#Lost Blue/Broken Red au

[wandering-ghost]

Does this count as propaganda? Did I do this right? Is this convincing enough?!

@rottmnt-au-summit

[perma-dead]

guys help i made an au on tuesday and i’ve written over 4k in terms of character info/lore + actual story. i haven’t plotted out the whole thing yet but i have enough info for a first chapter and then some so when (if) i finish it i will post it with the disclaimer that it might not get written for a while </3 but i do think you all might like it

[rin-may-1103]

Badger Day Au (part two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

"Fourteen?" Aquaman repeats, turning his chair to face Danny. "Fourteen what? Days, weeks, months?"

Flash hissed like he was in pain, "Please don't say it's been fourteen months!"

Danny trailed his eyes away from the ceiling, away from the bothersome crack, and toward the single window in the room. He could just barely make out the Cassiopeia constellation. Its distinct W shape winked and flickered, drawing up a memory from a few loops into this whole mess. Tucker had wanted to comfort him, seeing as Danny had just broken down crying over how frustrated he was with everything.

The Ghost of Cassiopeia. Also known as IC 63, about 550 light years away.

A giant cloud of dust and gas. A nebula. Its ethereal glow reminded people of spirits they would see in haunted houses or fields. So they called it the ghost of Cassiopeia.

But it wasn't a ghost, it's simply hydrogen that's been bombarded with ultraviolet radiation from the nearby star. A blue giant called Gamma Cassiopeiae. It's also known as the center of the constellation. The light from the blue giant makes the majority of the nebula glow a vivid red. The blue around the edges is just light reflected off the dust within.

Tucker had joked that Danny should try and see how far he could get before the loop restarted. See if he could even get past Jupiter. Danny had just snorted and brushed his suggestion off. What was the point when he should be spending his time trying to fix the loop?

About six years in, Danny had given up and tried.

Eight months he had spent flying. He got further and further out into the void, surrounded by darkness and the beautiful stars in the distance to guide him. He never managed to make it past Pluto before he was brought back.

"Years," Danny confessed, his eyes still trained on the faraway stars.

"YEARS!?!" Superman cried, standing up so fast his chair was sent flying into the wall. Danny glanced back up at the crack, watching as it grew just a little larger, plaster dust sprinkling down like freshly fallen snow.

Sighing, Danny sat up and stared at the group. How many times has he had this conversation? How many times was he going to explain what was happening? How many times was he going to wake up in his bed just to restart all over again?

"Years," Danny repeated, "Fourteen years. Like I said, I've tried everything."

They sat in silence for a moment, just digesting his situation. Batman was standing still, his fists clenched tightly. Superman looked faint like he would pass out. Flash looked devastated.

Wonder Woman leaned forward, her brows furled in confusion, "Were you cursed, young one?"

"No, I checked. You checked. Heck, even Zatanna and Constantine have checked. I'm not cursed." Danny grumbled, slumping down to rest his head on the table.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to just curl up and sleep for the next however long. Wanted to hug Jazz and cry about how unfair it all was. Wanted to curl into his mother's side and cling until she made it all better. Hide behind his father until he knew it was safe.

but he couldn't.

Something always happened when he tried. If he stayed home from the very beginning of the day, the league would call him over and over again, convinced he was needed for the case Batman had. They even sent Flash over a few times just to search the city to drag him to the meeting.

(He was happy they hadn't figured out his civilian identity yet, but man was it hard to watch as Flash stuck his face into every nook and cranny around town yelling his name. Danny's lost count of how many times the man got overshadowed.)

If he managed to convince them that he was in a loop, then they found it would be safer for him to stay up on the watchtower. where they could keep an eye on him while searching for a way to break it.

Or, if he managed to convince them he was sick or something and they left him alone, Vlad would start acting up. Jack would call him on the phone to cancel Maddie's meeting with him because Danny was 'sick'. If he convinces Maddie to go and stay home with his dad, then Jack somehow opens the portal long enough for one of his rogues to slip through.

It just never ends. Everything he's tried ends with him having to go ghost and fight. The calmest day he's managed to have ended with Box ghost blasting the portal doors open so he could give him a homemade lunch from his wife, which then led the ghost to find Jack's new weapon box and go ballistic because of his obsession.

after that, he gave up spending time with his parents and focused more on his friends and Jazz. This was equally disastrous.

so, his safest option was to go to the meeting and stay with the league.

Glancing up, Danny watched as the time slowly changed on the clock; six twenty-nine, tick, tick, tick, six thirty.

Sighing, Danny sat up and held his hand out, making eye contact with Batman. He might as well get the day going, no use in wallowing in self-pity. He's done that plenty already.

"I already figured out what the cult wanted to do, we just need to figure out where their next meeting is. I'll fill you guys in on the rest." Danny added, wiggling his fingers in the hope it would make Batman move faster.

Batman sighed and handed him the folder. Once Danny had the folder, Batman sat down to listen to his report intently.

Flipping the file open, Danny grabbed the first page and showed it to the group, ignoring how a copy showed up on the big screen behind Batman. (again, why use paper if he was just going to project it?)

"This is the result of the cult's last meeting, two weeks ago. as you can see, the ground has been scorched and the ritual circle permanently carved into the cement." Tossing the paper and ignoring it as Flash scrambled to catch it, Danny grabbed the next couple of pages.

Holding up the seventy missing person reports, Danny placed them on the table and separated them into four different piles. "After some digging, Batman was able to figure out the pattern between the missing people. This group," Danny pointed to the one on the left, "consists of organ donors who were anemic."

pointing to the pile on the right, Danny continued, "This group is made up of meta-humans who have powers related to the elements. they also all happen to have more than one piercing, though Batman didn't really figure out if that had an impact on whether they were chosen or not..."

Pointing to the northern pile, Danny separated the top seven pages. "while everyone in this pile has some relation to an ancient and powerful witch from the 1500s, these seven are the only ones who still share her 'family' name. I'm not sure exactly how this affects the cult's motives, Batman hadn't shared that with me in all the loops so far."

Danny glared at Batman in annoyance, he didn't care if there was a good reason or not. Without fail, in each loop that Danny's made it through where Batman makes the connection; he would refuse to tell Danny about it.

Rolling his eyes at Batman's unwavering apathy, Danny continued, "The last pile consists of people who have been dead at some point in their lives. whether it be just a few seconds or a few weeks."

passing the reports around, Danny pulled the next page from the file. "Flash and Constantine were able to connect the past locations of the cult gatherings. Constantine figured out there was a specific magic signature that he could follow, so he had Flash drag him around the world to map the locations."

tapping the table, Danny selected the world map. Glancing at the paper he had pulled out, Danny marked the places with a red dot. Then he marked the places Constantine found in blue. Looking up, Danny found the league staring at him.

"What?" Danny huffed, shoving the hologram away from him. Batman grabbed it and started to examine it.

"So, do we need Constantine for this?" Green Lantern asks, scratching his head.

Shrugging, Danny tossed the folder over to Wonder Woman. "You can call him if you want, but he won't get here until noon. He's in the house of mystery dealing with a pixie infestation."

"pixie infestation?" Superman asks, turning to look over to Zatanna. Zatanna reached into her jacket and handed him a pamphlet, not turning away from watching Danny with curious eyes.

"Anyway, like I was saying. the cult's been going around taking all these people and using them in their rituals."

"you said you knew what they were trying to do, what was it?" Batman asked with a noticeable frown.

Sighing, Danny pinched his nose. "they've been trying to summon Pariah Dark."

"The ghost king!?!?" Zatanna squawked, slamming her hands onto the table.

"yeah, that bastard," Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. The cult hadn't been successful for all fourteen years now, so Danny wasn't too worried about it. But still... If something, anything really, changed just the slightest; would they succeed? Would they drag Prariah out of his sarcophagus and let him lose on the living?

Danny's already had to face him once, he didn't know if he could do it again. The Fenton ecto-skeleton suit had been ruined last time, to the point dad hadn't even tried to fix it.

"Bastard?" Aquaman repeated, eyes narrowed, "You speak as if you've met him before."

"I have," Danny admitted, "and I will again if we don't do something about the cult." What if this is the loop the cult succeeded? what if it's the next one, or the one after that? could Danny even do anything to prevent it?

Zatara sat down with a heavy thump, her eyes widening in shock. Danny lifted his brow, wondering what was wrong with her. She hadn't acted like this any other time? what was different? had he said something he hadn't last time? hmm, something to think about later.

"back to the case," Danny shrugged, turning to gesture at the hologram of the world. "we were able to narrow down the cult's next location to about seven hundred places. I was able to check off about six hundred and thirty these last few loops. That leaves about seventy places they could be."

Danny used a yellow dot to select the seventy places he still needed to check.

"um," Flash started, nervously glancing between Danny and the globe. "you just highlighted the whole grand cannon and all of Alaska... and the Himalayas.... and the-"

"Yep," Danny cut in, "Like I said, I checked off all the others. These are the last seventy I still need to check. I haven't before because it's a lot of ground to cover. I was hoping I'd catch a break and find the cult before I had to check all those places, but nope. The fruitloops just had to make it difficult.

"oh," Flash winced, "do, do you want me to check them out?"

sighing, Danny leaned back in his chair, "I would love to have you check them out, but you need a magic user who knows what they're looking for to go with you. it's why we haven't found them yet, it's taking forever."

"Oh," was the only response he got.

"you know what we are looking for?" Zatara asks, finally getting over whatever had surprised her.

"yeah, it's hard to explain. I'll have to bring you or the others to a previous place and show you."

"hmm, alright. after the meeting, why don't you bring me so that at least one more person can help start looking, until, john is freed up at noon?" she suggests, tilting her head to the side.

"sounds good with me," Danny shrugged. it's not like it'll hurt to have her looking around, heck, they might even get lucky and she'll find them.

Next

[wttcsms]

🏐 wttcsms written works, haikyuu ;

last updated feb 23, 2024

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles and i can't make you stay (in this broken place) — ( nsfw )  i sin too much to pray for you — no one can believe that one of the most powerful crime lords in the underground world of japan, atsumu miya, is wrapped around the finger of a naive girl like you, but love doesn’t really care about boundaries anyway. take care of you — ( nsfw ) atsumu just wants to give you everything he can offer: an easy job, a brand new car, a baby… wanting was enough (for me, it was enough) — ( sfw ) "He carries your confession home in the to-go box from the diner. It’s heavy, matching the American theme of burgers containing his weight in meat and fries slick with oil and grease. The two of you are walking together, and he wants to ask you, specifically, what did you mean when you told the team you liked me?" paper rings — ( sfw ) the tiffany blue ring box currently resides in the second drawer of his night stand, unceremoniously buried underneath several pairs of calvin klein briefs. when you know, you know — ( sfw ) atsumu considers marriage to be a trap, until he realizes that even a lifetime commitment to you isn’t long enough

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : domesticity with atsumu — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : ex!atsumu seeing you're engaged to oikawa — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : how atsumu says i love you — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : atsumu and you having "non-dates" — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : atsumu's green flags — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : dating atsumu — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : dad!atsumu — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : mastermind inspired — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : atsumu randomly showing you his camera roll — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : in a world of boys, he's a gentleman — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : atsumu as a college interviewer tiktoker — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : husband atsumu using ur purse — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : you're the first person atsumu wants to tell anything to — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : the miya divide — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : girl dad atsumu — ( sfw )

multipart afterglow — ( nsfw ) finding out that his hot supermodel girlfriend is dumping him for some baseball player? that sucks. finding out via her red carpet debut with her new man as her plus one? sucks a bit more. having this happen to him the same day he just lost the last game of the season? yeah, it’s starting to feel like the universe has it out for him at this point, right? but atsumu miya is nothing if not petty, childish, and immature. he’ll get back at her. after all, there’s a secret dating app created by publicists and agents that pair up perfect matches for brightening up any celebrity’s public image. all atsumu has to do is pay a pretty sum of money to convince the media (and mainly his ex) that atsumu miya is still on top of the world and living his best life with the best (albeit, fake) girlfriend ever. unfortunately for him, his perfect match just so happens to be you — his first girlfriend, his highschool sweetheart turned sour, and the first girl who ever broke his heart. you know what they say: when it rains, it pours.

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles customer satisfaction — ( nsfw ) you go above and beyond for your customers...

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : engaged to oikawa when atsumu's your ex (yikes) — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : ex husband!oikawa still in love with you — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : ice skating au — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : royal au — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : learning about the tradition of giving the first slice of cake to who you love the most — ( sfw )

multipart forever golden — ( nsfw ) everything is going fine: you just graduated with your first degree, you get to work alongside your older brother for the 2021 olympics, and you think now might be the perfect time to finally jumpstart your dating life (atsumu miya certainly seems cute...). there's no time for you to think about torn acls, shattered dreams, and the fact that this was never your original goal in life. and there's certainly no time for you to worry about tooru oikawa, the boy who practically grew up in your house now turned into the man who poses as your team's fiercest competitor. you definitely don't have the free time to remember how he's the first boy who ever had (and subsequently broke) your heart. or that the two of you went from practically joined at the hip to total strangers for the past four years. you don't even bother wondering why he suddenly wants to repair the broken bond between you two, and you totally don't give in to him (except for the times that you do... which is almost all the time).  yeah. everything is going fine.

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles rapture — ( nsfw ) his tenacity and stamina prove to be a deadly combination indeed. you know you make my cold heart warm with a touch — ( nsfw ) how else can kiyoomi show you how close to his heart he keeps you than by fucking into you so deep, you’re pretty sure you can feel him reaching for yours?

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : how kiyoomi says i love you — ( sfw )

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles as the world caves in — ( sfw ) they say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. if that’s the case, then that explains why kageyama only sees you.

