it.”

“Agias!”

“Well, try it and see, I suppose...”

Nemona attempted to recall Miraidon into the Poke Ball, and sure enough, it succeeded. Whatever this thing was, it was in her hand now... even if it was apparently not in any shape to be used yet.

“Well I’ll be a Mankey’s uncle, that solves that problem! Normally I’d tell you not to go parading it around Paldea, but actually, now that I think about it... I’m honestly all for doing anything that would make my old man steamed, so go ahead. I have to admit Miraidon was pretty clever bringing its own Ball along like that, though. Hmmm... unless Dad sent it back here on purpose for some reason? If it’s supposed to be his messenger, I don’t know what the message is, or how an email wouldn’t have been easier. I don’t suppose there were any sticky notes under its, uh, saddle or anything, were there?”

“Don’t think so. Um... you think something bad happened to the professor?”

“... It’s possible. Last time I went-- Uh, last time I heard it was a really dangerous place. Really earned that restricted access.”

“Dangerous? Like, full of super-strong Pokemon? I could probably handle those!”

Arven rolled his eyes. “... Well, yeah, but also the thousand foot drops, and I doubt all the radiation from those crystal things has been healthy for Dad’s brain in the long term... Anyway, right, school. I was just gonna walk, maybe train up this Skwovet I caught earlier, but now I’m pretty behind schedule. Err, uhh, not that this little chat wasn’t worth it, ‘course.”

“You wanna ride on my Cyclizar?” Nemona offered eagerly. “I think it’s strong enough for two. Can't go skipping class if I bring you there myself!”

Arven pinched his brow like this was the hardest decision of his life. “...Fine.”

“Heh heh! Alright! Get on and let’s vamos!”

And with that, the ornery outdoorsman clung tightly to Nemona’s back as they zipped through the rest of Poco Path, the nearby village of Los Platos, and the hills beyond on her galloping Cyclizar. The entrance gates to Mesagoza were soon just a few minutes away despite the interruptions.

Nemona hadn’t even considered that Arven would have to do such an overly familiar thing when she brought up the idea to hitch a ride, but he eventually gave up his pride after falling off for trying to be hands-off. She had to admit -- at least to herself -- that a hug from a peer felt pretty nice even if it was for purely practical reasons.

“Soooo, that Skwovet you mentioned! Are you starting over with a new Pokemon too, then? Or did you just finally decide to start training something besides that Mabosstiff?” she asked loudly enough to be heard while they were moving.

“Mmm. Uh. You remember him, huh?”

“Of course! You two seemed as inseparable as it gets -- a real inspiration for how close a Trainer and Pokemon can be!”

Arven took a deep breath for some reason. “...Thanks. Yeah, I guess I am... s-starting over. Sorta. I’ll put Mabosstiff back on my team when everyone else, uh, catches up to him, ‘course...”

“Hey, alright! Maybe we can get some battles in with your Skwovet and my Sprigatito then! You ‘n’ me could even do that idea I had with...” No, no need to say that kid’s name anymore. Forget him. “...Uh, that idea to start new teams and do the Gyms over and stuff!” Calm down, don’t ask for too much. “......If you want. No pressure.”

“Yeah, maybe I could use the help.”

[avianyuh]

I'll Call You; Jaehyun (part four)

PART 4/4

Summary:You and Jaehyun have had a secretive on and off again relationship for a few years. After a nasty fight and assumed break-up, you anticipate he'll be back at your door within a few weeks. When word gets back to you that he's been seeing Winter from aespa, you're angry, confused, but mostly hurt. Is Jaehyun done with you or is there more to the story?

Recap: Jaehyun shows up at your dorm and wants to explain himself, but will Y/n let him?

The minute I stepped out of the front door, I was greeted by that handsome face I had grown to love. This whole situation had me so conflicted. I didn’t know if I could trust Jaehyun anymore. If I really sat down and thought about it, he basically strung me along for three years. The real question now; If I decide I don’t want closure and want to try to make this relationship work once and for all, will he be able to commit? All I know is that I can’t go back to the way things were before. It was a disaster and it wasn’t good for either of us. 

