#and i can’t even explain how badly i’ve been wanting her to perform this live

[shefinallyrose]

70k people got to scream “give me back my girlhood it was mine first” with taylor tonight and i wasn’t one of them…never gonna recover from this i fear

[mishasminions]

Here’s why the Supernatural Series Finale Sucked

(AND IT REALLY ISN’T JUST BECAUSE CAS/MISHA WASN’T IN IT)

First of all, I’d like to state, that this perspective is coming from someone who has watched, invested in, and dissected this show for 15 years. I’ve tried to rationalize and justify every single decision each of the main characters made throughout the years, and I’ve always tried to make sense of each of their story arcs from a “bigger picture” standpoint as each season progressed.

Anyway, before I can properly explain why the finale sucked, let me quickly take you through 15 seasons by segregating them into 3 eras, because you can’t really comprehend what Supernatural is about and what it’s become without going through how it tried to expand its universe.

SEASONS 1-5: THE KRIPKE ERA

Now, we all know that Kripke was always set in wrapping up Sam and Dean’s story in 5 seasons, and he did just that.

So, in this era, Supernatural is about two brothers who set out on a journey to fulfill “the family business”. They hunt mythical monsters that terrorize the world, while battling the monsters within themselves. Their ultimate “big bad” is an apocalypse.

Towards the end of this era, we find out that Sam and Dean are actually a parallel to Biblical characters who are brothers turned rivals. And that Sam and Dean’s destiny is to go up against each other.

However, as a dynamic, they have always been about making their own choices, choosing free will, and having a brotherly bond that can power through against any obstacle at any given day.

So, this era is neatly wrapped up with its finale. The characters grow, and get justified endings.

Dean, a man who thinks of himself as two things: 1. Sam’s older brother and protector; and 2. Daddy’s blunt little instrument.

He’s spent his whole life believing that that was his only purpose, and he knew that the only ending he’ll get would either be a bloody death fulfilling his duty to the family business; or laying his life on the line to save his brother.

Dean gets the ending he thought was never possible for him, something he thought he could never deserve. After years of living and dying for his family, he gets a shot at having an apple pie life--to settle down with a nice girl, raise a kid in a house with a white picket fence. With Sam gone, Dean’s responsibility now is to himself.

Sam, on the other hand, never wanted any part of it, because he wasn’t groomed the way Dean was, and because thanks to Dean, Sam wasn’t traumatized or forced into growing up too quickly the way Dean was.

So Sam aspires for a normal life, and works the cases with Dean so he can maybe get some semblance of it, when everything they set out to kill are laid to rest.

Ultimately, Sam performs a selfless act for his brother, who has given up everything for him, and for their cause--to save the world.

The journey is this: Dean sacrifices everything to save Sam, and Sam sacrifices himself so Dean could live.

Apart from being Dean’s “savior” and guardian angel, Castiel’s role in this era is to serve as a mirror to Dean’s journey. Castiel goes from being heaven’s foot soldier, following “God’s orders”; to an angel who learns to choose and feel for the first time in his existence.

After they realize that they’re both daddy’s blunt instruments, Dean starts choosing his own path for himself, and convinces Castiel to join him. Castiel stops following heaven, and starts following Dean.

In the end, with his newfound understanding of the world thanks to Dean, Castiel goes back to heaven to reform it.

We’ve resolved the biblical arc, and the character journeys.

SEASONS 6-10: THE SPIN-OFF ERA

So this is where the show realizes how vast its universe can be, so it tries to expand it by tapping into uncharted lands and experimenting with it.

They take on heaven, reform hell, explore purgatory, have the angels fall, turn Dean into a demon, and kill Death.

Dean and Sam recognize their codependency, and try to rise above it.

They go back and forth between which brother will risk it all for the greater good every other season.

Dean and Cas strengthen their relationship by recognizing the impact they have on each other’s lives.

Cas structures his life and decisions around Dean (Seasons 6-7), and Dean learns to trust and fight for Cas (Seasons 8-9).

Sam and Cas bond (mostly over Dean) because of their shared rationales in decision-making.

Dean, Sam, and even Cas also forge relationships with the people they work with. The concept of “found family” is introduced here.

This era was heavy on the plot while establishing, reinforcing, and solidifying relationships and dynamics.

At this point, it wasn’t just about the brothers anymore.

If Supernatural had ended in Season 10, the logical finale would’ve been Team Free Will, along with the family that they’ve found, going up against the latest big bad (Death or whoever). Maybe they lose them along the way, maybe they all make it out alive, or maybe they go down swinging, but at least the show recognizes and supports the message they keep saying, “Family don’t end with blood”

SEASONS 11-15: THE REWRITE ERA

This is where the show runs out of ideas and decides to invalidate the seasons that came before it.

From bringing Mary back (basically rendering their whole journey pointless because they’ve literally started hunting because of her death), to changing the stipulations in being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels (another character struggle rendered useless), to God himself breaking the fourth wall by saying that the Winchesters get away with everything because “they’re the main characters in his story and everything they’ve been through was just part of a badly written narrative”.

But what we’re getting from this era is that Sam and Dean, along with Cas (who has also deviated from the story) ARE trying to escape a badly written narrative.

That’s the “big bad” in this era. The writer.

At this point, the characters have picked up so many strays (including those from alternate universes), and have settled into their roles in their “found family”. Dean, Sam, and Cas all become surrogate dads and uncles.

They’ve also graduated from the whole “we’re on different sides” and “going behind each other’s backs” drama. And they just want the whole family together.

They’ve all resigned themselves to the cause, but they’re also tired. Dean allows himself to contemplate about wanting more out of life or at least getting a vacation. Sam, on the other hand, realizes his capabilities as an effective leader. Castiel learns to love another being that isn’t Dean (spoiler: it’s Jack).

However, they also realize that they’ve just been puppets on a string all this time.

So what they want now, is to write their own story, and make their own choices knowing that God/the writer isn’t the one fueling their narrative.

So here’s why the finale sucks:

Andrew Dabb, the current showrunner, said that there would be two finales.

15x19 - The finale to wrap up Season 15, and 15x20 - The finale to wrap up the series by “resolving the characters’ journey”

In 15x19 the boys find a way to de-power God/the writer. For the first time in their whole lives, they are free from the story. Their lives are completely theirs now. They can make their own decisions. There are no more “big bads” to fight

And here’s what happens in 15x20:

Immediately after being freed from their story arc, Dean and Sam go back to hunting the monster of the week.

Dean eats pie, gets nailed (literally), makes a 10-minute speech to Sam because he knows he’s dying, then he goes to heaven.

Dean is greeted by Bobby, his surrogate Dad who he hasn’t seen (fully alive) since Season 7. Bobby’s expository dialogue comprises of him explaining that he got out of heaven’s jail, that John and Mary are next door, and that Jack and Cas fixed the dynamics of heaven off-screen.

The first thing Dean decides to do is go for a long drive in his Impala (as if he hasn’t done enough of that already).

Meanwhile, Sam decides to stop hunting after Dean dies, he gets the apple pie life he hadn’t wanted since Season 8 (while Dean was in Purgatory), and names his kid “Dean” for effect. He grows old and dies.

Dean drove around in heaven for so long that Sam catches up to him.

They hug. The end.

Great, right?

After 15 years of struggling to battle their own respective destinies, going up against big bads and even bigger bads, then finally being able to take charge of their own stories, Dean and Sam regress to hunting the monster of the week, and get killed off by a nail and old age. Okay.

Sam gets to retire and have a family, sure, but they still focus on him and the kid he named after his dead brother. Still just “Sam and Dean” through and through. Nothing to do with found family. Just lineage. Just blood. And it ends there.

See, the problem here is that this ending would’ve been passable in The Kripke Era. But we’re 10 years down the road since, and while Sam and Dean are the original main characters, the show isn’t just about them and their codependent relationship anymore.

So you see, even if you take out the whole “Castiel deserves to be in the finale because he’s also a main character with an unfinished story arc” argument, the finale still does no justice to the series it tried to “wrap up”.

But anyway, now I’ll make the case for the problem with Castiel not being in the finale:

In 15x18, we get a 5-minute rushed confession from Castiel to Dean. The context of which are as follows:

1. Earlier in the episode, Dean had wounded Death with her scythe. We later find out that this wound is fatal.

2. Their friends start to “blip out” in a Thanos-like snap, and Dean thinks that Death is causing it, so Dean seeks her out, and Cas goes with him.

3. Dean and Cas anger Death, apparently for no reason because she didn’t even do the thing they thought she did. She chases them to try to kill them

4. Dean and Cas lock themselves in a room. Dean starts a pity party.

5. As Dean goes through hating himself out loud, Cas decides to inform Dean of the deal he made with The Empty. He then proceeds to explain the stipulation of the deal (that he would get taken once he experiences a moment of true happiness), then discusses his newfound happiness philosophy. Dean is getting whiplash.

6. Cas goes on to imply that the one thing that he wanted that he knew he couldn’t have is Dean Winchester reciprocating his romantic feelings for him. (Don’t even try to fight me on this because Cas already has Dean’s platonic love, and he knows that Dean thinks of him as a brother, so if he really meant this in a “familial” way, then why would he think that he couldn’t have the thing that would make him happy?) So Cas’ realization is that telling Dean about his feelings is enough to make him happy.

7. Cas tells Dean all the reasons why he loves him (thereby combating Dean’s self-deprecation tirade), and all the reasons why he’s worthy of his love. Meanwhile, Dean is still winded from the fact that Cas is about to sacrifice himself for him again.

8. Dean never gets to process anything, because Cas is shoving him out of the way, as he and Death (who busts through the door) get taken by The Empty.

After this episode, Dean never speaks of it. Misha Collins supposes that Dean doesn’t reciprocate. Jensen Ackles says that Dean didn’t really get to process it because it was too much, too fast, and that Dean, still dense as ever, thinks that Cas, a celestial being, doesn’t interpret human feelings the same way.

So what was the point of this confession?

Politics and sensitivities of a 2005 network television aside, what does this do for the story?

Cas proclaims his romantic feelings to Dean, but Dean never acknowledges it, doesn’t even give it a passing thought afterwards. So Cas’ big declaration goes unheard.

Cas cashes in on his Empty deal to kill Death (who was dying anyway), in order to save Dean who dies two episodes after.

Dean makes no effort to save Cas (despite being really broken up about his previous deaths, or even spending a whole year in Purgatory looking for him), even after they’ve beaten God, not even asking Jack (who has all the power in the universe) to bring him back (when Jack has already done it before, with less mojo).

Dean moves on to fight the monster of the week. Somewhere off-screen, Jack rescues Cas from The Empty, but Cas uncharacteristically doesn’t even bother to go to Dean? (Every single time he comes back, Dean’s always the first person he goes to)

And Cas, who apparently helped craft and reform the new heaven, isn’t the one who welcomes Dean and explains the new dynamics of it?

Sure, Jan.

Supernatural, you’ve created a finale that only your casual viewers and people who dipped out after Season 5 can appreciate.

Just goes to show how much you actually valued the people who actually invested in your story and characters, and consistently helped keep your show on the air.

[RT this on Twitter]

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 1)

Ben Drowned

You had promised, sworn on your very life, that you wouldn’t laugh. It was an oath. One to be taken very seriously.

“Using your hand to muffle the sound still counts as laughing.”

Part of you felt really bad but that made you snicker even harder. Your best friend, at the very least, did appear extremely shaken about the entire thing. She sat on the edge of the couch with her arms crossed. Dark bags had formed beneath her eyes and her attention seemed unable to stray from the Nintendo 64 that sat between you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “But you have to understand how this sounds. You’re telling me that you’re being haunted by a literal video game.”

She pulled her legs to her chest. The amount of weight that she had lost recently couldn’t possibly be healthy. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Have you considered talking to a psychiatrist?” you offered. “Or perhaps selling this game?”

“He would kill me.”

You picked up the Nintendo 64 and stared at the main menu of the game. It looked pretty normal to you. You fiddled around with the settings to turn the music down. “I really think that talking to somebody about this would help.”

“That’s what you don’t understand,” she said. “I want to stop playing. I want to speak to people but all that he wants is for me to continue trying to beat the game. There’s no way to win! The entire thing is rigged!”

“Have you looked up a guide?”

She groaned. “Nobody’s going to listen to me.”

An awkward silence fell over the room and you shifted around in your seat before offering some coffee. She accepted but the kettle had barely been boiling for a few seconds when her phone chimed happily.

“Oh look, he wants to play now,” she muttered. She thrust the device to you. “Take a look for yourself.”

The notification had come through an app called CleverBot. It was a very simple ‘hi’ message that didn’t really seem all too haunting. You opened it up and clicked around the app for a little. “Looks like just a chatroom,” you said. “Why’d you download this?”

“I didn’t. I just woke up the one day and it was on my phone.”

You closed the app and returned to the home screen. It immediately reopened and the same message popped up again. An identical thing happened the second time. And then again.

“This looks like a virus,” you said. “It’s probably best to uninstall.”

Clicking on the button made the icon disappear for a short while but it was quick to reappear. This time, when the chatroom opened itself, the message had changed to simply say ‘rude’.

You pursed your lips. That was suspicious enough for you to understand her potential worries. “I don’t think that it’s haunted but you should probably take it to a professional to have it wiped or something. And maybe consider less porn in the future?”

Your joke fell flat but it died when the chatbot began typing. Not too long after, another message had come through.

‘I don’t hang out in such places.’

“Can…” you trailed off. “No, there’s no way that they’ve hacked the microphone, right?”

‘Don’t need to hack in to hear what you’re saying.’

The colour drained from your face and you quickly glanced towards your friend. She didn’t seem panicked, even when you showed her the message. If anything, her expression was resigned as though this was a regular occurrence.

You didn’t get too much time to respond when a horrible static sound came through her phone. The screen began flashing and blurry images raced across it. A distorted version of the Majora’s Mask theme song started playing. It felt like your ears were bleeding. Scared, you threw the phone to the floor and, with a shattering crack, everything stopped.

For a while, you stared at it but then she said, “He’s going to be pissed with that.”

There was a chime from somewhere on your right. Your own phone’s screen lit up. Nervously, you reached over to check on it.

A single notification stood there, from an app called CleverBot.

‘You Shouldn’t Have Done That.”

Bloody Painter

The park was busy this time of day and filled with an awaiting audience – whether they were interested in watching the performance or not. Many seemed to appreciate it though, taking the flyers handed out by your group.

It was nearing midday when you ran out of pamphlets. You stretched and pushed your hair away from your face, relishing in the feeling of sun against skin.

Your gaze drifted across the park’s patrons before settling on one that you had been watching since the beginning of your performance. He didn’t look up much. A sketchpad sat on his lap and tousled brown hair hung over his face. You hadn’t caught his attention once but he had certainly kept yours.

“Can you hand me another lot of flyers?” you asked one of the other girls with her.

She handed them over and you put on your best grin before making your way to the tree he was sitting under.

He looked up when your shadow fell over his sketchbook. His work was considerably abstract and nothing that you could identify with ease. There weren’t too many colors though.

“Hello!” you greeted cheerily. “I don’t mean to bother but what did you think of the show?”

He blinked up at you. “I didn’t see it.”

The man was a master of deadpan but you didn’t allow your smile to drop. You lowered the flyer and sighed, “That’s a shame. It’s so rare that we have attractive people at our shows… you should consider coming to our actual performances sometime. Everybody loves musicals.”

He didn’t even react to the compliment. No smirk or even a blush. It was as though you hadn’t spoken one word.

“I’ve seen your face before,�� he said. “You do this kind of thing quite often. Don’t you get tired of people staring at you?”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t be in this line of business if I was too self-conscious. When they stare for too long, I like to imagine that it’s because I’m the most beautiful person they’ve ever seen.” Running your fingers through your hair, you offered him your most dazzling smile. “And if you remember me, that’s a certain compliment.”

“You can take it whatever way you want but it doesn’t mean anything.”

It was tempting to give up. Flirting with cute boys was only entertaining when they responded with… something. This boy just stared.

“So you’re an artist, right? You’d have a good point of view on whether or not I’m actually pretty.”

“My opinions on people are rarely accurate.”

His response made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. Something of a warning twisted in your stomach. A light had lit behind his eyes but it didn’t seem like something you wanted to tie yourself to.

It appeared it was time to give up your pursuit. “Well, I really should get going. Perhaps I’ll see you at the next performance.”

His eyes drifted to the pamphlet that you held. “Were you planning on giving me that?”

“Offering it but you don’t have to –“

“I’ll take it,” he said, putting down his pencil and holding out his hand. “Your show wasn’t too entertaining but I enjoyed watching the performance you just put on. Rather like a peacock strutting its feathers.”

So he wasn’t oblivious then… just teasing. You had no idea if it showed his genuine interest or if he was merely taunting now.

With a slight scowl, you passed it over. He tucked it into his sketchbook and then closed it, standing up. He was scrawnier than you had anticipated but he still had a considerable height – holding at least a few inches over you.

“Thank you,” you said.

He left without another word. You rolled your eyes and made a point to ignore any thoughts about him for the rest of the day. Perhaps you shouldn’t have given him your information… after all, that flyer had your full name and everything.

And you knew absolutely nothing about him.

Candy Pop

Hospitals were the worst places in the world.

They smelled too clean and looked too false. You generally avoided them as much as possible unless it was absolutely necessary. When a close family member found themselves locked within the walls, unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to stay away.

You wrinkled your nose as you walked into the room. The sterilized smell burnt you.

Most of it was what you had expected but the young, child-like scream made you jump and nearly drop every gift you were holding.

Your aunt jumped up from her chair beside the hospital bed. “What’s wrong?!” she asked, fussing over your cousin.

She was barely over eleven and had badly injured her leg during a biking competition. Your mom had told you that everybody in the family was going to visit her, encouraging you to go together in order to drop off some gifts.

“I’m sorry,” the little girl said quickly. “I don’t like balloons and I thought… it doesn’t matter. Sorry.”

You moved them behind you a little, trying to block her line of sight. “No, no, I should have asked first. You could have been allergic to latex or something and then I’d be feeling really bad about it.”

“She’s been particularly on edge thanks to these awful nightmares,” your aunt explained.

“Nightmares?” you asked.

The little girl seemed pale at its mention, pulling her blanket up to her nose and watching everybody wearily. “They’re just bad dreams,” she said. “You said that they couldn’t hurt me.”

Her mother hurriedly rubbed her shoulder and offered a warm smile. “They definitely can’t,” she reassured.

“Are they about the fall?” you asked.

“Sometimes.”

You settled down in one of the chairs as your own mother began speaking to her sister. They were able to discuss everything from the colour of grass to what they thought would be the best country to live in. You weren’t particularly interested in what they were saying and, after a while of trying to chirp in, you just let the lack of sleep catch up to you.

Your dreams came to you quickly, faster than usual and sharp in an uncomfortable sort of way.

You found yourself standing in a large field. The sky was grey and the grass tall enough to reach your knees. Everything felt bright. It hurt your eyes to stare at anything for too long.

Normally, dreams didn’t feel as such, but you were certain that this was one. There was no purpose to where you were. No inclination to walk in a specific direction or try to understand what was happening.

Just confusion.

You took a step forward and a soft wind wrapped around you. It brushed through the grass, dancing around the trees. Something was watching.

You turned and two, glowing lights floated above the ground.

Slowly, mist gathered around the two spots. As you stepped back, it began to solidify – quickly forming a more recognisable shape. The figure tilted its head to the side and a slight jingling sound filled the air. It stepped forward then and the glow faded from its eyes, revealing just what stood before you.

He was a jester, though certainly more modern than the old king’s versions. Blue hair hung around his shoulders and his entire outfit jingled with hundreds of bells. A smile graced his face and he stepped forward.

You moved away.

His smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. The mist appeared again and he vanished into it.

You looked around frantically. He was gone. The wind picked up unexpectedly, howling in your ears. You raised your hands to shield your face and something grabbed your wrist. Before you could turn to see, you hurdled away from the meadow and awoke spluttering for air.

“Are you alright?” your aunt asked.

In the corner of your eye, you swore you saw a blue jester but, when you turned to look, he was gone. “Yeah,” you said, rubbing your chest. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Your made eye contact with your cousin and swallowed thickly. The look on her face said it all.

Clockwork

Every night, without fail, you saw her sitting there when you arrived home from work.

She always wore the same thing and, initially, you had thought that she would play on her phone for hours at a time. It didn’t appear that she had a phone, however, as you came to realise. Whatever she was holding was circular and fit perfectly within the palm of her hand.

You mentioned it to the building manager the second time she was there until like two in the morning. He had said that they thought she was homeless but, as far as they could tell, she wasn’t dangerous. You reassured him that your worries weren’t about her presence due to any perceived problem but he had just nodded.

She never moved while she was waiting. Not even to adjust her weight or brush the hair from her face.

A few of your neighbours used the very eloquent reasoning that she was merely crazy.

Occasionally, you heard children from the area parroting their parents. Rumours abound that she was a ghost who would attack anybody if they spoke to her. You scoffed each time it was said but many believed the stories.

You were arriving home late one night when you spotted her sitting in the usual spot. It was strange for you to feel anything beyond exhaustion on the nights when hospital jobs ran too long but this time, a strange anticipation settled itself in your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Are you okay?”

Her hair was dirty and her coat looked as though it hadn’t been washed for years. Now that you were close, you could make out what appeared to be dried blood on her shirt.

“Go away,” she said, shaking her head from side to side.

“I have medical experience,” you responded. “And I know some good places to stay in the area. I can –“

“Good for you,” she sneered. “Leave me alone. You’re going to make me miss it.”

The object she was holding was an old pocket watch. It looked like something you would find in an antique store and pay insane amounts of money for. Though, it didn’t appear to be working. The clock hands sat at a set time and didn’t move in the slightest.

“I want to help you if that’s okay,” you said.

She forced out a laugh that sounded as though it physically pained her. “You want to help me?!” she cackled, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Isn’t that sweet.”

You stumbled away from her and clasped a hand over your mouth. Her face…

Her mouth was torn to pieces, jagged cuts that ripped through the skin there and had been crudely stitched back together. But that wasn’t the worst. No, the worst part of it was her left eye that had a pocket watch shoved into the socket and forcefully stitched there. The injury flared red with infection and pain.

“What’s wrong little doctor?!” she cawed. “No longer feeling like saving the poor girl you found on the side of the road?”

You steeled your resolve and straightened. “I’m still willing to offer help if you need it,” you said in your strongest voice. “That injury is severe and needs attending to if you want to save the eye.”

The eye was definitely gone and she knew it as well, scoffing at your offer. “No chance of that. Why do you people like pretending that you care?”

“I do care.”

She responded with a mocking expression and stood unexpectedly. “Sure you do.” She tapped the front of the pocket watch with her nail. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get to work. I nearly missed it thanks to your nagging. I’ll see you tomorrow, doctor.”

And she marched off into the night.

Dark Link

The vase that you were holding was beautifully polished and almost brand new. As you lifted it, something rattled around within.

“Why are you selling this for such a low price?” you asked.

The woman was middle-aged with a falsely high voice and bright, darting eyes. “It was a gift,” she said. “But I decided against keeping it. I wasn’t sure how low the price should be but it’s not like I’m losing any money.”

You decided against buying it, thanking her and walking away quickly. While you were looking through a few pieces of jewelry, your arm was grabbed and a small object pushed into your chest.

“Here you go!” you friend chimed. “Consider it to be a late birthday present!”

You took the game cartridge and examined it closely. “Zelda, again?” you asked. “I’ve already tell you that –“

“Yes, yes, I know that they’re not your thing but if you haven’t tried all the games then how are you meant to know there isn’t just one that you like?”

Sighing, you took the game and dropped it into your purse. It was dirty and definitely well used. A bit of black paint flaked off on your fingers.

Another game for you to keep in your cupboard and not look at again until months later when you were asked about your opinion on it. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t have the console you needed and the simple answer of ‘just buy one for cheap’ wasn’t always available.

But in the coming weeks, you quickly realised that this wasn’t just another game.

At first, the things that went wrong were too minor to even pay attention to. Electronics started breaking frequently until the point where you had replaced your stereo twice in a week and no longer had a television. After that, you started feeling sickly and uncomfortable whenever you were in the house. A feeling of imposing nature settled upon your shoulders.

You spent more time away from home, staying away for as long as you could. When you tried to dogsit for your brother, the pup wouldn’t even enter the house.

It was late at night when you woke up in a cold sweat. Nausea coiled in your stomach and your heart was beating at the speed of light.

At first, you had no idea what had woken you.

And then you heard the rattling.

It was coming from the next room over. As though somebody had taken hold of your desk and was shaking it as roughly as they could.

You scrambled for your phone but it wasn’t there. It was sitting in your office.

You took a deep breath and slowly stepped from your bed. Your head felt fuzzy, as though you weren’t able to wake up properly. Every step was slow and lethargic.

Stumbling toward the door, you gingerly grabbed the handle. As you opened it, your mind caught up with your body and you remembered that you shouldn’t just burst in on a potential invader.

But it was too late.

The person, for it had to be a person, stood in the middle of the room. Its body was so dark that it blended in with the shadows surrounding it. Two bright red eyes shone, illuminating enough that it showed some of the creatures ashen features. It had sharp features that were definitely human. Though as you stared at it, you knew that it was anything but.

It smiled and began turning into small squares, pixelating into the air and disappearing into something behind it.

You flicked on the light as fast as you could but it was gone. Sitting in the middle of the desk, the black cartridge seemed to emit its own darkness.

Dr. Smiley

The building was beyond restoration, crumbling and derelict. You were sure that it hadn’t been occupied for at least a decade. Perhaps even longer.

For months now, you had been going through the motions to have everything approved and organised. You had gotten clearance, hired the workers, discussed things with any neighbours, and even paid extra for the best machinery to get everything done quicker.

And now they were refusing to do anything.

“I’m sorry, and I will compensate for the time wasted, but my men are saying no,” the on-site manager said. “I know you’re not from these parts but we’ve always known there’s something wrong with this building. Rumours and superstitions abound and I wouldn’t blame my men for not wanting to anger a ghost.”

“They’ll be pissing off something far worse than a ‘ghost’ if they continue refusing to even go in there,” you snapped.

He glanced towards his workers and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once he left, you turned your attention to the house. Why anybody would have wanted a house in this location was beyond you but now that you had inherited it, you could see potential.

Although the entire place was probably crawling with all manners of disgusting flora.

Perhaps you could use that to get the health counsel to do the job for you.

They will still talking and you could see the weariness on their faces. Sighing, you stalked your way to the front door and pushed it open with one hand. It creaked with the effort.

You stood with your hands out towards the men. “I’m going to walk this entire house!” you called. “And if your ghost doesn’t accost me while I’m there, then I’m going to be expecting you to all get on with it, alright?”