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   :  kags' act of service — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : tobio craves your attention — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : vampire hunter!reader x vampire!kags — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : he responds to all your texts individually — ( sfw )

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈  ✩ ✭

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : domesticity with iwaizumi — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : shoujo concept with iwaizumi — ( sfw )

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender — ( sfw ) you never do get over your first love. / you fell first, he fell harder.

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : domesticity with suna — ( sfw )

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀  ✩ ✭

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : marriage of convenience with ushi — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : underground fighter ushi — ( sfw )

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles in every universe, it's still you — ( sfw ) in all the universes, in all the different versions of you and kuroo, you’re certain of two things: that he’s always a good person, and that you love him.

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : fake dating au — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : business school academic rivals to lovers — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : kuroo tweet — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : dad!kuroo is the best — ( sfw ) ✩✮   : single!mom reader x kuroo office romance — ( sfw )

multipart get him back! — ( nsfw ) so, in an attempt to get back at your ex - who posted a sex tape of himself cheating on you with your best friend - you decide that you’re going to upload your own film, and it’s going to be even hotter than theirs. you don’t anticipate your class’s teaching assistant being your co-star, especially considering that he’s the one who took your virginity, and after all was said and done, you ran out on him. but there’s no running from him now, especially whenever your tape does better than expected. now, you’re one of the hottest up and coming content creators on the platform, and the cash is too good to let this opportunity go to waste. what starts as a petty revenge scheme results in a lucrative business partnership with three simple rules: profits are split 50/50, all videos remain faceless, and this newfound partnership means absolutely nothing. just because you two fuck on a daily basis does not mean you’re friends, and you’re certainly not lovers. then again, things hardly ever are that simple.

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐀  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles paper rings — ( sfw ) shinsuke kita is a creature of habit.

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : influencer!reader x kita — ( sfw )

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles xoxo — ( nsfw ) just thinking about recreating the infamous maison margiela kiss button-down shirt for your boyfriend osamu

headcanons & concepts ✩✮   : the miya divide — ( sfw )

( 🏐 )  ⸺ 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈  ✩ ✭

one shots & drabbles everything's blurry but you — ( sfw ) barely in your baby twenties, and you think life is so over for you. then, while at rock bottom, you run into futakuchi, and realize that 1) he’s kinda pathetic, and 2) someone else’s pathetic-ness totally distracts you from your own. so, guess you two are in it together.

[thicctails]

I C R A V E more gbc au stuff: particularly with Bill: were the twins aware of Bill before gravity falls? what do they tell the twins about bill once they get there? how does bill and his parents even go about reconnecting?? I want to know more about the direct aftermath of the reunion. It's not hard to piece together Bill and Fords relationship from the journals: did they read into it the wrong direction or smth? Like Bill fucking traumatized Ford: Euclid and Scalene's estranged long lost son fucking severly traumatized and manipulated a realtive of their adoptive kids: there's gotta be more complex feelings there? Does Bill blame them for his medical trauma? do Scalene and Euclid regret that? did they have differing opinions on it back when? also like, now Bill is legit insane: what with him having been percieved insane or a ticking time bomb of insanity before how do they feel about that? do they have differeing opinions?????

FNSKJDFNSDKJ DSI C R A V E MORE FERERJSNJKFDNFKE

PLEASE FEED MEEEEE

Ask and ye shall r e c e i v e

Both Scalene and Euclid were under the impression that Bill died when Euclidea inevitably collapsed in on itself. They told Dipper and Mabel that they had a child, but never went into much detail, as it hurt too much to talk about.

(You can imagine how fucking gutted they were when they saw images of him all around the Shack. Journal 3 was just a big fat gob of salt in their open wounds)

Reconnecting for them is like a healing an infected wound: you have to cut out the rot, grit your teeth for the burn of cleaning it out, work to keep the infection away, and accept the fact that there will be a scar.

Bill is so fundamentally broken and mentally unwell that not even the Axolotl can really fix him. The best he can do is help Bill get to a point where he can begin again in a different form. But getting to that point is the real trouble. It's rotten work, a path laden with pain and suffering and hurt feelings, but it's the only option worth fighting for.

Scalene and Euclid feel immense guilt for the mistakes they made raising Bill. They allowed themselves to be pressured into trying to make their gifted son normal, and everyone they ever loved and then some ended up paying the price. Bill may have started the fire, but their misguided good intentions handed him the match.

Bill himself is a whirlwind of emotions. He is unexplainably relieved that his parents are alive, but that also means that he can no longer possess a false bravado and pretend he intentionally slaughtered his entire dimension. His past is red and blue and in his face, and the voices have only gotten louder since he saw his mother's heartbroken face. Not only that, but they have, in his eye, replaced him with two of the people destined to destroy him! They look at Shooting Star and Pinetree with all the fondness they used to look at him with, and it makes his insides burn.

They also are constantly setting off each other's triggers, like some kind of sick oroborus of trauma. Bill's powers often manifest as pyrokinesis, which isn't great when your parents are still living with the horrific injuries caused by said fire. On the other side of the coin, Euclid has been soothing the twins with gentle TV static since they were little, since his preferred method of manifestation is screen-based technology, (whereas Scalene prefers music and books) which has caused Bill to spiral into a violent panic attack more than once.

As for Ford... well, neither Cipher parent is fond of him, as i've stated, but while they don't know the entire story of how his and Bill's time together was, they know enough to know that it ended in violence and misery, and they are not so heartless that they do not feel pity for the man and disgust towards their son's actions. They make it very clear to their eldest, when they can stand to speak to each other, that he is to never possess another member of the Pines family.

He only breaks that promise once, though it was for a good reason. Gideon needed a good beat down, and Pine Tree was too hurt to make that jump without help.

[ladykailitha]

Amnesia AU

This is the story from this post! No monster AU

~

It’s Eddie’s senior year. His last year of high school (he hopes) and it’s been pretty shit. He’s lost two of the members of his band, his bassist and his drummer. The former because his parents had the big brained idea to move in his senior year. The other because she got a boyfriend.

It’s a cold, rainy, and dark as pitch night and Wayne’s off on the swing shift. He’s trying to decide which wall to put his head through from boredom when there is a knock on his door.

Eddie frowns and gets up. He didn’t hear a car, but with the rain beating on the metal roof, it’s possible he just didn’t hear it.

He opens it to an absolutely soaked to the skin Steve Harrington. He looks like a kicked puppy. Eddie peers into the gloom but doesn’t see any of the other boy’s cronies so he says, “Not selling today, Harrington.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m–” thunder drowns out the rest of his words.

“Jesus fuck!” Eddie curses. “You should come in before you drown out there.”

But Steve shakes his head. “I just want to say that I have a crush on you and I really, really like you.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment and what he says next will haunt him for a very long time. “Thanks, I guess. But I really don’t swing that way.”

*narrator voice: he did in fact swing that way, he just didn’t know it yet*

Steve already sad face falls further. “I should leave.”

“You don’t want to come in, man,” Eddie huffs, “at least stay in your car until this blows over. It’s not safe out there.”

Steve raises his head. “Oh I didn’t bring my car.”

Eddie blue screens. “Loch Nora ain’t anywhere near Forest Hills.”

“It is if you don’t use the roads.”

And with that very enigmatic sentence Steve turns on his heel and slinks off into the dark.

Eddie tries calling out to him, but by the time he jams his feet into his boots and hauls on his jacket, Steve is long gone.

When Wayne comes home, Eddie asks if he saw someone walking on the side of the road, but Wayne says no.

As soon as the weather slackens they both go out in search of Steve, but they can’t find him. So they go to the police and Eddie is broken up by the whole thing. He should have pressed Steve or even lied about liking him just to get him out of the rain.

It becomes a nine day wonder in Hawkins but other than a couple of news reports by a local station, it never gains much attention.

Something Eddie really should have seen as a red flag. The other red flag was how much the Harringtons and cops pushed the story of Eddie doing something to Steve. Despite all the evidence saying it couldn’t have been him.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and Eddie graduates by the skin of his teeth. He goes up to Indy for the music scene and while he’s under age, the bars let him play because he keeps the customers happy.

Those months turn into two years. Two years since Steve Harrington walked into the gloomy of a rainy Indiana night and never returned.

Eddie gets a gig at a new bar.

The bartender is nice, hazel eyes, honey colored hair, and two moles on the left side of his neck.

The name tag reads Aaron. Says he’s recently turned twenty-one and recently got this job.

So Eddie leaves it alone. If “Aaron” is hiding out for some reason, he doesn’t want to spook the guy.

But the more he talks to Aaron the more Eddie realizes he doesn’t remember. Anything. Well anything before he woke up in hospital with no wallet, no keys, and no memories. The trucker who found him on the side of the road just out of Hawkins decided if this kid was so desperate to get out of town that he would walk the interstate at night in the pouring rain, then he deserved to get out of town.

He picked the name Aaron himself and the McDonald from his first meal.

Eddie knows who this is now. There is no doubt this is Steve Harrington. And he is not twenty-one. So he calls up Hopper. The only cop in Hawkins that never believed Eddie had anything to do with Steve’s disappearance.

Tells him to start digging into the Harringtons because something really stinks. He doesn’t bring up Aaron, but tells him that he met someone who saw Steve walking the interstate that night.

Hopper tries to tell him he’s retired now. But he doesn’t mean it. This is the case that made him realize the job wasn’t about helping people but kowtowing to the rich. He always suspected the Harringtons had more to do with that boy’s disappearance then Eddie did.

Meanwhile, Aaron and Eddie start falling in love, Eddie having realized he was gay the year before. Aaron tells him of these dreams where he is trying to escape a large empty building from a man wielding a shotgun and screaming at him that if he’s caught, he’s dead.

Then Aaron starts getting really bad headaches. Like tens on the pain scale headaches. So they go and see his doctor. They run scans but can’t find anything wrong.

But after a bad attack, Aaron sinks a difficult basketball shot. Something he’s never been able to do before, but Steve Harrington could.

Then more stuff that’s Steve starts coming through. Being a little more sassy. A little more bitchy. He starts remembering people and places from Hawkins.

Then he remembers Eddie.

Not the night in question, though Eddie is upfront about that and why he didn’t bring it up.

Aaron is a little upset, but understands that if Eddie had said something sooner he wouldn’t have believed him.

Then Eddie gets the call. Hopper has the Harrington dead to rights. But if he could find a body or even Steve it would make the case air tight.

That’s when Eddie decides for the three of them to meet.

Eddie and Hopper meet up at the diner and as they’re talking, Hopper facing the bathroom, with Eddie on the other side.

It’s so he can see Hopper’s face when Steve Aaron Harrington walks out of the bathroom with the biggest fucking grin on his face.

Steve explains everything, the amnesia, the living in Indy, meeting Eddie.

Hopper is over the moon.

The Harringtons go to jail for assault of a minor, child endangerment, and child abandonment.

Steve and Eddie move in together and Eddie helps him get his GED and sort out his life.

[hoony2k]

Is jake here?

Shakespeare says "tis was written in the stars before they even met"

-You're lost in life and move to Seoul where you find your peace in a boy. Jake's in a band and is looking for a girl he's been obsessed with ever since she appeared in his dream. You're both broken but maybe you can learn to be better through each other.

Pairing: Sim Jaeyun x reader

Genre: scott pilgrim au!, band au!, set in 2000s, he's kinda silly.

Cast: Sunghoon, jay, sumin (stayc)

Warning: reader smokes once :(

Word Count: 2k

Notes: this is for neo127's event! this was genuinely so fun to write, thank you for the fun event! this is actually a deleted scene that I love sm, i wanted to be so poetic but i had to stop my demons cause this is a movie with tom foolery and deep meaning. also i'm kind of stupid and saved this in drafts and not queue.

masterlist

Take 1

There was a ringing in Jake’s mind that alerted him of the dangers awaiting him, but the allure of your presence removed all prior warnings. You came into his life like a dream, filled the hollow void in his soul. None of his past attempts at experiencing euphoria or reaching infinity worked, but with you around entertaining his unfunny jokes, he was consumed by the black hole in one clean swoop.

In other terms, you were the little riff he needed in the song, the extra healing ability granted to his game characters, you were a dream. The warning, the future and the rest was history. It was only you and him in the whole universe. By your side, Jake finally felt like the world wasn’t against him.

Or so he thought.

Seven little exes, not seven little kisses.

Take 2

Jake forced his body to move. “Left right, left right”, he mumbled and mechanically trudged up the stairs, bumping into drunk partygoers without an apology. He caught a glimpse of you the other day and he prayed the next time you saw him he’d be taller and looked way cooler, not desperate or down bad at all. Hopefully, he’d find the courage to approach you in privacy. It had been ages of simply dreaming about you.

Not even the buzz of the party could get your eyes and nonchalant expression out of Jake’s mind. The thirst to reunite left him dry to the bone and in dire need of the washroom due to pure boredom sparked by the party. His drink sploshed in the red up, spilt over the rim and onto the cuff of his new jacket. He winced at the sticky and cold sensation.

At this point, he was willing to manifest you into appearing.

Jake reached the landing and felt Comeau call out to him. “Wanna drink with us?”

He shook his head and slightly pouted. “No, I don’t drink”.

Comeau frowned at him, “What do you mean you don’t drink?”

Jake offered a non-committed shrug and lightly waved his arm around.

“This is just iced coffee”.

His friend’s frown deepened. “What does that mean? I distinctively remember you being drunk-”

“Hey you know everyone, right?”, Jake swiftly brushed off the memory and swayed Comeau by the compliment. “You know this one girl with hair like this?”

His pout was replaced with a determined look and pulled out crumpled paper with a poorly sketched one-lined drawing of what appeared to be a face with no evident features or expressions. There was no possible way to understand the scribble immediately.

His friend rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know her. That’s Y/N-“

God was real. The universe loved him and perhaps this was good karma for all the okay things he had done in life. His friend continued to ramble trivia about you but it all flew over Jake’s head until he heard I heard she was going to be here tonight and it brought heat back into his veins. All it took were those mere words to become the catalyst of his insanity.