Jaehyun stood with his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants. He seemed to be trying to keep a low profile since he was dressed in an all black ensemble. His hoodie was huge, probably to combat the cold weather. The sky was cloudy and it looked like it was going to rain any minute now. He looked at me and gave a shy smile. I could tell something was bothering him because his eyes seemed heavy with worry and his shoulders were slouched. His hair had been slightly tousled, making it seem like he just rolled out of bed.  Which was very out of character for him since Jaehyun was never in a rush for anyone. 

“I’m surprised you’re here”, is all I said. I didn’t know what he was going to say and I was anticipating the worst. That he had a fling with someone else and he realized he could do better than me, or maybe that he was just going to apologize and suggest that we both move on. I don’t know which one would be more disappointing to hear…

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you having the wrong idea. It’s my fault for waiting so long to fix this. Listen…” he sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes darted around his surroundings. It’s a habit of his I had picked up on. He does it whenever he’s trying to collect his thoughts. “I was an asshole to you throughout our whole relationship. And the fight we had? It was my fault. I wanted to stay…but…in my head, if I get attached and something goes wrong. Or if something gets leaked and you get pushback, I’d blame myself. But after I left and I thought about it, I realized just how much I hate having distance between us. I want to be your boyfriend. I treated you like shit and I want to make up for it. I’m sorry about the things I said.” He finished, taking a deep breath. He stared into my eyes as he waited for a response. I could tell he was nervous. When he said he wanted to be my boyfriend my heart skipped a beat, but before I gave in, I needed to have my questions answered. 

“Jaehyun, I can’t say yes until I know the full story”, I said, leaning against the door. I looked down before I asked my question that I had been dreading to hear the answer to. “Were you seeing someone else?” Before I could even look up on my own, I felt him use his pointer finger to lift my chin up to look at him. 

“No. Who told you that?”, he asked. I sighed, now I felt stupid.

“Yura said there was talk that you and one of your label mates were seen out together. That’s why I was under the impression that you had moved on.”

He shook his head, letting out a light laugh, “No. I’ll admit we did go out to dinner”, I felt my heart sink when he said that. “BUT, it was a dinner with a bunch of people, not just her. Johnny was there, so was Doyoung and Jungwoo. I think she liked me, I’m not entirely sure, but I wasn’t interested and it never went anywhere. I told you, I’ve only been with you. No one else.” The minute he said that last part I knew I heard all I needed to know. I immediately grabbed his face and pulled him down into a kiss. Coincidentally it started to drizzle, we both looked up and laughed. His lips were as soft as I had remembered. His body was pressed against mine and I was still leaning against the door. 

Though the air was cold, the heat between us made me forget about the rainy weather. We pulled away from each other momentarily and I stared into his inviting eyes. My forehead pressed against his. “So, are you my boyfriend?” I giggled as he gave me a quick kiss. 

“Are you my girlfriend?”, he asked in a teasing tone. 

“Of course I am.”, I said as I shyly turned away, opening the door with my right hand as the other was holding his own. “By the way, I think you should talk to Yura, she kind of hates you.”, I reminded him to be patient with my best friend, since she was a bit protective. 

“Well she better hear me out and get used to me because I’m not going anywhere.”, he said, closing the door behind him. 

{A/N: thank you for all support given to this series. Again if you have a request for a new one, please don't hesitate! Love ya}

[sankatsuka]

Haruka & Tsukasa Character Discussion - HFD: The Joy of Being Someone Else, Someone Who Makes Everyone Smile

I've been feeling like talking about Haruka and Tsukasa for the longest time... The intentions behind Project Sekai's writing still does confuse me, but I decided to take a personal approach as to what Haruka and Tsukasa mean to me.

Warning:

There will be HCs to fill in gaps

Spoilers up to BURN MY SOUL.

Mentions of ED

I am using my own experience with HFD to explain Haruka and Tsukasa's character

Messy. IT'S SO HARD TO TALK ABOUT PROSEKA CHARACTERS!!

Edit: Felt compelled to add more. I also just found out that it may be more appropriately called dysthymia?