Nothing immediately jumped at you when you entered. The door struggled to open and it swung shut on its own accord. If that was the haunting that they were talking about…

A roach skittered along the floor in front of you, darting under a derelict sofa stained with an unknown substance. Several of the windows had been broken so it wasn’t surprising to find that graffiti and markers had been used to etch various names into the walls.

You walked through a destroyed kitchen, passed a bedroom with a smashed crib, and even kicked open a door that led to a filthy storage room.

No ghost jumped out at you.

Problems started presenting themselves when you walked down one of the hallways and pushed open a bedroom door. The entire room felt set apart from the rest of the place with almost-new curtains that had been drawn shut. Blankets covered the bed, dirty but still there. You immediately thought somebody may be squatting there but your concerns changed when you noticed the wall.

Black mold. It crawled its way up the side, covering most of what had once been white wallpaper. You brought one hand up to shield your mouth and stepped out, slamming the door closed.

If there was an infestation then you had to get the health department immediately. This was –

Your thoughts were interrupted by something grabbing you. Panic filled your mind as a sharp weapon was pressed against your throat.

“Well now, I just know that you don’t have an appointment,” a voice said close to your ear. “I don’t like trespassers.”

Thinking on instinct, you threw your head backwards as hard as you could. There was a satisfying impact followed by a loud yelp of pain. The weapon around your throat moved away so you kicked the guy in the shin and bolted for it.

The house felt bigger while you were running but nobody came after you. You didn’t hear any footsteps or other sounds of a chase.

Bursting through the front door, you winced at the bright light. The house hadn’t seemed nearly that dark until compared to the outside.

You collided with one of the workers in your rush and nearly knocked everybody to the ground.

“What’s happened?”

“It was that ghost, I’m telling you.”

“We warned her, boss.”

You cleared your throat and straightened up, making eye contact with each man individually. “There is no ghost,” you said. “Only a squatter who I shall deal with using police force if needed. However, I do believe any construction will have to wait because I saw an excessive spread of black mold within the house.”

They all spoke amongst themselves, discussing options. You glanced back to the house and allowed your attention to find its way to the bedroom window. Though fleeting, a masked face peered out at you from within.

Eyeless Jack

In many ways, what happened that night was your boss’ fault.

Having just finished working a double shift that ended at almost 1 in the morning, you were exhausted upon returning home. You walked past the neighbouring apartment with only one thought on your mind – sleep.

It was then that you heard a thump coming from within the house, followed shortly by a muffled scream.

Tired, you had to pause to register what was happening and, by the time your brain caught up, your heart was in full-on panic mode. You slowly reached into your pocket and dialed the emergency number as slowly as you dared, whispering into the phone and being reassured that a police presence would be arriving shortly.

Your neighbour was a young man though, just out of rehab and beginning to make his way through life. The longer you stood and waited for the police, the guiltier you felt.

So you reached into the pot plant and pulled out his spare key. After a short while of building yourself up, you unlocked the door and crept inside.

It was dark with the outside world shrouded via heavy curtains. You could barely make your way through the unfamiliar apartment and you didn’t dare turn on the light. Damn, you were extremely tired.

Part of your brain suggested that you had imagined the whole thing. It was a byproduct of a sleep-addled mind or something. That would be embarrassing to explain to the police and to your neighbour. Would you get charged for breaking and entering or could you blame it on your tiredness?

Your doubts didn’t get much further than that because somebody grabbed you from within the room.

A horrible iron-filled scent attacked your senses as you took in the bedroom. It looked like your neighbour was tied to the bed though he wasn’t moving. Somebody stood behind you, their breathing heavy and their grip strong.

They pushed your wrist closer to your back, preventing you from wriggling free of their grip. A blade, small and yet sharp, pressed against the side of your throat.

“Trying to play the hero, are we?” snarled a voice. “Have you called the cops?”

The blade pressed against your skin and you quickly spat out a yes.

“Probably right before you came in, if not earlier… I’d have enough time to kill you but then you’d be an absolute waste. Nowhere to stash a body around here and they’d comb the entire area if you were missing…”

“I didn’t mean –“

You were shoved forward before you had a chance to react. In the dark, you couldn’t make anything out and you hit the wall unexpectedly. Now, far enough away, you turned and tried to make out the face of your assailant. He melded in with the shadows and you ran your fingers along the wall until you found a light switch.

The lights flickered on and you gasped.

He wore a dark blue mask, a black ooze dripping from the eye sockets and onto his hoodie. There was no reaction to the lights. Not even a blink.

“Don’t you want to beg for your life?” he asked. “The other one pleaded nearly constantly until I shut him up.”

“You killed him…”

“He isn’t dead, just unconscious,” the man scoffed. “I try to avoid killing them, if I’m able to.”

“The police will be here soon,” you warned.

“Oh I know. That’s the only reason that I’m leaving this very minute.” He made his way over to the window, never turning to stop facing you. The bedroom window slipped open without a sound and he began climbing out. “I’d keep my doors locked if I was you. Plenty of unsavory characters live in these parts.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Glitchy Red

Your younger cousin squealed excitedly, holding the game to her chest in joy. “I love it so much!” she said. “I can’t believe I used to think Pokémon was for babies. At first when the music randomly cut out, I did think it was super weird but I’ve gotten used to it now.”

“I don’t think it’s meant to do that,” you chuckled. “But cheap versions, you know?”

It was good to see that your last-minute gift hadn’t gone to waste. You had been worried that the present’s fun would be lost on your video game-hating cousin but she had actually decided to give the game a shot. Now you had somebody in the family to speak to which was extraordinarily exciting.

“What are you meant to say to Red when he asks you whether or not he’s a joke?” she aske unexpectedly. “I know that if you say no, he goes away, and I’ve been too scared to try the other option.”

You frowned. “I don’t actually remember that part of the game.”

“Really? But it happens so often.”

When she realised that you really hadn’t encountered anything like that in the game before, she told you to wait a minute and came back with her game.

“There was one around here,” she said, loading in. “Just give me a second and I’ll find it.”

You stayed much later than you had originally intended to that night. The two of you played through a lot of the game, waiting for the moment when Red would break the fourth wall and demand to know about your opinions on him.

It never came.

The game ran incredibly smoothly. It was quite odd. There weren’t any hiccups along the way nor horror-style glitches. The music didn’t even cut off which was apparently rare accourding to your cousin.

After a while, she sighed and handed it to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why it’s not breaking. I’ll go make us some food.”

You continued playing while she was gone, enjoying the memories that came with the game. It was as fun as you remembered until about five minutes after she left. The music just shut off unexpectedly and, no matter what you did, it refused to come back at all. Any other sound effects worked fine though.

“So you’re just programed to break when only one person’s in the room?” you joked.

Perhaps that was a bad choice.

Unexpectedly, a loud static erupted from the console, so ear-aching that it felt like your ears began to bleed. The game took on a horrible red tint and Red appeared on the screen, a dialogue box appearing beneath his blackened form.

AM I A JOKE TO YOU?

Horrified, you immediately shut down the game and threw the cartridge as far away from you as possible. You raced at full speed into the kitchen, nearly knocking several things over along the way.

“You have got to throw that game,” you wheezed.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“There is something really fucked up with that game…” you said. “That thing with Red is absolutely not meant to happen. It felt like he was staring into my soul. You have to throw it out the moment you can. I will buy you another one but do not keep that.”

“Oh, alright,” she said, seemingly confused but nowhere as shaken as you were.

A faint static came from the living room, sending shivers down your spine.

Hobo Heart

Tears flowed down your face despite your best attempts to remain composed. “I’ve known for a while now,” you managed to say.

Your ex-boyfriend seemed shocked, though not entirely upset about your admission. “How long –“

“Since last week,” you said. “Though I’ve heard it’s been going on for considerably longer.”

He shifted his weight and took a deep breath. You recognised this behavior from the past, already hearing the words you knew were coming. The apologies and the false regret, the promises about not doing it again, and then the eventual guilt-tripping. If you heard the latter, you weren’t sure your resolve would hold.

“Goodbye,” you said firmly.

“Wait!”

You ignored the calls, making your way home at a steady place. A few people offered you concerned looks so you rubbed away the tears and took a few deep breaths.

Several months of your life had been completely wasted. You had put so much time and energy into a person who didn’t care one ounce about you.

Just great.

You turned onto your street and made your way to the house across from your own. The woman who lived there was always busy and she only came home to feed her dog before disappearing again. Thankfully, she trusted you to spend time with Bruno.

Bruno came racing over to the gate and jumped up for head scratches. He was a beautiful Afghan Hound with a dark coat and bright eyes.

“At least I know that you’ll always be by my side,” you said, running his fingers through the dog’s fur.

A tear slipped out and you quickly rubbed it away. You dug around in your bag and took out a couple treats, offering him.

A second bark brought your attention to the street.

Standing there, a small white dog with a scruffy coat stared up at you. It looked friendly enough and, after cautiously checking it out, you crouched down and gave it a treat.

“Hello,” you cooed. You gave the pup a few scratches and smiled. “How are you doing, hm? No collar? But you must have an owner because your coat is all groomed and soft. Did you get out or slip your leash?”

You looked around the streets to see if anybody. Nobody jumped out so you gave the dog another treat and brought it into the garden with Bruno to protect it from cars.

The two barked and played with little issue and you messages friends and family about the events of the day.

It was about half an hour later when the air was starting to get chilly. You stood and the small scruffy dog began barking excitedly. Its tail whipped through the air and it jumped up against the fence. A man wearing a white hoodie was standing down the street. You glanced at the dog, scooped it up and made your way to where he was.

“Excuse me,” you said. “I think that I found your dog.”

He turned to look at you and you startled slightly at his rather unusual face paint. A white skull was painted onto his face, similar to something you would see at a college convention.

He glanced down at the happy dog and sighed. “So that’s where he got to.”

“I’m sorry if you were looking for him. I took him off the street to protect him from any cars or anything.”

“It’s fine. He always shows up eventually,” the guy said. “You can just put him down. He’ll follow me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Then he turned and started walking away. You hurriedly put the dog down and it immediately bounded after him, falling into step directly beside him. They disappeared around a corner and you returned to your own house.

The day had gotten much warmer suddenly.

[scripttorture]

One of the central characters in a fantasy story I'm writing has torture as part of her backstory. She was captured by an evil race, and one individual in particular put her through a "training" regime designed to turn her into a useful/trustworthy slave. Specifically the goals of the training were:

- destroy her sense of self / agency

- overwrite her ingrained response of healing herself when injured (she has magical healing powers)

- an affectionate or worshipful disposition towards her captors

- immediate obedience to any command

I feel like both physical and psychological torture / mental conditioning are probably appropriate, though I'm leaning away from including sexual abuse. I honestly don't know much about torture at all and the only things that come to mind as producing a result similar to what I'm looking for are the Game of Thrones torture sequence and the use of obdience collars in the Codex Alera book series. The latter is very interesting to me because it is a magical device that inflicts pain in reaction to disobedience but also inflicts pleasure to reward obedience.

I guess I'm just wondering if you have any advice for what kinds of methods would be good to include in a process designed to produce obedience, rather than torture for its own sake or to extract information, as well as if there are any common pitfalls I should try to avoid in writing about such a thing.

The training itself won't be in the book, but I need to be familiar with it for backstory purposes because later in the story this character encounters her torturer again, and is subjected to some further abuse before she finally overcomes her fear and kills him.

Alright well I’m going to be straight up with you: the scenario you’ve presented is a very common torture apologist trope. It’s incredibly unrealistic. And it’s unrealistic in ways that support torture by claiming it can be ‘useful’.

 Which probably means that you’re new to the blog and haven’t heard me give this talk before. That’s OK, we all learn sometime and it’s not my intention to shame you for the fact you’re not as obsessed with this stuff as I am or couldn’t afford to shell out for the books.

 Torture does not produce obedience. The best evidence we have right now suggests it encourages active resistance.

 If you got a lot of your inspiration from Game of Thrones then frankly I’m not surprised you came up with apologia. The torture in that series is incredibly badly handled. And a big part of the point of running this blog is that most people are getting their information on torture from shows like that. Which happens because the research is inaccessible and hasn’t been popularised the way fictional tropes (sometimes fictional tropes literally started by torturers) have been popularised.

 The important thing is what you choose to do now.

 I’m going to break down the problems here and make some suggestions for what you could do instead.

 Firstly: there is no torture or abuse that will guarantee obedience. Pain does not make people meek or compliant or willing to follow commands.

 Torture survivors are not broken.

 They are not ‘controlled’ by their torturers and the suggestion that they are is used in the real world to bar real survivors from treatment. It is also used to bar them from entering safe countries and to argue that they shouldn’t be allowed visas or passports.

 The best statistics we have for any sort of compliance under torture come from analysis of historical French data where torture was used to try and force confessions (something we know torture can sometimes do).

 The ‘success’ rate averaged at 10%. Under torture 90% of people will not comply long enough to sign their name.

 Secondly: torture does not and can not ‘make’ a victim feel ‘worshipful’ towards their torturer. The suggestion is kind of like asking if someone can tap dance immediately after removing the bones from their legs.

 Torturers have no control over a victim’s emotions. They have no control over their symptoms. They have no control over their beliefs.

 And there is no such thing as a torture that can change someone’s mind in a way torturers can control.

 Once again, this fictional trope is used by politicians and the media to justify marginalising real torture survivors.

 I have read hundreds, possibly thousands, of accounts from torture survivors. I’ve read historic and modern accounts. I’ve read accounts from all sort of people from all over the globe. I have never seen a survivor say anything positive about their torturers. I have never seen anything close to toleration.

 A lot of survivors are blisteringly angry at their torturers. A lot of them feel overwhelming levels of spite and some report literally putting themselves at risk of death in order to spite their torturers. And yes, a lot of them are afraid too. None of these emotions are mutually exclusive.

 Affection is impossible. We are not wired that way.

 Thirdly: I understand that ‘evil races’ are a long standing fantasy trope but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the racism inherent in that idea. That some people are ‘born bad’.

 I’d strongly suggest you look up the Black, Indian and First Nations people that I know are on this site critiquing these kinds of fantasy tropes. Because they will be able to explain it better then I can.

 Fourthly: the term ‘psychological torture’ is a pretty common dog whistle for torture apologia.

 Most of the time tortures that people dub ‘psychological’ are things with real, physical effects that lead to lasting injury and death. They just don’t tend to leave obvious external scars. I use Rejali’s term ‘clean torture’ for these techniques. Researchers distinguish them from scarring tortures because they are harder to detect and prove in court.

 The majority of survivors today will have experienced clean torture. They will have no obvious physical scars. But they will still be disabled. They’re ‘just’ less likely to see any form of justice for it.

 Fifthly: torture is a terrible training method because it decreases a person’s ability to learn.

 Torture causes memory problems. It also often causes lasting physical injuries that make performing basic tasks more difficult. And it causes a lot of serious psychological problems which make performing basic tasks more difficult.

 A trained person who was never tortured will always out perform someone whose training involved torture.

 I probably sound quite angry here.

 I write fantasy and I also write about torture a lot. But I can’t imagine that it’s just flavour for a fantasy world or some artefact of the past. Torture is a real, present threat in the country that I grew up in. If I was to return now I could, literally, be tortured and executed.

 If you want to include torture in your world, in your story then you are committing to telling someone else’s story. You are representing an incredibly marginalised group of people and you are presenting that representation to a third group, one that has never had contact with real torture survivors.

 Are you comfortable with the idea of telling your peers that survivors are still controlled by ‘the enemy’? That they’re passive? That they don’t have the capacity to make their own decisions?

 Are you comfortable knowing that the popularity of this message keeps millions of genocide survivors in refugee camps, blocked from citizenship, aid and safety?

 I understand feeling attached to a story and a character. And I understand that this information is hard to find. Hell I’m probably going to end up with the only English copy of one of the pivotal textbooks because I’m shelling out to get it translated.

 You say you want to write a torture survivor. With respect I don’t think you know what a torture survivor looks like.

 I think the most helpful, and kindest, thing I can do here is describe what torture does to people. Because I can’t tell you whether that’s something you want to write. I could try and rebuild this scenario for you (and if you decide you’re interested in that after reading all of this and all the links then I suggest looking through the blog tags for ICURE, torture as training, Black Widow and Overwatch.) But I think you need to decide whether you actually want to write a torture survivor first.

 Here’s a post on the most common torture apologia tropes.

 Here’s the post on the types of memory problems torture commonly causes. I strongly recommend picking at least one.

 Remember that this would never go away. Improvement and recovery in torture survivors means learning to live with symptoms. The symptoms themselves are permanent.

 It’s a hundred different alarms set up on their phone to try and make up for the forgetfulness that makes them miss appointments. It’s the little bottle of perfume in their pocket to bring themselves back to reality when they get intrusive memories at work.

 Here’s a post on the other common symptoms.

 You want something in the range of 3-5 of those, though more are likely if your character is held for years. Each of them should be severe. Every single symptom should have a large, negative, impact on the character’s daily life.

 Do you know anyone with chronic pain? It warps their world. Work can become impossible. Basic household tasks like getting dressed, cooking, cleaning the dishes are done through gritted teeth or not at all. Hobbies and ‘fun’ activities dwindle as they struggle to find a way to do them that doesn’t hurt. Interaction with other people, even loved ones, can easily become barbed.

 Because the pain makes everything more difficult. It means everything takes more energy, more effort. Which means that things fall by the wayside, whether that’s by a pile of mouldering dishes in the sink or snapping at a child. It means tears and the social judgement that follows them. It means the world narrowing as it gets harder to go out.

 Do you see what I mean? Every part of life.

 That’s an example for one symptom. You need to work out at least four. Then figure out how they interact. Then figure out what the character can do to make her life better.

 With chronic pain that can mean painkillers but it’s always more then that. It’s re-learning how to do things; how to put on trousers without aggravating the bad knee, how to sew with one hand. It means learning to cut down on what they do and it means learning a new sort of flexibility; accepting that there are days when the pain is too much.

 It can mean having the same conversation about disability over and over again. With family, with friends, with colleagues. ‘I can’t do that.’ ‘I can do that sometimes but not always.’ ‘That will hurt me.’ ‘I can’t use that chair.’ ‘I can’t get my arms that high above my shoulders.’ ‘I need help with this.’

 And that sometimes means learning a kind of patience that is really barely held back rage. Or perhaps I’m projecting a little with this last one.

 If you’ve never met a torture survivor, if you’ve never looked at a survivor’s work, then all this is difficult. You’re trying to imagine something from first principals with nothing to fall back on.

 So let’s bring some survivors into the discussion here. Some reality.

 Who’s listened to Fela? How about Bobi Wine?

 Fela Kuti was the father of modern Afro beats music. He was tortured multiple times and during one attack, which destroyed his home, his mother was murdered by the military. When he got out of jail Fela marched her funeral procession past the biggest barracks in Nigeria’s biggest city. He wrote two songs about this attack and he doubled down on his opposition to the military government.

 Fela’s music started causing riots.

 You can read what I have to say about him here. You can listen to his music on youtube.

 Here’s an interview with Bobi Wine, which was conducted shortly after he was tortured in Uganda. He talked about how he was determined to go back and continue fighting. Which he did. He even ran against the president.

 I’ve also got a short piece on Searle who was a cartoonist captured by the Japanese during World War 2. His drawings of what happened in To the Kwai and Back are worth seeing. Especially if you want to write atrocities on this scale. They will show you the scale and how to focus on the small, human elements despite that overwhelming scale.

 Alleg’s The Question is pretty much a must, it’s one of the most thorough accounts from the Franco-Algerian war.

 Monroe’s A Darkling Plain is also a must, it’s a series of interviews with survivors of various different conflicts and atrocities. Some are torture survivors. Some are not. It is essential reading because it shows the variety in survivors as well as giving a sense of their lives beyond the symptoms.

 Finally Amnesty International has literally hundreds of interviews and studies available for free online.

 The most important decision for any story with regards to torture is whether it should be there at all.

 So much of this topic is intimidating and so much of it is difficult to write. Not just in the ‘oh this is horribly effecting’ sense but in the ‘I have twelve things to juggle in this simple scene’ sense.

 Ask yourself what torture adds to this character and this story. What does this backstory actually give this character?

 Because if the point is to have her vulnerable and then ultimately triumphing violently over her attackers I don’t think you want a torture scenario. You could get the same thing from a bad guy trying to drug her and having the kidnapping fail when she fights him off, clumsy but effective nonetheless.

 And she could still come out of something like that traumatised.

 Right now I really don’t see this adding anything but torture apologia to your story.

 Handling torture well in a story means accepting that it can’t be the same story without it. It means watching the characters and narrative warp under the weight of it. It means lasting effects, for all the characters and for the world itself.

 I believe you are capable of writing that if you want to, pet. But this ain’t it.

Edit: I’m having trouble seeing the beginning of the answer here. Can anyone let me know if there are formatting issues again please? The first word in the htmal is ‘Alright’ but what I’m seeing on tumblr starts 8 paragraphs in.

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[allthatyoulove]

12:51

Modern/Highschool AU James “Bucky” Barnes / Reader

Summary: Your ex best friend and his new band are performing for the first time and you decide to go watch them perform. You didn’t expect the song to be about you.

Warnings: angst, cussing, fluff

Words: 2.5k

A/N: My first one-shot!!! This was inspired by the song 12:51 by The Strokes! Let me know what you think, and give me any suggestions for future one-shots! (Also let me know if I missed any warnings) Thanks for stopping by :)

You know when you can feel, deep down somewhere, that whatever you’re about to do is a dumb fucking idea? I don’t know why I was ignoring that feeling, but there was nothing that could stop me now.

I shivered, wrapping my arms tighter around myself as I walked down the dimly lit street. As I got closer to my destination, the music coming from inside the house started to become louder. I pulled my hand from the inside of my jacket where I attempted to keep it warm to check the time.

12:45.

I had snuck out of my house to go to this party everyone was going to. It was a Friday night, and I was originally thinking of skipping this week’s party, until I found out who was playing.

Bucky Barnes.

Or, I guess, James Barnes.

James and I had been best friends since we were kids. I can’t even remember how we met, I just remember us being attached at the hip since kindergarten. We lived in the same houses, right next to each other, through our entire lives. We went through all of our worst phases together.

I started to get feelings for him in middle school, when I realized that was a thing that happened when you started to grow up. I never told him, scared I would ruin our friendship, and our lives continued as they always have.

Then, highschool started.

Bucky and I began our rebellious phase together, starting to sneak out every Friday night to the party that was happening that week. We would get forties and lay on the roof of our houses afterwards around 1 am, looking at the stars and talking or doing karaoke to our favorite songs. I fell more and more in love with him every day.

Towards the end of freshman year, the upperclassmen at the parties we went to started to take notice of him. They would dare him to jump off the roof into the pool, or to drink as much as he could through a beer funnel. And he would do it, always the people pleaser. They liked how he listened to them, and took him under their wing.

He stopped hanging out with me after that.

I would go up to him, and he would say he had to go to his next class or that his friends were waiting up for him so he couldn’t talk. He wouldn’t let me call him Bucky anymore, because everyone knew him as James and he didn’t want to explain our relationship, or lack-thereof, to them.

Eventually we stopped hanging out altogether, avoiding each other in school and day-to-day, and pretended we never knew each other.

It’s not like I didn’t have or make new friends, because I did, but it was never the same. Bucky- or, James- and I’s bond was something special. Something I couldn’t find with anyone else. I tried to adapt to the friends around me, tried to like the things they liked, but I always felt like James was the only person I could open up to.

Now we’re seniors, and James had started a band with a couple of his friends earlier that year. This party was the first time they were performing in front of people, and I wanted to go watch. I was curious.

A couple minutes later I finally walked into the party, looking around through the crowd of people. I said hi to a group of people I knew, when I heard him.

“Hey everyone, how are you guys feeling tonight?”

The crowd gave a response of shouts and cheers. While everyone looked towards the direction of the stage, I took the distraction as a chance to make my way towards them.

I found my way towards the front, standing behind a couple of people that were a couple of feet from the stage.

And there he was.

He was in a black shirt and black biker jacket with black jeans. His hair was tucked behind his ears, with a few strands in front of his face from slightly leaning down to the mic.

He looked good.

It wasn’t a very big or high stage, being that it’s in someone's house, but it made the view of them much easier to see.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he laughed, “Well, my friends and I here got a song we’d like to perform for you. This one is called 12:51.”

More cheers erupted from the crowd.

I stood there, putting my hands in my jacket pockets, looking up at him. The people in front of me moved slightly to group with their friends, moving me more towards the front.

We made eye contact as I got shoved slightly towards the front. His eyes blinked a couple times, mouth slightly falling open upon seeing me for the first time. He blushed a little before the sound of the bass and drums started to play, snapping him back into reality. He looked down for a second before grabbing the mic and looking back up at me. I kept my gaze neutral, waiting for him to sing.

“Talk to me now, I’m older

Your friend told you ‘cause I told her

Friday nights have been lonely

Change your plans and then phone me”

He pulled away from the mic, clapping to the beat as he kept his gaze on me. He looked sad, not moving from my eyes as he began to sing again.

“We could go and get forties

Fuck going to that party

Oh really, your folks are away now?

Alright, let’s go, you convinced me”

My mouth slightly fell open at the first line, my eyes tearing up as he seemingly sang that line to me. My brows furrowed as I listened to the lyrics.

“12:51 is the time

My voice found the words I sought

Is it this stage I want?

The world is shutting out for us

Oh, we were tense for sure

But we was confident”

He grabbed the mic with both hands, making it obvious he was looking at me as he sang the rest of the song.

“Kiss me, now that I’m older

I won’t try to control you

Friday nights have been lonely

Take it slow but don’t warn me

We’d go out and get forties

Then we’d go to some party

Oh really, your folks are away now?

Alright I’m coming, I’ll be right there”

He stepped back from the mic, panting as the song finished. Everyone began to cheer and clap, as I stood there stunned. A tear had rolled down my cheek sometime before the song finished and I wiped it away as I stood there looking at him.

He looked around at the rest of the crowd briefly, smiling and saying thank you as he blew kisses towards the crowd.

I turned to leave as I pushed my way through the cheering group of people. A few tears begrudgingly fell as I tried to find my way out.

I didn’t know what to think.

The things he mentioned in the song were too specific to be about anyone else. What hurt the most was finding out how he felt about me like this. We hadn’t spoken in over 2 years. Now he’s in a band, writing songs about how he misses me and wants me to kiss him?

Fuck, I need a drink.

I made a detour to the kitchen before leaving to look for some alcohol. The kitchen island had many choices to choose from, all of the bottles sprawled across the table. I grabbed the first one I saw and drank from the bottle.

The burn of the drink going down my throat was exactly what I needed.