Jake dove into the crowd, and took in the sight of numerous strangers with unfamiliar hairstyles and smiles. He searched for your dyed hair in the crowd and despite unsteady breathing and shaking hands due to anticipation and nervousness, his gaze met your frame leaning on a wall. Hair pink instead of blue and you were alone holding a cup which served as a friend. You appeared bored out of your mind, glancing at the drunk bodies dancing around in bliss. Jake wondered asking you if you wanted a refill.

He slid on the dirty wallpapered wall and inch close to you. As he felt heat radiate off your body, he took it as a sign to halt. Though he tried to be subtle, his desperation to talk to you poured down his body in a giant tidal wave. Jake turned his honey eyes to your figure, it was party concealed under his locks that covered an eye. You stared right at him.

“Do you like pac man?”, the words stumbled out of his lips before he realised.

What? No-no, that’s not-

You gave him a slight nod then shifted your attention back to the crowd. Uncommitted but it did not discourage him.

He shuffled closer to you; the creases of his oversized jacket bumped into the bag strap on your shoulder. You didn't move away.

Jake cheered internally; this was going well.

Jake took it as a sign to continue. He puffed his chest out. “You know the original name for Pac-Man was Puck-Man. Not because he looks like a hockey puck. But it's Paku Paku. Means flap your mouth."

He planned on offering you a detailed history of the game, a topic that the pair of you apparently shared and enjoyed. That was before you placed your full untouched cup on a table and turned to him.

He hadn't realised you moved to look up at him.

"But they thought people would scratch out the "p" and turn it into an "f" like-"

Jake's voice died in his throat and his eyes blinked at the intensity of your gaze. You stared up at him with calm wisdom, hiding all the secrets in the world in your gaze.

He observed how there was a thin sheen of sweat on your hairline despite the cold season of decay. With so many bodies running, dancing and chatting away, the house was bound to get humid.

Jake could barely hear your voice over the thump thump of his heartbeat. The tips of your hair that clung onto the apples of your cheek moved when you spoke.

You took a step closer to him and whatever confidence he had evaporated. Jake fumbled with the end of his jacket and then promptly shoved his hands inside his pockets.

You did not look displeased at the sight, in fact, nothing changed in your eyes but Jake swore he saw a hint of a small smile. However, his fear and nerves got the best of him.

"I'm going to leave you alone forever now-"

"Wanna get out of here?"

Take 3

The sky was dark again. The winter nights crept up quickly, shunning the sun away but Jake liked it.

He liked how the night sky reminded him of you, the simple serene moments spent either in silence or secrecy.

You brought light into his life. It was dark elsewhere.

He saw a shadow of a figure dressed in several jackets a couple of feet away and only when he walked closer did he realise who it was.

"What are you doing here?", he called out to you, referring to the time.

You quirked up an unamused brow.

"Dude, I was waiting for you."

Immediately Jake felt apologetic. And maybe a bit pathetic that he came late (on time) to the hangout (unofficial official date). Or maybe he felt giddy knowing you didn't show your nervous attitude yet cared deeply enough for him to arrive on time.

"I'm sorry. I thought you assumed you were too cool to arrive on time", he confessed. It was easier with you.

He didn't have to lie about where he went like how he did whenever Sunghoon asked him about his whereabouts or skirt around in conversations where Sumin decided to target him (all for reasons that proved he deserved it).

He didn't need to pretend he was someone better, a moralistic ideal version of himself or someone worse, an edgy rockstar who had a strange code of rules to live by.

With you, Jake could be transparent. All his unpolished edges, raw mistakes and life missteps were seen and never judged.

You were like him and he was like you.

Maybe there was a reason he saw you in his dreams long before. Maybe the two of you were interconnected in a cosmic way. He didn't know.

You looked at him up and down before turning and beginning to walk near the middle of the park.

"Well, you were wrong".

Jake quickly walked beside you and fell into the same rhythm. "Do you wanna get a bite? Or watch a movie? We could get pizza before watching something. We could flip through the records I have at home".

You gently shook your head and Jake couldn't help but pout at your dismissal.

"What's wrong?" He asked, too impatient.

You sighed softly; air comes out in puffs of smoke.

You point at nearby empty swings. The chain was rustic and seems strong enough to carry two adults.

"Follow me", you whispered in the late night. There was no one around. The park was deserted, filled with snow to the brim. The swing seats squeaked when you brushed off the sleeping snow from them.

Jake sniffled, shoved his hands in his pockets once more. He didn't mind the silence until it stretched on for more than a minute, maybe...maybe it was less but Jake hated silence.

"This is nice", he shuffled and lightly kicked his feet off the ground. The metal shrieked and he swayed back and forth.

You nodded and mimicked his actions.

"This is nice".

Jake turned to look at you once more. He noticed how often he'd stare at you only to look away when you caught his gaze. There was something that had been on his mind for days. He tip toed towards the topic.

"So, why'd you come to Seoul?"

Immediately you look down at your shoes, then swing yourself higher than before.

"I wanted a change of scenery. Needed a reset and got a job here so I thought, why not?"

It was an honest reply.

The sound of gravel grabbed his attention, the metal squeaked again and you paused the pendulum to fish out an item from your pocket.

He had to squint in the minimal lighting and Jake had to hold in his surprise as you pulled out a cigarette and lit it easily.

A hand covered your lips and the tip of the cigarette, the small flame decorated the end of your nose and chin in a scarlet hue. Jake stared at you in awe, doe eyes widened.

"You smoke?", he couldn't help it. You did wonders at surprising him each time you met.

You inhaled it slowly and turned from Jake's direction to blow the air. Two fingers toyed with the cigarette.

"On special occasions". Your lips stretched a bit and Jake saw how the gloss shone under the moonlight. God, he was doomed from the start.

He didn't mind the bounce in his voice, he tiled his position and brought his swing next to yours until the metal chains halted him. The scent of slight smoke and your citrus perfume filled his senses.

It felt like he was on stage once more, guitar in his hands, flicking away at the strings with inhuman speed. He felt the high he experienced on stage; the surge of emotions that made him giddy. He tapped his foot unconsciously, imitating the vibrations the band would feel when Sumin hit her drums.

"Is this a special occasion?"

Your eyes hadn't stranded him and his lovesick expression finally pulled a laugh out of you. You were satisfied when you moved to Seoul, but the buds in your stomach began to blossom, Jake made you crave for more than satisfactory.

"I don't know. You tell me", you teased him and Jake's smile got wider. His eyes crinkled adorably and you could see the gums of his teeth with how wide he was smiling.

Then, for a split second, something flashed in his eyes, something serious. It paused your arm mid-way from bringing the cigarette to your lips.

Jake averted his gaze, his dark brown bangs covered his face from view, and you could only see the tip of his tall nose and his red ears. Perhaps from the cold, perhaps from you.

He took a deep breath.

"When I'm around you, I kind of feel like I'm on drugs. Not that I do drugs. Unless you do drugs, in which case I do them all the time."

When he finished, Jake turned to you and the poor swing squeaked once more. His face was determined, shoulders no longer hunched like usual but his eyes wavered, swam across your form to see a hint of disgust or discomfort from you.

You laughed in his face.

"Hey!", Jake shouted and it echoed in the night.

Loud laughter bubbled from your lips, you tried to hide your mouth behind your free hand but Jake quickly grabbed it so he could defend himself. Seeing how delighted you were, your entire body buzzing with giggles, Jake felt himself relax and giggle with you. Though he didn't let go of your arm.

He saw the fallen cigarette on the ground, you probably forgot about it when you began to chuckle. He leaned forward and stepped on it.

When he landed his attention on you, you were more composed but the shaking did not stop. It was a futile attempt at covering your glee, Jake was obsessed, he was probably feeling the L-word (love) as well but he wasn't sure.

Though he understood from all the times he couldn't concentrate in practice and Sunghoon or Jay would have to call his name loudly to pull him out of daydreams of you and back to reality, when Sumin stopped questioning his intentions with you and replaced her usual indifferent glares with mild fascination, Jake knew he felt something more than like for you. He felt like he was hypnotised by your melody, your casual demeanour, overflowing confidence and assured attitude. It sucked him in from the night he dreamt of you.

Jake's hand slithered down from the curve of your elbow and slipped into the warmth of your hand. Your laughter had finally ceased, now replaced with a tender look. Jake smiled like he had never done before. You interlocked your fingers together and squeezed him palm.

It would be okay, the future would be more than okay-probably. He'd still have to go to practice, get yelled at by his sister and then get yelled at other bands when Sunghoon irked them on purpose. Maybe he'd have to eventually confront your seven exes. Nothing about you was simple, everything was too intricate, it was like he had entered a game and had to win all rounds before getting crowned "official boyfriend".

But it was more than okay because Jake knew you were worth it-you liked him and he liked you. There were no mind games, this was the simplest love he had experienced. He couldn’t stop thinking of you and you couldn’t stop ringing his landline. By your side, Jake concluded that even if he wasn’t the strongest, he’d figure out a way and fight the world for you.

Thank you for reading. Please do not edit/translate

[writingforatwistedworld]

just thought of something random — shower thoughts. So, you know how even if you score 0 on twistunes it still counts as “clearing it”? Imagine you doing that with a self aware au. to make it funny, how about riddle, Vil, and Sebek

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, self-destructive behavior, violence, abusive behavior, unhealthy lifestyle, murder, religion, obsessive themes

Riddle Rosehearts/Vil Schoenheit/Sebek Zigvolt-Scoring 0 whilst playing Twistunes

Here you are, our (perhaps) determined twistunes player, usually (or maybe not) trying your best

And that is fine and dandy and lalala happy happy

The TWST cast, however, doesn't see the twistunes as rhythm mini games though

For them, you are guiding them in some sort of task, not hearing the huge orchestra that appeared out of nowhere

There is always your guiding hand, reassuring that things go right even when a certain feline (*cough* not looking at you Grim*cough*) decides to act all high and mighty

Until, one day, there you are not helping anymore

Another splendid day to do your most splendid bidding... in the form of baking a cake

Yeah, I know, what daunting task you have layed upon him!

But he know he doesn't need to worry. After all, you are there to help him (not like his magic could do that for him in one second I mean come on there has to be a spell to crack some eggs and spill some milk ISN'T SLEEPING BEAUTY CANON OVER THERE??!)

He picks up the whisk... and nothing

Ok... maybe you just weren't looking! So he puts it down and then picks it up again

Nothing… Aren't you funny! Messing with him like that… (No pls help he is dying on the inside has he broken a rule? He followed rule 199 perfectly, wear blue if you need to whisk eggs)

One second later and he is panicking

This is a test, right?

If you could look through the coding on the other side you would see a panicking riddle who is this close to setting the kitchen on fire

At least that is the case until Trey finally steps in and decides to help his childhood friend out

After everything is finally over, Riddle is panicking

He has lost your favor, you didn't help him with this mighty task: shoving dough into an oven

Riddle will without any question learn how to bake cakes

Heartslabyul will eat salty snacks after dinner for a while but ok, unlike other things Riddle has done in your name this is rather tame

That does not mean he is kind to himself though

He will deprive himself of anything that makes him happy. Whether that is cake or his precious time with his friends

Sooner than later he is once more the red tyrant on his throne, “chopping” heads off all the time once more.

But everything but imperfection for you

Vil was just practicing dancing for that competition again

He took great pride in being guided by you

After all, who could say they were being taught dancing by the personification of perfection itself? (Although he was surprised that you knew modern dances, most of the time you were pictured in more traditional and old-fashioned settings)

Until suddenly you didn't guide him anymore

And thus, the floor and Vils face became very good acquaintances (You could hear Rook screaming from somewhere "Pas le visage!")

On that day Vil learned that your guidance had one up and downside

The up was, he always danced perfectly. The down, he forgot how to do it on his own

Now, we are talking about mister I-have-at-least-500-Thaumarks-on-my-face-in-makeup

So of course he is going overboard immediately

"Oh how nice, Vil Schoenheit is practicing"- No. This guy has gotten a warning from his doctor that he needs to stop because otherwise his legs could sustain damage from so much training

Epel? Well Epel is living in hell right now. Poor little apple gets the full brunt of his frustration

Overall, Vil gets toxic, and I don't mean just toxic but toxic toxic, but what about his more private life?

Well, he is just miserable, and horrible to himself, but most of all miserable

He turns back to his self before his overblot, being unnervingly perfect, having absolutely no chill when it's about being his best self

But there has to be a reason why you have abandoned him. You are his muse, the reason why he forced Epel into a routine that can only be described with "uh... help?"

But enough excuses! He had his salad and now he needs to train. His doctor? Well his doctor doesn't want to achieve being close to you so what does he know

(He got send into the hospital with a broken leg later that day. Talk about self-destructive behavior)

(ouch, my ears)

Let's assume that Sebek gets a twistune in which he practices his skills with the sword

He thought you were proud of him, you helping him to become stronger so he could fulfill your bidding (well-seasoned yandere readers what I mean)

Then, he felt your guidance slipping like the sword now sticking dangerously close to his foot in the ground

Many screams, one description: panic

When Lilia heard the not so crocodile-y crocodile scream bloody murder on the outside he thought that someone just didn't speak fondly enough for Sebek about Malleus

So wannabe Batman was more than surprised when he learned that you just “abandoned” his student

This leads to now, Sebek sitting in front of the small altar he has in his room (a trademark of Valley of Roses students)

Seek isn't Malleus (I know, shockers) so there isn't gold

But what if there is something different he can offer you? You left him when he was using his sword so could you want… (No Sebek, no, stop it)

Suddenly disappearances happen all over the school

Weirdly, they seem mostly from Sunset Savanna or the Shaftlands… the two places where you are least seen as an alrighty ruler/God and more as an inspiration

Such a shame that the officer hired to look into this was also from the Shaftlands. Guess that adds to the pile of disappearances

All whilst this is happening Sebek is busy cleaning his clothing and sword. Can't be dirty when he prays to you

With hope in his voice he tells you about his deeds but why aren't you coming back? Is it not enough? It's not.. enough…

This world is filthy, he says. This world needs to be cleaned of the pests that don't show you the loyalty and respect, he says.