The desire to become someone else is an ongoing theme in Project Sekai, an emotion insecure characters like Ichika and Akito have. I feel like it's very easy to see in both their characters - Ichika is definitely most obvious, Akito takes a little tiny bit of psycho-analysis but his commissions scream obvious. The two characters I feel these emotions are very prominent in as well, but aren't clearly shown are Haruka and Tsukasa, and I want to discuss this because of how interesting I find it to be.

Haruka's desire to become 'someone else' really only became crystal clear in That Day's Dream. The story made it very obvious with how she wished she could be like the Smiling Princess as a child. As for Tsukasa, that desire has ironically always been crystal clear in his claims to "Future Star". What these two share in common is that neither of them seem to be insecure. But... if you're able to tell Akito is insecure from how hard he pushes himself because he can't reach his goal - it's really the same with Haruka and Tsukasa, they are extremely hard on themselves when they can't deliver hope/become a star (Haruka's rehabilitation, Sky's Edge). It just isn't as obvious as Akito's because they are both capable of becoming that 'someone else': they don't have to push themselves to the brink of death like Akito to be stopped and realize an alternative: that you have your own light. (Haruka is slowly realizing it... not Tsukasa)

Haruka and Tsukasa's feelings to "become someone else" seem to come from a similar place: not being able to make their loved ones happy as children. Haruka as a child laments making her mother sad, whereas Tsukasa has once said in passing in Hinamatsuri that he always makes Saki sad. It's completely normal to let people down from time to time, but both Haruka and Tsukasa express a desire of wanting to make sure this never happens again (Haruka as a child working on her smile, Tsukasa trying to buy Hina dolls). We see this sense of responsibility in their present again and again: Haruka being extremely hard on herself for accidentally hurting Mai, Tsukasa continuously criticizing himself for his mistake in unit story. It's like it's unacceptable for them to make mistakes, even when it's not entirely their fault nor responsibility (Mai should have stopped herself, Nene and Rui were the ones who made the mistake in the first place and anyone serious about it would have gotten angry). This sense of responsibility is what's hurting them, but the question is: where did it come from? Why is it so strong?

We don't know, so it's theory zone here. Haruka's monotonousness as a child and her few facial expressions at present (when off-stage) to me seems like a general difficulty to feel positive emotions strongly. I like to think this is genetic, linked to high-functioning depression (HFD) and/or anxiety. Further evidence of this is in how Haruka randomly expresses discomfort being in crowds as a child, and how her parents have to check if she's fine with walking more - we see a bunch of negative emotions amplified with child Haruka, even in the present-day where she's the one who constantly worries for MMJ. Haruka is more capable of expressions when on stage as an idol, and to me that's because she's acting as someone cute who makes everyone smile. Perceiving something as 'cute' fills us with a pure sense of happiness. As someone who suffers from HFD, I feel happiest when I can make other people happy, with the things I love. I know I enjoy them, but I cannot feel it strongly. But when I create something out of the things I enjoy, and someone else enjoys it - it elates me beyond anything. As if your dull emotions reached someone who feels it strongly in your stead... It gives you a reason to work hard and live your life to the fullest and nothing else can make you that happy to look forward to the next day. I'm inclined to believe this is what makes Haruka feel so strongly responsible for others, she lives for them and wants to deliver only the best hope for them.

But having HFD also means you've suppressed the pain that comes with dulled emotions, that it becomes the norm to suppress other pains too to keep meeting expectations of the people you live for. It's where I think her ED stems from, and why she herself isn't fully aware of all the pain that comes with her perfect lifestyle in Break Time - because she's suppressed it all.

As for Tsukasa, it's more ambiguous. There are tons of theories with how little we still know about him - but this is one way to look at it at an angle of HFD. Most kids in his position wouldn't be as empathetic with being neglected for their sickly sibling, and children don't have empathy at a young age - we see how Rui couldn't understand why his classmates were afraid and how An gets angry when she doesn't get attention. Tsukasa demonstrates emotonal maturity at a young age, being able to just accept the situation without throwing a tantrum about why it has to be that way (so far). On top of that, he also has the emotional clarity to see that Saki is lonely and that she has to continuously force her smile. It again stems from emotional maturity - always putting himself in the other's shoes: in Hinamatsuri, instead of fixating on how hurt he was from the fall, he thinks more about how Saki must be sad about having to see the dolls she longed for all dirtied up like that.

