#and that sense of fear has been drilled into him from such a young age.....

[grandmofftarkinsuggestions]

tarkin anxiety disorder moments.

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

he’s the adult supervision, he’s the voice of reason, he’s a cringefail king, it’s Captain Haddock! Quite a few people asked for a timeline post for Haddock after I posted one of Tintin.

I found the whole idea of the Haddock family curse to be very interesting, and the implications behind it to be pretty dark... cw for alcoholism and childhood abuse. Let me know if you need anything tagged.

To figure out the timeline the evidence for Haddock’s age I found was in an animated adaptation of Explorers on the Moon where Haddock mentions he has around forty years of sailing experience. I doubt he was running around on ships as a newborn so that places his age during the canon comics at around 60ish, give or take a few years, which in my timeline places his childhood during the late Victorian era!

Left to right, top to bottom:

Child - Archibald Haddock had a pretty rough childhood and family life. The legacy of the “Haddock family curse” weighs heavily on him, and so does the alcoholism that runs generationally. His father is often drunk, taking his anger and frustration out on Archibald. Fully believing the family curse, Archibald’s father drills the idea that he is destined for failure into his head. 

Archibald’s only respite is his grandfather, who tells him stories of Sir Francis Haddock and other tall tales from the sea. His grandfather also would take him out on fishing trips, the lochs and the sea being his refuge. 

Teenager - It’s the 1880s and Archibald is left aimless after his grandfather passes away, passing the time by hiding from his father and drinking during the day. He fully believes he has no real future and lets himself get swept up by whatever will come along next.

Young Adult - Archibald decides to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and becomes a sailor, feeling at home at sea. He cleans up somewhat after befriending George Chester as the two train on the same merchant vessel. Chester drags a reluctant Archibald along into all kinds of crazy antics, with Archibald wanting to stay on the straight and narrow.

Archibald is drafted during the First World War, serving in the Grand Fleet. He is stationed at the Orkney and Shetland Islands with Chester.

Canon - After the war Archibald relapses on his addiction again, but is able to hold onto work in the merchant fleet. He eventually becomes a captain of a merchant vessel where his mental health issues are taken advantage of in the Crab with the Golden Claws. 

Seeing his crew mutiny, kidnap (and attempt to murder) a boy on his ship was a major wake up call - Haddock is now imbued with a sense of responsibility for Tintin (even if Tintin seems to handle things better than Haddock!). He doesn’t understand what Tintin sees in him but he’ll be damned if he proves him wrong. He’s not above calling him an idiot when the time is right though.

Post Canon - After Tintin loses his job Haddock does his best to support him.  He uses his wealth to further causes he believes in, donating money to artist collectives and scientific research that was repressed by fascist governments. Before Belgium even joins the Second World War he and the Marlinspike team proactively go out and foil various Nazi plots. Marlinspike Hall is firebombed by the Nazis in retaliation, but after the war Haddock funds various housing cooperative projects. Coming from a working class background he hasn’t forgotten the hardships a lot of people face.

Elderly - At this point Haddock is secure in his found family. He’s been living with his partner Ramo Nash, and has taken up various arts and crafts as hobbies. Looking back, he never expected to be a father, but is incredibly proud of Tintin. He never officially adopts him as a part of him still fears the family curse (plus they both agree “Haddock” as a name definitely does not suit Tintin)!

[anitalianfrie]

Oh! Absolutely 20 for rosquez!

things you said i wasn't meant to hear - rosquez

this was difficult to write. like. really difficult. i fear it might suck. alas, it's all i produced.

Marc slowly walks through the corridor. The walls are rough, painted of a faded yellow, and the rigs and bumps push against the skin of his knuckles while he drags his hand against one of them.  

For some reason, they remind him of home. 

He’s not used to being here. He feels like an outsider- no, like a stranger, in between the sturdy walls of the ranch, old and stained. He can feel it, in his bones and in the air: it’s not his place to be in. It’s Valentino’s. But Vale told him, mouth sweet of promises and sticky with kisses, with his strong accent and his esses that he hisses like a snake, mi casa es su casa, and Marc, mouth stretched large in a laugh, believed him. 

He can sense it in the air, in its staleness, the bitter taste of distrust. Of quiet wariness. They leave a bad taste in his mouth. He can feel it in the polite words of Bagnaia and Bezzecchi, he can hear it when Vale doesn’t let him go get the bread from the baker and sends one of the boys instead. 

He can’t do much about it, and maybe that’s what’s worse. How he didn’t care about these people’s opinions up until he arrived there, and understood how much they meant to Vale. How much he wanted them to accept him.  

He finds himself missing Alex, when he thinks too much about it. 

His hand meets the end of the wall. His small moment for himself is over. The door in front of him is slightly opened, just enough for him to be able to see in the room. He can see the back of someone’s head, a mop of curly hair, too light to be anyone else’s. Vale is there.  

He reached down, to the handle, to push the door open, when a voice from inside the room stops him. 

“You should talk to him.” it’s Luca. He sounds– he sounds serious. It’s a tone Marc has rarely heard him use, in the week he’s been here. 

“I know.” 

Marc knows he shouldn’t stay there, the knowledge of being impolite drilled into his head by his mother from a young age, when she had found him hiding behind the kitchen door, eavesdropping. Still, something inside tells him: this is about you. You should listen.  

He’s too weak not to. 