But what do you say? Exactly. Nothing.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the busted engine

lilac, chapter one

a/n: the plot of this series came to me like fucking lightning, essentially all at once with how quick it fell into place. sometimes it's like that, sometimes magic happens in your brain. I hope you all enjoy this ride as much as I am having writing it. get ready for everything, because I've got twenty chapters planned out and ready, and spoiler, they aren't all just gonna be insanely wholesome small town cuteness... we getting angsty... we getting the drama.... but most of all, we be getting slutty. strap in folks.

summary: “I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, car trouble, meet cute

word count: 2674

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Your vision couldn’t help but linger every time it drifted over your hands gripping the steering wheel. The immense weight the sight of your bare ring finger lifted off your shoulders was so overwhelming that you found yourself fighting tears from blurring the road before you. 

The sun was beginning to set as you had been driving all day long, not stopped for even a second to let the gravitas sink in of what you’d done at the crack of dawn. 

The fear of Preston stirring from his slumber and finding you in the midst of sneaking out still hadn’t settled within your gut. Your paranoid brain still compelled you to check the rear-view mirror every couple of seconds just in case the sleek sportscar of your former fiancé would appear.

You had finally done what he had drilled into your mind you weren’t capable of. You’d left him for good. 

Equipped with only a small backpack of your belongings, the last thing you’d done before sneaking out of the apartment had been to toss the ring he had so insistently forced upon your finger into the trash. 

Ripping you out of your cloudy thoughts, your car suddenly began to cough like a mythical monster that was dying. 

“Oh shit…” you felt the vehicle begin to slow as ominous smoke started to billow out from under the hood. Mindful of the bushy pine trees framing the road, you guided it to the edge just in time before it gave out. 

Stepping out with an exhausted sigh, you promptly cracked the front open to take a look, though what you saw within didn’t soothe your worries as all of the fumes oozing out only made the broken engine look like that much more of a mess. 

“Fucking great,” you mumbled heatedly, fiercely slamming the hood shut in an effort to relieve some of your abundant stress. Curving back around, you swung the passenger side open and rummaged for your phone, though when you located it, the only solution it flashed you was a blinking red battery icon before the screen went completely black, “seriously?” 

Not knowing if you were about to scream or burst into tears, you chucked it back inside before hurling your spine against the side of the car, leaning against it as you cursed up at the grey sky. 

Was this the universe showing its true bias? You’d hoped that was the one thing money couldn’t buy, but perhaps you were wrong, just like he always said you were. Perhaps it would be best if you went back to the city. His reaction towards a stunt like this couldn’t be that bad compared to what you had endured before, could it? 

The sound of another vehicle cresting the thicket on the rural road caught your ears and you turned your head to see a navy-blue truck appear.

Your hand shot up to wave it down before you could even ponder the action. Fearing that it was a lost cause by the speed the driver was going at, it caught you by surprise as it suddenly came to a halt a ways in front of you. 

“Are you alright, ma'am?” the driver asked as he slammed his door shut behind him. The tall man certainly looked like the type to call the area his home. Dark beard scraggly and hair in unkept waves long enough to tickle the furrow lines decorating his forehead, his wide palm traced the lines of the truck as he made his way towards you.

“I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

Eyeing your busted vehicle a moment, his low timbre then rumbled out once more, “sure,” as he reached into his pocket and fished out his telephone.

“Thank you so much,” seizing it, you swiftly clicked it to life, “you have no idea what a lifesaver you are–, oh fuck,” your vision zeroed in on the lack of bars in the uppermost corner, “of course there’s no fucking services out here,” your eyes briefly screwed shut and your jaw clenched in an effort not to scream, “it’s fine, it’s fine! I’ll just walk then!” you tried not the throw it as you handed the phone back to the helpful stranger, “I’m sorry that you had to stop for nothing, but thank you anyways.”

Swinging your door open to yank out your stuff, the stranger’s feet stayed fast, “what direction are you headed?” 

“Dunbrook,” you answered as your body folded to reach your tossed telephone.

“You wanna catch a ride?” he unexpectedly offered, causing you to bump your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow–, what?” you blinked back at him through the windshield as your hand shot up to rub the top of your now sore head, “no, I couldn’t… I–, uh, I kinda recognise this area, the town is not too far from here, so I can walk, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, but it’ll properly still take you all night. Please, it’s no bother, I’m headed in that direction anyways.” 

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you slowly retracted out of the vehicle, “you sure?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, attempting a faint smile in order to soften his gruff and intimidating features. 

“Alright,” swinging your backpack on you slammed your busted car shut, “thank you.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, you clicked on the seatbelt and slotted your bag between your legs. Fiddling tensely with the straps for a moment, it dawned on you how your sleeves were still rolled all the way up to your elbows from when you had checked under the hood. Pulse instantly picking up and thumping in your ears, you hastily tugged them back down to cover the lavender bruises peaking out. 

Had he noticed?

Hearing the door slam to your left, being too caught up in your own mess, it only caused your form to jump in the seat.

Trying to play it off as nothing, you attempted a casual, “I’m Y/n by the way,” though your voice came out much more strangled than you’d intended. 

Catching your flickering eye a moment before turning the key, he likewise enlightened, “Pete.” 

Your bottom lip didn’t escape the prison of your teeth the entire ride, gnawing subconsciously at it as you purposely stare out at the wild flora you passed in order to not look at the advantageous stranger. 

Though after you passed the crooked sign welcoming you back to your small hometown, Pete’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“So, where can I drop you off?”

“The inn,” you turned your head to inform him, “the Lilac Inn, if you know where that is.”

“Yeah, I know it,” he nodded, sucking in a knowing breath as if he didn’t need any more information to figure you out, “so you’re a tourist? One of those nature people who come out here to hike or something?”

“Not exactly,” was all the explanation you offer as you watched the familiar scenery come into view. 

Dunbrook. To call it a town was very generous indeed as the whole population could properly fit under the same roof if they really wanted to, and they often did. The rolling fields of wildlife that surrounded the village also divided and broke up the infrastructure of the old settlement, causing most of the homes and businesses to not all the clustered together as you had grown accustomed to seeing after moving to a metropolis as vast as New York. 

Every familiar structure rolling by evoked memories long ago buried and forgotten. The corner where you fell learning how to ride a bike. The quaint general store where you once stole a lollipop, walked for all of 48 seconds before turning right back and apologising to the owner with tears in your eyes. But most of all, the large Victorian structure at the bottom of the tiny town by far held the fondest of memories in your heart. 

The dust puffed up around the truck as you rolled down the narrow dirt road, the bushy lilac trees that flourished all over the property haven not quite yet come into bloom, yet still forewarned your destination that already peaked over the tops. 

“Here it is,” Pete exhaled as the car came to a stop before the vast veranda, “the Lilac Inn.” 

Eyes glued to your childhood home, you stepped out of the truck, “thank you,” slamming the door shut, you turned to add awkwardly through the rolled down window, “and also thank you for not turning out to be an axe murderer or something,” a nervous laugh swiftly bubbling out at the notion.

Glancing back at your bumbling form, he simply flashed you a tight-lipped smile and said, “you have a good trip, ma'am.” 

“You too–, I mean, you have a good, uhm, rest of your life,” you fumbled as your feet slowly backed up, “it was nice meeting you, Pete.” 

“Yeah, you too,” he just managed to reply before you spun your mortified flush away from his stare and scurried up the steps of the porch. 

Pushing the creaky, stained glass adorn front door open, you tiptoed inside. 

The lighting dim and the atmosphere nothing short of comforting, a smile finally bloomed upon your lips as you let out the breath you’d been holding for who knows how long. 

Peeking around the corner into one of the sitting rooms, you only spotted one patron sitting by the small round table next to the crackling fireplace, working away at a puzzle. Either the others had gone to bed already or this fellow was the only one staying here. 

“Excuse me,” you gently interrupted from the archway, “would you happen to know where the owner, Harvey, is–”

Though before you managed to get out the remainder of the sentence, a bustle from the kitchen answered your question for you, “every time I forget to whisk long enough and every time I say it’s gonna be different, but this time I mean it!”

Sharing a knowing look with the guest, you chuckle, “never mind…” 

“This time I won't just stop when my arm feels like it’s gonna fall off,” even though it was clear he was talking to himself, his usual vibrato still carried, “oh no, no, you just wait and see how light and fluffy you turn out this time, cake!” 

Poking your head through the ajar door, you spotted the familiar greying man grumbling into the contents of the bowl he was furiously beating with a whisk. 

“Dad?”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, your father gasped, whisk jolting upright as he laid his eyes upon you, subsequently splattering some batter across the kitchen, back near the sink, “Y/n?” he exclaimed, his eyes growing to the size of saucers, “is that really you? Is my little baby girl really standing in my kitchen or is this a hallucination?”

“Hi,” your head tilted in a soft chuckle. 

Staring at you as if you were just a newborn puppy, “oh, come here, munchkin and give your pops a hug!” the moustachioed man’s arms went wide and pulled you in, dropping whisk still in his hand as he blubbered into your hair, “ah, I’ve missed you so much,” squeezing your form in the magical way that only parents could, “I haven’t heard from you in, well I don’t even know how long, that’s how long and if you ask me then that’s too long,” he pulled back, cupping your cheek as he gazed at you, “you don’t write, you don’t call.”

“Not true, I do write,” you corrected him light-heartedly, “and you don’t have a cellphone.” 

“Well, there’s the telephone out in reception, why would I need more?” he shrugged, lending you to then slip out of his grip, swiftly boosting your own form to hop onto one of the empty counters, “also, your last letter was 10 months ago.” 

“No, it wasn’t, was it?” you gasped, thinking back.

“You can check the date, they’re still in the cookie tin up there,” he gestured to one of the top shelves before reuniting the whisk in his grip with the large bowl on the table. 

Only briefly glancing up at the enamel box, you already knew that you didn’t wanna revisit them. However vague the letters were, which they always were, you were still certain that they’d have the power to send you right back there into Preston’s iron fist, even though you’d never even mentioned him once in all the years you’d been with him. They only ever really contained small talk and pleasantries, never about something so personal as to whom you were dating, but you also didn’t share at all as things took a turn for the worse, when you were in so deep that you felt like you couldn’t escape. Perhaps it was out of pride, perhaps it was to shield him from the truth, or maybe even in a way yourself, not admitting to the fiend you had welcomed into your own bed, creating some false reality as a coping mechanism. 

Averting your gaze, you then uttered softly, “I’m really sorry dad,” gliding your right thumb over the jagged edge of the counter as you gripped onto it with both fists.

“Ah, it’s fine,” he waved a hand, “you’re young, out there living your life. You shouldn’t have to check in with your father every few seconds. I am aware that you’re 29 after all. Although, you know I wouldn’t be a pose to just a little bit more…” he winked, playfully bumping the side of his hip against your shin before picking up the speed of the whisk once more, “so, did I forget it’s my birthday or did you just miss your old man?” his jovial glance flickered between you and the batter. 

“Can I stay here a while? I just need some place to,” lay low, “figure things out, you know?”

Whisk halting, his gaze upon you grew in concern, “of course you can, honey. Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay, I just–, uh… needed a change,” not looking him in the eye, you spoke, “I don’t know to where or what I’m gonna do next, but I do know that I don’t wanna go back,” you felt a lump of emotion swell up in your throat, “and I won’t just stay here for free, I’ll pay you rent,” you tried to appease the stubborn sensation of being a nuance to everyone, even to your own kin, “though I don’t really have any money right now, so I’d have to get a job first, but that’s fine, I’ll figure something out–” 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” your father cut you off, “you can stay here as long as you want, it never stopped being your home even when you moved away. Still keep your room exactly the same, just in case,” he offered you a warm smile, his silver moustache stretching wider, “how about you just give me a hand around here, huh?” 

“Alright,” you exhaled, “deal.”

His grin turning more mischievous, he then noted slyly, “you know I’ve always dreamed of you taking over this place one day, running the family business…” 

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled, “not this again…”

“Just think about, you could–”

“Dad, I’m not gonna take over the inn! Running a place like this isn’t what it used to be back when your parents opened it up. You might have always been dead set on taking over it, but I haven’t.”

“I know, I know,” he gracefully backed down again as he always did, “you want adventure, isn’t that what you called it when you went away for college?” 

Adventure… it was that kind of philosophy that had sent an innocent young girl into the arms of a devil…

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[freezingmcxn]

hey.. how you doing.. can you maybe make a lil thingy about toby like you did with the eyeless jack thing I'm just really focused on Toby right know idk why but like write it however you want I just want to see your writing on how you rhing he looks and acts take your time you dont even have to do it I love you I love you i love you I love you I love you I love you I lovw you

TOBY ROGERS APPEARANCE (AU)

AHH YES I CAN my motivation is so bad but these always make me really happy and are easy to write so OFC ILY!!

Toby’s hair is a pale, sun-bleached brown, almost blonde, falling to his neck and curling around his ears.

Naturally curly, his hair has become dry and unkempt from bathing in river water and using cheap soap. His curls puff out, lacking any defined shape.

Occasionally, in a fit of frustration, he shaves it all off or trims it, often in a dingy ass gas station bathroom, depending on how much he despises it at the time.

Standing around 5’7” (5’8” in boots), Toby’s constant slouching makes him look as if he might topple over at any moment.