But just how is he able to be this... easily selfless, without harbouring any spite for having to neglect his own desires? Once again, my HC is that this has to do with being born with HFD, that spending time with his family doesn't spark that much joy for him to get strongly upset over. But what he does express is a desire not to be left alone for too long, a primitive human emotion, but only to himself. But even with this loneliness, he prioritizes the emotions of his family. Because they're all having a hard time, what he can do is make them happy. Shows gave him his answer: becoming a star like Amami would let him give the best smile to his family and friends. He naturally wants to entertain them as much as that show excited them so they didn't have to keep suffering, and stardom was the answer to that.

For Tsukasa, this is the reason why he must be at Amami's level no matter what. He views this as the only way for him to deliver the best possible smile, to fulfil his life's purpose. As I said, with HFD you live for people - your life's purpose is to make other people happy with what you enjoy. Tsukasa didn't think much about the performance in the prologue, but he does note how just singing and dancing made everyone smile, which could be a hint to what about shows he enjoys (like how Haruka finds idols cute). But I think he's also been heavily misled to think being the top star is the only way - because, why not just be a star in your own right, as Tsukasa Tenma and not having anything to do with Seiichi Amami?

A notable difference about Haruka and Tsukasa's discoveries of their dreams is how they were introduced to it. Haruka was invited on stage as her own idol, Tsukasa was an audience. Haruka can be her own idol, whereas Tsukasa lacks this reference point of himself. And another difference is how their families treat their dreams - Tsukasa's family seem to view it as just an odd trait of his, whereas Haruka's parents took it very seriously when she expressed her desire to become an idol. In fact, Haruka's mother's words were probably most important in making sure Haruka remembered that she would always, always, always be enough as herself:

"Yeah. Because Haruka's smile... is the cutest in the world!"

It's Haruka's smile that's the cutest in the world to her beloved mother, and not just on stage. Wherever it was that Haruka was smiling, wherever it was that she found her happiness, it'd be the cutest for her mother. Her mother wants her to smile, to be happy, to remember idolhood is for her own happiness above all. Whereas for Tsukasa, his family was smiling at the star in front of them, not him. His own performance won't make anyone happy.

It doesn't change that Haruka is hard on herself though. Habits of taking on too much responsibility for the only thing you care about don't die easily, and the idol world is tough... But she has people who care about her, who were there for her when she was at her worst, and now she has MMJ. There's also the difference of how Haruka wants to be seen as a normal schoolgirl, whereas Tsukasa is always in future star mode and has never expressed a desire to be normal. Haruka can probably cling onto her normal self after quitting idolhood and not feel overly responsible about letting people down, because she knows it's just right that her real, non-idol self should be loved too. But for Tsukasa, this common sense doesn't exist, not when he isn't convinced that him just being there, being normal is enough to make Saki happy (Hinamatsuri):

Saki: "W-Wait, onii-chan! It's fine to be more normal about it! Icchan and the others will get surprised!

Tsukasa: "I-Is that so?"

Saki: "It is! Besides, it's enough fun with you just being here with me!"

Tsukasa: "Just being with me makes you have fun... That is indeed something only a star can do!"

Saki: "Ahahaha..."

This common sense doesn't exist because his upbringing has taught him that only through stardom will he be accepted and loved normally. Because he couldn't give anyone a smile when he was just himself, but they all smiled at the star - this is who he has to be in order for people to love him and so he can bring happiness to them. Unlike Haruka's parents who made it a point to show her how her own happiness is what makes them happy. And no one thinks there's anything wrong with Tsukasa's pursuits because he seems to be having fun, but he can only really have fun because of the false sense of security and belonging that the title of 'future star' creates for him. That we see the excruciating pain he goes through when suddenly, that dream of becoming a star seems to be impossible.