He’s too weak not to worry. Who else should Vale talk to? The thing that stetches between them, thin like the thread of a cobweb, dangling in the air, is fragile and new. Marc knows it, and Vale knows it too. It’s there, and day by day they are putting down bricks, layers to build up on. But as of now, a too strong breeze might end up ripping it apart. Marc doesn’t have the certainty it will happen, but he also doesn’t want to try. 

“It’s just–” Valentino continues, “I can’t help but feel that this happening is my fault. That him feeling like this, is my fault.” 

Marc can hear Luca sighing from the other side of the door. 

“Listen. I’m not going to say that it’s completely not your fault, because we both know that it’s not the case. But keeping thinking about it– it will do you no good. Talk to Marc. Ask him how he feels, instead of doing your thing where you assume what everybody’s feeling without talking.” 

A moment of silence. 

Marc pushes with his knuckles against the wood of the door. It creaks on its old, consumed hinges while it opens slightly. There are three doors that do it at the ranch, and Marc has memorised them all.  

“Hey” he says, while entering the room, as if he wasn’t hiding up until one second before (as if he wasn’t a liar), and Vale turns his head and greats him with a smile. He reaches out with a hand and grabs him by the waist, pulling him closer, laying his head against Marc’s ribs.  

Luca gets up from his chair. “I’ll leave you two to it.” he says, before closing the door behind him.  

Valentino drags Marc down on the couch, until they’re laying on top of each other, chests pressed together. Marc can feel Vale’s hand on the back of his head, playing with his hair, while he brings their faces closer to kiss, and kiss, and kiss. 

Under his hand, Marc can feel Vale’s heart beating. 

Tu-tum tu-tum tu-tum, strong and fast like the sound of the hooves of a horse on the ground. 

Valentino doesn’t say anything. 

Neither does Marc. 

send me a pairing and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic

[hyuganejiswife]

Out of My Mind | Chapter Two

Masterlist | Previous / Next

Shikamaru Nara x GNReader x Neji Hyuga

Coming from a prominent and secretive clan in the Hidden Leaf Village was already bad enough. Your justu was rarely ever seen and mostly hidden by the protective nature of your father and the elders of your clan. You were taught from a young age how to fight and you were easily one of the best fighters your age. Your secretive nature doesn’t keep the attention off of you, especially not from two of the brightest people in the chunin exams with you.

| not edited, mentions of an awkward Neji, Shikamaru is probably gonna end up trying to establish dominance over Neji 🫡 and no, I have no idea who YN is gonna end up with

Word Count: 1435

Shikamaru had barely left your bedside in the days following the preliminaries. He saw no point in training for something you wouldn’t be able to do with him, regardless of Asuma and Choji warning him that when you woke up, you’d probably kick his ass for not taking this seriously. You’d been friends with each other since your early days at the academy, and since you were older and growing into your roles to hopefully become jonin one day, you only began to grow closer with one another.

In spite of the elders of your clan warning you that Shikamaru was a good for nothing, lazy bum, you still remained friends with him. You often invited him over to your family home just to irk them, knowing how much they despised seeing him making himself right at home and even Choji more often than not, raiding the kitchen.

Neither man was their favorite guest, despite your father warning them to mind their tongues, they made sure to you and your friends well aware of their distaste for them. And in return, you made sure to have them over as often as possible.

The dark haired man looks up from his lap when the door to your hospital room slides open. There was yet another nurse there to administer even more medicine. He’d lost count at this point of how many times they would come in each day to drug you up again. He wasn’t allowed to know what they were giving you, he wasn’t family. So he would bid his time for your father to come and see you while he was there because he always seemed to just miss him each time.

“I know the drill,” he sighs as he stands, the nurse nodding as he leaves the room, sliding the door shut behind him so she could tend to you. He heads down the hall to the waiting room, standing at the window with his hands in his pockets.

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more terrified than the sight of you at the end of your match lying lifeless on the ground. In fact, he’s certain that was the first time he may have ever felt true fear. He was riddled with it, frozen. He has never frozen up like that before.

It was the reason why he never left your bedside until Asuma came and forced him away for the night or the nurses came in to check on you. But he was right back by your side the next morning, always bringing an extra breakfast sandwich just in case you were awake. It has been four days now and the doctors were saying you were due to wake any moment now.

He looks over his shoulder when he hears footsteps approaching, huffing when he sees Neji and TenTen. The woman smiles at him, raising a hand to wave, “How’s Y/N doing?” She offers a warm smile, hoping to bring a sense of comfort to the man who looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.

“Still not awake, such a drag…” He tucks his hands into his pockets and glances over at Neji, images of his fight with his own cousin and one of your closest friends flashing through his head.

Neji narrows his pale eyes at the man, holding a basket of fruit that TenTen was forcing him to carry. She said it would make him look like a caring friend to their own teammate who had yet to wake as well.

“All that fruit will rot before Lee wakes up too, you know?” Shikamaru turns back to the windows, leaning against the windowsill as he watches the street for Choji, knowing that now that it was around lunch, he would be showing up with something to eat for both of them while they both visit you.

Neji grits his teeth and yet calmly walks down the hallway to his teammates room, opting rather to ignore the man’s rather brash comment. He pauses about halfway there when he sees you in your hospital bed. It wasn’t the first time, though this time you were slowly moving, pushing yourself to sit up the best you could with how weak and sore you were.