I wiped at my mouth with my sleeve as I put the bottle down and took a second to let the liquor go down.

I went back to my original route to the front door, when the group of friends I talked to earlier stopped me.

“Hey where ya going? We’re all thinking of doing s'more shots, wanna join?”

“I think I’m gonna head home, not really in the party mood anymore.”

“D’ya need someone to bring you home?”

I looked around the group, all of them struggling to stand up straight or laughing at nothing.

“No I’ll be fine. Thanks though, have a nice night.”

“Okay byeeeeeeee!!!”

I laughed and shook my head, turning to finish my walk out the door when someone called my name. I knew that voice. It was a voice I could recognize anywhere, no matter the amount of alcohol in my body or the blaring music that resumed over the speakers. I rushed out the door, turning left and speed-walking the way I came.

“Hey! Wait!” I heard the sound of someone running behind me.

Well, shit, I’m not gonna break into a sprint to get away from him.

I stopped walking on the sidewalk, turning around to face him.

He finished jogging up to me, out of breath. He stood there for a second staring at me and panting.

"Did you run over to me just to stare or do you have something you'd like to talk about?"

He laughed faintly, shaking his head at the ground and using his hand to push the side of his hair back.

"Sorry, I- uh, yeah I wanted to talk to you. It's been a while."

"Yup" I said, popping the "p". I lightly rocked back and forth on the heels of my feet as we looked at each other. I was getting impatient with standing here trying to decipher whatever code he was speaking in. Whatever he was trying to say needed to find its way out.

"So, what'd you think of the song?"

"Bucky" I sighed, "I think I should-"

"Y'know you're the only one who ever calls me Bucky"

I stopped mid-sentence, taking a second to process what he said.

"Until you told me to stop. Guess it's a still a habit"

He sighed and looked down, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"Listen. Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for treating you so badly, and I'm sorry for ditching you like that, and I'm sorry for- well just being an asshole in general, and I-"

"Bucky."

"-know you probably don't want to hear this, because I'm about 3 years late, but I want you to know that I-"

"Bucky."

"miss you. So much. I have ever since I did that to you, and I don't know why I did it, but it took me this long to figure out that-"

"Bucky!"

"I'm in love with you."

He finally looked up at me, finishing his rant and even more out of breath than he was before. I froze, looking at him shocked.

"What?"

"I've loved you since elementary."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My lifelong best friend, who I've been in love with since middle school, who abandoned me freshman year, has been in love with me too. For even longer. My mind was racing with questions.

"Wait- since elementary?"

"Yes."

"And you still are?"

"Yes."

"Even after not talking to me for over 2 years?"

He winced before answering. "Yes."

"Why did you end our friendship like that? How could you do that to me?"

He shook his head, averting his eyes back to the ground as he winced again.

"I'm so sorry, I- I just couldn't- I-I thought that coming into high school you would start making all these friends, and I guess freshman me thought it would be best if I just found some friends first. You know, to soften the blow I guess."

I furrowed my brows, looking at him incredulously.

"So you ended our lifelong friendship because you were scared I'd make friends?"

"Well fuck, when you put it like that-"

"How the fuck am I supposed to put it, Bucky? That's what happened, right?

"Yeah. That's what happened."

We met each other's eyes again. He looked defeated as he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Can you please tell me what you thought of the song" he whispered, blinking slowly at me.

I sighed sharply as my tongue pressed against the side of my mouth.

"Did you mean it? What you said?"

"Every word."

I shivered and shrugged, shaking my head.

"What do you want me to say, James?"

He winced for the third time at the sound of me using his name.

"I want you to say you'll think about forgiving me, I want you to say you feel the same, I want you to be in my life again. I want you."

I shut my eyes for a second and sighed. He's in love with me, and he wants me. He's in love with me. He has been since elementary. He wants me in his life. He loves me. A couple seconds passed before I responded.

"Of course I feel the same way, I have for, like, 5 years. And I'll think about forgiving you. Only because the song was sorta good-"

"Can I kiss you?"

The rest of my sentence died as I looked up at him confused. Did I hear him right?

"What did you say?"

"Can I kiss you?" he repeated, licking his lips as his gaze darted from my eyes to my lips.

"Yes."

He was closing the space between us as soon as the word left my lips. He pulled his hands from his jacket, using them to hold my face as he kissed me.

I leaned into the kiss, trying to ignore the fireworks going off in my stomach.

He moved his hands to go around my waist, wrapping his arms around me to hold me against him. I brought my arms up to wrap around the back of his head as the kiss deepened.

I pulled away and looked at him, running my fingers through his hair as his arms stayed locked around my waist. We smiled at each other as he darted between looking at my eyes and lips. I brushed his hair behind his ears before he spoke.

"What d'ya say we go to your house and sit on the roof, like we used to?"

"What about the drinks?"

"I think the amount of alcohol you chugged in the kitchen should be enough for tonight"

I laughed and kissed him again. With or without the alcohol, I was drunk on Bucky and the happiness in this moment we shared. It felt as if the years without him had turned me into a zombie, and this kiss brought me back to life. An antidote that I didn't know I needed.He eventually put me down as we began to walk back to our street, hand in hand.

I had gotten my best friend back.

[annabethy]

42 ;)

#42 I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having,, percabeth

Annabeth’s sure her face looks incredibly pained right now as she stares her date in the eyes. She’s been on quite a few dates before. She thought she'd seen rock bottom by now, but no. This was rock bottom. Every two seconds her date was finding ways to insult her, and she was about one more comment from snapping.

“So, why did you decide to become an architect?” Luke asks. He leans forwards onto his elbows, and for once he looks genuinely interested by her answer. She truly doesn’t want to answer, but she knows that she’s stuck here for at least another hour if she doesn’t want to stoop to his level, so she doesn’t see any option other than to answer.

“I’ve just always been so interested by it,” Annabeth says, leaning forwards to match his stance. She smiles hesitantly when his eyes trail down the front v of her dress she had mistakenly decided to wear. She pauses for a few seconds, thinking maybe he’d have the decency to look away, but his eyes stay glued to her chest, prompting her to sit back up and pretend to scratch her neck just to block his view. “Ever since I was a little girl, I just wanted to be an architect, I guess.”

Luke clears his throat. “I can’t imagine why you’d ever want to do that though.”

“Uh—what?”

“Architecture is so… boring. Not only is it boring, but it’s for people that are good with math and have a big future ahead of them, and I just don’t get those vibes from you.”

Annabeth scoffs in his face.

“We’re both looking for something serious—“

“Never said that.”

“—so I’m going to be straight to the point. I want my wife to be someone there for me. I’ve a busy man, and I’m going to need your help so I can’t have you working your own job.”

Annabeth honestly didn’t think people like this actually existed. She’s met some despicable guys before; she was practically a magnet for them. But Luke had seemed like such a generous person, and she somehow thought that today would be enjoyable. She has never been more wrong.

“So what do you think?”

“I think…no?”

Luke furrows his eyebrows. “No?”

“Yeah, no.” She blinks at him, and she can tell that he expects a further explanation. She decides not to give him one.

“No one’s ever said no to me before.”

“Shocker.”

“What did I do wrong? It’s worked on a million girls before you.”

“Wow. A million. You sure know how to pick em.”

He stutters. “I just meant that girls love the idea of not having to work. You all want an easy life, and I’m offering you that.”

“I’m quite sure that no one wants that.”

“It’s a kind agreement.”

“It’s insulting is what it is,” Annabeth says. There’s a touch of humor in her voice because this could not actually be happening.

“I’ll make you an offer because I know that we both want this to work.”

Annabeth snorts.

“You can have a part time job.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and straightens in her chair, ready to start scolding him loudly, not caring who hears, but before she gets the chance to, someone’s hand is settling onto her shoulder and squeezing. She jumps slightly, tilting her head back to see the person now standing directly behind her, and the face she recognizes but can’t quite pinpoint.

“Hey,” the guy says to Annabeth, looking as though he’s known her his whole life. “Sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to know what time you’d be home tonight.”

Annabeth blinks, her brain taking a minute to catch up with his words. “What time I’ll be home?”

Luke raises an eyebrow in what he thinks is a threatening manner. “I was in the middle of something here.”

“I just wanted to talk to my wife really quick,” the guy says, and Annabeth is sent reeling.

“Wife?” Luke asks weakly.

“Wife,” he repeats surely, smiling widely. He turns to Annabeth. “Also, dear, will you be bringing him home with you? Has he agreed?”

She’s about to open her mouth and state her confusion, but then the guy is winking at her when Luke glances away, and she suddenly gets his drift. “He’s getting there.”

Luke tilts his head like a lost puppy. ��Getting where? I’m not getting anywhere with both of you.”

“Huh?” Annabeth pouts. “You said that you were serious about this though.”

“About what?” Luke looks thoroughly scared to hear the answer. Annabeth isn’t entirely sure of the answer herself so she looks to the guy with his hand still on her shoulder for guidance.

The guy clears his throat. “Threesome.”

To his credit, Annabeth thinks he looks quite disgusted with his own words.

“What the fuck?” Luke asks. He’s beginning to lean back in his chair, a precarious position.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you!” Annabeth says brightly. She pats the guy’s hand. “I wasn’t looking for a partner — I was looking for someone willing to help my husband and I. I love him, but after five years, it gets pretty boring if you know what I mean.”

The guy gasps. “We are not boring!”

“Then why are we looking for a threesome?” Annabeth challenges.

“Adventure?”

“No.” She turns to Luke. “You in or out?”

“Literally,” Percy adds.

Luke’s eyes go wide as he looks between her and the guy. He appears to be contemplating his existence, and Annabeth is very proud of the image her and this stranger have created. “Are you serious?”

Annabeth nods expectantly.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work,” he says. He wastes no time before he’s gathering his stuff and practically running out, not even glancing over his shoulder to wave goodbye. Annabeth watches him go, surprised that it had actually worked. The two of them hadn’t exactly given an Oscar worthy performance.

The guy’s eyes trail after Luke until he’s out the door, and then he’s sliding down into the empty seat across from her a few moments later. Annabeth smirks as they stare at each other until he breaks the silence.

“So,” he starts, “you looked like you were getting stuck there. Thought you could use some help.”

She laughs. “And that’s what you thought of?”

“I didn’t really think about it before I set the plan in motion.”

“You should probably start thinking things through before you actually end up in a threesome…” She trails off in a silent question of his name.

“My own wife doesn’t even know my name,” he says, laughing and holding a hand out over the table. “I’m Percy.”

“Annabeth,” she returns. For the first time, she takes a moment to really look at him. Her breath catches slightly on his eyes that were a sparkling green. The crooked smile he was giving her made his face seem brighter in the dim lighting of the restaurant, and the quick flick of his eyes made her flush with heat.

“So, Annabeth, was I correct in assuming he was the devil reincarnate?”

“Painfully so.”

Percy chuckles, lacing his hands together in front of him and resting his chin on them. When he speaks, it’s gentle, for just the two of them. “Oh god. What did he say?”

“He wanted me to stay home and take care of his babies, or some shit.”

“Men,” he says, disgusted.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Yeah, but I like to think I’m different.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well, for starters, it seems that I’m the one on a date with you.”

“Is that what this is?”

“You tell me.” His eyes are dark but calm. She can tell that he won’t get upset if she rejects him. The way he composed himself was already a big contrast from the way Luke did. He kept his eyes on her face and his hands away from her. He gave her space — she was the one in control, and it was for her to decide what she wants to do.

“I couldn’t say,” she settles for, choosing to push him further. To see how he reacts. “You’re sitting in the middle of a fancy restaurant with me, but why are you here in the first place? Where’s your date?”

“Would you believe me if I said that I work here?”

She looks him up and down. He’s not dressed badly, but it’s by no means work attire. “Not a chance.”

“Well, I do. Kinda.” Percy chews on his lower lip. “I don’t work here, but I’m here all the time. It’s sort of my mom’s restaurant?”

“Wow,” Annabeth says, impressed. “A man who can cook.”

“I’m better with pastries, but I get by.” Percy chuckles. “But no, there’s no other girls in the picture.”

She notices that the smile hasn’t left Percy’s face for one second, and she has to admit she’s never been this intrigued by someone she’s just met before. Something in the back of her head tells her to use her common sense, but she’s been doing that all her life and it still ended with her on a date with Luke. She figures it couldn’t hurt to live a little for once.

“I don’t know how to cook,” she warns, “or pick my men, apparently.”

“It’s your lucky day! I can teach you how to cook, and this is, of course, for you to decide, but I think I’d be an awesome choice of yours.”

Her stomach flutters. “You might just have to prove it, then.”

“I can do just that,” he promises.

“So when’s this first date, then?”

“Did we not settle that this was an impromptu date?”

“You seem desperate.”

“You’re cute,” is all he says.

“I don’t think we want to start something where Luke was first,” she explains, fighting back the blush she can feel creeping up her neck. She grins at his appalled expression.

“You’re so right.”

“How about you teach me to cook for our first date?”

Percy brightens. “Now that I can do.”

And so she grabs her stuff, and he grabs his. He ends up dismissing her check, and when she tries to protest and put some cash down, he takes her hand in his and laces their fingers together instead. He had a gleam in his eyes, and Annabeth would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited.

They spend hours together in the kitchen, cooking everything Percy could think of. She almost burns his apartment down a few times, but he takes it in stride. The cookies come out warm and gooey, and it might be the best thing she’s ever made. By the time it reaches midnight, Annabeth is covered head to toe in flour and his lips are against hers. She doesn’t mind one bit.

[armysantiny]

Callous - CYJ

Pairing: Yeonjun x female reader || TXT

Genre: angst

Includes: college au, exes to strangers, break up, fashion major Yeonjun, performing arts major reader, regret, naps, Xiaojun (WayV) mention, Wooyoung (Ateez) mention, Changbin (Stray Kids) mention, Wooyoung x Changbin reference, swearing, venting, alcohol mention, trip to London

Word count: 2.56k

Warning: anxiety attack, anxiety, breakup, venting, swearing, alcohol mention lmk if I need to add any more!

Rating: 12

Networks: @kwritersworld​, @kdiarynet​, @kpopscape​, @ultkpopnetwork​, @kpopficsnetwork​, @kpopcontentcreatorsclub​, @k-dinernet​, @lovesick-net​, @whipped-kpop-creators​, @prism-nw​, @hybenet​, @k-library​, @moacabinet​

Tagging: @intokook​, @cherry-hyejin​, @sinchoi​ || Fic Taglist

Prompts: “you know damn well we meant something” || “Don’t leave me here.”

An: Prompts are from the @ficscafe​ dialogue prompt event!

They say time heals all wounds, but for Yeonjun, it seemed as though he was the bitter exception. Months after he had split off from his relationship with y/n, the wound in his heart was as fresh as ever. And who could he blame? He started the argument, he brought up her past trauma, he blamed her for things she had no control over. No wonder she wanted out so badly. But if time didn’t heal the wound in his heart, it definitely gave him perspective. A perspective into his own reckless behaviour. However, the end of term-break was nearing, and he’d be forced to face y/n - and the aftermath - again. 

Sighing as he watched the time tick forward inch by inch, Yeonjun tried focusing on eating breakfast, ignoring the reminder in his head that he’d be in the same class as his ex-girlfriend again. Perhaps Professor Chae would have mercy and not put their seating places beside each other. His phone going off as he finished the last of his cereal, Yeonjun picked it up, rolling his eyes as his best friend’s message.

Wooyoung: Hey, do you think I’ll get any confessions this term?

Yeonjun: Dude, you get a new confession like, every other week, why are you even asking?

Wooyoung: Oh yeah~ you’re right!

Yeonjun: Don't you have a boyfriend though? Where’s Changbin? Say hi to him for me

Wooyoung: He doesn’t have class until 10:30 :( 

Wooyoung: Hey! You have his number too! Say hi yourself!

Yeonjun: Ehh, can’t be asked. See you later.

Wooyoung: Uh huh love you too - bye!

Bag slung over his shoulder, outfit complete, a water bottle in his bag and he was ready; now all he had to do was to brave actually going out of his apartment and to his first class of the day. But his thoughts were being less than kind to him, and Yeonjun could feel his heart start to palpitate. Patting his chest repeatedly as he tried to steady his own breathing, the 21-year-old took to heading back inside to his living room, where he sat down and tried dealing with the oncoming wave of anxiety and panic.

Yeonjun hadn’t heard the knock at his door, nor had he heard when the passcode had been entered, a concerned Wooyoung walking through the door. “Yeonjun…? Junie? Choi Yeonjun where are-,” Stopping in his tracks when he walked in on his best friend crouched behind one end of the sofa, out of sight. “Yeonjun-ah, it’s me…”

“Oh - Wooyoung, I- how, how did you get in?” The fellow 21-year-old asked, finally aware enough to realise that Wooyoung was in his apartment, kneeling down beside him. Looking over, the vulnerability was raw, and entirely out on display. And Wooyoung’s gentle smile provided a sense of warmth and familiarity, no matter how small that feeling was.

“You still haven’t changed it since you told me. Anyway- that’s not too important; let’s get you feeling better hmm? I’m not the emotional support friend for nothing you know~.” Wooyoung hummed, taking Yeonjun’s hand into his own. Starting with a short breathing exercise, the dance major got Yeonjun to relax, asking him to describe the items in his room; starting with five things he could see, going down consecutively until they had gone through each of his senses. And it had started to work; Yeonjun’s heart didn’t feel like it was beating out of his chest, everything had become clearer - the crushing in his chest going away. Taking a few more stable breaths, Yeonjun’s body relaxed as he slowly stood up, Wooyoung standing up soon afterwards.

“That...that was rough. Thanks Woo.”

“No problem Jun, it’s what I’m here for.”

Arriving in class but five minutes late, Yeonjun tried concentrating on the presentation in front of him, making notes every so often as his professor explained the lesson. Everything felt normal, perhaps even too normal. But normal was better than nothing, and it seemed like the fashion major wouldn’t be facing y/n at school for the time being. Busy with his notes as he adjusted his glasses, the universe must have counted him lucky as he didn’t see who entered the lecture hall to talk to the professor. When he finally looked up from his notebook, his eyes widened before he immediately went back to staring at his notes, in hopes that y/n didn’t notice him on her way out. 

But she did notice him. She did notice him sitting in his seat as she left. When did he change professors? Remaining by the door as she closed it behind her, the performing arts major blinked back memories before she made her way back to class; class was more important than an old relationship gone sour. Walking back into the hallspace that was the location of her class, tried refocusing as she joined her group of friends as they watched some of the improv performances after speaking to her own professor.

“Well? What did Mr Kim say? Are we going to be working with the fashion majors for the end of year performance?” Dejun asked, leaning over to whisper while they watched their classmates. 

“Oh? Yeah, yeah, Mr Kim said Mr Song will be ‘lending’ his students to us,” Y/n replied, air quotes as she spoke, “ I don’t know about you Xiaojun, but doesn’t ‘lending’ sound kinda off?” She asked, an amused grin on her face as she went over the wording one more time. Taking a moment to realise what about it was so amusing, he snickered when the correlation finally clicked. The pair exhaled rapidly to try and drown the laughter, they covered their mouths with their hands once their professor glared in their direction.

“Well; looks like we got caught~ but yeah - are they products to him or something?”

“We may never know Xiaojun, we may never know~.”

As class finished up, y/n grabbed her bag and headed out, waving to Dejun and her friends as she made her way into the hallway. Earbuds plugged in, she kept her hands in her pocket as she aimlessly wandered through campus, humming along to the song playing as she found herself walking towards the courtyard. Without any other classes until that afternoon, there was plenty of time to sneak in a nap while she listened to her true crime podcast. Finding a bench off in the corner, the second-year student let her mind rest as she placed her coat along the bench and laid her head on her bag.

As luck would have it, Yeonjun’s timetable had more or less the same timings as y/n’s, and he had also been looking for a quiet place to rest. Class had gone well after seeing y/n, and the book he had been reading was just getting to the good part. Finding a bench that wasn’t too far away from y/n - he didn’t intentionally sit close by, but life is never predictable - he took a seat, opening the book and continuing with the tale in his hands. His reactions muted as to not draw much outward attention to himself, the bout of uncontrollable snickers ended up waking and getting the attention of the only other student in the courtyard. Looking up from his book when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, the nervous palpitations of his heart started again when he recognised who he was sharing the courtyard space with.

“Hey-! Can, can I talk to you? Please…” Y/n was seconds from heading out of the courtyard when she heard Yeonjun’s voice, turning around for a brief moment before sighing. After the way he treated their break up, she was certain that there would be no way she’d want to see him again by choice. Rolling her eyes, she turned back towards the direction of the hallway, only to be stopped by a hand holding onto her wrist; holding onto her as though she was an uncertain dream. One that would fade away if not given the chance to confront it.

“Choi Yeonjun, I thought I made it clear that I don’t want you to speak to me again. Is it that hard to stick to?” 

“I know y/n - and I’m sorry - but I’ve been beating myself up over this and I need to apologise. Apologise to you properly.” He was desperate, desperate to set things right and try to regain some level of contact with y/n. Yeonjun would be a dirty liar if he tried telling himself that even after all he had put his ex girlfriend through, he didn’t want to try becoming closer, at least platonically. But the feeling wasn’t mutual. Y/n wanted nothing to do with her ex; he’d hurt her too much, and despite the memories they shared, she could see nothing but the man who used the insecurities she trusted him with against her. He was a chapter in her past she wanted to separate herself from, to never look at again.Y/n said nothing as she pried his hand off of her wrist, a hard glare in her eyes as she left Yeonjun alone in the courtyard. Staring at his hands as though they were red with blood, his thoughts spiralled, exactly one being voiced out through a whisper, only for Yeonjun’s ears but meant for y/n.

“Don’t leave me here, don’t leave me clasping at straws y/n…”

“Wait, wait, wait - Yeonjun was in the courtyard?” Xiaojun’s voice called out from y/n’s phone late that afternoon, well after all classes were long over. They had been talking for the last ten minutes, and the topic of what had happened had just been brought up. From his side of the call, Xiaojun saved his assignment - of which he was already ahead in - and leaned back in his chair. He had been there for y/n when the breakup happened, spent days comforting his long-term close friend, and had some choice opinions of his own when it came to the fellow 99-liner. 

“Yeah! I think he was reading a book or something, but I didn’t see it. Anyway - my point; this bastard actually wanted to talk to me. He grabbed my fucking wrist and everything; something about wanting to ‘apologise’.” Y/n answered, her phone on speaker as she set about making herself a hot chocolate. She’d get to her research assignment after telling her best friend what had happened. First order of business? Getting herself a drink.

“Wow…” Dejun started, the disbelief loud, “after the crap he put you through, it took him this long to want to apologise?” He asked, putting his own phone on speaker as he stood out of his chair to get a water bottle. The conversation stayed like that for the next half an hour; both talking about one topic after another, all seeming to revolve around y/n’s painful break up. It had been less than a week after y/n’s birthday when Yeonjun had decided that he wanted to end their two-year relationship, a fake cold exterior as he left her alone in the silence of her own apartment that night. Y/n never went to sleep afterwards, burying herself in work as she let the tears fall down her face freely, only praying that the end of the year could come any faster. Each day had dragged on at a snail’s pace though, each hour feeling three times as long as she tried avoiding the cause of her pain. It was those six weeks before her second year in university that she found her mercy, going on a three-week trip to London with Xiaojun and a couple others in their friendship circle. Tears were shed, alcohol was consumed and heart-to-hearts were had. By the time y/n had returned to Seoul, she was on track to healing the wound in her heart.

 At the end of their mini venting session, the question that was really hanging in the air was whether y/n should even bother hearing Yeonjun out. But it seemed as though fate was eavesdropping on the pair’s conversation, because a knock at the door after y/n had hung up on her phone call immediately grabbed her attention. There was no way Xiaojun could have been at the door, otherwise the university student would have heard it across the call. Walking up to the door with a minute sense of apprehension, y/n looked through the peephole and audibly groaned. Massaging her temples out of frustration, she opened the door, arms folded as she stared him dead in the eye.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have your own mess of an apartment to get to?” She questioned, watching her ex walk in with a raised brow.

“I told you, I needed to talk to you. Please y/n, just one last time, hear me out. I beg of you.” 

And despite her resentment, that’s what she did.

There was no level of regret or guilt that could describe just how apologetic Yeonjun was feeling as he spoke, each syllable a thorn on his tongue. He had avoided the glare in y/n’s expression as he tried explaining his point of view, but it was clear that it really was Yeonjun who had brought it upon himself. His actions, his callous behaviour led to where they were now; sat in y/n’s apartment while he desperately tried to repair a burned down bridge with nothing more than pretty words.

 Having forced herself to sit through Yeonjun’s failed attempts at winning some semblance of friendship, y/n stood up, not in any mood to hear his voice any more. “You know what the real issue is with you?”

“What, what  is it..?”

“You’re pathetically entitled.” Y/n started, looking everywhere but the man sitting on her sofa in front of her. “Two years, Yeonjun. Two fucking years and you decide to break up with me in front of my family while we were on video - humiliate me - and give me no reason. You erased me from your life even though you knew damn well we meant something.  And suddenly now you decide that ‘Oh, I need y/n back’?” 

“Y/n-ah, I’m - I’m sorry, I was a coward, I- I wanted an easy way out…” A ‘tch’ coming from y/n at his poor attempt at an excuse, she said nothing as she went to the apartment door and opened it.

“Get out. If I see you come to my door again Choi I will call the police.” His head hung low, Yeonjun complied; putting his shoes back on and walking out in shame. Flinching when he heard the slam of the door behind him, the broken man made the journey home by foot, too ashamed to feel the need to take the bus. 

From inside her apartment, y/n reached for her phone. She needed to spend the night somewhere else.

Y/n: Mind if I stay the night?

Dejun: No problem, you’ve already got some of your own stuff here.

Y/n: Thanks Jun

As she left her apartment, there was one question on her mind. One that put into question exactly how she had dealt with the situation;

She wasn’t being too callous with Yeonjun, was she?

[authorialarcanist]

It Seems I'll Never Understand (Kagerou Project)

Genre: Angst

Rating: Mature

Pairing(s): Tateyama Ayano x Kisaragi Shintaro

Summary: "...Hey, Shintaro. Why'd you do it? I mean... You could have stayed out of it. It wasn't your fight."

In a world where Shintaro Kisaragi was the one who killed himself on that fateful august day two years prior, Ayano isn't sure what she can do with her life. Living in fear of the Snake of Clearing Eyes, all she can do is think back on the past, and wonder - why it was that her best friend took her place when she's sure he must have hated her, and when was it that it all went wrong.

Shinaya roleswap with a focus on making it work with as few changes to canon as possible.

---

It’s late - late enough that it’s gotten truly dark out. I’m walking along the road to my home, a boy next to me. The bridge we’re crossing seems to stretch out endlessly into the distance, illuminated only by the moon and the street-lamps we’re passing by.