His most noticeable feature is the gash on his mouth, though it’s not as large as one might think.

The wound is just big enough to expose his upper teeth, which are rotted and decayed. Despite its size, the injury reeks of infection, with pus occasionally oozing from the diseased tissue.

Toby often picks at it, making the wound larger over time.

Originally, it was a small bite he inflicted on himself, but his constant fiddling turned it into the gaping wound it is now.

He no longer bites at it, disgusted by the taste of his own decaying flesh. He usually covers it with a large plaster—often supplied by Jack or just lets the air hit it, depending on his mood really.

Toby has a small gold hoop earring in his left ear, a relic from a day when he and Lyra decided to pierce it with a needle. He didn’t feel the pain but kept the earring all these years, occasionally fiddling with it as a reminder of her.

His trusty hatchets dangle from a hardware belt around his waist, always clattering when he moves, a sound he makes sure to emphasise because he knows it irritates people.

The hatchets are mismatched, one is large with a dark oak handle, carved with doodles, while the other is smaller, with a plastic handle, but much sharper—often the one he uses for the first hit.

Both handles are wrapped in duct tape, one of his go-to solutions for everything.

Toby’s skin is sallow, marked by long exposure to the sun. Freckles and moles speckle his body.

His hands are scarred and battered, with half of his left pinky finger missing, and his right hand covered in self-inflicted bite marks. His palms are calloused, his nails ragged—some bruised black, others completely gone.

His teeth are a mess—sharp, chipped, and broken, with gaps where some have been knocked out from fights or lost to decay.

Toby doesn’t bother brushing his teeth, as he often forgets or simply doesn’t care. Eating people doesn’t help either, wrecking his teeth further.

He typically wears the same tattered hoodie for as long as he can stand it, only washing it at a laundromat when absolutely necessary (when it’s bloody and stinky).

He also has an old Joy Division t-shirt layered over a white long-sleeve, both full of holes, though Toby doesn’t mind, he wears it on warmer days.

He’s been wearing the same pair of jeans for five years, patching them up whenever needed—he’s surprisingly good at sewing thanks to Lyra.

On his feet are either old Timberland boots, once his father’s, now worn with a hole in the sole, or a beat-up pair of red Converse, duct-taped at the top.

He alternates between them.

Toby owns a fleece jacket, fingerless gloves, and two beanies—one grey and one black.

The black one is torn and faded, but he likes the way it adds to his look.

He carries everything in a worn blue Jansport backpack he once stole from a kid at a bus stop, where he rams all his clothes and supplies.

I think that’s enough 😭😭 I rambled I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say too much because I fear he won’t be as interesting but yeah! Hope you like him :)

[laviefantasie]

[ Just Keep Swimming ]

Pairings: CEO! Gojo Satoru x Florist! Reader ; Lawyer! Naoya Zenin x Florist! Reader

Summary: The worst and best thing that could ever happen to you is falling in love. You were living proof of it. (based on “It Ends With Us”)

| Masterlist |

[ WARING TAGS: Modern!AU, no curse magic,, hurt/comfort, angst, domestic violence, violence, assault, sexual content, manipulation, gaslighting, blood, swearing ]

⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊

You were six the first time you saw it happen. You were ten when you first understood what it meant. You were fifteen when you first begged your mom with tears to leave him. You were eighteen when you decided to leave them.

And now here you were at twenty-five staring at your childhood bedroom , trying your best to not look at any of the family portraits that adorned the walls.

This was no happy home. You wouldn’t even call it a home to begin with. Not when the halls had echoed your mother’s terrified screeches as the walls tainted red. Not as your father’s fist painted your mother’s porcelain skin yellow, purple, red and green. How you hated those colors and despised this place.

You couldn’t wait to leave once again.

“It’s nice to have you back, honey”

You sighed. Your mother’s voice was as always soft and sweet; you hated how soft it sounded, as if she expected to get hit if she were to be louder.

Your eyes glanced around before stopping on an old music box, one a certain crystal blue-eyed boy had given you once upon a time. A small smile faintly appears on your face as you gaze at it, before being wiped off by the rest of your memories.

Clearing your throat, you turn towards your mother with a steady gaze. She smiled at you softly.

And you hated it. You hated that you remember how she had chosen him over you, again and again. You hated how you had begged, even gotten on your knees, for her to leave with you.

You hated that no matter how many times she chose him, he never stopped the cracks from deepening.

“Have you decided on what to say?” She asks slowly, “You could just recall a memory… maybe just state three things that he ever did to make you smile or…”

“Mom” you interrupted her, hating how as she spoke images of her being brutally hurt appeared in her mind, “I’ll figure it out”

She doesn’t seem convinced, but she still nods.

Sighing, you turn to look out your window straight at the three-story mansion in front of your own. Memories of joyous laughter and snow white hair.

Closing your eyes, you turn around. You had a funeral to get ready for and an eulogy to lie in.

The flowers on the roof of your building had always been your home away from home. Especially when you didn’t actually have somewhere that felt as home yet. You had lost that a long time ago.

You keep on cutting off the dead limbs, lost in your thoughts, when the door snaps open loudly and a crash startle you.

Turning around you are met with the sight of a blond man in a suit panting over a broken empty flower pot. You would’ve already screamed at him about the mess if it wasn’t for the tears streaming down his face.

He turns, eyes meeting yours. E/C meeting brown. His pants slow down and what appears to be shame shines through his face.

“I-I’ll pay for it”

“Seems like it was asking for it so no worries” you joke trying to make him feel at ease.

Why? You’re not sure. There was just something about seeing someone so powerful looking being vulnerable that made you sympathize.

He lets out a giant laugh full of relief and you find yourself smiling at it.

“You did all this?” He points at the many flowers al over the roof.

You nod, “Yeah, it’s my hobby… although maybe you could consider it my job too?”

“Huh? Really?”

“Hopefully, yeah” you nod, continuing your job, “You?”

“I’m, uh, a layer”

“A lawyer?” You ask ironically. He didn’t seem that confident to be one.

“I don’t look the part?”

“Not really”

He laughs again, louder this time, and you find yourself smiling. Again.

When was the last time you had smiled?

“You don’t look like a florist either”

“Makes sense, I didn’t actually study to become one” you smirk, “I just decided to become it”

“What did you study then?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

He smiles, “Actually, I would. Along with your name”

“Sorry, I’m married”

His face pales, “Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean any—”

Your laughter interrupts him. A loud and melodic one. One you hadn’t heard yourself let out in a long time.

It felt… warm.

“You… you’re messing with me”

“I am” your laugh faints, but the smile remains, “Was that too much?”

“When it caused that laugh? Not at all”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Y/N” you say softly, “That’s my name”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N” he smiles, “I’m Naoya”

You nod at him before turning your attention to your flowers once more, trying to ignore the way your heart had started to increase the rhythm of its beat. You weren’t gonna acknowledge it.

“Why flowers?” He clears his throat, “I mean… you said you chose it so, why?”

“Why not? There’s q certain beauty in them, a familiarity, don’t you think so?”

“Familiarity?”

They’re just like us. When loved, they bloom. When hurt, they rot.

I wanted to say that, yet couldn’t. I had only ever said that to one person before and it felt like a betrayal to say it to somebody else, as insignificant as it seemed.

“Think about it, okay?” You settle for, smiling, “Promise you’ll figure it out”

He laughs faintly, “I take it, because it means we’ll meet again, right?”

“I don’t know about that…”

“You live here, am I wrong? I live here too! It’s meant to be”

You frown with a smile, “Is that your best way to flirt?”

“Only if it’s working”

You shake your head, laughing, “With those looks I thought you were a womanizer but now…”

“Hey! With this looks, what else would I need?”

Both of you share a laugh, a happy one, and for a minute you forget he came here banging doors and breaking pots; you forget you had been cutting dead limbs from flowers hoping it’d cut the ones inside you too.

But reality always sets in and your smile disappears.

He had been violent. Whatever his reason might be, even if it was one that could be understood, sirens loudly came to life inside your head making you move around, you were uncomfortable.

“Anyways… I know I said it probably was asking for it but what exactly did the flower pot do?”

You hate how your voice soften at the start, so you toughen it up by the end. The last thing you ever wanted was to be like your mom.

You’d never be like her.

“Honestly… it wasn’t the pot’s fault. Sadly, it was just collateral damage” he sighs, “I… uh… something happened. It’s kinda personal”

“Oh. Sorry. I-uh… too invasive. I apologize”

“No, no, it’s okay. Understandable. I…” he sighs, “I had this case, kinda can’t talk about it you know, but… it was a tough one. My client was a kid… and I lost”

“Oh”

“Yeah, oh” he laughs bitterly, “My client is a kid that I promised I’d help, that I’d save, and I didn’t. I failed them”

“I’m so sorry” you sigh, “That’s… a good enough reason for the pot’s short lifespan”

He smiles faintly.

You sigh, averting your eyes and playing with your fingers nervously.

“My dad died this past weekend” you blurt out, “Seems like it’s been a shitty last few days”

“Seems like it”

“Kind of a pretty deep conversation for two strangers to have on a roof, don’t you agree?”

“You’re not a stranger” his eyes soften, “You are Y/N, flower enthusiast, trickster, owner of the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You remind yourself to breathe as you let out an embarrassed laugh, averting your gaze from his soft one. Could your heart calm down? This was not the moment for a crush.

“Since we’re already spilling our dirty little secrets… how about a night of naked truths?”

“Naked truths?”

You hum, nodding, “I wouldn’t mind some company as I finish tending to my flowers and you seem like the last thing you need right now is being alone”

“Probably true. How’d you know I’m alone though?”

“Because we all tend to run to the person that makes us feel accompanied when we’re struggling… yet you’re on the roof, alone. Hitting doors and breaking pots”

“You’re also on the roof in a moment of struggle” he reminds you softly, his eyes filling with understanding.

“Again: I wouldn’t mind some company”

He nods, silently sitting down beside you on the floor and watching you as you tend your plants with care.

“Naked truths?” He reminds you softly.

You nod, “The odds of us ever seeing each other again are low, so it doesn’t matter”

“Kind of like a therapy session?”

“Zero judgement, all humor” you give him a small smile, “Wanna go first?”

“Today’s case… I watched a little boy’s life crumbled before his eyes when I failed him, making him go back to the hell he has lived with his father” he sighs, averting his gaze that had darken, “He’ll never be the same again and now he won’t even find a reason in asking for help”

“I’m sorry about that” you let out a deep breath, “Maybe he’ll figure out a way”

“Maybe… he shouldn’t have to though”

He was right. No kid should ever find a way to survive the hell they’ve been given. A kid should only ever be a kid.

“Your turn”

“I…”

He had been honest. He had been vulnerable. He deserved the same treatment.

“I’m a liar” you blurt out, “I’ve had to be since my father was a politician. But I shouldn’t have had to be it to the degree he made me be it. He… my mother and him fought a lot. And he would get so… so angry whenever they did that some-sometimes he would h-hit her. He’d apologize after. Taking us out, buying her expensive gifts. He knew I hated it when they fought so he’d buy me toys, to make up for it I guess. I didn’t really understand what him hitting her actually was, I was a kid. So… so-sometime-”

Your voice fails you, making you clear your throat as you find yourself admitting this out loud for the first time in years. Your saliva tasted like acid inside your mouth as you tried to find your voice once again.

Naoya waits patiently. Not making a sound and letting you collect yourself calmly.

“Sometimes I… I would find myself hoping they’d fight. Because I knew that if he h-hit her, the next two weeks would be… amazing” had I ever actually ever admitted this out loud?, “I wish he had never touched her. When I understood pain, I wished he’d stop but it was too late. It had become part of their marriage, like a silent norm in our house. So I let them be… I now know that letting it happen, never saying anything, makes me as guilty as him. As a daughter I have love for him, but as a person? I hate him. I have spent most of my life despising him for being such a bad person, but… I’m just as bad. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, am I right?”

“No”

The answer is immediate, making you freeze.

His hand stops your fumbling one, warming it on his own as if giving it a home. His gaze is determined, soft.

You couldn’t breathe.

“You’re not a bad person. I don’t think there’s really a thing as bad people” he squeezes my hand, “We’re just… people who sometimes do bad things. We’re humans, it’s inevitable”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Was I gonna agree with him just to stop the conversation? Was I gonna try to convince him that I’m bad? What exactly was I gonna say?

People who sometimes do bad things.

You felt yourself lighter after his words, as if the weight pulling you down and making it hard for you to breathe had slightly lifted.

No one is exclusively bad, he was right. Some people just have it harder to be good.

And that’s okay. You just gotta keep trying.

“Your turn”

He looks ready to disagree, but relents anyway.

“I don’t remember my mom” he confesses, “Dad and her divorced when I was four I think. He never let me see her once he won custody… and she didn’t try to either”

“You wish she had tried?”

“When I was a kid” he shrugs, “Not anymore. She made her choice, and now I choose not to wait for someone who didn’t want me”

“What if she wanted but just… couldn’t?”

He scoffs, “Your turn”

The bitterness in his voice stings, but you know it’s not directed at you.

You squeeze his hand trying to give him at least a little of the comfort he gave you moments ago. He smiles faintly.

“I have only ever fallen in love once” you admit, “His name was Satoru, he lived in the house in front of me. I lost my virginity with him until my dad found us and kick him out. Never saw him again after”

“Satoru?” He frowns, “Not a common name”

“Yeah, it isn’t”

“Kinda jealous right now” you frown, “He must have been a hell of a guy if you haven’t dated since”

You remember the blood and its metallic smell. How your throat hurt as you screamed for him to stop. How tears fell down your cheeks as you try to break them up, only to be pushed back. You feared he’d kill him.

“He was” you state softly, “It just couldn’t… we just had to stop seeing each other”

“Had to?”

“Yeah. Had to”

The confession tastes like the metallic smell imprinted in your mind, making it hard to swallow.