He looks around and sees no one who he could get to help you, ultimately and reluctantly stepping in and setting the fruit basket down on your bedside table. Your gaze snaps up to meet his own as he slips an arm beneath yours, his other arm going around your waist to help you sit up against the headboard.

You hiss in pain and lean back, closing your eyes and letting out a deep breath. “Thank you,” you whisper, turning your head to meet his. Your throat feels scratchy and your mouth is dry. When you notice the fruit basket, you look up at him rather confused, “You brought a fruit basket?”

He has a moment of brief panic, but he can’t bring himself to tell you no. He knows you were expecting to see Shikamaru by your bedside and despite the echoing of his father’s words to make you his friend, of which he was still a bit put off by, he simply offers an awkward and weak smile.

You don’t say anything, taking note of how awkward he seems and you simply tear your gaze away. You look around the room and spot the water on the table beside the window. “Um, Neji…” He remains motionless, waiting for you to speak. “Can I have a glass of water? My throat… It hurts and my mouth is dry. That sound guy really took me out…” You laugh nervously and you don’t notice the brief flash of anger on his face, simply casting your gaze in the opposite direction of him.

He jumps up a little too quickly, going straight for the pitcher of water, pouring some into the glass before returning to your side. You take it and just like someone with absolutely no manners, you practically chug the water, a drop or two sliding down your chin. You sigh as you lower it, licking your lips and wiping your mouth, coughing quietly.

Neji looks at you with a bit of concern, opening his mouth to ask if you’re okay before your name is called rather loudly from the door. Choji rushes in with three bags of food in his hands, bringing way more than enough for the three of you to eat. Shikamaru steps in behind him and narrows his eyes at Neji, quickly wiping the look of distaste away as he sits beside you, setting the now empty glass down beside the basket.

With your attention elsewhere, answering all of Choji’s questions of concern, Neji quietly slips out of the room, abandoning all plans of going to see Rock Lee, mumbling to TenTen about whatever important business he has to tend to.

It briefly crosses his mind as he listens to you laugh and converse from down the hall of whether or not Lee and TenTen would have the same dedication to visiting him as your teammates do to you. He sighs softly, stepping out on the street and walking back towards his small apartment away from the Hyuga clan’s villa.

“Neji brought me a fruit basket,” you speak up, gesturing to the array of fresh fruit on the nightstand. Shikamaru raises an eyebrow, confused. As far as he was concerned that basket was meant to be taken to a still unconscious Rock Lee.

What had taken place to have caused Neji to leave it there?

He was someone who normally acted on impulse.

“Oh boy! That was nice of him! He must have a crush on you or something? He doesn’t usually do stuff like that!”

“No way!” Shikamaru huffs, “That guy doesn’t care about anyone but himself. There’s no way he’d have a crush on anyone.”

You laugh it off, shaking your head and throwing a rather annoyed and amused glance in Shikamaru’s direction. Choji looks between the two of you, taking a break from stuffing food in his mouth. He’s quiet, the only sound could be heard from the ruffling of his bag of chips.

“Don’t ever say something that stupid again, Choji.” He nods a bit, not taking Shikamaru’s words to heart. It wasn’t a big deal, he was joking.

Well, mostly.

Smack!

“Don’t hit them, you idiot!” Shikamaru groans, snatching the bag of chips from Choji that you had tried to take a few from, passing it right to you much to the other man’s dismay.

Taglist: @shikamarunaraaa @niktwazny303 @writers-whirlwind

[theowritesfiction]

'Zuko Alone'

Ah, this iconic episode. Again, this has been analyzed to death and thousands of metas written about it, I'm not going to get into it that deeply. I'm just putting down my gut reactions as I watch and award Jerk Points where necessary.

I suppose this is the episode that really drills in the idea that Zuko is now on his redemption arc. I'm not sure Zuko should deserve applause for not robbing a man and his pregnant wife, but baby steps I guess. (I really have to wonder how Zuko was not freaking out about his 'honor' when he stole Song's chocobo). Also, Zuko reveals having a sudden sense of dry humor? Maybe a chicken flew over? Boy's got hidden talents.

The meat of the chapter is obviously the flashbacks. The turtleduck pond scene between Zuko and Ursa is sweet. Is this where the Azula throws rocks at turtleducks myth comes from? But Zuko actually throws a whole loaf at the ducks and says that Azula FEEDS the ducks like that. He wouldn't say 'feed' if Azula threw rocks at them. Is it unthinkable that Azula would throw rocks at the ducks? No, it's not. But this isn't evidence for it.

aww cute little dangerous ladies :) they are so sweet. obviously, Azula is a rather mean spirited child, but we know and love her anyway. I love her scheming even at this young age. It's just fascinating the way her mind works, being aware of Mai's crush on Zuko, and creating an opportunity for a bit of a mean prank. I don't believe that Mai was in any danger here, Azula's firebending is too precise, and Mai shows absolutely no fear. She only freaks out when Zuko charges at her. Also, I love Ty Lee just finding the whole thing hilarious.

Ah, good old warmonger Iroh, cheerfully laughing about burning down Ba Sing Se. Let's see, 30 hypocrite points to Iroh. Extra 20 points for sending Azula that stupid doll, and another 10 points for enabling the whole stupid doll discourse. Azula wanting her dad to become the next Fire Lord is completely valid, what's wrong with Ursa for not supporting her husband and Zuko for not supporting his father? Don't you guys know how getting to the top in hereditary monarchy works? Read a history book.