I fiddle with my scarf absentmindedly as I steal a glance at his face. I’m so glad… I was finally able to become friends with him. Or, well… maybe ‘friends’ isn’t the right word just yet. To him, I’m sure I’m still just that stupid girl who made him tutor her for hours after class.

Still… I tell myself that this is the most important first step. Mm-hm. Now that I’ve introduced myself, I’m sure that we’ll be friends - real friends - in no time at all.

“You really saved my life! I never would’ve been able to finish that problem set on my own.” I grin weakly as my babbling inevitably turns to self-deprecation. Ah, well… after my terrible performance back there, trying to act cool for my new friend was a lost cause already. Well, if this was a manga, at least this might be the part where the aloof genius breaks character to reassure me that I can do it?

“Even with my help, it took you way too long…” He sighs. “Geez. I only came here to get my wallet, too. I must be really unlucky.”

—Yeah, right. I’ve only known this guy for a few hours now, but it’s pretty obvious that tender support isn’t his strong suit.

“I really am sorry…” I shrink a little under his criticism. “But! I promise, I won’t forget about today!”

“What are you saying? Didn’t you just say you forget things no matter how much you study?” Ow… I guess I did say that, but… he really has no faith in me at all, huh?

But he just doesn’t get it! Not quite panicking, I redouble my efforts to explain myself. “Today’s special! I’m going to try extra hard not to forget, so it’ll be okay!”

He hums in contemplation and stares away into the distance. And then—

—“Liar.”

I recoil from the sudden accusation. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve broken your promise already, haven’t you? You can’t even remember my name.”

He picks up his pace, and though I try to follow, I can’t seem to move forward.

“Huh? Of course I can!”

“Really? Then why haven’t you said it?”

“Why are you so focused on that all of a sudden?”

“Say it, Ayano.”

“Stop it!”

“Say my name.”

“I— You’re—“ Tears spill from my eyes. I’m trying to say it. Why — why is this happening? Why couldn’t we just keep walking together, chatting about nothing important, like friends do?

“…Yeah. I thought so.” He stops walking, and for some reason, I freeze as well. I have no choice but to watch his back as he speaks. “I guess it’s not your fault, though. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “But… Try to remember, okay?”

He turns to face me again.

His eyes are red.

“If you can’t remember soon, then—“

——

Knock. Knock. Knock. Three hesitant raps on my door.

The sound wakes me from my dream. Already, it’s growing too hazy to remember. All I can say for certain is that hewas there.

He’s always there in my dreams. Maybe it’s some cruel balance for the fact that he’ll never be there again in real life.

“Ayano?”

At the sound of the voice calling for me, I turn over in my bed and bury my face in my pillow, trying not to make any sound to indicate that I’m awake.

“Ayano, please, I know you’re in there. I just want to talk.”

I don’t respond. My father is dead. That’s the best way to think of it. The safest way to think of it. Even when the snake lets him out, it’s only in the hopes of getting me to snap.

“Ayano, I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been the best father to you, since your mother died. But please, I just want to know what happened. What happened to Shuuya and Tsubomi and Kousuke. Why you won’t talk to me. Ayano, please.”

My hands clench against the pillow. I force myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

“Ayano…”

In.

Out.

“…Just… think about it, okay? I’m here, if you’re ever ready to talk. Even if you need another two years, I’ll still be here.”

A lie. Dad won’t be here. Just the snake.

“…I love you.”

I stay silent, waiting until the sound of footsteps fades from my hearing. No matter how many times I go through this, it never gets any easier. But… I can’t talk to him.

Even if the snake wasn’t privy to his every thought, I can’t bring myself to speak with the man who sold my world.

“…Is… he gone?” A tinny voice whispers from my computer’s speaker.

I listen for a moment. When nothing happens, I nod. “Yeah.”

My computer monitor lights up as it exits sleep mode, and a girl in blue peeks out from her hiding place behind a browser window. “…I still don’t understand why you don’t leave here, Ayano-chan…”

I shake my head. “I… I just can’t. I’m sorry, Ene.” Ene… that’s what this girl calls herself. About a year ago, she popped out of an email and decided to stick around. She tried to put on this sassy, hyper front at first, but it fell apart pretty quickly.

I’m pretty sure I know who she really is, after all. And she knows I know. I just haven’t been cruel enough to push the topic.

It’s not like she has much of anywhere else to go, after all.

“…Okay. I get it.” She looks down at the taskbar and pokes her index fingers together. “Just… hang in there, okay, Ayano-chan? Do your best.”

“Like my best has ever mattered,” I mumble, and sit down at my computer chair. To be honest, my activities since dropping out of school two years ago have been nothing, nothing, and a heaping dessert of nothing. It’s not like I have any sort of online life to speak of, even. It’s just that… ultimately, there’s nothing else to do when I’m living under the same roof as my father. I can’t risk going outside at the wrong time and having to face him. At least he respects the boundaries of my room; and the snake finds it convenient to leave me a sanctuary under his supervision for as long as he doesn’t have any need of me.

“…So, um… Ayano-chan?” Ene glances up at me, a little shyly. “Can I ask about whether…”

Ah. That. I shake my head. “…I’m sorry. I’ve tried talking to him while my father was away, but Konoha really doesn’t seem to remember anything about us.” Konoha… the white-haired boy the Clearing Eyes took in really is just another reminder of my failures. Still, I know that’s not hisfault, and I can’t really blame Ene for being too scared to check up on him herself. Talking to him hurts badly enough for me, and I still hadn’t been quite as close to Haruka as she was. Honestly though, whenever I’d felt safe enough to slip out and check on him, Konoha had seemed pretty nonresponsive. Forget remembering me and Ene; he didn’t seem to remember anything, not even basic things like rain.

“I see…” Ene droops. This happens every time she brings up Konoha; as much as she’s tried to be around for me, I don’t have the first idea how to comfort her when this topic comes up.

Well, honestly, I don’t think I’m in a place to be comforting much of anyone. Back when I tried all those years ago, it only ended in pain.

In the end, I go with the tried and true method of pretending I didn’t see anything. When there’s nothing you can do, acknowledging the problem only ends in more tears, after all. I pass the day mindlessly browsing the web and making more paper cranes for the army that chokes every available surface in my room. Occasionally, I can’t help but fantasize about what things might be like if I had Paper-Animating Eyes. Sending an army of little origami birds to get revenge on the Clearing Eyes… it’d definitely be a more efficient way of getting a wish granted.

Ah well.

At least my father has work during the day and the snake has better things to do than waste time in this lonely house during the nighttime, so I’m able to check on Konoha and grab something from the kitchen for lunch on most days. That’s particularly important, because dinner can be much more spotty, depending on whether my father is in a “bury his problems in work” mood or a “try desperately to be present to make up for selling his soul to an evil snake” one. Well, okay, I really don’t know how much he’s able to retain about what the Clearing Eyes does when in control of his body, but if he really is oblivious about everything that might actually be worse.

Unfortunately he seems to be in a “try to atone” cycle right now, so I’m running off of a single meal when the knocks return once again.

“Ayano.”

Ene hides behind the browser window again, and I click off of the tab showing a video of a mongoose taking down a snake.

…What? Look, I have to deal with the spite somehow.

“I know you’re in there.”

I stay silent.

“I’ve got another mission for you, Ayano. You know the deal by now.”

I freeze. This isn’t dad.

“I trust I don’t need to spell it out for you?”

It’s the other one.

“I’m waiting.Or is this some pathetic attempt at rebellion? If so, I have to applaud. It’s the most pointless one yet.”

I finally find my voice. “I-I understand.”

“Heh. Good.” The snake chuckles. “Two children are coming to stay in this house soon. Your father’s sister-in-law, and some hanger-on. When they’re here, you’re going to be the model of a big sister, understand? Get them to trust you, and then make sure they’re in a certain place on August fifteenth.”

I shrink in on myself. Children? Please, no…

“I said, understand?You know what’ll happen to your family if you refuse…”

“N-no!” I shoot to my feet in panic. “No… I understand…”

“Good.” What should be my father’s voice drips with malice. “See? Wasn’t that easy? Goodbye, Ayano.” Saying the last two words in an odd sing-song voice, the snake leaves. I collapse back into my chair, hugging myself.

“A-ayano-chan…” Ene peeks back out from her hiding spot.

I turn to her with wide eyes.

“Ayano-chan, you don’t have to do this. Please, we can fight back. I’ll help you.”

…If only. But no, I know it’s hopeless.

I can’t fight the snake. All I can do is delay the inevitable.

I shake my head, and start disconnecting the speakers from my computer. If Ene tried to do something brave, and the Clearing Eyes found out…

“…Ayano, please…”

I pull the plug on my monitor. Ene may still have access to the inside of my computer, but the most she’ll be able to do in the house is open and close the CD drive.

“…sorry…” I whisper quietly to myself, even though I know she can’t hear me.

God, how did things turn out this way?

——

I have many precious memories, moments I’ve spent these past two years trying desperately not to forget. Reading storybooks at bedtime with my mom. Meeting my little siblings for the first time. The way my dad’s face used to look when he’d play with us, long before everything happened.

If you were to look through those treasured days, flipping from one to another as though they were files secreted away in a lockbox, one might still stand out from the rest. Perhaps it’s laminated, or hidden behind a false back. Not because it’s more precious than the others - I wouldn’t trade my family for anything - but because it’s unique nonetheless. A moment elevated in its rarity, and in the pain it brings me - not the dull ache of my mom’s face, nor the stabbing betrayal of my father’s failures and mine, but a gaping void of ‘what if’s.

The first time I ever got to see Shintaro smile.

It was during our second year of middle school, a couple months after the day I finally introduced myself. The last test I’d gotten back had been my lowest score yet, and with exams rushing to meet me, I was honestly in a panic.

But then, Shintaro’d spoken up. For the very first time, he gave me a totally unprompted offer to help me study.

“Thank you so much,” I’d sobbed. “I don’t know what I was gonna do…”

“Ugh, don’t be annoying about it!” He’d refused to meet my eyes as he grumbled. “I just know that if you failed your exams I’d somehow get dragged into helping you catch back up. It’s just easier to get this over with this early, alright?”

Whatever his stated reasons, I still felt like I’d been saved when he stuck around to help me pound the latest lessons into my skull. And I don’t know if we finished faster than usual, if something good had happened to him at home, or if his guard was just down that day for some other reason, but one way or another, he decided to stick around and chat for a bit afterwards.

I can still picture it clearly. That sunny classroom, me perched on my desk to bask in the light from the window, him leaning his chair back as we killed time… and the glint of light that drew my eye to the spine of a book just peeking out of his bag.

“Hm? Hey, Shintaro?”

“What?” He glanced lazily back at me.

I tilted my head to read what I could from the spine. It rung a bell; I’d overheard some of the other girls in our class talking about it from time to time. “Isn’t that ‘Let’s Fall In Love’?”

“HUH?” I winced at the sudden crash as Shintaro lost his balance and fell in a heap.

“Ah! Are you okay? I’m sorry!” I rushed to help him up, but he just scrambled back until he was pressed against the wall.

“W-w-w-what are you talking about? I-I don’t, I mean, that’s not—“ Shintaro grabbed suddenly for his bag, but his hand missed its mark and sent the contents spilling out as it toppled over instead. The book landed face up, its cover proudly displaying a drawing of a boy and a girl standing together in a very shoujo-esque artstyle. Emblazoned above the picture was ‘Let’s Fall in Love ~ by Yumeno Sakiko.’

“Umm…”

“I mean! It’s Momo’s! Yeah! My little sister wouldn’t stop pestering me, so I picked up her copy for her, uh-huh! I definitely don’t read shoujo manga!” His stuttering picked up pace as he scrambled for excuses, and I couldn’t help it - some part of me kinda wanted to watch him squirm for a little longer.

So, I grinned slyly and searched my memory of my classmates’ conversations. “Uh-huh? You know, with how Mamiko and Oze were talking in the latest chapter, don’t you think there might be a chance they’ll—“

“THAT’S HERESY!” Shintaro slammed his hands down on the ground, and I winced at the sudden spike in volume. “Mamiko and Suzuki are meantto be together!” He clenched his fist and held it to his chest. “I can’t imagine how anyone would think otherwise after that moment in volume 7! And anyways, Oze and Waka may be having a fight right now, but everyone… knows…” He trailed off as my control failed me and I started to giggle. “…Fine. You caught me. Happy now?”

At the sight of him forcing down a pout and struggling to regain a serious expression, I laughed even harder.

“…So I like shoujo manga. Is it really that funny to you?”

“No, no! I’m sorry!” I did my best to get myself under control. “It’s not that, honestly. You just looked so earnest, and then you kept trying to hide it… If reading that sort of thing makes you happy, then I think that’s a goodthing! It’s actually kinda c—“ I suddenly realized what I was about to say, and blushed heavily. “—I mean, it’s kinda cool! Yeah! You shouldn’t worry what other people will think about your interests, you know?” Oh yeah, that was an absolutely stellarsave, Ayano. Absolutely nobody was gonna suspect that you almost called your classmate ‘cute’ without thinking. Aside from, I dunno, people with eyes.

Thankfully, all of that intelligence must have come out of Shintaro’s perceptiveness instead, because he let it pass without comment. “So…” Shintaro seemed to be looking anywhere in the room other than my face, which might have helped the whole ‘not noticing my face doing a bonfire impression’ thing. “Do… you also read it, then?”

“Huh?”

“Y, you know! ‘Let’s Fall in Love’!”

“A, ah! Right!” I snapped out of my thoughts. Right, let’s just pretend that slip never happened for now, and I can unpack whatever the heck it meant on my own time, when I won’t make my one school friend think I’m even more of a weirdo than he already does. “Ehehe… Not really, actually.” I scratched the back of my head and grinned sheepishly. “I was just parroting something I overheard. I’m more into the shounen stuff, you know? Hot-blooded super sentai fighting to save the world, and all that.”

“Really? But they’re so formulaic. You can see everything coming from a mile away. And how do those guys get through posing dressed like that and not die of embarrassment?”

Well, I couldn’t just sit there and take that. “What? Hold on a moment, like your mushy stuff is any better! Aren’t they all just ‘boy meets girl, cue nothing happening for the rest of their school lives’?”

“Wh— they are not!There’s nuanceand relationship growth and everything!” Woah. Shintaro was looking about the most fired up I’d ever seen him! At that thought, an idea clicked in my head.

“Hmm… Alright, then!” I grinned at him and gave a sharply enunciated chuckle, heh-heh-heh. “Why don’t you tell me more about this series, and if you manage to change my mind I’ll give reading it a try? And then, in return, you’ll watch an episode of Engine Sentai Go-Onger with me, and we’ll see how you feel about heroes after that!”

Shintaro rose to the challenge. “Fine! Come on then, I’ll teach you about why Yumeno-sensei is a master! I mean, her portrayal of Mamiko’s inner struggles alone touches the heart, even for a boy like me! There’s this moment in chapter 12 when she…” He lit up as he talked, gesturing wildly with the plot points. I’m a little ashamed to say that I actually stopped paying attention after a few moments, because my focus suddenly seemed drawn to his face. He was grinning - actually grinning, the first genuine smile I’d seen from him in, well, ever- as he opened up about his interest.

I can only remember thinking two things as we walked home that day.

The first was, ‘What a pretty smile.’

The second was, ‘…oh. Crap.’

…So, yeah. It looked like I maybe had a teeny little crush. That was okay! It was fine! It meant I was finally starting to grow up, right? Anyways, whatever Shintaro’s romance manga said, I was pretty sure that people were supposed to get a lot of those with time. They didn’t have to mean anything, or, y’know, gamble their only real non-family friendships on the chance that someone who was really smart and cute would still want to hang out with a dumb girl they barely tolerated helping out if she asked.

Not a problem! I’d just go about my life as normal, and it’d fade in time. Eventually, I’d probably look back on this day and laugh.

…And if in the meantime, I wanted to see him smiling like that again? Well, that could be my little secret.

——

Of course, let nobody accuse me of being a good planner. Obviously, the darn thing only seemed to get stronger with time. Wanting to see Shintaro smile because I wanted him to be happy slowly morphed into wanting to be the reasonhe was smiling like that. Hoping that maybe, if I could be the one to make this lonely boy smile, that’d mean I was actually worth somethingreally the hero I pretended to be.

Mom died, and I had to be the strength for the whole family as dad seemed like half his world had gone missing, but no matter how much I needed comfort of my own, I wasn’t ready to tell him.

We met Takane and Haruka, and one friend turned into three, but even though I’d only be gambling 33% instead of 100, I was still too scared to tell him.

And then I found out that dad had changed, what the thing in his body had planned for Haruka and Takane and my siblings, and suddenly my stupid little feelings didn’t seem so important. I had to research the read eyes, and I needed Shuuya to cover for me, and in the end I didn’t have the attention to spare for my friend my crush my…

…for Shintaro. Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice our growing distant. Why I didn’t notice things growing strained.

Why I didn’t notice that I really was just burdening him with my own expectations.

Didn’t notice until a hill at sunset, a hand snatched away, his back receding into the distance while I stood alone.

After that, I wondered about a lot of things. How much had been genuine, and how much really had just been putting up with me. How much of my motives had been pure, and how much had been that dark little thrill of seeing him down and feeling like I was still needed.

How cruel it must have been, to plan what I was planning and still try to hold onto his hand until the last minute.

So I didn’t try again. I delegated as much school time as I could to Shuuya (and carefully didn’t wonder why his face was growing more stressed, why his own time seemed to draw thin.) I withdrew further, and dedicated everything I had to my lonely mission. August fifteenth came all too soon at last, and I shoved my responsibilities onto Takane, told her to be honest with her feelings even as I swore that my own were better ignored. I wrapped my scarf around my neck, the colour of a hero, I steeled myself and turned to mount the stairs, and I was interrupted.

“Shuuya? What are you doing?” My little brother had arrived in front of me, hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.

“N, neechan, please!” Panting, Shuuya raised his eyes to meet mine. They glistened with tears. “You have to— you have to stop Shintaro-kun! He’s about to do something really stupid!”

“Huh?” I was taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s already gone to the roof! I couldn’t do anything! Neechan, please!”

“The roof?” I still didn’t understand, but I burst into a run anyways, leaving my brother behind. Why was Shintaro even here today, when he didn’t need summer school? Why did Shuuya know about it? What could he be doing on the roof, other than…?

He wasn’t involved. God, please, he wasn’t involved, why was he here?

I took the steps two at a time, ignoring the pain shooting through my lungs, and had no choice but to stop for breath and lean against the wall for a moment when I finally reached the door leading outside.

My father’s voice filtered in from outside. No - not my father. The thingwearing his skin. “Honestly, kid.” He sounded mildly exasperated, like my dad did whenever a student had turned in a particularly baffling answer on a quiz. “You think that you’re gonna be the big damn hero? You really think there’s a single thing you can do here to beat me?”

“No.” Shintaro, this time. “Honestly, it’s a stupid plan. Totally useless in every way. But hey.” A dark chuckle. “Objectively speaking, the life of a rotten boy like me is just worthless enough to make it worth trying.”

I’d finally caught my breath, but at that it caught in my throat. Did he mean—

I burst through the door, screaming, “Shintaro, NO!” The roof was empty except for two people. My father, standing on solid ground looking mildly vexed. And Shintaro, clad in that red jersey I’d said I liked, the color of a hero, sitting perched half-on the fence around the edge of the roof and half dangling over open air.

His eyes met mine, and no matter how hard I try I know I’ll never forget the way his face clouded over, the way his eyes darkened, or the words he said to me at that moment.

“…Oh.

“Ayano.

“The very last person I wanted to see.”

His final curse delivered, he leaned back. The world distorted around him, horrible discordant red tearing open fangs in the sky.

And he fell.

I must have screamed, but it’s a blur. I just know that by the time I came to, I’d fallen on my knees, and the thing that took my father was laughing.

Laughing.

“Ha! You kids never fail to surprise me, you know that? I never once would have expected that depressing little thing to get up off his ass and do something like this!” He paused. “Well okay, I guess I would, but the part where he tried to stand up to me was still new.”

Before I even knew what I was doing, I’d jumped to my feet and was tackling him. “SHUT UP!”

“Whoops!” Somehow, my father’s body stepped out of the way before I could react. I found myself impacting concrete and rolling on the roof, scrapes all over my body where I’d fallen. “Come on, brat. You’re a big girl now, you should be used to hearing swear words by now. Or wait, are you angry about the boy?”

With a wordless scream, I threw myself at him again, but this time he casually stuck out a leg and tripped me.

“You might still have time to save him, you know. Throw yourself off the roof after him, and maybe you could convince him to come on out and bring me that snake he stole.” He sneered. “Of course, it’d mean making this whole little sacrifice play all for nothing. And this guy” he tapped the side of my father’s head, “might even willingly help me kill the brat if you did! Oh, now thatdespair would be delicious to see.”

I swallowed the pain as my fists clenched, scraped raw though they were. “…Shut up. You… you’re just trying to convince me because you know your plan’s finished. You can’t gather the snakes now. There’s no… no more reason to kill Takane and Haruka, or the others.”

*snrk.* The monster covered his mouth with a hand.

“What’s supposed to be so funny?”

“Ha! Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just… you think this kid managed to save your friends? Please.” He rolled his eyes. “He was too late. They’re already dead.” He shrugged and continued in a sing-song voice. “And anyways, the boy was a goner already. You should be thankingme; this way, at least he has a chanceof living for another year or two.”

“W…what…?” I slumped, the fight draining from my veins. No. It couldn’t be. Takane and Haruka… they were gone, too?

My “father” walked up to me and rested a hand on my shoulder. To anyone watching, it might have just looked like a father comforting his daughter; but I could feel his fingers dig into my flesh in a vice grip. “Still, working this all back out from the top is going to be a pain. And that’s not even counting all of the cleanup I have to do! It’s one thing for those other two kids; I’d made preparations for them. But spinning the sudden disappearance of this brat, too? No, that’s far too much work.” He crouched down until he was level with me, a too-wide smile on his face. A shiver ran down my spine. “So, Ayano.I’m going to have you do me a little favor, alright? And before you consider trying to do something brave, consider just who it is that has your family’s life in his hands, hmm? Don’t say anything; just nod.” I nodded, stricken. Everything I’d planned had come to nothing in a few short minutes. “You’re going to find Shuuya for me, and you’re going to have him go make himself look like this guy -“ he waved vaguely at the empty edge of the roof - “’s body for me. A suicide should be easy enough to explain away. Especially when the victim was as gloomy-looking as this asshole here. Honestly, people’re gonna think it was a miracle he lasted as long as he did.” My fists clenched again at relentless slander, but there was nothing I could do. I was totally and utterly defeated. “You got it, Ayano? Do this, and I’ll let the people you care about live a little longer.” He chuckled. “…Well, what’s left of them, at least. Hahahaha!”

How could I have ever thought I could be a hero? All I’d managed to do was arrive too late to save either of the snake’s intended victims, and drag a bystander to his death in the process.

In the end, tears streaming down my face, all I could do was nod.

——

“Neechan!” Shuuya rushed up to me the minute I exited the school. He grabbed my hands - I didn’t resist - and gasped at the scrapes all over them. “What happened to you? Where’s Shintaro-kun?”

“Shintaro— He’s—“ My voice caught.

“Nee…chan…?” I could see the exact moment Shuuya caught on. His eyes widened and his face fell, all in one motion. “Dammit! And just when the guy starts to convince me he’s not all bad, he has to go and do something like this…” His hands tightened involuntarily around mine, but I couldn’t even find the energy to wince.

I spoke in a flat voice, forcing myself to put one word in front of the next. “Shuuya. There’s something very important I need you to do.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“You need to use your power to turn into Shintaro. Let somebody discover ‘his’ body, so there’ll be a record. If you don’t, then… then he’ll…” My voice caught again, but I forced myself to continue before Shuuya could ask any questions. “And then there’s one more thing you need to do. I need you to take Tsubomi and Kousuke, and go away. Go somewhere far away from here, and don’t— don’t tell me anything about where you’re going. You can’t contact me at all, okay? I can’t have any way to find out more about you.”

“W—what?”

“It’s the only way that you’re going to be safe. I… we can’t stop the Clearing Eyes. He can have you all killed in a moment.”

Shuuya must have been able to see the seriousness in my eyes, because he didn’t try to debate the point. “Okay, but… Why can’t you come with us? We can all run, that’ll be safer!”

I just shook my head. “…No. He… he’ll find me, somehow. He knew how to respond to everything that I tried. Anything I do… no matter what, I’m sure he’ll…” I hugged myself and started slowly walking towards the path home. It was clear to me now. I was nothing more than a puppet dancing on the Clearing Eyes’ strings.

“W-wait, Neechan! Come back!”

“Goodbye, Shuuya. Please don’t forget to do what I told you. Consider it… My final request as your sister.”

“NEECHAN!”

——

“…Hey, Shintaro. Why’d you do it?”

I lie on my back, staring at the empty ceiling as I talk to the air.

“I mean… You could have stayed out of it. It wasn’t your fight.”

The cranes crowding every surface above me seem to swirl and distort, like a heat haze.

My head keeps playing his final moments on repeat. Even as the happy days grow dimmer and dimmer, I can’t seem to forget his last words no matter how hard I try.

‘The very last person I wanted to see.’

“If… if you hated me so much, why didn’t you just let me be the one to jump? Why take my place?”

I wonder… if I’d been the one to jump that day, would he have been able to do what I couldn’t? I indulge in a brief fantasy of Shintaro, red jacket flapping behind him, standing tall with my siblings as they face down the Clearing Eyes together.

…Somehow, I just can’t see it. Sorry, Shintaro.

‘The life of a rotten boy like me is worthless’

“…Did you hate yourselfthat much? Were you so sick of life that you grabbed the first excuse you could find?”

…Maybe. But… somehow, as much as he tried to shut the world out, I can’t help but see Shintaro as someone who was brimming with life underneath it all. At the very least, whenever he talked about his sister, he didn’t seem like he’d want to leave her.

The thought of Momo-chan makes me wince. Another memory, this time of her crying and screaming at me when I’d tried to comfort her.

When I’d broken down and sobbed that it was all my fault.

I can’t blame her for hating me. To be honest, I wonder if it wasn’t what I was secretly hoping for.

Just another case where Ayano’s self-satisfaction came before actually doing her job.

My alarm clock rings. I’d set it instead of my phone, to make sure Ene couldn’t try and be a hero. (I can’t help but hope that she’s given up on me, and found her way to somebody who’ll be a better friend.) It means that the children…

…my victims…

…should be arriving soon.

I push myself to my feet. In the end, even blaming myself is just pointless self-satisfaction. I’ve made the choice to play this role; I made the decision that these two children were worth less than the family I know and care about.