Because his parents never seemed to take his dream seriously like Haruka's (which is possibly the reason she was able to become an idol so early), Tsukasa has to work on the stardom he desperately wants on his own with no guidance since childhood. There's no reference point other than the star on the TV, no teacher to help him shape his very own acting style, so he has to imitate all of the star's mannerisms to get closer to them. It's similar to Minori, but because she was pursuing idolhood out of her own passion for it there wasn't as much pressure to get there quickly and do it right. But for Tsukasa, being a proper star is the only place he thinks he'll be happy in - a place he can finally make people smile and for the happiness he brings them to colour his dull world and save him, like how Haruka was saved with idolhood (HFD tingz). Unfortunately, that proper path was closed off from the beginning for him, because of the lack of parenting.

Minori once viewed idolhood as being just like Haruka, until her first live made her realize how idolhood was about working hard and shining as yourself over naively yearning to be someone you admire. Haruka always knew this because of how she was introduced to idolhood in way of 'you can be an idol, too!'. Tsukasa only seems to be realizing that now: his obsession with colouring his dull world with stardom made him not see how he as a person, his own emotions, has a role in achieving it as well. He can't just be a copy of others. As we can see from how he currently has a hard time grasping deeply emotional roles, it isn't far-off to deduce that his continuous emotional suppression, learning-from-imitation and lack of focus on self have hampered his ability to feel emotions purely as himself, and instead understands emotions from other people's perspectives - reflected in his empathy as a child.

Sky's Edge portrays Tsukasa's soul-crushing pain of being far away from the star of that day, of the impossibility of being that star, exactly because of how obsessed he is with stardom saving his dull, worthless days. The world became grey and colourless for Haruka when she suddenly became incapable of standing on the stage as an idol. But for Haruka... there was still a tiny bit of hope she can return to the stage by a miracle, because her own guilt was what was stopping her and her past proved that she always had the ability to. So more than permanent loss, it was frustration at being the way she was, how her own emotional weakness made the world became grey and made her unable to be an idol, when it was just... right... there. But MMJ showed her that it was fine to be that way, that she can still be an idol even as someone like that. Everyone has emotions, so she doesn't have to be hard on herself for it - share that pain with them, and then try again tomorrow.

Haruka's feelings in Painful Hope can be seen as a similar pain as the powerlessness and self-hatred that Tsukasa felt in Sky's Edge, but the difference is that Tsukasa doesn't have the hope she has. He never got a place on the stage as his ideal star before and now it's being shown to him how he will never get it because he may have reached his limit. Even though he tried so hard, getting past all the times he felt weak and wanted to give up - because something about him just wasn't enough (his emotions). It's as if it was all pointless. There's no proof to Tsukasa that his efforts were never pointless, like how Haruka's past successes prove to her. And this is all because Tsukasa never had the proper path to stardom in the first place, because his parents for some reason just didn't push him onto it despite how passionate he was.

But Tsukasa still reaches out, because he wants it and wants to be saved. Even the tiniest bit of hope that's there for his dream, he'll reach out for it. Just like Haruka did after she experienced her trauma on stage, until... it all felt impossible. Tsukasa seemed about ready to give up too at the end of Sky's Edge and just gave it his all, not expecting his performance to be any great but still wanting to try his best. Luckily for Tsukasa it worked, but for Haruka... it never did, until she met MMJ. But it may be better if things don't work out for Tsukasa at some point, like it was with Haruka - because it led her to meeting MMJ who taught her a happiness of not holding all her pain to herself anymore. Tsukasa and Haruka are humans, so getting too caught up pursuing an ideal without considering your own emotions is like rejecting your humanity, placing inhuman expectations on yourself. As If's lyrics goes, "A never-ending story? That's boring. I want to see a dawn that won't come 'forever'."

But... It may get very messy if stardom doesn't work out with Tsukasa, especially with his upbringing of 'not feeling loved as just himself'. Without stardom, Tsukasa will have nowhere to go. It will probably be a necessary mess at some point in the future so he can finally learn to embrace his humanity...