I don't really have too much to say about Zuko's time with Lee and his family. Learning that doing the right thing can be difficult and thankless is an important step on Zuko's journey.

Azula and Zuko's reaction to Iroh abandoning the siege of Ba Sing Se was very interesting. Okay, 9 year old Azula is completely insensitive - big whoop she's 9 - but she's also completely right, and Iroh will be seen as a disgrace and a quitter in the eyes of the whole nation. I imagine that Azula's disrespect for Azulon comes from her being subjected to Ozai's fantasies about how he should be the Fire Lord. So when Ursa berates her and then asks 'what is wrong with that child?' my reaction is - SHE IS YOUR CHILD, you goddamn stupid cow, maybe you should find out? 150 Jerk Points to Ursa.

Ozai showcasing Azula's firebending talent to Azulon and being so proud of her and then frowning when Zuko attempts to impress his grandfather, yeah, top tier parenting is in full force. Just for this, 100 Jerk Points to Ozai. Also, Ursa telling Zuko how proud she is with him for trying, but not saying a word about Azula's flawless performance? Yeah, she's playing favorites too. 50 more Jerk Points.

I think I get why the fandom loves Azulon so much, it's because he acts so outraged about Ozai's suggestion to betray Iroh, and the fandom loves Iroh, so... Azulon is clearly a great guy, right? The great guy then decides that as punishment Ozai should also lose his firstborn son. (300 Jerk Points) Also, sure Azula is very mean spirited, but she IS warning Zuko about Azulon's intentions and telling the truth. She is probably even going against Ozai's wishes on this. But yeah, Azula ALWAYS lies, sure.

Ursa leaving is obviously a very traumatic and defining moment in Zuko's life, as he loses his greatest ally and supporter at the court. I like how for Zuko all the events of what happened behind the scenes still remain shrouded in mystery. Obviously, Azula is being a horrible mean gremlin to Zuko, but come on - it's a sibling rivalry, and Zuko has just lost his great defender. Of course Azula is enjoying what she thinks is her victory lap.

Obviously, this is one of the most lauded episodes in the entire show, and I can easily see why. I am somewhat surprised that Ozai earned fewer Jerk Points than I expected - but he is barely a character in this, he's more of a threatening, looming presence.

Also, this episode just made me realize how much I needed a similar look at the fire sibling childhood at the royal court, only from Azula's perspective. I think we would have gotten something like that if Book 4 had happened...

Jerk Points for Book 2:

Azulon - 300 Iroh - 210 Ursa, General Fong  - 200 Zuko - 120 Ozai - 100 Aang, Bumi, Lao Beifong - 50 Sokka - 40 Pakku - 30

[sabineelectricheart]

Shootout at Candee

Summary: Tati and Pierce are on a night out. Something terrible happens.

Rating: M - Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Non-explicit depictions of violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Words: 1000

Notes: So, v6 is out... Not for me, though.

It is utter chaos.

I cannot distinguish a single sound in the cacophony that Candee had become, just as a firepower blast is heard over the music and the dramatic shout of a young man from the front door of the club.

“Someone got shot outside! He’s dead! He’s fucking dead!”

The only thing I can think about in the moment is, Shit. I really should have peed earlier.

Sirens are screeching in the street and the blue lights from the police cars are blinding. Security is pushing someone to the floor and people are screaming. A mass of bodies seems to be moving without sense or direction, roaring against reinforced walls like a beast stuck in a cage. It is a stampede towards any open doors and mass of bodies pile, all trying to leave at once.

Pierce grabs my wrist and pulls me to the side so hard, with such force, that I fear my arm has come out of the socket. His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me close to him, his hand grips my hair comfortingly and he tucks my head beneath his chin as he towers over me protectively.

“What’s happening? I can’t see.” I cry out, not really knowing what to do.

My eyes are everywhere, trying to take in the scene that is unfolding, as I’m sure he is too. One moment everyone was drinking, dancing, laughing and having a good time. The next, two guys were throwing punches and smashing pint glasses on the table next to us. Shards had flown in every direction, insults had been thrown. Pierce had momentarily lost me when the two of them had knocked into our table and slammed into me.

“I don’t know.” My boyfriend replies.

I can feel his body shifting as he tries to get a better view. We stop running and he begins to think, but I immediately panic. I have never been in an active shooter situation, but I went to public school. I had deep-seeded trauma of the many, many drills they did with us and all the survival tactics they wanted us to remember.

Mighty good it did me. I have no clue what I am supposed to do.

“Let’s get out of here!” I shout, pulling him along.

We race up a set of stairs through an emergency door. It was hidden behind a curtain at the VIP lounge, so it was the least busy option available, even though we would be just cornering ourselves, if it so happened that the shooter entered the club.

It led us to the roof. It was raining and there was nowhere to take cover. I only stop running when I get to the fire exit. I motion to use it, but Pierce stops me with a rather rough pull to my wrist.

“No. Let’s stay here, Tati. The dude is probably hiding down there.” He says, in a low voice.

I nod, tersely and sit down, leaning over the brick railing off the old building. I wonder how this death trap ever managed to get approved in the first place

A tense silence hangs between us, as we probably should try to be silent and not attract attention. If the guy is in the alley beneath us and we could, theoretically, get down there, he could also use the fire escape and come to us. It is getting harder, though. Tears gather in my eyes and panic grips on my throat. I wanted to scream, make a scene, just so I could breathe again.