He stays silent for a moment.

“Now I really am jealous” he smiles, making you laugh, “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and you’re telling me you’ve only had one boyfriend? And he’s the one that got away?”

“Are you quoting a Katy Perry song?”

“Unimportant”

You laugh out loud. The screams that had muted the surrounding traffic sound quiet down, and the metallic taste disappears.

The one that got a way, you repeat to yourself. Yeah. Satoru definitely was that.

“What are you doing?”

You had been watching quietly so far but you just couldn’t anymore. Why did the heir of Gojo Enterprises look as if he was running away?

“Mind your own business”

“I actually am. You just stomped on my flowers before falling on your face as you ran without looking ahead” you scoff, “Now spill”

He sighs, looking towards his house before scoffing.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Satoru Gojo…? Only heir of the Gojo family, one of the top ten families in the whole country” you recite without a care, “Why does that even matter?”

“You forgot ‘illegitimate son’, princess” he rolls his eyes, “My mom was a maid who Mr. Gojo fucked because he pleased. So I’m leaving”

“Wh-wait! Leaving? Where?” You stop him, “You can’t leave”

“I can and I will”

“Where will you go? Do you even know what leaving on the streets will be like?” You scoff and cross your arms, “You won’t survive, not after living in that place”

“Until I was six, I lived in that place’s basement and was treated as a rat. I think the streets will be fine”

“But you can’t—”

“We’ve been neighbors all our lives and you’ve never once looked at me” he scoffs, “Don’t look at me now”

He turns around as he rolls his eyes, looking ready to ignore whatever else you tried to convince him to not leave home. But you’d never understand what a hell that house was and had always been, not when you had the picture perfect family.

“STAY HERE” you yelled in panic, freezing him on the spot, “We have a small house in our backyard, originally for the house’s help. It’s unoccupied, so you can stay there. Free of charge”

“Why?”

“Cause you look seem like someone who has had many doors closed in his face” you shrugs, averting your gaze shyly, “I want to show you there are others who’ll open it for you”

“Hey” you snap out of your memory from when you where fifteen, “You good? Lost you for a second”

“I’m fine” your voice is softer now, a hint of melancholy in it.

Why had you remembered that right now? Hadn’t that wound already healed?

“It’s gotten late. I-I should go”

You stand up, your head a mess, but his hand in yours stops you. His gaze is curious and slightly desperate.

“Will I see you again?”

“No”

“That stings”

“I’m just honest” you sigh, “That’s how it works”

“I don’t believe it is” he smiles, “So, see you next time, Y/N”

You had indeed seen him again, as if by destiny. He was apparently family of your new part-time worker, Maki. And apparently he knew your best friend, Utahime, whom had help you open your flower shop, Camellia Carnation.

It had taken you back to see him with Utahime, but you had acted indifferent. Then, he had been your first client ever and had buy the bouquet for you. Maki warned him you were off limits.

So you agreed to be friends.

Yet he was always there, and your heart kept on taking his side. One misstep and you found yourself falling.

You hadn’t meant to fall, not after Satoru. But at some point he smiled and you knew it was game over. Suddenly, he had sunk beneath your bones and nurtured this deep familiarity into a love so fierce that you believed this was it, that he was it. After all the pain, and the healing, and the heartbreak, Naoya was it.

Maki said he didn’t date, that he just played around. Naoya himself admitted it to.

Yet he begged you to try with him.

And holy crap were you glad you said yes. When was the last time you had been this happy? Dancing around the kitchen with only the refrigerator light? Playing board games in your bed? Laughing until the sun rose?

You gave him your all and he reciprocated it.

It only made sense that he met your mother when she came to visit you, even when you were a little hesitant about it. He was excited, you wouldn’t stop it.

You hadn’t expected to be frozen in your seat, barely registering what your mom was saying as you both waited for Naoya to come back from the restroom. How could you focus when you had just met your favorite set of crystal blue eyes?

You thought you had it wrong. You had to.

But nothing could compare to those eyes. White hair? People dyed it all the time. Pale skin? No beaches around. But his eyes? No one could even imagine coming close to their unique blue.

It has been years since you saw him, but you’ll never forget what he looked like. It had to be him. You know it was and you believe he recognized you, too, because the second your eyes met… it looked like he’d seen a ghost.

You felt breathless.

It was as if in this moment your soul was whispering to your heart excitedly about him. It was like a gravitational pull, like as if all the universes and all the galaxies were conspiring in his favor.

Snap out of it, you screamed in your head.

Why were you looking at him like that? You couldn’t. You didn’t know him, not anymore at least.

And yet…

You found yourself in the restroom’s, hoping he had recognized you and maybe decided to follow you.

What were you doing? He had left you behind, months before graduating, without a goodbye. He had probably gone to the marines to escape his father… but he had been so well dressed he probably had ended up doing as he was told.

You needed to compose yourself.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the door opening behind you. The Baby Breath flower tattoo in your collarbone burning as you meet his gaze, both of you breathless.

He looked healthy. There were so many emotions going through you at the moment but that was what stuck. You were happy he was healthy.

So why did it sting that he never came back for you? That he never looked for you?

“Y/N”

He’s standing at the end of the hallway like a ghost straight out of the past. He’s real, and he’s standing right in front of you.

“Toru”

He smiled and you swore your heart stopped.

“I’m going to make a promise to you. I’ll get out of my father’s cage and make a life of my own. When my life is good enough to deserve you in it, I’ll come find you. But don’t wait for me, okay? It may not happen”

He blows out a quick breath of relief and then takes three huge steps forward. You find yourself doing the same. Meeting in the middle and throwing your arms around each other.

“Holy shit” he breathes, tightening his embrace.

You nod, “Yeah. Holy shit”

He puts his hands on your shoulders and takes a step back to look at you.

“You haven’t change a thing”

Covering your mouth with your hand, still in shock, you give him a once-over. His face looks the same, but he’s no longer the scrawny teenager you remember.

“I can’t say the same for you”

He laughed, “Six years in the military will do that, definitely”

You’re in shock, and so is he, so nothing is said after that. You’re both too busy taking each other in to figure out what to say next. Laughing with disbelief.

Finally, he releases your shoulders and folds his arms over his chest.

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t remember. You didn’t know if you were disappointed or relieved.

“I live here,” you say, forcing your answer to sound as casual as his question, “I own a flower shop over on Park Plaza”

He smiles knowingly, like it doesn’t at all surprise him.

You glance toward the door, knowing you should get back out there. He notices and then takes another step back. He holds your gaze for a moment, it gets really quiet. Way too quiet.

There’s so much you both have to say but where to start? The smile leaves his eyes for a moment and then he motions toward the door.

“You should probably get back to your company”, he says, “I’ll look you up sometime. You said Park Plaza, right?”

I nod. He nods.

And then you both parted ways.

The rest of your dinner was uneventful. Your gaze sometimes strayed to where Satoru sat surrounded by men in business attire, but came back to Naoya whenever he made your mom laugh.

Naoya is the perfect gentleman. Making your mom laugh, listening to her stories, paying for dinner, insisting on walking her to her car.

So why did you kept glancing at Satoru throughout the night?

“I ordered an Uber so we have approximately…” he checks his phone, “two minutes to make out”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. Smiling softly as you feel him kiss your neck lovingly, followed by your cheek.

“Ugh, how I wish I could invite myself over to your apartment, but my client wouldn’t be too happy with me if I did”

You giggle before kissing him back. Relief and disappointment coursing through you at his words.

Why was there relief?

“Grand opening soon, so I need to rest too” you remind him, “When’s your next day off?”

“Never. When’s yours?”

“Never”

You both laugh again, making out a little more before his Uber arrives and he has to leave. You watch until it pulls out of the parking lot.

Why did everything feel so right with him?

You smiled and turned around towards your car, but gasped as soon as your gaze met his covered one.

What the hell was Satoru doing standing at the rear of your car?

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you”

His voice is low, as if tired. You force yourself to not dwell on the motive.

“Well, you did” you lean against the car, three feet away from him.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

Your eyes widen as you turn to him, but his gaze is set on the road. You clear your throat.

“He’s…” your voice falters. This is weird. Your chest is still constricted and your stomach is flipping, “His name is Naoya. We met about a year ago.”

You force yourself not to wince at the truth once it came out. Maybe you shouldn’t have said you met that long ago. It sounded as if you were in an official long term relationship while you were just… courting each other?

“What about you? Girlfriend? Wife?”

Why were you asking that? Were you genuinely curious or…?

“Girlfriend. Her name is Mei Mei. We’ve been together almost a year now”

Heartburn. You believe you were having a heartburn. You place your hand in your chest.

A year?

“That’s good. You seem happy”

Did he seem happy? You had no clue. You just had to say something. Anything.

“Yeah. Well… I’m really glad I got to see you, Y/N” he turns around to walk away, but then spins and faces you again, his hands shoved in his back pockets, “I will say… I kind of wish this could have happened a year ago”

You wince at his words, trying not to let them get to you. Watching him as he turns and walks back to the restaurant.

Fumbling with your keys, you hit the button to unlock your car and slide in, shutting the door behind you loudly. You grip the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. You feel a sting on your lower lip as you bite it.

For whatever reason, a tear falls down your cheek. You feel pathetic as you carelessly wipe it before starting your car.

Why were you feeling this much hurt after seeing him?

But it’s good. This happened for a reason. Your heart needed closure so that you could give it to Naoya. Maybe you couldn’t have done that until this happened.

This was good…

Yet you kept on crying.

But it’ll feel better. It’ll be better. This was just human nature, healing an old wound to prepare for a fresh new layer.

Nothing else.

“Knock, knock” you smile, opening the door with a tray in your hands full of food.

Satoru is sleeping on the couch in the help’s house living room and your gaze softens as you see the usual frown you’ve become used to missing.

He is different than you thought.

At school he was all smiles and laughter. But that was just a mask. This was the real him, the human him. One that had a lot of baggage and was slowly trying to get rid of it.

Sighing, you put the tray in the table and move closer to him, kneeling in front of the couch where he is laying.

“Psst… Satoru… wake up”

He frowns and moves slightly, which makes you giggle softly. Was he pouting?

“Come on. Mom and dad left so I brought you breakfast” his eyes open slightly, “I made sure to bring also a piece of strawberry cheesecake”

That makes him sit up quickly. You giggle and shake your head in amusement. You had learned in the last few weeks of him living with you of his sweet tooth, it was adorable.

Except something look out of place.

His usual pale skin was red. And the house had AC so he shouldn’t be sweating that much. Also, why were his eyes bloodshot?

Worried you make your palm touch his forehead, frowning as you feel how hot it feels against your skin. You wanted to call my mother, but how would you explain the situation? What could you do?

He must’ve seen how worried you were, cause he smiled softly at me.

“I’m okay, Y/N”

Your frowned deepened. Without a word you stood up, crossing your backyard to go inside your house and look for some medicine in the cabinet. There was some flu medicine, you weren’t sure if it’d work but you needed to try. Then, you went to the kitchen and made him some ginger tea, which should help if he’s got a sour throat.

When you came back he was curled up in a ball, shivering slightly.

“Seriously, I’m fine”

“Shut up” you scoff, handing him the mug, “Drink the tea, I’ll look for a blanket”

You did as you said and he did as told. After the tea you made him drink the medicine you brought him, and then you help him eat the breakfast you prepared for him.

Throughout it all he watched you with an intense gaze that you didn’t understand, but didn’t mind either.

“Y/N… I think I wanna throw up”

You stop wetting the towels you were preparing for him, jumping to grab the trash can and kneeling down in front of him.

As soon as you set it down, Satoru hunched over it and started throwing up.

You felt your chest tighten. You didn’t want to pity him, but you kinda did. Whatever his home situation had been like, he preferred having no home to call his own and no parents to take care of him than keep on living there. Even when he was this sick.

He only had you now. And you had no clue on how to help him.

After he finished throwing up, you help him drink some water and help him brush his teeth before putting him to bed. He pouted and whined like a child, but you weren’t having any of that.

He was shaking so bad and sweating like crazy from the heat his body expelled, the thought of leaving him alone scared you.

So you didn’t.

You laid down next to him, not minding the possibility of getting sick, and every hour for the next ten hours that he continued to get sick you stayed by his side. You kept on emptying the trash can, wiping his sweat, changing his sheets, wetting his towels, making him soup and helping him eat. You didn’t even think about how gross it was.

He needed you, and you were not fucking failing him.

By the time he regained a little bit of his strength, you were exhausted. You sent him to take a shower and closed your eyes for a little bit.

Why were you so worried about him?

You sighed, too tired to think of an answer. What you did know is that you did care about him, and there was no changing that now.

When he finished showering, you made him seat next to you and covered him up with the blanket, leaning into him slightly as you felt yourself becoming sleepy.

“You should rest” he whispers, “You’ve been taking care of me all day”

“I’m not tired”

“Don’t be stubborn” he coughs, “Just sleep for ten minutes. Please?”

He never said please. You doubted the word was even in his vocabulary, yet he just said it so you would consider resting.

Silently, you close your eyes.

A few minutes later, you felt him lean over a little and press his lips against your collarbone, right between your shoulder and your neck. You stop yourself from shivering as you become breathless. It was a quick kiss. Not even one you could consider as romantic in any way, more like a thank-you kiss.

But it made you feel all kinds of things.

Even when it had already been a few hours since you left him, as you lay awake on your bed, you kept touching that spot with your fingers because you could still feel it.

It was probably one of the worst day of his life. But it had been one of your best.

The next couple of weeks things started changing between you and Satoru. Something had shifted in your dynamic.

Now you held hands. Now you slept some nights in the same bed. Now you both seek the warmth that came from the other. It made you wonder if he still saw you as a naive fifteen year old. He was just two years older, it shouldn’t make that much of a difference right?