It doesn’t take too long to get myself presentable. I choose an outfit that looks like its owner hasn’t been in hiding for the last two years, and glance at my scarf, hanging wrinkled and dusty on a hook.

My hands shake.

And I turn away without touching it. I don’t deserve to wear that color.

Not when red is the color of blood.

“Sorry, Shintaro. Guess you made the wrong trade, in the end. Even a genius like you makes mistakes, huh?”

With that snide remark, I turn my back on his sacrifice and walk out into the house.

…Still, a thought flits across my mind.

—Ah, I would have liked to see that smile, just one more time.

The doorbell rings. It’s time.

I hide my feelings behind a smile, painting it from ear to ear.

And I open the front door.

[maxmagi]

A List of My OTPs

because it's 11 and I can't sleep.

Enjolras x Grantaire a.k.a. Enjoltaire a.k.a. ExR- Les Mis

How I fell into this I don't remember now. I vaguely remember reading a crackfic of this and then everything just went sideways.

This was also the fandom that helped me realize that I wasn't exactly straight and that it's okay to not be loud about my sexuality, that I can just be.

I think that explains my attachment to this ship, not to mention just the movie's Grantaire (played by George Blagden) also shipped the characters and played his character like how he thought it should be, Grantaire loving and pining after Enjolras without the revolutionary knowing it.

Except in the fan fics, Enjolras returns his feelings and they work it out, even though it's not easy because they're both stubborn as mules. Ah, ultimate fantasy I guess. And the number of great fics here, *whistle*

Also, the Les Amis? Is amazing? Especially in the modern AUs? Like they're great friends? I love this fandom so much! Permets-tu!

Shen Wei x Zhao Yunlan - Guardian / Zhen Hun

C'mon, Zhu Yilong & Bai Yu's performance and emotions? Plus just the fact the fanfic writers of this ship are absolutely amazing? Please, escape from this pairing is impossible!

Best opposites attract trope for me. An academic by day, superhero by night in love with a roguish police chief who has no powers but whose charisma, wit, and heart can get him to toe to toe with the legends.

Also, Professor Shen Wei constantly acting like an innocent civilian and lying badly? Gold!

Loki x Tony Stark a.k.a. FrostIron - Avengers

How did I honestly get to this ship? I really can't remember what started it all. I think it must have been a Loki redemption fic where Tony Stark and Pepper broke up and something something happened. Let me tell you, the writers of this ship have written sagas and ballads of epic and sometimes confusing proportions, and that is why I fell deeper into the pit. I mean, they gotta give justice to two brilliant but chaotic characters, right? Angst. This ship has sooooooooo much angst.

Eiji x Ash - Banana Fish

My god, if you want to keep your heart intact and not be reminded of all that's ugly in the world, DON'T WATCH OR READ BANANA FISH. YOUR HEART WILL NEVER HEAL!

If you're gonna watch/read it anyway, make sure to watch something fluffy and sweet after. There's a reason that people from this fandom go, "If you've seen Banana Fish's ending, then you can handle whatever angsty show you're watching now." ~ or something to that effect. Another thing we like to say in this fandom is, "Other fandoms: Let's write a Mafia AU! Banana Fish fandom: We are the Mafia AU." Yes, all of us in this fandom is dramatic af.

Yuuri x Viktor - Yuuri!!! on Ice

Uh, does this really need an explanation? Aside from the fact that you will surprisingly find a lot of Mafia AUs here because we all know that hiding behind that beautiful face of Viktor Nikiforov is a devil capable of... tearing down your self-confidence, like WTF Viktor, don't make Yuuri cry! Also, their dance together at the end, such beautiful love.

Magnus Bane x Alec Lightwood aka Malec - Shadowhunters

I never read the books and have no plans to in the near future. I just saw a video on Youtube about why Malec is life and now here I am, still reading some Malec fics from time to time.

Some stuff on the show were WTF but overall they were a really good couple who supported each other. Plus, they're a Power Couple.

Erwin x Levi aka Eruri - Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin

Not to be confused with Ereri, which is Eren x Levi, which I don't generally ship except for that one time when a writer wrote an epic fanfic series with Eren in his mid 20s and Levi in his late 20s/early 30s, reincarnation AU. Boy was that one a surprise. I did not expect that.

Anyway, I'm an Eruri fan through and through. Especially with that promise that Levi made to Erwin. And the reason he gave the serum to Armin. HE DIDN'T DO IT FOR THE KIDS YKNOW. HE DID IT FOR ERWIN. Plus, Levi, Erwin, and Hange are my special trio. Erwin's batch was really amazing.

Also, I really like the fact that the shorter and slighter person is the more badass fighter while the taller, bigger one is the more calculating and strategic one. Rocks the boat of stereotypes and all that. Bonus: how these two met. My god, what a meet-cute! 😂

Dani x Jamie aka The Au Pair and the Gardener - The Haunting of Bly Manor

It really is more of a love story than a ghost story. I dunno how to feel about this. I loved these two characters so much and I wished they had a better ending but I wasn't SO surprised because it was a horror series (Like, I was still hoping at the end that they'd be together forever but yknow...). In any case, Jamie was just awesome. And her nickname for Dani? Poppins?! God, what a lover and fighter. She was not afraid to cock a gun in a ghost's face.

... and now for my flexible BROTPs

Merlin x Arthur aka Merthur - BBC Merlin

Yeah, my brain is so chaotic multiple OTPs and BROTPs of the same pairing exist at the same time without clashing with one another or having major identity crises.

I actually really like BROTP Merlin and Arthur and also like reading OTP Merthur.

And when Merlin is paired with Morgana or Freya or sometimes even Gwaine, that's fine with me too. As long as his bromance with Arthur stays intact, because that's what drew me to the show in the first place. Personal preference. I see them as platonic soulmates.

*Shout-out to the Merthur writers though, you kept me sane during my "Post-Merlin Depression," which is actually a term thrown around in the fandom because of that horrid final season (not saying it's a good term but it's what it was called). A lot of amazing fics here, too, both Magic Reveal and Modern AU ones. Full of action and adventure too! I mean, there are boy-band-looking Knights and magic-wielding badasses!

Tim Drake x Conner Kent/Kon-El aka Red Robin x Super Boy - DC Comics

More like flexible otp. I dig Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake BUT I really really also dig Tim Drake and Conner Kent. When they're TimKon, it's like an entirely different entity from TimSteph. Ugh, hard to explain.

I mean, Kon telling Tim, "You'll always be my Robin" and Tim telling Kon, "And you'll always be my clone boy" is the shit. Also when Kon could pick out/recognize Tim's heartbeat. And when Tim nearly went mad scientist trying to bring his bestie back. Like, dudes, wtf. And at the same time, hell yeah.

Liu Kang x Kung Lao aka LiuLao - Mortal Kombat

- I see these two as more like ride or die best friends connected by fate/platonic soulmates. But also like their dynamic is so awesome, cute, sweet, badass, can't-live-without-you vibes.

Basically the same way I feel about Merthur. I like reading both romantic and platonic relationships between these two characters. Like, the LiuLao fan creators peeling off the layers of this relationship and exposing every raw nerve is beautiful.

They love diving into the characters' psyche, emotions, motivations, fears, and doubts and you get really amazed because... Aren't they just characters from a video game, you ask? Well yeah, but MK video game has several interesting storylines and the Mortal Kombat 2021 movie was just the perfect jumpstarter to this beautiful blaze.

I mean, "We swore that if we were to die, it would be together"? Hell no, you're not dropping that on us and not expecting us to create our very own spin-offs and 12-page essays on that shit. That's what we fans do, baby. And also, really, we need a shaolin monks/white lotus spin-off/prequel. We're starving here.

As this ship is the newest one on my list, it's the one I'm looking forward to the most. Not enough fan content, I tell you. Not enough. One of these days, I just might add my own.

But right now, it's past 1 and so I shall attempt to sleep.

***No images for TimKon and LiuLao coz apparently I've gone past my 10-images allowance 😤

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Zuko x female reader series: Part Six

After leaving the firenation you and Zuko track the avatar down, break into a fire nation prison and you get into a fist fight with Sokka...but your fun summer aside, It all comes down the agni kai between Zuko and Azula. Although you’re only there for support you end up doing more harm than good for Zuko...

Part One here

Part Two here

Part Three here

Part Four here

Part Five here

Tagged: @taeeemin​ @creation-magician​ @kaylove12​

The first meeting

After leaving the fire nation you’d found the avatar pretty easily and now it was just the matter of convincing him not to attack you that was the problem. Zuko rehearsed his speech to an audience of you and a frog you’d befriended and you and said frog glanced at one another not convinced as Zuko finished his speech. Zuko saw you expression and groaned “this is stupid! I’ve dragged us out here for no reason, they’re not going to let us stay”. You shook your head “no they will it just depends on what you say! Come on we can get this right! Try again but this time maybe don’t seem so...teriffied?”. Zuko sighed but tried again.

Zuko wouldn’t let you come with him the first time he approached them incase they reacted badly and you agreed only because one fire bender was less intimidating and punchable then two fire benders. Despite all your rehearsal the inital meeting didn’t go well but Zuko eventually managed to get the gang to agree to your presence. He only had to risk getting attacked by them and then save their lives from an assasin, almost dying in the process, but he came back beaming to tell you the gang was expecting you. Zuko led you to their camp and the gang came into view, each and every one of them staring at you. You stared back, putting names to faces and Zuko stopped infront of Aang. “Aang, erm everyone this is y/n, she’s a firebender so she can help teach you aswell”. Aang smiled at you hesitantly but the two water siblings huffed and the earthbender just frowned. “Nice to meet you, cool airbison” you said in greeting and Aang couldn’t resist a smile “thanks his name’s Appa!”. “He’s glorious” you grinned “can i stroke him?”. In reply Appa licked you and you made a noise of disgust and suprise. Aang laughed “that means he likes you! He must smell Zuko on you”. You exchanged a raised eyebrow with Zuko but smiled back at Aang “great I made a friend already!”. The water tribe girl, Katara according to Zuko, made a noise and rolled her eyes walking away. Her brother and the earth bender stared at you but seemed equally curious as they were angry at you, which for a first day you took as a win.

The gang’s reaction to you and Zuko

Straight away you could tell the gang was confused how you and Zuko worked. You knew Zuko had mentioned you were dating but still the gang all seemed shocked at the concept. The Zuko they knew was so different to the one you knew and even though Zuko was never one for PDA even watching him be casually sweet and attentive to you was like seeing a completely different person from the angry man they first met. The day after you arrived Aang started his firebending training and Zuko asked you to help. You were more than happy to but soon realised something was wrong with Zuko. He trired showing Aang the forms but he didn’t have any fire. You basically ended up demonstrating everything to Aang while Zuko got more and more stressed that he couldn’t do it. Aware Zuko didn’t perform well under pressure you told Zuko you should break away from the training session to give him and Aang time to bond. You’d barely been back at camp 10 minutes when Zuko and Aang came into view on their way back to camp, training apparently abandonned. Aang reached you first and explained Zuko still couldn’t fire bend. You looked up the hill to where Zuko was slowly sulking his way back to camp and frowned, he looked sad, his body language defeated, head slumped. You weren’t having this and without a word to the gang marched over to Zuko.

The gang’s POV

The gang watched super confused, and partially fearing for your safety due to the look on Zuko’s face, as you marched over to Zuko. You reached him and they all held their breath. They couldn’t hear what you said but whatever it was made Zuko more upset, he exploded, gesturing wildly to where him and Aang had been training and they all recognised that temper. What they hadn’t seen though was someone control it. You touched Zuko’s hand and his whole body seemed to deflate. You gripped his hand and stared speaking to him calmly with a small smile on your face. Zuko sighed but smiled too and you hugged him tightly. They were all shocked when Zuko sunk into you and wrapped his arms around you burying his head in your neck. You seperated and said something making Zuko smile and took his hand leading him back to the camp. Sokka raised an eyebrow but Katara rolled her eyes “so he’s kind to his girlfriend, big deal he still tried to kill us”.

Zuko and Aang’s went on a fieldtrip to re-learn firebending and when they returned the gang all watched amazed as Zuko animatedly told you details of what had happened. None of them had ever seen the boy smile let alone talk so happily, it was odd. You smiled at Zuko brightly and after he’d told you everything he seated hismelf beside you an arm around you. You leant into him, tracing his hand around you, and Zuko grinned at whatever you were saying. "Is anyone actually buying this?" Katara asked watching and Sokka frowned "what the fire duo?". Katara nodded and Aang shrugged "they seem pretty happy maybe Zuko was always tring to kill us because y/n wasn’t with him". Katara scoffed as Sokka nodded like that was a plausible excuse for trying to kill them.

The first fight

Your first argument with the gang was with Sokka and unsuprisingly it was about food. The daily rations had just been split 6 ways and there wasn’t much of it, something the ever perceptive Toph noticed. "That’s it for food?" she asked when Sokka passed her a bowl and he sighed "yes there’s not much to go around now there’s 6 of us". You were sat nearby and thought the tone Sokka used was very pointed but didn’t comment.  Aang frowned "so we'll get more food, no big deal". "I mean it kind of is a big deal" Sokka sighed "it was hard enough the four of us and now there’s six of us...”. “I needed a firebending teacher Sokka you know that” Aaang shrugged and Sokka rolled his eyes. “Yes and I get letting Zuko in to teach you but do we really need to be responsible for every run away from the firenation?" Sokka asked talking about you. "First it’s his girlfriend but what next? His whole extended family? His gardener? This is hard enough as it is without Zuko’s girl tagging along". "Zuko’s girl? Tagging along?" you asked loudly and Sokka jumped seeing you’d heard. “You think that’s what I did?” you smirked "I was no use to Zuko during the escape, I didn’t help him get here or anything?”. “I didn’t say that” Sokka started but you cut him off “and we brought food too so i’m not the reason food’s short, you’re the one who eats like a horse. I’m just as much an asset as Zuko". Sokka raised an eyebrow "really because he’s a fire bending prince". "And i’m a fire bending navy expert, what can you do?". Sokka blushed "well i....". "Water tribe right?” you said not giving him the chance to repeat himself “but you can’t water bend can you?" you asked smirking as the boy glared "i can still fight" Sokka cried. "Really prove it, fight me" you grinned. Sokka frowned "i’m not going to do that". "Why because i’ll beat you?". "I’m a warrior of the souther water tribe" Sokka argued and you rolled your eyes "big deal i’ve been sparring with Azula Mai and Ty lee since I was 7, have you ever played fire knives with Azula? I don’t think so, you’ll be easy". Sokka glared and you knew you’d triggered him. "Okay no bending" Sokka said and you nodded "sure and no weapons, that includes boomerangs". "Guys are you sure..." Katara started but Toph shushed her “shut up Katara I want to feel Sokka get his ass kicked”. You and Sokka stood feet away from each other and Sokka smirked looking past you to Zuko "don’t worry i won’t hurt her too much" he said cockily and your anger peaked. You were going to teach this water tribesmann who was useless.

_ _ _

The fight over, you and Sokka sat beside one another on the floor. Sokka held an icepack to his head for the swelling, it was the only injury you’d given him Katara couldn’t heal, while you inspected the red mark from where Sokka bit you when you had him in a headlock. "I’m sorry about that" Sokka blushed "i don’t usually bite, it’s not noble for a warrior to do". "Any victory is a victory no matter the means...even if you lost" you replied. Sokka frowned but you smirked at him to let him know you were joking and Sokka laughed. "I let you win". You raised an eyebrow and Sokka sighed "okay maybe i didn’t but there’s no shame in losing to a better opponent". You grinned "friends?" And Sokka nodded "friends".

Zuko and Katara’s POV

Zuko and katara watched you two confused. You’d gone from arguing, to physically attacking one another to now laughing like old friends. "Is she...does y/n always fight people?" Katara asked hesitantly. Zuko shrugged "usually not physically but yeah she does that, does your brother usually bite people?". Katara shook her head "nope just your girlfriend". "I don’t know if i should be offended or pleased?" Zuko frowned.

The prison break

True to your promise, after you fight you and Sokka became fast friends mainly because you had the same reckless energy and it was utter chaos when you two were brainstorming ideas. Zuko was kind of jealous at first but you reassured him he’d always be your best friend even if he was your boyfriend and Zuko didn’t mind as much. Sokka didn’t object to you coming with him to rescue his dad and considering you actually knew where the prison was considered you a pretty important asset.

You were meant to stay on the ship during the prison break but that idea went to pot as soon as the steam made the ship useless. So you entered the prison with Zuko and Sokka and soon enough Zuko got caught. You managed to get the job guarding his cell though so could keep an eye on him when there was an announcement important guests had arrived. Your plan to escape was soon so you ditched your guard uniform and headed to your meeting point when you came across one said important visitor who spotted you straight away.

Mai.

You swore inwardly but tried to offer a friendly smile incase she was in a forgiving mood "hey Mai...". A knife was embedded in the wall next to you and you nodded "okay okay, before we start trying to kill each other any chance you'll accept my apology, realise me and Zuko didn’t mean to hurt you and let me go?". Mai sent a knife for you and you used your bending to only just knock it off course. "Fine i guess violence is the answer" and launched into an attack. You didn’t want to hurt Mai so mainly avoided her attacks in an effort to tire her so you could then take her out carefully. The best way to do that was to make her lose focus. You’d been told your best weapon in a fight was your mouth, you could make people angry and lose concentration easily and so tried to use some of that now on Mai. "Also just to clarify i’m not fighting you because of Zuko, i mean two girls fighting over a guy is so gross and demeaning i’m fighting you because you’re trying to stab me! Alright? Okay good, just wanted to make that clarification". "Stop talking!" Mai cried and you smirked, it was working. You carried on talking nonesense, apologising for that time at school you’d accidentally fell on her in gym, that time at the dinner party you’d knocked her drink over, that time when you were eight and called her knives dumb etc, until finally Mai’s anger peaked but it didn’t make her an easier opponent, the anger seemed to fuel her. Mai threw a knife and before you could move it landed in your arm. The pain was red hot and more intense that any burn or hit you’d been inflicted before. Angry and barely thinking you retaliated. You yanked the knife out of your arm and sent it right back at her. Mai hadn’t been expecting that and neither had you. It cut her hand and you stared "Mai i’m sorry...". "Stop apologising" she cried trying to attack you again “fight!”. “I don’t want to fight you” you cried and Mai glared “well i’m not letting you go, this doesn’t end until me or you can’t get back up”. You winced “I hate to disagree with you but no”. You shot a wave of fire at her knocking her back against the door of a cell. “Sorry” you winced and kicked her in the chest. She tumbled into the room and you slammed the door shut. Mai beat her fists against the door in rage and you grimanced opening the eye hole. "Mai i’m sorry but I’m not fighting you so this way I don’t have to, i hope you can understand that and some day we can maybe be friends again" and then rushed away. Your escape was still in motion and you had serious time to make up for. You ran down a tunnel and shot out into the sunlight of the main yard. You spotted Zuko and Sokka and worked your way through the crowd to them. You reached Zuko and the others and were panting hard "Mai’s here...very angry...we need to go". Zuko nodded gripping your hand "yep that seems wise, let’s go!". “The barge is this way” Suki cried and you all took off running again.  

You’d finally reached the barge with minimal trouble when the pain in your arm flared and you held it awkwardly trying to ease the pain. Zuko spotted the blood on your arm and frowned “Y/n!”. "It’s fine" you smiled seeing his worry and he shook his head ripping a piece of fabric off his shirt “No it’s not, here”. He wrapped it around your arm tightly "i’m sorry we'll get you back to Katara soon" and squeezed your hand. You smiled and Zuko looked at you for a few more seconds before he had to turn away to help Sokka. Mai wasn’t the only one in the prison, Azula and Ty lee were here too of course. You watched the fight from the barge, furious you couldn’t join in but your arm was making you feel faint so you knew fighting was not an option for you. Azula and Ty lee appeared to be winning but thanks to Mai you got away. You cheered for Mai as she attacked the guards, taking out multiple men at once and Zuko looked at you confused “y/n she just stabbed you”. “But she saved us Zuko” you smiled “my apology worked...that or she just wants to kill us herself...no it’s hopefully the first one!” and then you prompty fainted from blood loss.

_ _ _

When you came round you were back at camp, arm healed courtsey of Katara, Zuko asleep at the foot of your sleeping bag. You sat up carefully not wanting to wake him but Sokka didn’t get the memo. “Y/n” he yelled seeing you and rushed over. Zuko jolted awake and stopped Sokka from touching you “don’t she could still be sore!”. “I’m fine Zuko” you smirked but still he pushed Sokka away from you so he could hug you first. “You worried me when you fainted...I had no idea your arm was that bad...i’m so sorry”. “Don’t be” you smiled “i’m fine aren’t i? and we got Sokka’s dad! and Mai might have forgiven us! All in all it was a good trip”. “Only you could think you almost dying was a success”. “Almost” you said pointedly “almost dying Zuko”. Zuko rolled his eyes and kissed you making Sokka groan “ugh I think I’ll take my hug later...” and left you and Zuko alone.  

The campsite

Azula soon found your hiding place in the western air temple forcing you to move to a camping ground and there was a limited number of tents. Katara was trying to sort out the sleeping arrangements but she miscalculated.  "And y/n you can share my tent" Katara announced, her long and careful explanation finished and you and Zuko exchanged a look. "That’s sweet Katara but i’m fine bunking with Zuko". You’d barely finished your sentance when Sokka spluttered in suprise. "But you can’t do that" Sokka cried and you raised an eyebrow "why not?". "Because you’re dating" he cried but you and Zuko shrugged "and?". “And? well it’s...it’s against the rules! I’m not allowed to share with Suki, tell them Katara!" he cried pushing his sister forwards who frowned awkwardly. "Well we’re older than you" you shrugged and Zuko nodded "and smarter". "Plus we’re engaged" you pointed out and everyone’s eyes widenned "what?". "Is she lying?" Aang asked Zuko shook his head "i mean no...just i didn’t actually ask her my father did it for me but yes, technically speaking we are engaged". You nodded to Sokka "are you and Suki engaged?". "Well no..." he blushed. "Then that’s why you can’t share a tent" you retorted and pulled Zuko’s arm as you went into the tent "night guys". Zuko followed you as Sokka called out protests and Katara just sighed "leave them alone Sokka". Sokka stared mouth wide-open before an idea formed in his head and he started towards Suki’s tent. "Go to your own tent Sokka!" Katara called and Sokka cursed "ow come on!".

You moved around campsites pretty regularly after that incase Azula found you again and ended up in an old villa Zuko’s family owned. Everything was going fine, you had a beach day, Zuko and Aang got better at firebending, you even managed to drag Zuko to the theatre and then Aang went missing. With Aang gone Zuko figured the only person who could take on his father was his uncle and so you set out to find him. Zuko recruited an old friend to help and you soon found King Bumi and the white lotus who took you to Iroh’s camp site. Bumi told Zuko the tent Iroh was in and you saw Zuko tense and fear covered his face. “Don’t worry” you said patting his arm “your uncle will forgive you, just tell him what you told me and it’ll all be okay”. Zuko nodded but seemed unable to do much else, he looked paralysed. “Can you...can you come with me?” Zuko asked softly and your heart exploded in sympathy. “Of course I will” you nodded hugging him tightly. The others all dispersed and you and Zuko walked arm and arm to the tent. Zuko took a breath before entering and you looked at him “ready?”. He nodded looking at you before fixing his eyes on the tent opening and he stepped inside. You followed a few steps behind and saw Zuko look around before his posture slumped. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust but Zuko filled you in on what was happening “we should go he’s asleep”. You frowned knowing Zuko wouldn’t get any rest until this was done. “Why don’t we wait for him to wake up?”. Zuko looked at you before nodding “yeah okay”. You sat crosslegged on the floor beside one another waiting for Iroh to wake up. The hours stretched on and on and you felt sleep trying to take you but you resisted. You kept ahold of Zuko’s hand letting him know you were there with him. You were sure the time felt far worse for him and weren’t going to leave him, even if it was just to sleep. When Iroh did move Zuko jumped and you swallowed. “It’s okay” you assured him and he nodded standing up. Zuko moved forwards and you didn’t follow. This should be between him and his uncle, but when Zuko started to cry your heart did crumple slightly. Just as you were begging Iroh to forgive him already he wrapped Zuko into a tight hug and, also crying, forgave him. Tears fell down your cheeks too as you smiled at the sight of Zuko and his uncle. Iroh noticed you when he opened his eyes and he smiled warmly.  "Y/n get in here" Iroh grinned holding out a hand to you. You blushed “ow are you sure? I mean this is your family moment...I don’t want to intrude”. Iroh scoffed "any girl who visited me in prison and snook me snacks is family in my eyes". You grinned and Zuko frowned "wait you visited my uncle in prison?". You shrugged "not too often about once a week". "How did i not know this?" Zuko asked and you paled "i purposefully didn’t tell you, i wanted you to work out your feelings on your own, i hope you’re not mad". Zuko shook his head "of course i’m not mad now come here". You smiled and stepped forward to join the hug between Zuko and Iroh.

Afterwards you caught Iroh up on everything he’d missed and Zuko explained his idea to have Iroh overthrow Ozai. Even as Zuko said it you got the feeling it wouldn’t happen, you could tell by Iroh’s reaction he had something different in mind. When Iroh said it wasn’t him who should be the new firelord you knew where he was going, you’d already been suspecting Zuko should have more say in how the fire nation was run and Iroh apparently agreed. "Me? Firelord?" Zuko asked "but i can’t...". Sokka, Toph, Katara and Suki just looked to you, now very used to you giving Zuko pep talks and you were on it. "You can" you smiled taking Zuko’s hand "i figured you’d have to do it for a while now and you’ve proven yourself Zuko, you can do this". Zuko stared at you blankly as his uncle joined in, listing the reasons why Zuko would make a good ruler. Zuko gripped your hand tighter as what you were both saying set in. "Okay" he barely whispered "i’ll go see Azula and become..." he swallowed and you smiled "you won’t be facing her alone" you told him and Zuko beamed at you.  