Pierce notices I am growing panicked, so he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his chest. He does not say anything for a moment, he just rubs circles on my back, keeping his breath even.

“How long until the press comes out? I think my ass is going to be handed to me tomorrow though when this gets out.” He tries to make a joke but the reality was exactly that. “Mom’s going to be pissed with me. The house’s going to get shit online.”

“You didn’t know this was going to happen. It’s not your fault. If anything, you’re the victim here.” I try to offer a more positive outlook on the situation.

I mean what I said, but I also know that he is probably right. His situation is not looking too good, in an economic point of view.

He was just internet famous enough to be actually famous, at least around New Hampshire, and he had an image of a party animal. It was part of the whole VidTok persona, even if it is relatively rare that he went out clubbing and actually did that. Alas, the one time he does, there is an open shooter situation, police in attendance and naturally the press are there after catching the news that he was out with his not too known girlfriend.

This was going to make one hot story, and brands do not like to associate themselves with these sorts of events. It feels something so shallow to be concerned about, but I am thankful that he came up with this. I could use some petty grievances to worry right about now, instead of my own survival.

I hold onto him whilst snuggling into his chest and breathe in his aftershave.

“Thank you.” I say, tilting my head upwards, kissing his jaw.

He peers down at me with a smile. “You? Thankful? That’s rare. What for?”

I elbow him lightly. “Don’t be an ass, Pierce. I’m trying to be nice. Thank you for bringing me over tonight, even if it didn’t pan out all that well, and thanks for looking out for me. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He beamed like a billboard. “I’m your boyfriend, Tati. It’s what I do. I’m going to keep you safe. Always.”

Pierce rubs his nose on my neck and we stay there, huddled together, until the police come.

*_*_*_*_*

College Craze Masterlist

[nejibaby]

Deja Vu

Pairing: Neji x Fem!Uchiha Reader

Summary: Hyuga Hiashi does not approve of your relationship with Neji.

implied established relationship. implied that neji has plans marrying.

Word Count: 2.8k

Memories - Part 1 | Deja Vu - Part 2

A/N: gotta say it started out cute but then bam angst sjdjdens i’m sorry i’m dramatic sumtyms 🤧 please let me know your thoughts 🥺

The Sharingan never forgets.

That’s among one of the few things that’s drilled into your mind as a child born in the Uchiha clan. Before you had even awakened your Sharingan, your late brother, Shishui, had already taught you this.

At a young age, you’ve always thought it was a blessing, especially to a shinobi like you. With the ability of the Sharingan to discern movements and to retain its information better than any other dojutsu, it enables you to progress faster than children your age.

Outside the shinobi life, however, it’s not really that useful, so it’s expected for you not to activate it at all. You don’t need to remember minor details of everyday life after all. But on some of your days off — on special days — although very rarely, you unconsciously activate your Sharingan when you’re with Neji.

It goes without saying that before the war, you’ve already gained quite a bit of control over the use of the Sharingan. You’re able to activate and deactivate it at will, although sometimes your emotions get the better of you and it messes your control. After the war, however, you’ve become adept at controlling both your emotions and your Sharingan, maybe even better than Sasuke.

But whenever Neji surprises you with affectionate gestures, you get so overwhelmed that you just can't control your body, and by extension, your dojutsu too.

No matter how hard you try, you’re unable to stop the blood rushing to your face. You’re unable to calm the violent thumping of your heart. You’re unable to get rid of the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You’re unable to prevent the Sharingan from activating. Especially on the rare occasions that he kisses the back of your hand tenderly after he walks you home, or when he kisses your lips before he leaves for a mission.

Neji isn’t good at romantic gestures, and so he keeps it to a bare minimum. But when he does these things, it always takes you by surprise.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he likes your cute reactions to his unpredictable acts. There’s always this short moment where your mind goes blank and your Sharingan manifests itself. This reassures him of your feelings for him because he knows he’s the only one who’ll be able to pull such a reaction from you. Not that he’s ever doubted you. You’ve always been so vocal about your feelings for him, after all.

On the flip side, while it embarrasses you that you can’t control your Sharingan when you’re with Neji, you like the way they activate themselves at those moments, as they’re able to help you remember the details of its aftermath — like the way Neji would always look down on the floor first before he meets your eyes, his cheeks tinted pink, and with the slightest upturn of his lips, almost as if he, himself, wasn’t expecting the onslaught of emotions that was brought about by his own actions. In mere seconds, you have all these memorized before he pulls away, and you play it over and over again in your mind until you’re branded with a new memory.

But the Sharingan is a curse as much as it is a blessing.

It’s a curse because it reminds you of the cruelty of the world. It doesn’t allow you to forget the scene of the Uchiha clan district after the massacre, even after knowing the true reason why it had to be done. It lets you remember the way you almost lost Neji from the Ten Tails’ attack during the war in his attempt to protect Naruto and Hinata.

And when Sasuke implanted Shisui’s eye to you, which he retrieved from Danzo before he annihilated him, the Sharingan lets you relive all his memories and experiences, and it paints you a picture of how unfair the world actually is, even more so to an Uchiha like you.

The unfair reality is further proven by an unexpected knock on your door a couple of weeks ago.

Hiashi. Hyuga Hiashi. The head of the Hyuga clan. Neji’s uncle.

He came to you with a deal, a proposition of sorts, but really it was just a threat in disguise as an offer.