You were currently both watching Finding Nemo in the main house’s living room. The part came up where Nemo’s father, Merlin, was looking for Nemo but feeling really defeated and Dory said: ‘When life gets you down do you wanna know what you gotta do? Just keep swimming’.

“Just keep swimming” you whisper to yourself, turning to face him with a soft smile as you grab and squeeze his hand, “Just keep swimming”

You wanted to be the one that helped him swim until he finally got to surface, until he finally could breathe again.

You both were now facing each other and he had a strange look in his eyes.

“When do you turn sixteen?”

“That’s a random question” you softly laughed, “In two more months… when do you turn eighteen?”

“Not until December” he said.

You nodded, wondering if he still saw you as a kid… and if he could ever see you as more.

Maybe when two people are fifteen and seventeen, it might seem a little too far apart. But once you turned sixteen, who would see the difference?

“I need to tell you something”, he said.

You lost your breath. Heart beating fast. Were you maybe too hopeful right now?

“I got in touch with my uncle today. My mom used to live with him in Boston. He told me once he gets back from his work trip I can stay with him”

Oh.

This was good news. This should make you happy. He’d have a home, a family. He’d be okay. So why weren’t you? Why were you feeling sorry for yourself?

“Are you going?” you asked, begging the universe your voice didn’t shake.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

He was so close to you on the couch, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. He smelled like mint.

You started fiddling with your hands, hoping to shake off the negative feelings surfacing.

“I don’t know what to say” you clear your throat, “I’m happy you have a safe place to stay, but what about school?”

A stupid excuse, but it was something.

“I could finish down there”, he said.

Oh.

He had already made up his mind, hadn’t he? You knew because he had this certain light in his eyes, a light you thought had extinguished.

Who were you to try to stop it from shining?

“When are you leaving?”

The words fled like acid in your throat.

You wondered how far away Boston is. It’s probably a few hours, but that’s a whole world away when you don’t own a car.

“I don’t know for sure that I am.”

“What’s stopping you? Your uncle is offering you a place to stay. That’s good, right?”

He tightened his lips together and nodded. Then he stop your fiddling hands, grabbing them on his own and playing with your fingers. He leaned back and then he did something you weren’t expecting. He moved his fingers to your lips and he touched them.

You felt like dying. How was it possible to feel so much at once? You had to be dying.

He kept his fingers there for a few seconds, and he said, “Thank you, Lily. For everything”

He moved his fingers up and through your hair, and then he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your forehead. Were you even breathing at this point? He looked down at me and you watched as his eyes went right to your mouth.

“Have you ever been kissed, Y/N?”

You shook your head no and tilted your face up to his because you needed him to change that right then and there or you weren’t gonna be able to breathe.

Then, too slow for your liking, he lowered his mouth to yours and just rested it there. You didn’t know what to do next, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you just stayed like that all night and never even moved your mouths, it was everything.

His lips closed over yours and you could kind of feel his hand shaking. You did what he was doing and started to move your lips like he was, although a little weird at first. You felt the tip of his tongue brush across your lips once and you thought your eyes were about to roll back in your head. He did it again, and then a third time, so you finally did it, too. When your tongues touched for the first time, you kind of smiled a little, because you had thought about your first kiss a lot. Where it would be, who it would be with. Never in a million years did you imagine it would feel like this.

He pushed you on your back and pressed his hand against your cheek and kept kissing you. It just got better and better as you grew more comfortable. Your favorite moment was when he pulled back for a second and looked down at you, then came back even harder.

You don’t know how long you kissed. A long time. So long, your mouth started to hurt and your eyes couldn’t stay open. By the time you both were too tired to open your eyes, you could still feels his lips ghosting over yours.

“You’re my favorite person”, you whisper, sleep overcoming you slowly.

“Out of how many people?”

His voice sounded alive for some reason. You didn’t dwell on it, too tired to try to open your eyes and see the look on his face.

“All of them”

His arms around you tighten, a small kiss being delivered to the side of your lip.

“You’re my favorite person too, Y/N. By a long shot”

You had to stop remembering the past. Especially now that you had a beautiful present paired with a future to look forward to. Naoya was perfect. He was everything you had wanted when you were a child.

Your chapter with Satoru was over. He was happy now.

You were happy now.

Time can definitely heal all wounds. Or at least most of them.

Life kept going and you buried any thought of Satoru that had come to mind. Things with Naoya became official and you felt on cloud nine every second you spent in his presence.

Especially after having sex. It was a hell of a ride.

You excitedly walked around your flower shop, humming a song under your breath and ignoring the weird looks Utahime and Maki are giving you.

Naoya had just called to say he was taking the day off for you. You had every right to feel giddy.

“Please tell me you’re being safe”

Your roll your eyes at Utahime as Maki fakes puking.

“Please, don’t”, Maki groans, “Still underage here”

“Both of you shush it” you laugh, “Utahime make sure to close. Maki get home safe. I got a dinner to make”

By the time you hear the door open you’re almost finished preparing the casserole mixture. You pour it into the glass pan and don’t turn around when you hear him walk into the kitchen.

You squeal when you feel the sting on your right butt cheek.

“Did you just slap my ass?”

“Don’t blame me, who wouldn’t want to smack that ass?”

You laugh. He raised the wine bottles in his hands with a grin, “It’s vintage”

Vintage,” I say with mock impression. “What’s the special occasion?”

He hands you a glass and says, “I have a smoking hot girlfriend and I have one of the most important trials of my life in a few days”

“What kind of trial?”

You both finish your glasses of wine and he pours you more.

“One that’s gonna be televised around the whole country. Career changing” he says, “A doctor that abused most of his female patients while anesthetized. Gotta put the bastard in jail”

Was it wrong to be turned on by your boyfriend putting trash men in jail?

“How long do you think it’ll take?”, you ask.

“Well, he had more than a hundred victims so… make three days trial if we keep it short”

You hated that people like that existed, but it made you like him more how hard he fought to get rid of them.

He chugs his wine then, “I’m gonna take a shower. Be right back”

He kissed your cheek swiftly before getting out of the kitchen.

You drink more of your wine.

He was on top of her.

They were on the couch and he had his hand around her throat, but his other hand was pulling up her dress. She was trying to fight him off and you just stood there, frozen. She kept begging him to get off her and then he hit her right across the face and told her to shut up.

You’ll never forget his words when he said, “You want attention? I’ll give you some fucking attention”

And that’s when she got real still and stopped fighting him. You heard her crying.

“Please be quiet. Y/N is here”, she sobbed, “Please be quiet”

Please be quiet while you rape me.

Was it possible for a person to feel this much hate? You walked straight to the kitchen and opened the drawer. It was like you weren’t in your own body. You grabbed the biggest knife you could find.

You weren’t planning to used it. You just wanted something that could scare him. But before you could make it out of the kitchen, two arms went around your waist and picked you up from behind. You dropped the know, but your father didn’t heart it. Your mother did.

You locked eyes with her as Satoru carried you back to your bedroom.

When you were back inside my room, you just started hitting him in the chest, trying to get back out there to her. You were crying (when had you started crying?) and doing everything you could to get him out of your way, but he wouldn’t move.

He just wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Y/N, calm down”, he kept saying over and over.

He held you there for a long time until you accepted that he wasn’t gonna let you go back out there. He wasn’t gonna let you have that knife.

He walked over to the bed and grabbed his jacket and started putting on his shoes.

“We’ll go to the help’s house. We’ll call the police”

The police.

Your mother had warned you not to call the police in the past. She said it could jeopardize your father’s career. But in all honesty, you didn’t care at that point. The only thing you cared about was helping your mother, so you pulled on your jacket and went to the closet for a pair of shoes. When you stepped out of your closet, Satoru was staring at your bedroom door.

It was opening.

Your mother stepped inside and quickly shut it, locking it behind her. You’ll never forget what she looked like. She had blood coming down from her lip. Her eye was already starting to swell, and she had a clump of hair just resting on her shoulder. She looked at Satoru and then at you.

You didn’t even take a moment to feel scared that she had caught you in your room with a boy. You didn’t care about that. You were just worried about her.

You walked over to her and grabbed her hands and walked her to your bed. You brushed the hair off her shoulder and then from her forehead.

“He’s gonna go call the police, mom. Okay?”

Her eyes grew real wide and she started shaking her head.

“No” she said, “You can’t. No”

Satoru was already at your window about to leave, but he stopped and looked at you.

“He’s drunk, Y/N” she said, “He heard your door shut, so he went to our bedroom. He stopped. If you call the police, it’ll just make it worse, believe me. Just let him sleep it off, it’ll be better tomorrow”

But it wouldn’t. It hadn’t been in all these years. This had to be the final straw.

You shook your head and could feel the tears stinging your eyes, “Mom, he was trying to rape you!”

She ducked her head and winced when you said that.

“It’s not like that” she shook her head, “We’re married. And sometimes marriages is… you’re too young to understand”

It got really quiet for a minute.

“I hope to hell I never understand”

That’s when she started to cry. She just held her head in her hands and she started to sob and all you could do was wrap your arms around her and cry with her. You had never seen her this upset. Or this hurt. Or this scared. It broke your heart.

It broke you.

You chug the wine in your hand and pour yourself some more. Tonight was a happy day, a good one. Why were you thinking about that?

You’re on your fourth or fifth glass of wine when Naoya comes back.

“We have dinner reservations tomorrow with Utahime and Maki to celebrate your flower shop” he pours himself another glass, “We’re going to the restaurant we went with your mom. Dory was it called?”

Your heart sinks down your chest.

It’d be impossible to meet Satoru there again, right? It had been a coincidence. Boston was too big to find each other again… right?

“I don’t want to go back there. I didn’t like it. Let’s try something new”

“You’ll be fine,” he says, “Maki is excited to eat there, I told her all about it and for once she didn’t roll her eyes at me”

What are the odds of meeting again at that same place? Maybe you should just let it be.

“Speaking of food, I’m starving”

The casserole!

“Oh shit!” You say, laughing. You were definitely tipsy.

Naoya rushes to the kitchen and you stand up and follow him in there. You walk in just as he pulls the oven door open and waves away the smoke. Ruined.

You got dizzy all of a sudden from standing up too fast after having that many glasses of wine. So you grabbed the counter beside him to steady yourself, just as he reached in to pull the burnt casserole out.

“Wait, Naoya! You need a…”

“Shit!” he yells.

“Pot holder”

The casserole falls from his hand and lands on the floor, shattering everywhere. You lift up your feet to avoid broken glass and mushroom chicken splatter. You start laughing as soon as you realize he didn’t even think to use a pot holder.

Must be the wine. It was a seriously strong wine.

He slams the oven shut and moves to the faucet, shoving his hand under the cold water, muttering curse words. You’re trying to suppress your laughter, but the wine and the ridiculousness of the last few seconds are making it hard. You look at the floor, at the mess you’re both about to have to clean up, and the laughter bursts from you. You’re still laughing as you lean over to get a look at Naoya’s hand.

You hope he didn’t hurt it too bad.

Suddenly you’re not laughing anymore. You’re on the floor, your hand pressed against the corner of your eye.

In a matter of one second, Naoya’s arm came out of nowhere and slammed against you, knocking you backwards. There was enough force behind it to know you off balance. When you lost your footing, you hit your face on one of the cabinet door handles as you came down.

Pain shoots through the corner of your eye, right near your temple.

And then you feel the weight.

Heaviness follows and it presses down on every part of you. So much gravity, pushing down on your emotions. Everything shatters.

Your tears, your heart, your laughter, your happiness, your soul. Shattered like broken glass raining down around you.

You wrap your arms over your head and try to wish away the last ten seconds.

Was that all it took for everything to shatter? Only ten seconds?

“Shit, Y/N” you hear him groan, “It’s not funny. It fucking hurts”

You don’t look up.

His voice doesn’t penetrate your body this time. It feels like it’s stabbing you now; that sharpness of his words coming at you like swords.

And then his hands are on your back, rubbing it.

“Y/N. Oh, shit, Y/N” he tries to pull your arms away from your head, but you refuse.

You shake your head. Begging for the last seconds to go away. Ten seconds. That’s all it took for a person to completely change everything about themselves.

Ten seconds that you’ll never get back.

He pulled you against him and started kissing the top of your head.

“I’m so sorry. I just… I burned my hand. I panicked. You were laughing and… I’m so sorry, it all happened so fast. I didn’t mean to push you, Y/N. I’m sorry”

But you couldn’t hear Naoya, you only heard your father.

“I’m sorry, Y/M/N. It was an accident. I’m so sorry”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It was an accident. I’m so sorry”

You wanted him away from you.

Using every ounce of strength still in you, you pushed him away from you. He falls backward, onto his hands. His eyes are full of genuine sorrow, but then they’re full of something else.

Worry? Panic?

He slowly pulls up his right hand and it’s covered in blood. Blood is trickling out of his palm, down his wrist. You look at the floor, at the shattered pieces of glass from the casserole dish. His hand. You just pushed him onto glass.

He turns around and pulls himself up. He sticks his hand under the stream of water and starts rinsing away the blood. You stand up, shaking, just as he pulls a sliver of glass out of his palm and tosses it on the counter.

You’re full of so much anger, but somehow, concern for his hand still finds its way out. You grab a towel and shove it into his fist. There’s so much blood.

You try to help stop the bleeding, but you’re shaking too bad, “Naoya, your hand.”

He pulls the hand away and, with his good hand, he lifts my chin.

“Fuck the hand, Y/N. I don’t care about my hand. Are you okay?”

He’s looking back and forth between your eyes frantically as he assesses the cut on your face.

Your shoulders begin to shake and huge, hurt-filled tears spill down your cheeks.

“No” you’re sure he can hear your heart breaking with just that one word, because you can feel it in every part of you, “Oh my God. You pushed me, Naoya. You…”

The realization of what has just happened hurts worse than the actual action.