The Agni Kai

Judgement day here you and Zuko returned to the fire nation so he could fight his sister. Katara accompanied you as you figured you’d need a healer no matter who won. You landed in the courtyard and told Appa to fly away in case Azula tried to hurt him. You stood behind Zuko, beside Katara, waiting for the fight of his life. If he won he became firelord, if he didn’t...lets just say there’s no way Azula would let any of you live. The fight began and you stayed out of the way of Azula and Zuko’s duel as much as you could. With the comet fueling their bending it was one of the most intense fights you’d ever witnessed but Zuko was performing well. As Azula started to lose you could see her eyeing her surroundings for a way out and she fixed on you. You were ready for this, back at camp Iroh had warned you about this and given you a crash course in deflecting lightning, you pushed Katara back and readied yourself to deflect your first lightning bolt ever as it hurtled towards you. Zuko yelled out chasing it but was too slow, not that it mattered. You caught it and using the technique Iroh had taught you shot it right back at Azula. It worked and you were thrilled until you realised Zuko had been running towards you and was now right in the path of the deflected bolt. The bolt struck both Zuko and Azula within seconds of one another and sent them both flying back at the force. The smoke cleared and you went cold as you saw Zuko smouldering on the ground. "Zuko" you yelled rushing to him, it had hit him on the shoulder and the wound was badly burnt. "Katara" you called and she rushed over. "Heal him! Please! please!" You pleaded "i didn’t mean to hit him, i didn’t know he was so close". Katara worked and you stared at Zuko’s burn, the burn you’d given him until his breathing evened out and you gasped in relief. "I’m going to go make sure Azula’s okay and bind her" Katara told you and you nodded barely even listening as you cradled Zuko "Zuko are you okay?" you asked "Zuko i’m so sorry!". "Don’t be" he smiled weakly "i should’ve learnt long ago you don’t need me to save you, when did you learn to do that? More secret visits with my uncle". "Maybe" you smiled before frowning at Zuko’s burn that would surely form a scar despite Katara’s help "i can’t believe i did that to you". "Don't' Zuko said moving your gaze to his face "you did it, we did, we won". You nodded smiling and hugged him, carefully, but none the less passionately.

When Zuko was well enough you helped him to stand and walked him to the balcony overlooking all of the firenation. Zuko looked over the city below and you followed his gaze. It was still barely light but dusk was approaching and small lights were lighting up around the city. They news would be spreading as you stood here that Zuko was the new firelord and the war was finally over. You smiled standing beside him "surveying your new kingdom? Looking for a place to build a statue of yourself?". Zuko tutted but smiled. "This doesn’t feel normal" he sighed "this...that i’m...". "Firelord" you smiled "Firelord Zuko". Zuko nodded "it even sounds weird you saying it". You smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist. Zuko didn’t hesitate to wrap his around your shoulder. "It sounds weird now but you’re going to be an amazing Firelord Zuko, you’re kind and smart and actually want to help people! We haven’t had a firelord with that mentality in...well forever! I have total faith in you". Zuko sighed "i’m glad someone does". "Hey" you said tilting his face to yours "remember what i said to you on that ship all that time ago, i never lie about important things. You will be an amazing Firelord Zuko, just you wait and see". Zuko smiled and kissed you softly. You smiled stroking his cheek as you kissed him back. Zuko broke away but pulled you to his chest wrapping his arms around you. You smiled looking out at the city. "With you with me i can’t mess this up too badly right?". You smiled "that’s right, together we can handle this".

2 years later

"Y/n" Zuko groaned as you messed with his hair but he didn’t push you away. You’d been on your longest voyage since you’d been dating and honestly Zuko wouldn’t push you away from him even if you were stabbing him he’d missed you so much. You’d returned this morning after a 6 month naval trip to the water tribe and Zuko had left your side once. He had to leave for a small disaster in one of the colonies and that had killed him but now he was back in his rightful place beside you and that was all that mattered. You were messing with his hair, trying to get his hair free of the crown he’d had to put on to attend his crisis meeting. You were never of a fan of anything restricting Zuko’s hair and finally yanked the clip from his hair and smiled as it fell down in all it’s glory. "There" you said patting his shoulders and Zuko shook his head blowing a piece of hair out of his face. "Y/n you know i can’t have my hair down all the time". "But why not? You’re the Firelord and now is the time for important changes!". Zuko rolled his eyes but smiled "and this is the big change you think i should make?". You nodded "ow yes, you need to look respectable as Firelord and with your hair down you look really really good" you sighed and Zuko smirked. "Well i’m glad you like it but it’s not practical, how would i even wear my crown?" Zuko asked and you frowned before pushing him down so you could reach his head. "Hmmm maybe we could fashion a little stand, or pin some pieces to hold it in place...". "That sounds like a lot of effort" Zuko commented when you gasped "or you could plait it!". "Plait it?" Zuko asked and you nodded. "I saw lots of men with plaits in their hair in the water tribe on my visit, Sokka’s dad has one and it looks very good on a man". Zuko raised an eyebrow "you think Sokka’s dad looks good?". "No...well yes Hakoda is hot but you’re missing the point, let’s do your hair like that!". "No i think we should go back to the Hakoda’s hot part..." Zuko commented but you hushed him and pushed him to sit on the floor as you fiddled with his hair. Zuko sighed but liked the feeling of you playing with his hair so smiled and closed his eyes. You were gentle and your touch soft so Zuko relaxed into you until you abruptly stood up "done!". You showed Zuko himself in the mirror and he smiled "wow it does look good". "I told you" you grinned when the door opened and Sokka walked in. You’d brought him back from your trip as a suprise for Zuko and he’d wasted no time settling into the palace and letting himself into rooms without knocking apparently. "Zuko where do you...." Sokka started before he stopped dead in his tracks seeing Zuko’s hair. He started laughing with glee while crying "water tribe!" multiple times as he pointed at Zuko "you’ve got a water tribe hairstyle!". "Yeah y/n apparently thinks they look good on the men in your tribe" Zuko said raising an eyebrow, still not over your comment about Sokka’s dad, but you weren’t listening. As soon as Sokka heard you could plait hair he’d grabbed you "do mine! do mine!" and shook his hair loose. Zuko watched as you pulled Sokka’s hair into a plait delicately until it looked like his. "Finished" you smiked and Sokka rushed to the mirror before laughing at himself in glee too. You smiled as Sokka grabbed Zuko "we look like twins!". Zuko raised an eyebrow but you saved him the effort of replying "now do mine Sokka!". Sokka complied and you made Zuko watch so he could do it for you when Sokka wasn’t here.

Plaits all finished it was quiet a sight, the three of you sat together with matching hairstyles. You had a games night and then relaxed and chatted. You soon fell asleep against Zuko, your journey and reunion with him tiring you out too much to wait for Sokka to leave, and unbothered Zuko and Sokka carried on chatting.The conversation went quiet and Sokka looked at you "is she asleep?" he whispered and Zuko frowned "y/n?" he called but you didn’t stir "i think so". Sokka smiled "so wanna see the necklace?". Zuko nodded and Sokka went into his pocket pulling out the betrothal necklace Zuko wanted. "I had Piandao help me make it like you wanted" Sokka told him and opened the box. Zuko didn’t want a design exactly like the water tribe one, the fire nation was different and so a different necklace was needed. The one he asked Sokka to make was thinner, with a black cord crisscrossing several times before dipping down where a red stone sat, glimmering in the light. Zuko grinned, it was exactly like he’d imagined it. "Do you think she'll like it?" Sokka asked and Zuko nodded looking down at you "yes". "Well she better or she’s never going to say yes to marrying you". Zuko gulped, that was true but Sokka hit his arm "i was joking, of course she'll say yes, she loves you more than anything, anyone can see that just watching you two together". Zuko smiled down at you asleep against his chest and thought about the proposal he’d prepared. He was going to take you to your favourite restuarant, a tradition you’d still kept up even after he turned into the firelord, and treat you to your favourite foods. Then you’d walk back to the palace through all your favourite spots in the gardens and end up by the turtle duck pond. He’d have your turtleduck come over with the necklace securely attached to his back and Zuko would ask you then and there. "I hope so" he sighed when you moved in your sleep suddenly. "Zuko can we go to bed" you yawned "i’m tired and the light is very bright". Zuko and Sokka froze as you sat up and you frowned "what? Did i drool or something when i was napping?". They both sighed in relief, you hadn’t heard. "Yeah we can go to bed" Zuko nodded and Sokka stood up "i’ll see you guys tomorrow" and sneakily left the box on a table for Zuko. You were oblivious already pulling the covers back to get into bed. Sokka grinned at Zuko and made his way to the door "night y/n" he called and you said a sleepy reply before face diving into the bed. Zuko smirked closing the door and turning the light off before joining you. You sighed sleepily as Zuko snook closer to you and pulled you against him. You shuffled your head getting comfy against him and eventually stopped "goodnight Firelord" you said sleepily and Zuko smirked, he still hadn’t gotten used to it but he liked how it sounded when you said it. "Goodnight y/n" he smiled kissing your head but you were already asleep. "I really hope you say yes" he whispered before resting his head beside yours and going to sleep.

You said yes of course.

______

So that’s it! I had to get in a comment about Zuko’s hair progression one last time because honestly that was one of the greatest things about the whole series. This was kinda hard to write cus so much happened once Zuko joined the gaang but i tried to split it into parts so hopefully it wasn’t too disjointed 😐

Thank you for all the likes and support it means a lot :)

[ladykissingfish]

A Date with an Angel // Part Two // Hidan and Obito

Hidan

“Order whatever you want; I swiped the old fuck’s credit card so dinner’s on him!” Konan panics at this, and refuses to pick up her menu until Hidan takes out his wallet and proves that he was just kidding. Today was Hidan’s turn at entertaining the lovely little lady, and he had originally intended to take her to a heavy metal performance at bar downtown (he was friends with the lead guitarist so they would have gotten in free). However, after he informed Nagato of his plans, he was met with a disappointing “Konan hates heavy metal.”, so he decided to take her to dinner instead. She seemed entirely suspicious when he approached her earlier (wearing a dress shirt and tie instead of his usual dirty muscle tank and ripped sweatpants), but nonetheless agreed to go with him to a quiet little cafe a few blocks down from the house. Konan has never really known what to make of Hidan. He was just slightly older than Deidara, but (in Konan’s opinion) ranking much higher on the “immaturity” wheel. He’s been nicknamed by the rest of the group as “Mr. Never-Dies”, because no matter what happens, what job he takes on, how badly he’s hurt ... he just keeps getting back up. One time he came home with blood running from the crown of his head and flowing into his boots, but rather than let anyone take him to a hospital, Hidan took out a needle and made Kakuzu stitch the gash on his forehead. No painkillers, no alcohol, not even any flinching. Anyone else would have been substantially messed up after such a heavy blood loss ... but Hidan was just fine, in fact laughing and talking like nothing was amiss. He’s extremely foul-mouthed and has a thing for telling dirty jokes, but today, on his date with Konan, he’s making a great effort to restrain himself. Hidan wants very badly to put his arm around her waist as he walks along beside her, but resists as he knows Nagato will tear him a new asshole if he makes her in anyway uncomfortable. He’s at a loss for what to talk to her about, so he simply asks her how she’s feeling. There’s a pause, and she goes “I’m not really sure. I lost my mood ring yesterday.” He bursts out laughing, so hard that she blushes. “That’s pretty damn funny, lady.”Konan tilts her head in surprise; nobody had ever complimented her humor before. In fact she’s usually told that the few jokes she does make are very flat, or somewhat dark. Fast forward to the cafe, where Konan is surprised again that Hidan asks for a table that’s “quiet”, and pulls out her chair for her. The waiter comes back and Konan is amused by the amount of food that Hidan is ordering. When it’s her turn, her mind is a blank, so she just orders the last thing he said (which was spaghetti and meatballs). “That’s all?” he asks, as the waiter collects their menus and leaves. “No wonder you’re so slender.” She asks him how in the world HE’S so skinny when he eats so much, and he explains he has a fast metabolism, like his mother. Konan is interested; she’s never heard him mention his family before. As if reading her mind, he says, “Me and those guys just don’t get along. They wrote me off as a brain-dead bastard when I said I wasn’t goin’ to college.” “College isn’t everything, you know. People have to do what’s right for them.” Hidan agrees, and begins telling her his much he enjoys working for Nagato, and the type of jobs they do. It’s interesting; when you got him away from the others and in a calm, quiet setting, Hidan was ... normal. Normal and actually very charming. And although he never says it out-loud, Konan gets the strong impression that Hidan has come to consider the rest of the group as being a surrogate family. Then the food comes out and Hidan turns into a different creature altogether. He eats much like an animal, viciously and indiscriminately. But instead of being disgusted by this, Konan ... feels relaxed. There’s an unspoken feeling here, that with Hidan, she can let go and be herself. She doesn’t have to worry about looking pretty, or eating daintily, or acting “like a lady”. In fact Hidan orders them ice cream sundaes for dessert,

then challenges her to see who can eat theirs the fastest. Hidan ends up winning, but they end up with a horrible case of brain-freeze that leaves them both paralyzed for several moments ... yet laughing pretty hard. Even though Konan ate far less than Hidan, she feels quite stuffed nonetheless and mentions this to Hidan, who immediately offers to give her a piggy back ride home. She hesitates to accept; it’s a ways home and Konan feels she’s not the lightest woman in the world (especially after a big meal). But he insists, and she lets him hoist her into his back and trot back to the house with her. They laugh and joke the entire way, with Hidan making numerous comments about how light she is and how good she smells. “That’s one thing about living in a house full of guys for so long; I got so used to the smell of ass and dirty socks and Doritos that I forgot there’s people in the world who know what the fuck deodorant and shampoo are!” Konan laughs so hard at this that she slips off Hidan’s back and lands on her knees in the grass, holding her stomach and howling. Seeing that she likely won’t calm down anytime soon to grab onto his back again, Hidan picks her up and carries her in his arms the last two blocks home. He sets her down gently outside the front door, telling her how much fun she is to be with, when she throws her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard,” she says as she lets him go, wiping tears from her eyes. “Thank you.” He hesitates, then leans down and very gently kisses her cheek, before telling her that she’s welcome to hang out with him anytime, because “I’ve got a million more jokes, doll, and I’ll gladly tell ‘em all to you.” He walks her to her room and chances giving her another kiss, this one on the forehead, before bidding her Goodnight.

Obito

“Can I ask you a question?” “Yeah?” “When we’re at home, when we’re around the others, why do you wear that thing?” It’s the next day, and Konan is at a bar (ironically, the same one that Hidan wanted to take her to the previous day) with Obito. Out of everyone in the house, Obito is the one that strikes Konan as being the most mysterious. To begin with, the day she met him he was wearing a unique orange half-mask over his face ... and never took it off. She questioned Nagato about it but he seemed reluctant to speak on Obito’s unique fashion choice, and none of the others acted as though there was anything strange about it. He joined he others for dinner each night but seemed to prefer sweets to actual food, and he was quiet. Nagato told Konan that Obito was more or less his right hand man within the organization, and had helped him recruit the other members. Obito never spoke to her unless she spoke first ... so naturally she had been surprised when he approached her as she was coming out of her room, and asked if she minded joining him for “a quick drink”. The bar, like everything else, was in walking distance of the house; but Obito took her on the back of his motorcycle. It was a short ride but an exhilarating one ... and it got even more exciting when, upon entering the bar, Obito glanced around, saw there weren’t many people, and took off his mask. He found them a seat at a table near the back, and ordered them both a glass of wine. Konan had tried her hardest not to stare at his face ((which was difficult; aside from a few jagged scars on the left side and what looked like a damaged eye, he was quite handsome)) but eventually he caught her looking, hence giving her the bravery to pose her question. Obito paused for several moments, as if contemplating what to say. “Why do women wear makeup? Why do people dye their hair or get piercings or tattoos or wear crazy clothes? It’s because they have something about themselves that they don’t like, so they try to cover it up. I don’t like my face. I haven’t since my accident.” Konan blinks, genuinely surprised at Obito’s answer. She chances it to ask “Accident?” He gave her a wry smile and ordered himself a shot of whiskey (and her an ice tea) saying he needed something stronger to tell her about it. “When I was a kid, my parents liked to go rock climbing. Took me with to National parks every summer. One year my dad got drunk and took me and my mom up a dangerous path. He pulled on a rock the wrong way, and it came out of the mountain, along with a bunch more, and crashed down on us. Really long fall; mom and dad killed right away. But me ... I guess the devil decided he wasn’t done with me. A boulder crushed this entire side of my body, and my face got fucked ... but I lived. Had to go to a lot of physical therapy. Also had to go live with my uncle Madara — that guy’s a piece of work. But anyway I lived and here we are, right?” Konan is quiet for a long while, watching the ice cubes float around in her glass. “I like you like this,” she finally says, and this time she’s looking him directly in the face. “I understand if you want to be someone different, or like, if you feel like your mask makes you different, but, if you ever want to be THIS Obito ... please come to my room. We can talk, we can listen to music and eat junk and watch movies and talk about books and —“ Obito interrupts her by putting both arms around her, squeezing her warmly. “Thank you, Konan.” They stay for another few hours, and Konan is pleasantly surprised to find that Obito without the mask, Obito away from the house ... is fantastic. He teaches her how to play pool, he keeps her laughing with countless stories about growing up with his “crazy uncle”. At one point in the night he convinces her to join him at the karaoke machine on the stage, and the two sing duets of Disney songs (to the thunderous applause of the few people at the bar).The ride back home is mostly quiet, him driving slower this time and her holding on to him, each filled with their own thoughts. Before they get to the front

door, Konan lifts Obito’s mask just the slightest bit, and kisses his cheek. “This is the best night I’ve had in a long, long time. I appreciate you letting me get to know you.” He smiles and blushes, then slides the mask back into place before opening the front door. Some of the others are in the living room, and Obito quietly greets them before heading to his room. Konan was awed by how effortless the switch from animated and somewhat goofy to reserved and calm seemed to be for him ... and found herself wondering if any of the others were putting on a facade as well. She takes her shower and goes to her room, intending to go to sleep early, but after about an hour of restlessly tossing back and forth, she gives it up. She turns her light back on and picks up the remote to her tv, thinking that maybe a good, boring show will put her to sleep. But before she can find anything, a knock comes on the door. She goes to open it, and is surprised to find Obito standing there. “I saw the light underneath your door. Can I come in?” She takes him by the arm and pulls him inside. Once inside, he slides off his mask and, looking around, finds a seat for himself on one of Konan’s chairs. He opens up his jacket to reveal a small book, worn and obviously read many times. “I saw you reading this last week. I remember you telling Sasori that you finished it. I was wondering; what did you think in Chapter seven, when —“

[giftofwonder]

The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader) - Part Four

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and for all of your support! Please let me know what you think, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list just let me know.

WARNINGS: Nothing graphic, just mentions of sex, murder and dismemberment.

TAGLIST: @mikasackrmann @missalicebaskerville @liitlesushi @bonemarroww @jamaisvusbitch @winchescumberholland @mira-mirach @babayaga67 @iiashleysykes

Much of your time left in the afterlife was spent the same, with you wrapped around Dabi or the both of you lounging in his bed.

The fear of knowing you would likely never see him again had mixed with the longing for both the pleasure and the feelings that he drew from you.

You felt so strongly for him, it was new and unfamiliar, but you welcomed it. You had never felt so warm, so safe and peaceful, as you did in his arms. You feared you were addicted to it, already you wondered how you could go the rest of your life without him. The thought had crossed your mind many times that you should stop and push him away, that you were getting yourself tangled too deeply into a mess, but those thoughts were fleeting, weak in comparison to the desire you felt. It was beyond something physical, you craved him in his entirety.

You wondered if you added your name to the walls of his tomb, would it bring you back to him when you died? Perhaps you would go the rest of your life without him, but then could be together again in the end. A bittersweet idea.

Your thoughts were cut short as Dabi looked over, lifting himself slightly from his relaxed position in bed.

“Is there anything else you want to know before I ask you for the second favor?”

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah, actually, why is your tomb so different? I’ve never heard of any set up like how yours is.”

“The tomb where you first entered was by my design, what I requested to have done. I had thought the burial chamber was a standard one. It was only after I died that I realized they had made a second tomb. I don’t know who crafted it, someone who must have held a grudge against me.” He answered.

“What was the point of it?” You asked.

“To trap me. Normally, you can pass through the false door of your tomb. When someone comes, it allows you to enter inside and visit with them, but because they made the second tomb, I can’t leave from it. That’s what all of those marking are along the cut outs in the wall. Seals, to bind me to the room.” He said.

“It’s also a way to spite me. The false door was carved in my image, with my scars. If not for that, I’d have looked as I did before.” His tone was growing bitter.

“What if we break the seals?” You asked hopefully.

“We could try, but I doubt it would work. Those seals were placed with strong magic. They have some type of enchantment on them. Whatever spell they used, I’m sure it won’t be easy to break.” Dabi said with a sigh.

You frowned at that. You wanted so badly to help him.

“Don’t worry, princess. When you do my second favor, it’ll be better than breaking the seals.” He grinned.

You rolled into him, resting your head on his shoulder as your arm relaxed across his stomach and chest.

“What do I need to do?” You asked, turning your head to place a kiss on his skin.

“After i was killed, I was mummified by my men. Before I could be buried properly, someone took my remains to a witch, probably the same one who carved the seals in the tomb.” He started and you looked up at him, listening intently.

“You’re familiar with the story of Osiris and Isis?” He asked and you nodded.

__________________________________________

Osiris’s Myth:

The god Osiris was brought to Egypt to be king. He was a good ruler who was both loved and respected by all. His brother, Seth, was jealous of his power and made a plan to kill his brother and take over the throne.

Seth snuck into Osiris and Isis’s bedroom one night and measured Osiris while he slept. He had a chest crafted with his brothers measurements.

Seth then threw a party, with Osiris as the guest of honor. They played a game at Seth’s request, whoever could fit into the chest perfectly would get to keep it.

After Seth’s friends all took their turns, they finally convinced Osiris to try. He climbed in and was a perfect fit. The lid was slammed shut and sealed, and then the chest was dumped into the Nile river, knowing Osiris wouldn’t be able to survive.

Isis heard of her husbands death and rushed to find the chest. Finally, after a few days of searching, she found it and pulled Osiris from it. She hid his body in the tall river grass, as she didn’t want Seth to find the body before she could do the proper rituals so that Osiris could pass on to the afterlife.

Late that night, Seth returned to the river. He found Osiris’s body in the grass and was furious. He cut Osiris into fourteen pieces and hurled them all across Egypt to make sure they were never found.

The next morning, Isis, along with her sister and friends, returned to the river to perform the rituals only to find her husband’s body gone.

Isis transformed into a huge bird and flew over Egypt, using her sharp eyesight to find all of his body parts.

With the help of Nepthys, Thoth and Anubis, she was able to perform a miracle. They sewed all of the pieces together and wrapped Osiris head to toe in strips of linen, creating a mummy.

On the night of the full moon, Isis used powerful magic to bring him back to life. He told her he couldn’t stay long and that he needed to travel to the world of the dead, where he would become King of the Afterlife.

Osiris told Isis not to worry as she was pregnant and would have a son who would get revenge on Seth.

Their son Horus was born, and kept hidden away from his uncle until he came of age. Once Horus did, he and Seth fought. Horus won and took the throne, while Seth was banished from Egypt forever.

__________________________________________

“When I died, the rituals were completed so I was able to pass onto the Afterlife, but my body was cut up and hidden, the same as they did to Osiris. I need you to be my Isis.” Dabi said, his tone almost desperate as he looked deep into your eyes.

“You need me to find all of your body parts? What do I do with them?” You asked perplexed.

“Bring them to me, leave them here in the tomb.” His warm breath fanned your face.

“How will I find them?” You asked.

“I will help guide you. I know I was cut into six pieces, and I know the general locations. Beyond that, you must find them yourself.” He told you, and you nodded hesitantly.

“What if I can’t find them?” You whispered.

“That’s not an option, doll.” He said, stroking your hair.

You sighed and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I’ll do my best. But, when you have them, what will happen?”

“That’s a surprise, but trust me, it’s a good one.” Dabi said with confidence. He sounded happy, maybe even a bit smug. You didn’t question him, though. You were far too interested to see what would come of it. He was a man of many mysteries, after all. He had shown you things you never thought possible, and they had all turned out well for you. You really did trust him.

At the end of the day, Dabi took you back to the tomb. What you wore when you first arrived had been washed in the river a few days prior, and already you were missing the clothing he had given you that mirrored his own.

You both stepped through the portal and while nothing had visibly changed, you knew you were back in the world of the living. Dabi had told you the general locations for where to find his body and you had written them down, the note folded in your pocket.

You turned to face him, sadness was radiating from you. He chuckled and pulled you close to him, his lips meeting yours.

“Go home and rest. You can start the search tomorrow and I’ll be here waiting for you to return.” He said against your lips.

You kissed him deeper, trying to savor the feeling of him in case things didn’t go as planned. You were worried that once you left the tomb, he would be gone, out of your grasp for good. In the two weeks you had spent with him, you feared that you may have fallen in love.

Reluctantly, you parted from him and said goodbye, sparing him a final glance as you made your way up and out of the tomb.

__________________________________________

The next morning, you woke early and went to make your case to get an extension on the project. You told them of the second tomb, of the foreign inscriptions inside and the strange contrast between both chambers. You told them how it was unlike anything you had ever seen.

They agreed, their interest peaked, and you were graced with funding to last another season. They said you should receive it in about a week, and you thanked them and left.

You met with your team, explaining what you had found and the exciting news of the project continuing. They all cheered loudly as you told them the work would resume in a weeks time. You gave them all a share of the last of the funding and told them to take the week to spend with their families.

They thanked you and left to celebrate. You kept the last of the funding, and set out to complete your favor.

You went to a stand you used rather frequently and rented a dune buggy to take you across the desert. You loaded your tools in the back and started on your way. You had checked the note often, although it felt like more of a riddle than a guide. You spent hours in the hot sun searching, and though your skin was covered, the heat was unforgiving.

The first three locations were easier to find than you thought they would be. Two of them were caves, half buried with sand, but still noticeable enough for you to spot from a distance. Both of them had been rather deep, one was built into a large area of rocks and sand while the other was much closer to the city, half hidden in a thicket of shrubs and trees. In both caves, you had found the limbs in the back, though it had taken a great deal of time moving rocks and looking for things out of place.

The other was hidden in the crevice of a cliff side. You had managed to climb up, and thankfully keep your footing, to dig it out from where it was hidden between the sharp rocks. The passage it was slipped in was so narrow that only your arm would fit inside. It had taken you six trips up the cliff to find it as you searched for rocks in a “triangular layout” as Dabi had described. It all had honestly looked the same to you, but you were just glad you managed to find it. With it, you found a small bag, and inside were a few small bones and gems. You furrowed your brow, but took it with you nonetheless.

You circled back and left them in Dabi’s tomb, unaware of the evil grin that warped his face in the chamber below.

The first three pieces had taken you two days total to find. The last three took you until the end of the week, but finally you had collected them all. His note had sent you on a wild goose chase around the desert, digging though old dried out river beds and dunes, and one had been buried under a tree that grew near the Nile river. You had spent a day and a half inspecting every tree for carvings that matched the ones in Dabi’s tomb.