“Leave Neji or else I’ll make sure he won’t be able to break free from his cage” is what he basically implied.

But to be precise, his words were, “The Hyuga clan is considering Neji to be the next heir, which would result in abolition of the main and branch family system altogether. Naturally, if he becomes the head of the clan, his curse seal will be removed, along with all the other branch family members’. However, there’s no telling if there’s going to be a change if he doesn’t get the position.

“You might have been keeping your relationship with him on the down-low, but the elders of the Hyuga clan know of it.

“To put it bluntly, we do not wish to be associated with the Uchiha in any way — so much that even disowning Neji has been put out there as an option, just in case — especially after what Sasuke pulled off after defeating the goddess.

“Moreover, if you were to bear a child together, there’s no telling what will happen to their kekkei genkai. It would be ideal to have him marry into the clan and follow tradition in order to preserve the Byakugan.

“I suppose you know where I’m going with this. It would be in his best interest if you call off whatever you have with him. Although this wouldn’t be a deal if there is nothing in it for you, right? Supposing Neji’s bright future is not enough for you, we are willing to arrange allowances of sorts.”

But before he could spout anything more, you cut him off by asking, “Does he know about this?”

“Not yet. But we’ll let him know soon enough.”

“Don’t. Keep it that way. I’ll handle this,” you told him, not caring if you didn’t sound respectful to a prominent figure such as himself. “I don’t need anything from your clan. All I want and need is for Neji to live a life that he deserves; a life that he was robbed off.”

Hiashi glared at you, offended by your words, but he didn't comment on it. Rather, he stared you down. His hardened expression morphing into suspicion the longer he looked at you; clearly he didn’t trust you. “How will you handle it?”

The only response he got from you is an intense stare with your Sharingan, and that alone was enough for him.

It’s frustrating to not have a choice, even when it comes to love, but in hindsight, you should’ve expected this. For all the troubles your ancestors caused in the past, it’s only natural for you to be this unfortunate.

Whatever blessing the Uchihas receive, it’s always paired with some type of misery. That’s just how it is, that’s how it would probably always be.

There’s no denying that in the end, it always, always hurts. But then again, you’re no stranger to pain and loss. And so is Neji. So surely, this would be for the best, at least that’s what you tell yourself over and over again in hopes that it will strengthen your resolve.

After all, Neji deserves a life where he doesn’t have to fear dying by the hands of the main branch family. He deserves a life where he can make choices of his own, without being tied down by his curse seal or his clan in general. And if leaving him means he’ll have all this and more, so be it.

As much as it is painful, it is hard, partly because of your waning resolve but especially because it’s Neji, who’s known for being an awfully perceptive shinobi. He’s almost never caught off guard, all the more when he’s with you, as he’s always keen on keeping you safe. Hence, you have to be meticulous and methodical.

The Sharingan’s ability to cast genjutsu is particularly harder to use against Hyugas due to their ability to see and sense the chakra concentrating by the eyes, enabling them to counter or avoid it entirely. Shisui’s Kotoamatsukami technique would’ve been quite useful, except you’re unable to use it yet because of the events prior to the war. Thus, you’ll have to rely on your own skills.

If timed right and casted properly, the genjutsu of the Sharingan has the ability to remove memories. To be precise, it can trick his mind into “forgetting” memories. But with years and years of memories between you and Neji, you know that you’ll have to cast it over and over again before everything will be completely wiped out.

You take advantage of the moments where Neji gives you affection, as you deem it the most subtle way to cast genjutsu on him without suspicion.

Although you have to admit, in the beginning you’ve been selfish, only removing memories of you and him that weren’t important — like the times he would accompany you in doing mundane tasks, or the times you both just lounge around after tiring missions. And because those are only minor memories, Neji is oblivious to the loss.

It gets exceptionally harder to cast the genjutsu once you’ve started erasing the major events in your relationship — the first date, the first kiss, the first time he held your hand, and the first time he introduced you as the love of his life. Until eventually, the affectionate acts dwindle down, and the only way you can use the Sharingan around him is when you ask him to train with you.

It’s only natural that the longer this goes on, the further you drift apart, and the more you lose him.

And it’s scary and painful because unlike Sasuke, Konoha has always been your home, but more specifically because of Neji. In fact, you can argue that Neji has always felt like home more than the village itself. You can walk the streets of Konoha but all it will ever scream is Neji’s name, and all it will ever show you is the memories you shared with him on every corner of the place.

The fact that you have to walk the streets without him is terrifying and foreign, and the only way you can avoid it altogether is by taking more and more missions, either the ones involving far away places or high rank missions that require every single bit of your concentration. Sometimes you even tag along to Sasuke’s expeditions to escape not only Neji’s overwhelming presence in the village, but also the thoughts of him.

It’s tiring and it’s heavy. But you’ve accepted the fact that you’re going to carry alone the memories for the two of you.

But this doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends, though they were quick to assume that things just didn’t work out between the two of you, and that you called your relationship off.

Ino is the first person to voice out her concern and her curiosity as she claimed it’s weird not seeing you hang out with Neji anymore.

“That’s just how it is, I suppose,” you shrug, trying to act nonchalant about everything despite the ache in your chest and the slight quiver of your voice.

She doesn’t comment further, thinking you probably didn’t want to talk about it.

But one day, when the whole clique — except for you and Sasuke — was hanging out, Ino can tell there was something wrong when Sakura asked if Neji remembered the time when you almost fell off a tree but he was there to catch you, and he furrowed his brows, saying he doesn’t recall that at all.