Maybe I'm biased, but with how Mafuyu and Touya have highly similar upbringings, maybe it's the same for the other SEKAI creator (Tsukasa) and Haruka. The difference does seem to be that the non-SEKAI creators were still loved. Even Touya by his own family, despite being wronged by them - he could tell his father was passionate, to the point he loved his father's music and he's still able to voice his complaints, but with Mafuyu it's just cold iciness. As if Touya can feel that his family will always care no matter how he expresses himself, whereas Mafuyu can feel that if she isn't the person her mother wants her to be, then she will lose the love her mother has for her (emotional manipulation...). And with Haruka and Tsukasa, this whole post details it - how Haruka's family's proper support is what has gotten her this far whereas Tsukasa's lack of it is what has led him astray.

If Mafuyu and Touya share 'winter' in their name, then Haruka and Tsukasa's relationship is in Tsukasa's use of the word 'haruka' in describing how far his dreams are 🤪

[blu3cl0v3rs]

end of the year fic asks! did you do any prompts/challenges this year? if so, do you have a favorite of the bunch?

Hello anon, thanks for the ask!

I actually don't think I published this one, but I wrote this one for a discord server game.

I titled it,

Morro, of the Wind

            Wind whistled in his ears as he fell.

            Once, he feared that noise. Even a simple breeze felt like a knife’s tip brushed across his skin, just light enough to not to cut. 

            Now, he plummeted below the flying ship and away from the voices of his teammates, eyes shut as he relished the roaring of the wind in his ears.

            When the blonde was about to ram into the ground, his leathery wings stretched out. He swooped just above a field. Lloyd twisted and dragged his hands and the fluffy tip of his tail through the grass.

            The boy got bored of playing with the blades, and rapidly flapped upwards. He rocketed through the clouds. The Dragoni left his wings spread and rode the wind currents high above the ground. Any thoughts were overrun by the rushed wind.

            Above the clouds, there was only the open blue sky and the fluffy tops of clouds. No responsibility, no rules, no people to save. Just the sky, the clouds, himself, and a purplish blob following him.

            …wait, what?

            He halted, and the clouds below him spun out of the way of his flapping wings that held him in place. Emerald eyes scanned the horizon for that strange purple thing he saw.

            He looked, and looked, and looked. It’s like the thing vanished, Lloyd thought to himself.

            “...hello?” Lloyd rotated his scaly ears, and listened for any tell-tale noise of movement.

            All he could hear was the wind.

            He hesitantly returned to the air current, but this time he was fully alert; eyes and ears darted in search for anything not cloud and sky.

            This time he would catch it.

            As he waited patiently, boredom seeped in. He could also feel his not often used muscles aching. He should really fly more.

            Lloyd shook his head. He was losing focus! He glanced around quickly, and hoped he found the purple mystery.

            He saw it. Lloyd launched himself after it, and the thing ran. Flew? Whatever it was doing, it was fast. 

            It’s like the wind’s boosting it, Lloyd thought. No, it’s like it is the wind.

            Flashes of Nya merging with the ocean came to mind. He grimaced, and ignored the images in favor of speeding up.

            The purplish thing ducked underneath the clouds. So that’s how it’s been hiding, Lloyd realized as he followed.

            The sight of rocky cliffs that dropped to the ocean emerged from the clouds. The purple blob swirled down to the jagged edge of a cliff. The blonde swooped after it, and the two landed on the rock ledge.

            It seemed to pulse, as if it was trying to decide its shape. Like Nya did after she merged, his mind supplied more unpleasant memories that Lloyd ignored. It formed into a familiar person, one more popular in his nightmares; Morro. 

            “Hello,” Morro didn’t exactly speak; it was more like an echo, or the breeze mimicking words. “You are familiar to me. I know you.”

            The words sounded like Morro, but far away and lacked the ghostly distortion.

            “Lloooo… Lloyd?” the wind figure tested, as if he was saying it for the first time.

            “Yeah,” he replied on instinct. 

            “I wronged you… I hurt you.”

            “Yeah."

            The wind picked up, and Morro began to fade. “I…”

            Whatever words he said next were stolen by the swirling wind, and Morro disappeared. 

            Lloyd sat there, his wings sagged in confusion. He stayed there until the Destiny's Bounty arrived and his siblings yelled at him for flying off.