You were so tired, feeling like you could collapse, and your muscles burned from all of the labor you’d endured. You were glad to help Dabi and eager to see the surprise, but at this point you really were just glad you were done. In the frustration of your scavenger hunt you had briefly debated giving up.

You dropped off the last of the limbs and then went to return the vehicle. Once you were done, you came back to the tomb and went inside, carefully taking the body parts down to Dabi.

You found him inside, waiting for you as you brought down the last piece.

You had laid them out properly, and as you stood, Dabi pulled you to him, kissing you with a bruising pressure. You moaned into his mouth and he pulled back, his eyes soft as they trailed over your face.

“You asked me before if I regretted never marrying.” He stated, and you nodded.

“I don’t. Fate brought you to me, I was meant to have you.” He said while brushing his lips against yours, his vibrant eyes glowing in the dim light.

You pushed forward, pulling him into another kiss, his words repeating in your mind as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You thought it was rather morbid, the idea of sex while his corpse was so close, but he took you there in the tomb and you didn’t protest. You were smitten with him, hopelessly in love with a ghost. But the way he felt on your skin, inside of you, it was perfect, and you couldn’t blame yourself. You knew in the back of your mind that even if you could do it all over, you would still find yourself back at this very point.

When you were finished, you dressed quickly, trying to compose yourself. Dabi told you to go up and wait for the surprise that he had promised. You did as he asked, climbing up to go sit by the entrance of the tomb, staring at the carvings on the walls, waiting for him to call you back down.

Eventually, sleep took you as you rested against the door that had been put up to secure the tomb.

You awoke to the feeling of a hand grabbing your thighs and parting them quickly, and a heat warming the front of your body. Your eyes opened to see Dabi kneeling in front of you, a wide grin on his face.

“How are you here?” You gasped excitedly, your hands running along his body as if to make sure he was really there.

“It worked! I’m alive!” He laughed, cupping your cheeks and kissing you. It felt the same as his spirit’s touch, and yet it wasn’t. It was different in a way you couldn’t quite place, but it felt just as good. Perhaps even better. Your hand buried itself in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Careful, princess. I have half a mind to take you again right here.”

You sighed, a faint “please” leaving your lips. When the haze cleared from your mind, you trailed your fingers gently down his face.

“You’re really alive?” You wondered aloud, and he nodded.

“How?”

“I have...an agreement with the Gods. That’s all I can say.” He told you, then sat back, looking you over before adding, “I have another favor to ask you.”

“So needy.” You whispered with a grin and he smiled.

“I need clothes...from your time.” He said.

It was only then that you realized his state of undress. You supposed you didn’t notice at first because the sight of him naked had become a regular occurrence to you in your time spent with him.

You nodded, telling him to wait here and that you would find him something. You peeled yourself away from him and left the tomb, heading to the city to find a clothing shop.

You browsed around, searching for things that looked like they could fit his thinner frame as you had no idea what size he wore. You found a couple pairs of sweat pants, some sandals, a few tee shirts, a hoodie and a jacket.

Figuring it would be good enough, you paid and left quickly, hurrying back with your purchases and found Dabi right where you had left him. He thanked you while quickly putting on the clothes, then left the tomb with you, hand in hand.

You led him from the desert to the edge of the city, pointing things out along the empty streets as you went. His eyes were wide in amazement as he tried to absorb everything.

You both boarded a bus that would take you to the area where you were living. Dabi’s eyes lit up in wonder at the world around him, but he kept his questions to himself. This world was unfamiliar to him, and he would rather ask you his building list of questions in private where it was safe. He didn’t want to arouse suspicion.

When the bus stopped, you both exited and headed a few blocks over to the place you called home. Once the door was shut behind you, Dabi took off around the small apartment investigating everything, and you laughed, his behavior reminding you of a child.

He asked many questions, and you found it extremely cute when he was in awe of the refrigerator.

Your apartment was in an extended stay hotel. It was cheaper than the actual apartments in the area, and you didn’t have to pay for things like internet or utilities. Plus there was no lease, you just paid month to month.

It was nice enough there, and as you weren’t home much, it was really all you needed. It wasn’t in the most beautiful condition, and the area it was located in was questionable, but you figured it kept the cost low so it was a compromise you were willing to make.

You suggested a bath to Dabi, who happily obliged. You ran the shower first to rinse yourself off. Dabi tried to get in with you, but you stopped him, afraid of the water hurting where his scars and staples met skin.

Once you finished rinsing, you turned the shower head toward the wall and beckoned Dabi in. You got a cloth damp and carefully rinsed him with it. He watched you, an unknown feeling swelling in his chest.

Dabi truly was fond of you, and he was honest when he said you were meant for him. You were his. Watching you rinse him so delicately, the kindness you offered, only solidified his feelings. Love was not something he had received, and if he was being truthful, he wasn’t even sure if it was a concept he could ever fully grasp, but he knew what he wanted.

He wanted you. Marriage hadn’t been a priority before, but things were different now that he had a second chance at life. He knew you would be his wife. His thoughts continued as you washed him. He imagined your stomach swollen, heavy with his child, and he felt his arousal grow and almost groaned at the thought.

You told Dabi to stand back for a moment, and you took the shower head down and rinsed the bottom of the tub to clear away the excess dirt that had gathered there. Then you started the bath, Dabi sitting against the back of the tub and you scooting between his spread legs, relaxing against his chest.

Dabi had plans, things he needed to do now that he was back in the world of the living, but he could almost forget them with you here pressed against him. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling of peace that you gave to him.

[flooffybits]

Carry On

Idol: Handong (Dreamcatcher)

You were once forced to continue with the absence of one member. Now the girls are once again forced to face the same predicament.

Warning: angst and character death

Seeing the amount of people that were commenting on their performance, Minji sucked in a deep breath while she gripped the microphone tightly in her hands. “Hi everyone.” Her voice, although loud, carried the weight of the news that they were carrying for the past week.

“I know you’re all concerned. We had to perform as seven before, and now we have to do it again.” Her voice cracks at the end of her sentence and she sees Gahyeon from the corner of her eyes, head cast down and fighting back tears while Yubin held her by the shoulders. Yoohyeon is beside Handong, gripping her hand while the other was used to wipe the tears that managed to escape her eyes.

Bora and Siyeon stand on either side of her, both with somber expressions on their faces and she can tell that if they tried talking, they would be no different from her.

But she was the leader and she had to do this.

“Y/n is... she will no longer be present.” She paused, feeling the lump forming in her throat while Siyeon gently squeezed her arm. “We told you that the concert was delayed due to personal reasons.”

Bora squeezed her friend’s hand before deciding to take over, knowing that Minji was not able to properly speak out on her own. “The concert was supposed to be canceled, but at Y/n’s request, we pulled through.” She breathed out while lightly dabbing at the corner of her eyes. “We were all fighting for something we weren’t sure we could win but in the end...”

“Our Y/n has been battling cancer for two years and, four days ago, it seemed that she’s finally taken a break.” She finally admits and it hurt so much more to say it out loud.

The rest of the girls were doing their best to hold back from crying, but the moment the screen behind them popped up, they had to brace themselves with the video you had prepared before your departure.

“Hello!”

Seeing your smiling face had caused majority of them to break down into tears. Yoohyeon held Handong close to her and rubbed her back as she felt her tears falling on her neck.

“I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” You say with a light smile. They could see you in the hospital, but even with that, you looked as free as always despite how thin and pale you’ve gotten.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen our InSomnia’s, but I’m incredibly happy to see even some of you during our performance for the Drive-in, and that I was able to perform with all of Dreamcatcher.” You say with a content look on your face.

They could see you looking somewhere off camera and they wonder if this was shot during one of their visits.

“I know that a lot of you have been disappointed with how badly my performances have been, and I admit, that was my fault. I was hoping that I could show you all the best performance I could give.” You can’t help but sigh regretfully before shaking your head and pulling the smile back on your face.

“I know that this may be sad news for you, but please, never let this be a reason to lose your smile or happiness. You’ve shown us love and support from the very beginning, and all I ask is that you continue to give Dreamcatcher that same amount of love even in my absence.”

Your eyes shift again and your smile becomes a bit softer before you’re speaking again. “Jiu unnie, Sua unnie, Siyeon unnie, Dong unnie, Yoohyeon, Dami, Gahyeon, I’m sorry for having to leave you so soon like this, but I hope you know how much I love and cherish each of you. Being a part of Dreamcatcher has to be one of the best gifts I’ve ever received and everyday I thank the universe for blessing me with seven wonderful girls as my members, my friends, and my family.” A lone tear falls down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away.

“Keep aiming high and keep fighting. I know you can do it.” You finally say before waving your hand. “This is Dreamcatcher’s Y/n. ‘Til we meet again!”

When the screen goes blank, the rest of your members are back in their line, all of them wiping their tears away, though Handong and Gahyeon were covering their faces after getting to see the whole video you’ve left for them.

“Y/n never stopped fighting. Even when people were being mean to her, she always told us ‘it’s okay, they don’t know. Just forgive them’.” Siyeon spoke up despite her trembling voice. “She didn’t want us to focus on the bad things people said.”

“Remember what Boca is about, she would tell us.” Yubin said while she tried to blink away tears, but just this once, she couldn’t seem to stop them from falling. “Y/n unnie has always been very thoughtful. She’s caring to those around her and I think that was what made her so unique. It didn’t matter who you were because she’s able to ease herself into your life without issue and makes things seem lighter.”

“Unnie is-” Gahyeon tried to say something, but she struggled to get words out without sobbing. “She’s one of a kind and I don’t think there will ever be anyone who can replace her.” She managed out, failing to keep her own tears at bay.

“Y/n has been keeping everyone together. She knows when someone is feeling down and she won’t hesitate to be a shoulder to lean on or a listening ear. She acted as though she was our personal therapist sometimes.” Bora shared with a little smile when she recalls the few times you decided to stay up with her when she wasn’t feeling her best.

“It worried me when she would do that. I didn’t want her to take all the burden to herself and we sat down to talk. I think that was the first time we really saw Y/n cry. She told us she was used to comforting others, but never the other way around.” Minji explained as she shifted her microphone to her other hand. “Y/n has been a joy to the people she’s come across and I know that there’s no forgetting someone like her.”

“Unnie always says she wants to leave a mark in people’s lives. She said it was her dream to inspire others.” Yoohyeon said in a small voice. “I think my only regret would be... not telling her that she was able to achieve that dream.” She says while shutting her eyes. “Everywhere we went, people remembered her and called out her name. She’s met thousands of people and I’ve seen some people online leaving comments about her, sharing stories from when she was still in school or those she befriended in her hometown.”

“Her patience was so long and I don’t know how she could stand all of us, but when I saw the good things people said about her, it was no doubt in my mind that unnie really was Dreamcatcher’s angel.”

There was a bit of laughter to lighten up the mood, but when Yoohyeon turned to the person next to her, she gave her a small squeeze as an act of encouragement, telling her that it was going to be alright.

“Even though Y/n said she would no longer be part of Dreamcatcher, I don’t believe it. For me, we will always be an eight member group and she’ll always be there as long as our memories together last. Dreamcatcher won’t be here without all of us and I think that’s what we have to keep in mind. Y/n wanted all of us to keep fighting, and I’ll be sure to do my best to keep her dream alive.” Handong managed to say while looking at the camera and the rest of the girls smiled at her.

When the concert wraps up, the girls are all consoled by their staff, their managers, and even the director as they thanked everyone for helping them make the event and for looking after them throughout their career.

Many have expressed their condolences and reached out to the girls for your passing, and their families have sent yours messages as soon as they found out.

Your parents were able to fly all the way to South Korea, deciding that it would be best to have you buried there just so you would still be close with your members and all the people who were close to you. Since they believed that it may have been something you would want, they had no troubles coming to the decision.

The director of HappyFace also decided that it was appropriate to give everyone a much needed break after finally letting the news out and the girls were all able to rest and absorb everything that happened.

“Can I come in?” Handong looked at the door to see Yubin poking her head through the door and then beckoned the younger girl inside. “You haven’t left the room today and we were hoping that you weren’t shutting yourself out.” The rapper explained as she took a seat and Handong sighed softly while shaking her head.

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” She muttered as her hand gently ran over the letter you had left for her. Yubin took a quick glance at it and hugged the older woman. “Are you still upset?” She asks softly and Handong pats the top of her head while staring at your familiar handwriting.

“At first, I was. None of you told me when I should have been there for her. It took her passing out in front of me for you all to finally say that she was sick.” She mumbled before she placed the letter on one of her pillows.

She could remember the night well. After your first performance since her return, she saw your body slumped up against the wall and your manager assisting you just to bring you back to your waiting area.

“She was so stubborn.” She said with a laugh, tears building in her eyes as she recalled what you told her as soon as she found out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The blue haired woman demanded when you were finally left alone with all of your members and they had explained to her what happened in her absence.

You gave her a slight shake of your head, smiling despite the pain that had washed over you. “I know that I won’t be able to stick around long enough so I wanted to at least perform as a complete group one last time.” You rasped out and Handong felt her tears finally break free while shaking her head and gripping your hand.

“Don’t say that. You’re going to be fine!” But the smile you showed her was proof enough that you were telling the truth. Minji explaining what the doctor told them during your last check up only further proved that you would not be reaching winter.

But they didn’t think you would be gone so soon.

“I know you’re upset, but don’t blame the others. They only found out a couple months after you left and I begged them not to tell you because I knew you would come back home.” You reason. “I couldn’t take away your opportunity of reaching your dreams.”

“Even then, she thought of you.” Yubin mumbled and Handong nodded her head. “But she was right. If you had told me while I was in China, I would have dropped out of the competition.” She admits while thinking back on everything.

“Still, I wish I had noticed sooner. I was worried because every time we were on call, she looked thinner and I thought she hadn’t been taking care of herself.” She tells the younger woman and Yubin nodded in agreement. “It was hard keeping it a secret from you. We wanted to tell you, but Jiu unnie reminded us to respect Y/n unnie’s decision.”

“I appreciate that you were all there for her. I know I couldn’t physically be there, but it’s assuring to know that she wasn’t alone.”

“In the end, you were still there for her when she needed you the most. I think that was all that mattered to her.” Handong nodded her head while inhaling deeply. “She’s okay now, she doesn’t have to be in pain and no one is going to hurt her.”

Right after their short break, the girls pushed through with finishing the third part of Dystopia. Your message to each of them had been their source of motivation and the girls were driven in showing you that they would be okay, even if you weren’t physically there.

Day and night, the practices went on. They recorded the songs and rehearsed them again and again, each girl participating in all parts may it be the songs or the choreography. Yoohyeon had even given her own suggestions during the filming of the music videos.

January of 2021, HappyFace was able to announce the group’s comeback and all seven of them were feeling both excitement and anxiety as they waited for the video to finally drop up until promotions rolled in.

Being nominated once more for winning an award, all of them did their best, having each performance full with more energy than the last with you in mind. While they weren’t too confident with winning, they were more focused on sending out their message that they are heard and that they are here to stay despite all the downs.

“And the winner is...” Watching as the numbers flashed on screen, everyone watched with bated breaths before they finally stopped and their picture popped on screen while confetti exploded everywhere. “Congratulations to Dreamcatcher!”

Hearing the announcement was a shock to all of them and they looked to one another, slowly becoming teary eyed as Minji shakily accepted the trophy and microphone. Turning her head, she saw all of her members in tears, all overwhelmed by finally achieving the one constant wish you’ve all been holding on to.

“Thank you so much. We...” It looked like none of them were capable of saying anything, each girl holding on to one another as Minji tried to compose herself. “We’re very thankful to our staff, our director, our InSomnias and our family. Thank you for your never ending support.” She sobbed out before looking back to her friends. “Most of all, we would like to thank our shining star for being our reason for pushing forward and for believing in all of us.”

“Y/n-ah, we finally did it!” Handong said into the mic, smiling despite her tears as all of them huddled together, taking one another’s hand while setting the trophy by their feet and then bowing deeply.

In the space between Handong and Siyeon, they made sure to leave a bit open where you could most definitely fit despite their locked hands and various other artists who watched the display and even fans could feel their own eyes fill with tears.

[calwrites]

The Illusion (part 1)

Summary: Reader has tried her hardest to keep the rest of the BAU from learning about her past. When her father dies and she has to go home, her secrets might come out.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Umbrella Academy!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4.8k

This is kind of a crazy, stupid idea, but I’ve read a couple fics where the reader is like an Avenger or a vampire and the team finds out and I think they’re really fun, so I decided to give it a try. Part 2 will come out in a few days probably. I’m trying to decide how far into the show to go.

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

“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I am so ready to go home,” Derek groaned. The rest of the team echoed his sentiment as you all followed him into the small town police station that you had been in way too much this past week. You were more than ready to get back to your apartment and not talk to anyone until Monday.

In the back of your mind, you knew that Allison’s new movie had just come out. She had probably been getting ready for the premiere as you were tackling the unsub. Still, you should probably see the movie this weekend, while you had some free time without a case. Even though the premise didn’t exactly entice you, you should at least see it so you could text her about how good she was in it. It had been too long since you had talked to your sister. A few texts after the news of her divorce broke and some empty promises to hang out soon, but you hadn’t had a real conversation with her in over a year. It had been a lot longer since you had talked to the rest of your siblings, with the exception of Diego, who would appear occasionally to ask for your help in whatever “case” he was working. You had learned that it was easier to help him find whatever information he was looking for and then send him on his way. He was less likely to break into your apartment or try to hack your work computer that way.

Still, it would be nice to see Allison again, even if it was just on a screen. Your eyes flicked to Spencer before you could stop them. He invited you to so many niche events that maybe he wouldn’t question why you wanted to see the new Allison Hargreeves movie so badly or why you invited him. 

You weren’t really sure if you two had been on any actual dates or if you were just two friends hanging out. He always had some reason why he was inviting you specifically. You knew Russian, so he wouldn’t have to translate the movie for you. You knew Roman comedy, so the two of you could discuss whether the performance was historically accurate. You knew Japanese art history, so you could carry out a conversation about the new exhibit. None of those reasons stopped the crush that you had on Spencer Reid.

But you couldn’t say anything. Besides the fact that he was your coworker, you couldn’t risk him getting dragged into any family drama. None of your coworkers knew about your family. As far as anyone was aware, you didn’t have a good relationship with your family, and you certainly didn’t like to talk about them. They probably had their own theories about why. What had your family done that made you not flinch when cases took a turn like this last one did? Why weren’t you surprised that a father could kill his child and then pretend to be the picture of grief? Because as far as you were concerned, your father had killed two of his children and had killed everything good about the other six.

These thoughts ran silently through your head as you helped the team pack everything up. Soon, you would be on the jet, heading back to DC. And tomorrow, you would see your sister’s new movie. Hopefully, with Spencer.

A noise from the TV in the corner of the station shook you out of your thoughts. Breaking news, apparently. You turned back to the papers you were organizing, prepared to ignore whatever celebrity cheating scandal they were about to break.

“...the death of the world’s most eccentric and reclusive billionaire…”

The words made your breath catch. There was only one person they could be talking about. You made yourself look at the TV. Staring back at you was your father’s face. Or a picture of it, at least. Though really, you saw pictures of your father more than you had ever actually seen your father in person.

“Wow.” JJ’s voice beside you startled you a bit. “Reginald Hargreeves. I haven’t thought about him in forever.”

“I can’t believe he died. I kind of assumed he would live forever,” Emily said from your other side. It seemed the TV had caught everyone’s attention. “I mean, he was a crazy billionaire. Aren’t they supposed to find the secret to eternal life?”

“Y/N, are you okay?” You met Spencer’s kind eyes, but couldn’t find any words for a few seconds. Finally, you managed a smile.

“Of course. It’s just kind of shocking, I guess. Why?”

“You’re rubbing your arm. You do that when you’re upset.” You hadn’t even realized that you were doing it again. Had you always done it? You must have, if Spencer had noticed.

You could still remember the first time. It was a few days after you had gotten the stupid tattoo. Your skin was still sore, but you had scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to get the tattoo to wash off, until your skin was red and raw. You knew it wouldn’t wash off. You knew, yet you tried constantly. Even now, apparently. Now your father was dead and you would still have that stupid tattoo that marked you as one of his. As one of the Umbrella Academy kids. A freak. A soldier. A pawn.

Shaking your head a bit to clear your thoughts, you looked at Spencer. “I think I’m just ready to be home. It’s been a long case, and this is weird news to get at the end of it. I’m just tired.”

You weren’t sure if Spencer believed you, but he nodded and didn’t question it. The team continued packing up in silence. It wasn’t until you were back on the jet that anyone brought it up again.

“So who was your favorite Umbrella Academy kid?” Derek asked, breaking the silence of the jet.

“Let me guess, yours was Spaceboy. You wanted to be super strong like him,” Emily teased lightly.

“For your information, my favorite was The Kraken. If he was that good with knives, imagine how good he would be throwing a football,” Derek corrected her, an easy smile on his face. How strange that everyone else could talk so casually about them. Of course, as far your team was concerned, they were just names and faces from TV or trading cards. They weren’t real people.

“Well I wanted to be The Rumor. Imagine how much easier sneaking out would be if you could just tell your parents to let you go.” Emily laughed as she said it. She didn’t understand how easy it was to get caught up in that power. You had seen it happen, though.

“I always liked The Illusion. I mean, making people see whatever you wanted them to would be so cool. Plus, reading minds would be helpful. It would make interrogations go a lot quicker.” It was only because of years of practice that you didn’t react to JJ’s words. The rest of the team began discussing how helpful it would be to be able to read an unsub’s mind. Not that you would know. You refused to do it.

“Project your consciousness into their brain. Know their thoughts. See what they see.”

Those words were some of your earliest memories. You would stand across from one of your siblings, reading their thoughts, seeing through their eyes, hearing through their ears, feeling what they felt, while your father kept repeating those words. That was before you had realized the true extent of your powers.

“Y/N, who was your favorite?” You blinked in surprise at Derek’s question. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“It changed, I guess.” It was a lame answer, but they accepted it and continued to argue amongst themselves about who was the best. It was the truth, though. You had always been close with Allison. That had never changed. The girls had to stick together. You guessed that you were probably close to Vanya when you were younger, but you saw her less and less as you got older and training began to occupy more of your time. You certainly weren’t close to her now. Not after what she had written about you.

You and Five had been close for a time. Both of you were desperate to prove to your father that you were more powerful than he thought. That you weren’t worthless just because you were on the lower half of the rankings. But then Five had disappeared, and you discovered a new aspect of your powers. 

It was because of Luther. A few weeks had passed since Five’s disappearance, and Luther, in a horrible attempt to “be a leader” and “boost morale” had said that Five brought the disappearance on himself because he hadn’t listened when Dad told him not to try time travelling. Something in you had snapped. You wanted Luther to experience what you had imagined Five did. Lost in darkness, unsure of where or when you were. Just an expanse of nothingness. 

You didn’t even know you were doing it at first, but Luther started to scream. It was over as quick as it began, thanks to the shock of Luther’s yell. He shivered as he explained that suddenly he couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything. It was like nothingness. Luther never quite forgave you for that, but you would never forget the joyful look in your father’s eyes as he realized that it was your doing. That not only could you tap into another person’s brain. You could manipulate it.

But it was harder to control. And after you accidentally left one criminal permanently blind, you were scared of your powers. Klaus and Ben understood how you felt, and the three of you became inseparable. Even after Ben died, that didn’t change. None of your siblings knew that Ben was still around, but you did. Klaus would let you use his eyes and ears so that you could talk to Ben. You missed them. Klaus would show up at your apartment sometimes, looking for money. You would get him to stay for a few days and take some time off work so you could watch him. The three of you would hang out like old times. But eventually you would have to go back to work, and you would come back to find an empty apartment and missing cash.

Despite the fact that Diego was the one you talked to most often now, you two hadn’t gotten along as children. There were rare times when you would click, but for the most part it was constant bickering. You two were too much alike. Quick to anger and slow to forgive.

You were stuck in these memories for the rest of the flight. No one said anything about your silence, but you did feel Spencer’s gaze on you often. You continued to rub your arm, like you would be able to rub off the tattoo that was always covered by your sleeve.

Most of the team left the office pretty quickly once you arrived back in DC. They dropped off whatever needed to be dropped off, then headed home. You lingered, wanting to catch Hotch alone. It would be easier if there was no one around to question what you needed to talk to him about.

“Do you want me to wait up, Y/N? We can take the metro back together.” You smiled genuinely at Spencer’s question. The two of you lived close to each other, so you often left together, either carpooling or taking the metro together.

“No, it’s fine. I need to talk to Hotch before I leave. I’ll see you soon.” Spencer gave you a small wave as he left. You watched him go, feeling strangely sad. How you wished you could walk out with him and ask if he wanted to go see a movie tomorrow night. It seemed so long ago when that had been your plan.

“Hotch.” You knocked on his door, waiting for his answer before opening the door. He was looking over paperwork, as usual, and barely looked up when you came in. “I was wondering if I could have a few days off.”

That made him look up, his eyes drilling into yours. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” No. “I just need a few days. I don’t want to be gone long. It’s my brother.” It was the same thing you said whenever Klaus or Diego showed up. You waited for Hotch’s answer, a carefully blank look on your face. There were always a few seconds where you would worry that he had somehow figured out who you were. That the fake last name and fake childhood records weren’t enough. But they always were.

“Of course, Y/L/N. Take as much time as you need. And we’re here if you need anything.”

“Thank you, sir.” You smiled at him as you walked out of his office, though smiling was the last thing you wanted to do. Now you had no reason not to go back home. You would have to try to mourn your father. You would have to see your siblings.

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

The house looked exactly like you remembered. Big and empty. The sound of the door echoed as it closed behind you. You wondered if anyone else was here yet. You heard the steps of someone walking towards the entryway. Allison, if you had to guess, based on the footsteps.

“Y/N!” You were right. The smile that lit up your face was mirrored on Allison’s as you two rushed to hug each other. “I’ve missed you.”

“You too. I hope you don’t mind if I don’t make it to your movie this weekend.” The two of you laughed for a few seconds before remembering why you were there. “How are you doing?”

Allison shrugged and shook her head slightly. “I already lost my husband and I’m not allowed to talk to my daughter. Now my father is dead. It’s been a rough year. How are you? How’s the genius you’re almost dating?”

“I’m good. We just finished a rough case yesterday, so I’m a little bummed that I don’t get to relax this weekend. Spencer is also good. The other week we went to a shadow puppet theater festival. He said that he was glad he had a friend who was willing to go to stuff like that with him, so I don’t think he’s interested in me.”

Allison linked her arm through yours. You walked slowly through the halls, not talking. It was comforting enough just being with someone who understood what you were going through. With Allison, actions spoke louder than words.

“Is anyone else here yet?”

“Diego and Luther. I haven’t seen Klaus or Vanya. Who knows if they’ll show up.”