Break up or not, it’s highly unlikely for Neji to forget. Regardless of how minor something is, he always seems to remember them, especially when it involves you. And while he could’ve just been deflecting, there would’ve been no point in him denying that he remembers that occasion. Besides, Neji is blatantly honest, it’s one thing that you can count on when it comes to him, so really, how come he couldn’t remember that scenario at all?

This prompted Ino to observe Neji further out of concern and suspicion. She’d often find herself casually mentioning you and the feats you’ve both been through, but time and time again, Neji would tell her he has no recollection of those.

Ino wants to do something, anything really, just to clear her mind of suspicions, but she’s afraid she’s overstepping and interfering.

Neji takes notice of this. But even before that, he feels as though there’s something wrong, like something’s missing, but he doesn’t know what it is, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

After all, genjutsu might’ve tricked his mind, but his heart is an entirely different case.

It comes as a surprise to Ino when Neji comes to visit her in Yamanaka’s flower shop, looking at your favorite flowers without a clue why.

With Ino being the only one who seems to be willing to talk about you with him, it’s her who he seeks out. That, and he thinks the Yamanaka’s mind jutsus could be of help.

Ino doesn’t hesitate to help after Neji asks for it. When she goes to explore Neji’s consciousness, the first thing that she senses is your chakra. The further she prods, the more she realizes that it’s you who have been tampering with his memories. Then she realizes that it’s genjutsu that you’ve used on him, and she quickly breaks him out of it.

You know instantly when the jutsu breaks, feeling as if there was a string that snapped, and it immediately renders you frozen.

Fear grips you as you think about how Neji would feel after his memories come back. Will he be able to tell it was you who did it? Will he be mad at you? Will you tell him the reason why you did it? Will he even listen?

But if he’d stop talking to you altogether… then that would still be a win, right? Because that’s what Hiashi wants, that’s what his clan wants. That’s the only condition for them to give back Neji’s freedom.

But is it worth it?

Is this what you want?

Is this what Neji would want?

You’d like to believe so. And that’s the last thought you have as the rogue shinobi you’re supposed to capture stabs a kunai deep into your gut.

Of all the times the genjutsu could have broken, it just had to be when you were facing a highly skilled ninja. It’s once again a reminder that life is unfair, but this time, it’s your choices that lead you to this.

Deja vu. That’s how you feel when you wake up after escaping death’s clutches once again.

You blink once, twice, and then you look around your surroundings. You’re back in Konoha’s hospital, but this time you don’t wake up to a sleeping Neji by your bed.

You’re alone, and you feel hollow.

But then the door to your room opens abruptly and you almost jump in surprise.

Your breath hitches as you find the familiar lavender eyes staring back at you.

He calls your name to you softly, as if in a trance, and you feel your heart stutter at how perfect your name sounds on his lips.

Before you know it, he’s by your side, gently holding your hands. With an untrained eye, it would seem that his face is void of any emotion, but from your years of experience with him, you can clearly point out the sadness in his eyes.

You break the silence by saying, “I’m sorry, Neji.”

“For what exactly?”

You look away in shame. “For trying to erase your memories of us.”

“Why’d you do it then?”

“Because…” you bite your lip. “That’s what’s best for you,” your voice cracks. “I’m not… We couldn’t— no — we shouldn’t be together.”

Neji gathers his thoughts, and it takes a couple of minutes before he speaks up. “The Sharingan may not be able to forget, but the Byakugan sees everything.”

And you understand what he’s trying to say: he can see through the lies you feed yourself.

Neji sighs, and it gets your attention. You peek at him, and only then have you noticed the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders are slightly slumped.

He has always looked composed no matter the situation, but now he’s different.

“You used to tell me everything,” he says dejectedly.

The way he says it and the way he pleads with his eyes breaks something in you and you spill everything to him.

You’re crying and stuttering and you aren’t sure if you’re making sense. But Neji always, always understands you.

And by the end of your piece, you’re wrapped securely in his arms.

“You’re alright,” he comforts you. “We’re alright.”

“But Hiashi—”

“We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

here’s some really good ideas sent on anon for part 3!

<If you have ideas too, feel free to send them in because i love receiving them 🥰 I’ll be linking them here too!>

[apenitentialprayer]