Naoya wraps his arm around your neck and desperately holds you against him, “I’m so sorry, Lily. God, I’m so sorry”, he buries his face against your hair, squeezing you with every emotion inside of him, “Please don’t hate me. Please”

His voice slowly starts to become his own voice again, and you feel it in your stomach, in your toes. He’s not even worried about his hand, which is still bleeding. That means something right?

There’s too much happening. The smoke, the wine, the broken glass, the food splattered everywhere, the blood, the anger, the apologies, it’s too much.

“I’m so sorry” he says again

You pull back and his eyes are red and you’ve never seen him look so sad.

“I panicked. I didn’t mean to push you away, I just panicked. All I could think about was my hand and… I’m so sorry”

He presses his mouth to your and breathes you in.

He’s not like your father. He can’t be. He’s nothing like that uncaring bastard.

You’re both upset and kissing and confused and sad. You’ve never felt anything like this moment, so ugly and painful. But somehow the only thing that eases the hurt just caused by this man is this man. Your tears are soothed by his sorrow, your emotions soothed with his mouth against yours, his hand gripping yours like he never wants to let go.

Naoya isn’t like your father. He’s nothing like him.

He can’t be.

part two [coming soon]

[wandering-ghost]

Have some more propaganda for the @rottmnt-au-summit from your truly

[witchofthesouls]

I am haunted by Miko/Tarn.

I have a very specific AU for this pairing. A combination between that soulmate ask and this Other ask where the kids are dealing with post everything, including their heritage.

The Primal Artifact is Quintus' Emberstone that cyberformed the young adult trio into full-framed Cybertronians.

Each of them eerie in their own way...

Jack is definitely something bird-related. Dark frame and dark wings, glossy raven-black, a face as pale as a moon, and blue optics with a grey cast. Has an armored coat.

Raf has his draconian heritage on display. Bulky and overlapping segments of plating. He's sharp. Angles and spikes on his broad frame. More reptilian features.

Miko is a War-Forged Seeker. She's not a small nor sleek femme. Way too much teeth with optics that remind her of her yōkai ancestress.

Because Miko's bloodlust and frenzied states grew exponentially with her new form that actually began to turn her into a liability on the field. Ratchet can't keep up with her brute force and savage style, so-

Here comes June Darby, who makes a deal with Soundwave inside the Shadowzone.

Who better to help a War-Forged Seeker who was once a human with seablood than the very mech that tied with the Champion of Kaon.

The Nakadai family still have cultural practices and beliefs that stem from the sea. Unlike the red string of fate, they have something that's considered far more intimate.

Soulsong or Dreamsong. A harmony from another that is compatible with your very essence.

Miko has one. She dreamt of it. Over and over. It was one of the first things she learned how to play on piano.

The Empyrean Suite.

Of course, the Decepticon Justice Division makes it way to Earth. Not only is it the last stand of High Command, but Tarn can actually get a proper location of his fated bondmate. What was once a whisper to muffled broken note is now a blazing presence.

The vibe I'm going for is that Meg Boggs meme:

Miko: "I don't want to be strong like man who look ✨️ pretty ✨️. I want to be strong like bitch that fights bears in the forest!"

Tarn: "She's thinks I'm pretty."

______

Miko's increasingly worrisome measures to put Tarn off, including playing more into her more ghastly yōkai traits, but it just endears him even more because he's an obsessive freak.

Tarn: "She's beauty. She's grace. She will rearrange a face."

(Everyone else watching Miko rip apart a carcass with her jaw strength and many serrated teeth, trying to be as gross and gorey as possible.)

Jack and Raf: What a fucking simp!

______

Soundwave's and Ratchet's attempts to stay busy and disappearing acts because Miko wants to shake them down on what's sexy versus hideous to their species.

Ratchet is a Medical-caste (middle-to-upper) Autobot has no idea how to help her, an ex-human turned morbid Seeker femme. Not with the backward 'con culture of territoriality and savagery, but he doesn't want to be the one who breaks it to Miko that fated bondmates and Resonants are a huge cultural phenomena across Cybertron.

Soundwave has been a major pillar of the Decepticon movement and complied Tarn's dossier, including his neuroses... Soundwave doesn't need telepathy to know it's a lost cause because Tarn gets interested, he becomes obsessed.

______

Running joke that Tarn finally got pegged, and it's by a wild animal. A magic, demon fish. Not Megatron.

[acewithapaintbrush]

@cupcakeslushie s FeralLeo Au has me by the throat and I had to get this out of my head.

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

It's too bright.

Pest hisses and then hisses again, louder, even more agitated, when his voice sounds unfamiliar to his own ears. The echo is missing in this place. Wherever he is, there is no metal to throw his voice back to him in an endless loop. 

(sorry I'm sorry I miss you I wanna go home it hurts) 

Only stone beneath his feet and hands. Rough where metal was smooth and warm where metal was cold. The air doesn't smell and taste like blood either. 

And it's too bright. 

This place is different. Everything is different and Pest presses himself further into the corner, afraid and angry and horrified. The big crack in his shell catches against an edge in the wall and it hurts, but it always hurts. It never not hurts. 

(that's a lie there was a time when nothing hurt when there was light and laughter and comfort and) 

"Leo?" 

The word is familiar, but not as familiar as the voices. 

Not as painful. 

Pest remembers a time when he would hear these voices all the time. He would float in the vast emptiness of the other place, waiting waiting waiting for the next attack, for the next hurt, for the next onslaught of insults and taunts. And he would hear the voices, all around him. 

"Leo." 

"Buddy." 

"Nardo." 

"Blue." 

He would hear them and he would turn around and around, flailing his arms and legs, calling for them despite his better judgment. Raising his voice brought pain. It brought insults and taunts. It alerted the Big One. But he would call and call even after the Big One found him and he would cry and cry big, fat tears that had nothing to do with the new scars or broken bones. 

He called for them, but they never came.  

"No one is coming, Pest! It's just you and me! Forever!" 

(just you and me just me and you it's better this way it's okay better me than them better me than… than…) 

Than who? 

Pest thinks he started to slip the moment he stopped hearing the voices. The moment he slapped his hands over his ears and told them to shut up and they did. 

Without the voices there was just the Big One. Just surviving. 

Survive survive survive. 

(why why why?) 

Don't ask. Don't question. Just live. Just bite and hiss and scratch. The less he talked and the more he fought without abandon

(like an animal you are an animal what happened) 

 the better he fared. The less interest the Big One seemed to have in him. 

"Wretched pest." The Big One would scoff with disgust and fling him away. Bored. 

Bored is good. Bored means less pain. Less attention. 

So he became a Pest. He hissed and bit and scratched. He started to fight dirty. 

(that's not the ninja way someone always used to say that's not the ninja way but what is the ninja way what is he supposed to do to survive why is he supposed to survive) 

Don't ask. Don't question. 

Just hiss and bite and scratch. 

He sees shapes in front of him. Colorful. Green like him. And red and purple and yellow and orange and brown and so many more. He forgot what colors look like. There were no colors in the other place. 

But he can't see more than that. His eyes hurt and his sight is blurry. It's too bright here. The echo is missing. 

He is lost. 

(no you are home home home you are home) 

He is lost and he is scared and he is tired. One of the shapes comes closer. Purple. 

"Nardo. Please snap out of it." 

The voice is so familiar. He feels like he should know it better than he knows himself, but all he remembers is flailing around in the dark and calling out and crying and the voices going away. Leaving him alone in the other place. Alone with the Big One. 

There is still that loop in his head (survive survive survive) and so when the Purple One reaches out to touch his shoulder Pest does what he has to do. 

Don't ask. Don't question. Just bite and hiss and scratch. 

He lunges. 

*****

Imagine this happens shortly before that first post, where Leo kneels on Donnie's back

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

The Bachelor: Robin Edition by Vamillepudding

Gotham loses its Robin and Bruce Wayne loses a son. Tim finds one of these too tragic to bear. In his quest to make sure Bruce Wayne lives to see the next year, he strikes upon the perfect solution: another son.

-

His best bet is, naturally, Crime Alley.

By 8 pm that day, Drake Manor is filled with ten black-haired, blue-eyed boys sitting around the large dining table, looking around the room suspiciously.

Well. Eleven. But Tim doesn’t think he counts.

ATLA

Dish Duty by Princeliest

All Zuko had been trying to do was wash some dishes. Or: The one where Zuko and Katara both mean well, but still can't find their footing around each other in time to prevent explosive shouting, broken dishes, an impromptu arrest, and Team Avatar's third- nay, fourth jailbreak. Fifth? They've lost count at this point, but at least they're not willing to lose Zuko... now, if only he realized that.

Merlin

all oak and iron bound by numinousnumbat

Some of those born with magic are repelled by iron. Merlin wished he knew how much iron there was in Camelot before he started his new life there.

HTTYD

Abandon Hope Who Enters Here (everyone who enters here) by JaggedEmeraldsOfGold

Eret had spoken about the mindless cruelty of Drago’s base and soldiers, but there’s nothing like seeing it in front of her to make it really, really sink in. She’d wanted to empathize, but she doesn’t think she really understood.

She does now.

Astrid leans her head back until it hits the wall behind her, and blinks up at the ceiling.

It’s going to be a long three days.

Or: Instead of facing the Monstrous Nightmare in the Kill Ring, Hiccup packs up and leaves Berk on Toothless, defeating the Red Death on his own as he goes. Six years later, Hiccup has royally fucked up– Hiccup has severely underestimated Drago, and now Hiccup is cramped, tired, hungry, without his prosthetic, and he really, really, really misses Toothless.

Imagine his surprise (read: complete and utter dread) when he wakes up one day to see absolutely none other than Astrid Hofferson, Snotlout Jorgenson, Fishlegs Ingerman, and Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston sitting in the cell across from him.

against the wind by underpassgraffiti

When Hiccup and Snotlout get stranded, they have to work together to stay alive.

Easier said than done.

To End a War by GhostStone

Stoick may not listen to Hiccup, but there is one person he does listen to on occasion. And that one person just happens to be someone who will listen to Hiccup.

An AU where the night before he is meant to kill the dragon, Hiccup realized how awful his plan is and goes to Gobber for help.

the soul of a dragon by castelia

Soulmarks amongst humans are easily identifiable: they are words tattooed on skin, words to be spoken during the first moment where two people truly connect. No one believes dragons have soulmarks, let alone that a dragon and a human can share a soul bond.

Until Hiccup.

[f1amboyant]

we used to interact a lot, but then it stopped and now i'm scared/embarrassed to do that, so i'll use this way to tell you i'm excited for your single dad Charles au :)))

Hi there 🩵

I know it's easy to say, but please don't feel scared or embarrassed to interact again. I'm always open to interactions. But if you feel more comfortable sending anon asks, that's okay too 🥰

And the single dad charles au? This story truly has taken over my life at this point. I love this stupid little story so much 🥹 But I have to admit, it's really longer than anything I have tried to write before so it's taking a lot of time and energy from me. So thank you very much for being excited about this little story 🥹

Please, I would be very happy if you reached out (through asks or dms or whatever) about this story because I have already written 22k words that I cannot post yet and I'm itching to talk about it. So yeah 🫣

Anyway. Maybe I can give a little snippet? 🥰

.

Charles walked back to the leaving room where the game had finally come to an end. Charles didn't know if Gabriel's favorite team had won or not, but his son was still talking with Carlos excitedly.

Charles glanced down at his watch and sighed. It was way past Gabriel's bedtime but it didn't seem like the boy would get tired any time soon. That was okay. Tonight was a weird and special night.

He leaned against the doorframe, looking at the two: this beautifully tender man and his son. Something squeezed in Charles' heart. This image looked too perfect. He wanted this to be his reality so much. Carlos took such good care of Gabriel and it seemed Gab really liked spending time with him.

"I really like you, Carlos," Gab suddenly said, like he could read his father's mind.

Charles smiled. Of course his son who never stopped talking would say exactly what he had on his little mind. Like father, like son. But it seemed like Gabriel didn't want to stop there.

"Are you going to be my new dad?" the boy asked. "All the other kids have two parents. Can you be my second dad? My other dad didn't like me and left me," he added with a slight pout.

Charles' heart broke, right here and there. He had gone through a lot in his younger years but nothing, absolutely nothing broke his heart faster and harder than seeing his little boy say he wasn't loved by his genitor. Charles could go through hell and back. But this? This was unacceptable.

Charles stepped inside the room, ready to scoop Gabriel right into his arms in the tightest hug possible, but Carlos beat him to it. The coach put his big hand over Gabriel's head and ruffled his hair, eliciting a laugh from the boy.

"Ah, Gabi," Carlos sighed. "I'm sure your other dad didn't know you. If he had, he would have loved you, cielo. I'm sure."

He looked up, meeting Charles' eyes. Charles gulped down.

"Pi–" his throat tighten too much for this name to come out. "He wasn't ready to be a dad," he explained poorly.

"But Carlos can be my new dad, right papa?"

What was Charles supposed to answer to that? That yes, he would very much like to include Carlos in their lives? That yes, please fuck yes, he would very very much like to have Carlos with him and all that entailed? But that also no, because that was terrifying and Charles couldn't risk his heart getting broken again? That he couldn't risk Gabriel's heart to get broken?

Lost, Charles looked to Carlos. That bastard's smile grew more smug by the second. And if Charles looked back at Gabriel, all he could see were those bright blue eyes full of too much hope. Truly, Charles' life was ridiculous.

"Yes, Charles," Carlos probed. "Am I going to be Gabi's new dad? That's a very good question."

Charles felt himself blush harder and brighter than ever. His hair probably turned red too at this point. He hadn't stopped blushing all evening. This was utterly ridiculous. And there was only one escape.

"We can talk about that later, it's time to go to bed, Gab."