“Klaus will show up if he knows about it and isn’t in rehab. I wouldn’t be surprised if Vanya doesn’t show. She’s already said a lot about Dad. I don’t know if she has anything more to add.”

“You’re still mad.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “You know how excluded Vanya was growing up. Can you blame her?”

“That wasn’t our fault. If she wanted to tell her story, that’s fine. If she wanted to drag Dad’s name through the mud, that’s fine. He more than deserved it. She didn’t need to write about the rest of us though. I mean, my coworkers read that book. One detail that’s too specific and they could have figured out who I am. ‘So desperate to prove that she’s worthy of being called a hero that even now she devotes her life to fighting crime.’ She might as well have told everyone that I’m an FBI agent. I’ve tried so hard to build a normal life, and she could have ruined it all.”

A car pulled up outside the house as we passed by a window. You paused, watching as Vanya got out of the back. “Speak of the devil.”

Allison gave you a disapproving look. “I’m going to go see her. Coming?”

“Definitely not. I’ll see you later.” You could hear the door open and Vanya’s voice come floating up. You continued walking until you found myself outside of your father’s room. You could hear the floor creaking inside. Too heavy to be Diego. Must be Luther.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you walked into the room. Luther was standing by your dad’s bed, inspecting it. He was a lot bigger than the last time you had seen him. And his mind seemed to be screaming about why. You tried not to read his thoughts, but Luther’s head had always been a bit of an open book.

“This is where he died. Where Pogo found him.” Didn’t really explain what he was doing, but you could guess.

“No sign of a struggle.” You walked over to a window. It was locked. All of the windows were locked. “No sign of forced entry. No way someone could sneak in without Pogo or Mom knowing.”

“She’s right.” Diego entered. His eyes widened when he saw Luther. “Oh, you got big, Luther. What’s the secret, huh? Protein shakes? Low carbs?”

“What do you want?”

Diego pulled some paper from his pocket, holding it out to Luther. “The autopsy report.” Of course, being Diego, he pulled it back when Luther reached for it. Anything to rile up Luther.

“And you have this why?”

“Well, that’s because I broke into the coroner’s office. And surprise, surprise, Dad’s death was normal.”

“Y/N, he’s not allowed to do that,” Luther said, pointing an accusing finger at Diego as he looked at you. “You’re an FBI agent. Arrest him.”

“I’m not arresting my brother at Dad’s funeral. And I’m not on the clock. Grow up, Luther.” You took the report from Luther, glancing over it quickly. Heart failure. Normal. No reason to question it. But Luther would, and you didn’t want to be there when he and Diego started to fight. “I’ll leave you boys to it. I’m going to see if I can find Klaus.”

You left quickly. Where would Klaus go if he was here? You rolled your eyes when you realized the obvious answer. Dad’s office. Not only would there be valuables there, it would also be like giving the old man a giant middle finger. Typical Klaus.

Sure enough, you could hear him rummaging around the desk before you could see him. “Looking for something?” His head popped up, a grin splitting his face when he saw you. You wouldn’t stop him from taking anything, and he knew it. You didn’t need to enter his mind to know that he was high. You could see it in his eyes just as clearly as you could see the fresh rehab bracelet on his wrist. “Fresh out of rehab and already high? I don’t know how you manage it.”

“I guess I’m just incredible.” You rolled your eyes at him, but still accepted his hug with a smile.

“I know that this is hard for you, but Ben should be here. Even if the others can’t see him. He should get a chance to say goodbye.”

Klaus’s eyes were glued to the floor as he spoke. “I know.”

You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Allison came in. It was nice, just the three of you. You three never fought. Mostly, you and Allison used to just laugh at whatever bit Klaus was doing.

“Number Three,” he was saying in a bad impression of your father’s voice when he was interrupted by Luther.

“Get out of his chair.” Of course. Perfect Number One was still so worried about following your father’s orders. Even now, he made Klaus empty his pockets as the two of you tried to leave so Luther and Allison could talk in private. But once you two were out of the room, you grinned and handed Klaus some things that you had snuck in your pockets before Luther came in. Nothing important or too valuable. It was really just a gesture to tell Klaus that you were on his side.

“And whatever is in your pants, make sure it’s nothing important before you sell it.” Being Klaus, he pretended to have no idea what you were talking about, but he shot you a wink before he wandered away.

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

You stood at the bar next to Klaus, wondering who was going to speak first. Your money was on Luther. You accepted the drink that Klaus handed you without bothering to ask what it was. Any alcohol would help you get through this.

“I guess we should get this started.” You were right. You took a seat as Luther stood up. You mostly tuned Luther out, as you always had. He was talking about scattering your father’s ashes.

“Dad had a favorite spot?” Allison asked.

“You know under the oak tree.” Everyone looked blankly at Luther. You remembered watching your father and Luther talking there when you were younger. It used to make you jealous. Now, it just made you mad. “We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?”

“No, Luther. We didn’t. He didn’t like any of us.” You gestured to the rest of your siblings as you spoke. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be lashing out. You were an FBI agent. Surely you were better than that. But there was something about being in this house with your siblings with the focus on your father that turned you into a child again.

And it didn’t matter whether you added fuel to the fire or not. Someone was bound to set everything off. 

“Listen up. There’s still some important things we need to discuss.”

“Like what?” Diego asked. You knew what Luther was going to say before he said anything.

“Like the way he died.”

“And here we go,” Diego muttered.

“I don’t understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack,” Vanya said, confusion evident in her voice.

“Yeah according to the coroner.”

“Well wouldn’t they know?” You hated to agree with Vanya, but you had to.

“Luther thinks that there was foul play,” you explained. “However, there was no sign of forced entry and no sign of a struggle.”

“Well, Y/N is an FBI agent. Why don’t you trust her?” Allison asked Luther.

“Look, I’m just saying something happened. The last time I talked to Dad, he sounded strange.”

“Oh, quelle surprise,” Klaus interjected as he gurgled his drink. That wouldn’t help Luther’s anger.

“Strange how?” Allison asked.

“He sounded on edge,” Luther explained. “Told me I should be careful who to trust.”

“Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man, who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.” Of course, Luther defended your father before turning to Klaus.

“Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.”

Klaus laughed. “No I can’t. I’m not in the right frame of mind.”

“You’re high?” You didn’t know how Allison was surprised. It was obvious.

“Then there’s the issue of the missing monocle.”

“Who cares about a stupid monocle, Luther?” you groaned. You noticed the way Diego’s face shifted for a second. So he had the monocle. Or he at least knew what happened to it. “No one is going to break in without alerting Mom or Pogo, kill Dad and make it look an accident, then take the stupid monocle. No one that smart would be that dumb.”

“Exactly! It’s worthless. Whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this?”

You shook your head as Diego said what you were thinking. “Isn’t it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed Dad.” The stunned faces of your siblings looked at Luther. You shook your head in disgust.

“Way to lead, Luther,” you said sarcastically. Allison and Vanya both got up and left the room.

“Can you blame me? I mean, you’ve never tried to hide how much you hate Dad. And Diego’s some sort of vigilante now. Both of you could easily sneak in and kill him.”

“You’re crazy, man. You’re crazy.” Klaus shook his head as he got up and headed back to the bar.

“I can’t believe you, Luther.”

“Do us all a favor and go back to the moon, monkey boy.” Luther’s eyes widened at my words before his face turned red with anger.

“Get out of my head,” he growled.

“I don’t need to be in your head to figure it out. Besides, your brain is so empty that your thoughts come floating out begging to be heard.”

“Neither of you are denying it,” Luther said finally. You threw your hands up and Diego stood up suddenly.

“Why would either of us decide to kill Dad now. What’s the trigger? It doesn't make sense. Unlike you, Luther, we moved on with our lives,” you explained slowly, like he was a child.

“Don’t talk down to me just because you’re an FBI agent.”

“You think there’s a murder. I catch serial killers. You should be begging for my help.”

“Unless he thinks the two of us teamed up to kill Dad,” Diego said. The two of you turned to look at Luther. He at least had the decency to look a little ashamed that he was thinking that exact thing. At that point, everyone’s voices had risen so much that you barely noticed the knock at the door.

“I’m out of here,” Diego said softly when Luther didn’t respond.

“No you’re not. Not until we figure out what happened.” Luther grabbed Diego’s arm, so Diego, of course, punched Luther in the face. Within a few seconds, they were fighting in earnest. Diego had his knives out and everything.

“Oh, you guys, don’t do this now,” Klaus whined from the bar. “Y/N, will you do something? Take away their sight or something. I’m too sober for this.”

You hadn’t used your powers in years. Ideally, Allison would come in and rumor them to stop, but you didn’t know where she had gone. Taking a deep breath, you focused your consciousness like your father had taught you. You were careful to only enter Diego’s and Luther’s minds, leaving Klaus out of it.

Darkness.

You focused on darkness, blocking out everything that your brothers were seeing. You could do this. You could control it, at least until Allison was back. Of course, being unable to see didn’t stop your brothers from blundering around.

“Y/N, stop!” Luther’s words were accompanied by a sharp blow to the back of your head. “Oh no, Y/N, I didn’t know you were right there. I can’t see anything. Just stop this, Y/N.”

“I’m just trying to stop you two from destroying the house. Besides, isn’t this a great way to honor Dad’s memory? Fighting with each other is what he always made us do.” You tried to stand back up, but your head was spinning from the blow and from the strain. There was once a time when you could hold ten people in the darkness with ease, but you weren’t used to using your powers anymore. You no longer had to spend hours each day inside other people’s minds. You could feel your control slipping, but you couldn’t stop. Your head hurt.

“Y/N!” Klaus yelled in terror. “I can’t see, Y/N.”

You had to stop. You had to stop. You couldn’t. Your head hurt and you couldn’t seem to find a way out of their minds. You were aware of other minds in the house. More than there should be. But why? And why did your head hurt so bad?

“Y/N, what are you doing? Ahhh my head!” Diego yelled. He sounded like he was in pain. You were making him feel your pain. Since when could you do that? Your Dad would have been so happy.

“I heard a rumor that you stopped.” Allison’s voice rang out. Suddenly, you were back in your own head and the splitting headache was just yours. Diego and Luther both collapsed on the floor with you. Klaus was by your side almost instantly, a new glass in hand for you, which you gulped down quickly before handing it back to him for a refill.

“Remind me not to mess with Y/N again,” Diego sighed. You met his eyes with an apologetic smile. It felt so much like you were kids who got a little carried away during training.

“I guess I got a little carried away.” The two of you laughed, and even Luther joined in eventually. The laughter stopped abruptly when a new voice spoke.

“Y/N?”

[ghost-light]

we rot, thinkin' lots about nothing

My contribution for Pride Day of @willieappreciationweek!!!

Summary:

Their gender- hm.

It was sort of like gender envy. Except remove the envy part. Because sure, ghosts could have gender. But it wasn’t really the gender he wanted. Stuck with it. Just like they were stuck in the afterlife, if you could call ghosthood an afterlife.

Read it under the cut or on ao3

To be fair, ghosts had never really needed a specific gender.

They still didn’t, at least not by any standards or official rules (spoiler alert; that’s because there were no definitive rules. The closest ones Willie had ever known to be rules were smashed to smithereens by Caleb Covington and Alex's band).

So when Julie asked if they wanted a pride flag or pin, it threw him off. When Julie showed them some pictures of pride flags for different gender identities, it threw them off. Hence the mini-spiral of skateboarding and maybe avoiding a certain band of ghosts and their lead singer.

It wasn’t hiding, per se. Willie Williamson Ortega didn’t hide. There was nothing to hide from, anyways. And yet, here he was, skating the day away, stuck in their own head with a problem that wouldn’t resolve itself.

He never had a label before. They were just a gay skater in the 80’s. He was just Willie, or William, to Caleb.

It didn’t feel quite right anymore.

The thing was, Willie's gender just was. They were a ghost. Couldn’t that be their gender?

(Agender, Flynn had suggested. Not having a particular gender. But that wasn’t quite right. He did have a gender. Probably.)

Willie tried explaining it to Alex, because he was a ghost too, right? Except… not quite in the sense that Willie was. Alex tried, he really did. But seeing the blonde’s encouraging but confused smile, and the way Alex’s eyebrows furrowed with intense concentration sank Willie’s spirits.

Flynn was a little more understanding. But they had found a label, was comfortable calling herself a demigirl lesbian. Demiboy and gay felt- close. Maybe. He hadn’t thought about these things so urgently before, hadn’t been able to find people that could truly get the situation. After seeing his look of distress, and the way their hands repeatedly combed through their hair, Flynn’s face softened. They put down their phone, still keeping a half-casual air. Adjusted their hat (where did Flynn get so many hats?).

“You know,” she paused. Exhaled slowly. “You know, gender is more like a concept. Like- my gender is basically a lesbian, yeah? It doesn’t make sense, but it makes sense to me. Some people call it a performance, but the point is that it shouldn’t define you. If you don’t find a label that you like, who cares, dude? If anyone gives you crap for it, hit them with your skateboard.”

The last line startled a laugh out of Willie, their shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “I, uh, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind. You’re-you’re pretty great at this stuff.”

Flynn smirked, tilting their head to the side. “I know. Now go get ready for your,” she wiggled her eyebrows a bit, “date with blondie. And I am off to catch my demon of a girlfriend’s dance rehearsal.” Their eyes sparked at the word “girlfriend”, and Willie couldn’t help but grin back.

“Not a date!” he called out. “Not- it’s not a date. It’s just movie night with Alex. And Luke and Reggie and Julie. See? Not a date.” Willie was fumbling with their words, meaning he was probably blushing hard too.

“Mhmm.” Flynn looked bemused, shaking her head a little. “Have fun on your not-a-date-ghost-party-plus-my-best-friend then, skater boy.”

—

Okay, so Flynn had been helpful. That wouldn’t explain why Willie still felt lost, though considerably less so than before.

Their gender- hm.

It was sort of like gender envy. Except remove the envy part. Because sure, ghosts could have gender. But it wasn’t really the gender he wanted. Stuck with it. Just like they were stuck in the afterlife, if you could call ghosthood an afterlife.

So gender envy without the envy. And it was still unclear if “ghost” was a real-enough gender, or if Willie was making it all up. So that took away from the metaphor quite a bit. Gender envy, but without the envy. Oh, and scrap the gender too. Nice metaphor, Ortega. You’re really making progress here.

It’s ok. Everything’s fine. Willie isn’t the least bit concerned. He didn’t need a label, honestly. So why did they feel like they needed one so badly? Nobody was going to care, Julie certainly wouldn’t mind regardless of the answer she got. (If Willie was being honest, it wasn’t really about Julie.)

Didn’t Willie figure this out when they were alive? Skaters didn’t need a gender. Skating was what defined them, not a gender identity label or their sexuality. Skating was the one thing that made them feel free and alive. And then they died, of course. That didn’t mean they couldn’t still skate, though. And yes, maybe he couldn’t really feel the wind in their hair as he rushed down Hollywood Boulevard, and as much fun as phasing straight through lifers was, it did only emphasize the fact that he was a ghost. Not real.

If Willie themself wasn’t real, then why should their gender have to be real? It was barely a significant part of them, anyways.

In all seriousness, he did have an idea of why Julie’s simple question was affecting them so much. Nobody had ever asked them that before. For years, decades, Willie had simply. Been. Willie Williamson Ortega, ghost skater at the Hollywood Ghost Club.

It hadn’t occurred to him just how much they didn’t feel like a person during that time. Skating was wonderful, of course. Their only true escape from the strange hodge-podge of Caleb’s talent show. It was Caleb that was the problem, Caleb that had been leeching off Willie’s being the whole time.

And then, he was alive again. Willie, that was. Not Caleb. Alex brought Willie back to life, and wasn’t that just ironic? Because Willie was so, so alive in ways that they had never been before. And all while he was dead, to top it off.

And the craziest part about it was-

And then their board rammed into someone, sending both parties to the ground in a groaning heap.

“Ah damn, I am so sorry, I- Reggie??” This was great. Another one of the band members that they ran over with a skateboard. Alex was never going to let him live this down. At least they weren’t obsessing more over the board than the person. (Although, Willie had done a quick check of his board, which seemed unharmed.)

“Man, I just wanted to go for a walk, not get turned into roadkill,” Reggie laughed, sitting up cautiously.

“I’m so sorry dude, I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention. Honestly, I was kinda having a minor afterlife crisis, as Alex would say.” He doesn’t know why he said that, doesn’t know what it is about Reggie that made them suddenly willing to stick around instead of apologize and skate off.

“Minor afterlife crisis, huh?” Reggie raised their eyebrows, hands propped up on his knees. “I mean, the afterlife is weird. Luke poofed my shirt away the first time we teleported! And Alex still gets wedgies, even though all our clothes are made of air!” Willie glanced at him, checking if he was serious or not. It was hard to tell, with Reggie’s earnest-puppy-dog confused face.

Willie inhaled deeply, sighing as they sat down. “Yeah. You know, I don’t think I’ve felt this alive, with Alex and you guys and Julie, since like, I died. And then Julie was asking about pride, and I can’t quite figure out what my gender identity is. It’s kinda…” His voice trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“Like you just are, but in a different way than everyone else.” Reggie murmured, eyes downcast.

Willie’s eyes snapped to Reggie. “Yeah! Exactly. You know that feeling? Because you just are, but nobody can understand that. I’m alive like I haven’t been in forever, and I can’t. Can’t put a name to myself anymore.”

Reggie nodded enthusiastically. “Luke keeps saying that maybe I’m like him. But I think he’s wrong. I used to wear skirts to our band performances. They were just fun to stomp and jump around on stage with. Nobody asks me, but if they did, I would say my gender’s like that. I’ll do it if it makes me feel good, but not because of labels.”

It was as simple as that. Willie took a breath, felt it sink into his bones and settle there. Simple. As. That. They’d been so busy worrying over finding a proper label. And truly, it wasn’t such a big deal.

Beside them, Reggie was still talking. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re ghosts. We can pretty much do anything. Skating makes you feel more you, right? You say that a lot. Skateboarding, that’s enough to be an identity, gender or not. My sister used to say, when our parents would get mad at me for wearing skirts or makeup, that it didn’t matter. Because I would always be me, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m always going to be me. Thank you, Reggie. I think you solved my minor afterlife crisis for me.” Skateboarding is a part of me. I can be a skater. I can be a ghost. I don’t need any other labels than that.

Except maybe Alex’s boyfriend. Or spouse. No! Stop thinking that much ahead, you haven’t even asked him out yet, Ortega! Focus on right now.

“Nah, it was all you. You knew it, you just needed to hear it again.” They grinned, green eyes sparkling in light of the setting sun. Willie huffed out a laugh, offering a fist. Reggie tapped his fist against Willie’s, not hesitating for a moment.

—

When Alex met Willie’s gaze, all he could see was happiness.

“Everything okay?” He asked, already knowing the answer that would come.

“Yeah. Reggie helped me figure some things out. And I’m still me. Just Willie.” They smiled, reaching out for Alex’s hand.

“Well, Just Willie, I hope you’re ready for Friday movie night. Luke picked A New Hope,” he leaned in and stage whispered, “for the seven hundredth time.”

Luke protested from across the couch, standing up to make his point.

“It’s a good movie, but we’ve all memorized the script at this point, Lucas.” Alex shot back, squeezing Willie’s hand slightly.

Willie leaned back, eyes fond as he took in the scene. Luke and Alex bickering loudly over who had the better movie choices, Julie laughing, exasperated as she bent over to paint Reggie’s nails a pale purple.

Definitely the most alive they had felt in a long time.

[erotikkook]

royal blood || prologue

☾⊹ 𝗿𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗹 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 || 𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ☾⊹ 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗳𝗹���𝗳𝗳, 𝗿𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗹 𝗮𝘂 ☾⊹ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟭.𝟰𝗸 ☾⊹ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 — 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 ☾⊹ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗺𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗻𝘁; 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝗿; 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀/𝗸𝗶𝗱𝗻𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 ☾⊹ 𝗮/𝗻: 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗯-𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗼? 𝘆𝗮𝘆? 𝗜'𝗺 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄!

Flinging the blankets off your bed, you groaned into your pillow. No matter how comfortable your king-size bed was, your back remained persistently stiff. You would've liked to blame it on the relentless amount of online tutoring you received daily, your back hunched uncomfortably over the desk that sat in the very corner of your room. Finally, though, despite the pain etching itself into the base of your spine, you heaved yourself forward and up.

"Give me water. It should be on my dresser." You grumbled. Grimacing in pain, you waited for Hye Jin, your latest maid and probably the most inept servant you'd had to date, to hand you your water glass.

You eyed her warily as she tilted the glass in her grasp, precariously allowing water to slosh over the rim and onto your floor. "You know if you put two hands on the glass, you'd be less likely to spill it everywhere."

Hye Jin bowed apologetically, sending another stream of water onto your carefully made bedspread. The droplets wound down the edge of your silken sheets, tucking themselves between your layered mattress.

"I-I'm so sorry-"

"Forget it," you muttered, reaching out to take the partially empty glass from between her soft hands. "You can leave."

She turned on the base of her heel. You didn't watch her leave. Shaking the leftover water from your fingertips, you winced. You'd have to get someone in your room to clean up later — you didn't want anything to get stained, especially your sheets. They'd cost you a small fortune. You arched your back one last time, taking the first few steps out of bed. You gingerly made your way to the closet at the opposite end of your bedroom, careful not to let the old wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet.

"Are you sure we have to do this again? I've told you twice now; a matrimonial banquet is outdated to the point where it's almost laughable. Can't I just live peacefully on my own? It's not like I'll be crowned a ruler anyway." The smell of your omelet had you almost salivating — not that you'd ever let it show, of course — you'd be scolded for improper table manners. 

"Don't be silly. You'll have just as much of a place in the kingdom as Namjoon. If anything, you and your spouse will be a wonderful addition to the council." With a wave of her hand, your mother dismissed your worry, a demure smile forming on the edges of her face. 

You don't want a spouse. Before you could force yourself to refute, you felt a grip at the edge of your kneecap. 

Namjoon bent towards you, breath ghosting the shell of your ear, "If you open your mouth, you'll be grounded for weeks. We'll speak after breakfast." 

Grunting, you leaned back, curling your hands into your lap. "I'll keep that in mind, mother."

Namjoon's pacing hadn't gotten any better, and frankly, it was rather annoying. You were sure he'd eventually burn a hole into the floor of your bedroom. 

"For the love of God — stop." The grip of your fingers against the broad expanse of his shoulders restricted his movements. He sighed against the chill of your fingertips, relocating to the cushioned chair beside your bed. 

"I want to send you away." There was silence. 

"Send me away? Why?" You choked. "I won't threaten your rule, I promise. I don't even want a seat on the counc-"

"I know how badly you want freedom and, if you'll give me a chance to explain," he threw a carefully pointed look in your direction before continuing, "I'd tell you about what I have in mind."

"Sorry, I won't stop you again, continue." You moved to the edge of your bed, careful to avoid the wet patches from earlier that morning. You'd told the head maid about it directly after breakfast. You supposed she hadn't gotten around to it yet. 

"A group of my friends — magic users — spend a lot of time traveling. They'd be able to take you far enough away. I want you to come back eventually, but you need to stay out of trouble right now. Mother and father probably didn't tell you, but Kroydia [1] has threatened our kingdom with war again."

"Kroydia? Again?" Kroydia had been trying to start a war with your kingdom for ages. Your parents have managed to avoid confrontation until recently. Still, patience from both sides was vastly transparent, and everyone — you included — had been expecting conflict for some time.  

"I think they mean it this time. Not that Kroydia didn't mean it the other times, but now it just seems so, I don't know, real. Like, they'll come to break down our walls and won't stop until they've conquered."

"You know, as much as I admire your will, it'll never do you any good to just protect me. You wouldn't come too?" You moved closer, playing with the hem of your knit shirt, something your mother gifted you the day of your twenty-first birthday. 

"As much as I'd love to, you know Mother and Father would completely break apart if we both disappeared. Not to mention, I'm trained to fight. You were too frail as a child, and you never had the opportunity to learn the way I did."

He was right, of course. You'd been an incredibly ill child, which led to your parents putting more pressure on Namjoon to perform his duties as the eldest. That was something you'd always felt was wrong. Your parents always put so much care into you that they'd barely paid attention to Namjoon's well-being. 

Looking up to meet your brother's eyes, you steeled yourself. You knew what you have to do, not just for yourself, but for the sake of your brother and parents, perhaps even the kingdom too. "I'll go. Tell me what to do."

The two of you had concocted a plan. Well, it was more Namjoon's plan than your own. He'd always more strategic than you when it came to these kinds of things — not that you attempted to flee all that often. 

〤

"You'll meet Jimin at the back entrance to the kitchen. Knock thrice, and he'll know it's you. We'll enact this plan after supper — when everyone has finished cleaning up and is preparing for bed."

"Jimin? As in the head of the guard? Are you sure he won't tell our parents about this? He's sworn himself to the crown."

He'd only smiled, a grin playing at the edges of his lips. "But to which crown? There's more than one, isn't there?"

〤

You'd need to leave everything behind. You needed to vanish — no trace of you could be left behind. You can do this; just breathe. You'll be safe. Doing as your brother instructed, you knocked thrice, making sure to keep them loud enough to be heard but quiet enough not to alert the staff milling around the hallways. The door cracked open, Jimin's face appearing through a sliver in the door. He breathed a sigh of relief, creaking it open ever-so-slightly.

You could see him fully now. His hair, which was a dark brown, was pulled back in waves. He eyed you wearily, his bright brown eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. 

"We don't have much time. Your father likes to patrol the gardens mid-evening." 

At that, you shimmied through the opening, huffing at the tight fit. Once you slipped through, Jimin turned a key into the lock situated to the left of the oak door — it was one-way like many of the doors leading to the castle's exterior — and twisted the doorknob to check that the lock was secure. 

"Come on, Taehyung's waiting."

Taehyung was probably one of the most attractive men you'd ever seen. His face was almost all lines — cut and chiseled as if meticulously designed. His nose was especially attractive, delicately pointed, and sitting perfectly against the rest of his features.

"-oming or what?" He was close. He must've moved while you were lost in thought. "Are you coming or what? We don't have all day." 

Not trusting yourself to speak, you inclined your head in affirmation, nervously glimpsing at Jimin, who stood to your right. 

"I'll let your brother know you were given to Taehyung safely, your highness." Leaning forward, Jimin bowed. 

"Thank you, Jimin." You'd never been one to crave something you'd ought to leave behind. Still, though, as you gazed at the castle that towered over you in all its immense glory, you were somehow inclined to yearn for all the things that you've never accomplished.

〤〤

[1] Kryodia - Kroydia is the name of the kingdom to the South of the Kingdom of Fuylis — which is the kingdom that your parents rule over