I hit the breaking point as a parent a few years ago. It was the week of my extended family’s annual gathering in August, and we were struggling with assorted crises. My parents were aging; my wife and I were straining under the chaos of young children; my sister was bracing to prepare her preteens for bullying, sex and cyberstalking. Sure enough, one night all the tensions boiled over. At dinner, I noticed my nephew texting under the table. I knew I shouldn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help myself and asked him to stop. Ka-boom! My sister snapped at me to not discipline her child. My dad pointed out that my girls were the ones balancing spoons on their noses. My mom said none of the grandchildren had manners. Within minutes, everyone had fled to separate corners. Later, my dad called me to his bedside. There was a palpable sense of fear I couldn’t remember hearing before. “Our family’s falling apart,” he said. “No it’s not,” I said instinctively. “It’s stronger than ever.” But lying in bed afterward, I began to wonder: Was he right? What is the secret sauce that holds a family together? What are the ingredients that make some families effective, resilient, happy? It turns out to be an astonishingly good time to ask that question. The last few years have seen stunning breakthroughs in knowledge about how to make families, along with other groups, work more effectively. Myth-shattering research has reshaped our understanding of dinnertime, discipline and difficult conversations. Trendsetting programs from Silicon Valley and the military have introduced techniques for making teams function better. The only problem: most of that knowledge remains ghettoized in these subcultures, hidden from the parents who need it most. I spent the last few years trying to uncover that information, meeting families, scholars and experts ranging from peace negotiators to online game designers to Warren Buffett’s bankers. After a while, a surprising theme emerged. The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative. I first heard this idea from Marshall Duke, a colorful psychologist at Emory University. In the mid-1990s, Dr. Duke was asked to help explore myth and ritual in American families.“There was a lot of research at the time into the dissipation of the family,” he told me at his home in suburban Atlanta. “But we were more interested in what families could do to counteract those forces.” Around that time, Dr. Duke’s wife, Sara, a psychologist who works with children with learning disabilities, noticed something about her students.“The ones who know a lot about their families tend to do better when they face challenges,” she said. Her husband was intrigued, and along with a colleague, Robyn Fivush, set out to test her hypothesis. They developed a measure called the “Do You Know?” scale that asked children to answer 20 questions. Examples included: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? Do you know where your mom and dad went to high school? Do you know where your parents met? Do you know an illness or something really terrible that happened in your family? Do you know the story of your birth? Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush asked those questions of four dozen families in the summer of 2001, and taped several of their dinner table conversations. They then compared the children’s results to a battery of psychological tests the children had taken, and reached an overwhelming conclusion. The more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned. The “Do You Know?” scale turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness. “We were blown away,” Dr. Duke said. And then something unexpected happened. Two months later was Sept. 11. As citizens, Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush were horrified like everyone else, but as psychologists, they knew they had been given a rare opportunity: though the families they studied had not been directly affected by the events, all the children had experienced the same national trauma at the same time. The researchers went back and reassessed the children.“Once again,” Dr. Duke said, “the ones who knew more about their families proved to be more resilient, meaning they could moderate the effects of stress.” Why does knowing where your grandmother went to school help a child overcome something as minor as a skinned knee or as major as a terrorist attack? “The answers have to do with a child’s sense of being part of a larger family,” Dr. Duke said. Psychologists have found that every family has a unifying narrative, he explained, and those narratives take one of three shapes. First, the ascending family narrative: “Son, when we came to this country, we had nothing. Our family worked. We opened a store. Your grandfather went to high school. Your father went to college. And now you. ...” Second is the descending narrative: “Sweetheart, we used to have it all. Then we lost everything.” “The most healthful narrative,” Dr. Duke continued, “is the third one. It’s called the oscillating family narrative: ‘Dear, let me tell you, we’ve had ups and downs in our family. We built a family business. Your grandfather was a pillar of the community. Your mother was on the board of the hospital. But we also had setbacks. You had an uncle who was once arrested. We had a house burn down. Your father lost a job. But no matter what happened, we always stuck together as a family.’ ” Dr. Duke said that children who have the most self-confidence have what he and Dr. Fivush call a strong “intergenerational self.” They know they belong to something bigger than themselves. Leaders in other fields have found similar results. Many groups use what sociologists call sense-making, the building of a narrative that explains what the group is about. Jim Collins, a management expert and author of “Good to Great,” told me that successful human enterprises of any kind, from companies to countries, go out of their way to capture their core identity. In Mr. Collins’s terms, they “preserve core, while stimulating progress.” The same applies to families, he said. Mr. Collins recommended that families create a mission statement similar to the ones companies and other organizations use to identify their core values. The military has also found that teaching recruits about the history of their service increases their camaraderie and ability to bond more closely with their unit.Cmdr. David G. Smith is the chairman of the department of leadership, ethics and law at the Naval Academy and an expert in unit cohesion, the Pentagon’s term for group morale. Until recently, the military taught unit cohesion by “dehumanizing” individuals, Commander Smith said. Think of the bullying drill sergeants in “Full Metal Jacket” or “An Officer and a Gentleman.” But these days the military spends more time building up identity through communal activities. At the Naval Academy, Commander Smith advises graduating seniors to take incoming freshmen (or plebes) on history-building exercises, like going to the cemetery to pay tribute to the first naval aviator or visiting the original B-1 aircraft on display on campus. Dr. Duke recommended that parents pursue similar activities with their children. Any number of occasions work to convey this sense of history: holidays, vacations, big family get-togethers, even a ride to the mall. The hokier the family’s tradition, he said, the more likely it is to be passed down. He mentioned his family’s custom of hiding frozen turkeys and canned pumpkin in the bushes during Thanksgiving so grandchildren would have to “hunt for their supper,” like the Pilgrims. “These traditions become part of your family,” Dr. Duke said. Decades of research have shown that most happy families communicate effectively. But talking doesn’t mean simply “talking through problems,” as important as that is. Talking also means telling a positive story about yourselves. When faced with a challenge, happy families, like happy people, just add a new chapter to their life story that shows them overcoming the hardship. This skill is particularly important for children, whose identity tends to get locked in during adolescence. The bottom line: if you want a happier family, create, refine and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and your ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.

- Bruce Feiler. Emphases added.

[iammyownvariant]

Reader (Ghosts BBC, Mentioning of Alison/Mike and Alison/Thomas)

SUMMARY: You grew up in a wonderful big house full of ghosts. But why did you see them anyway? Reader Insert Series: BBC Ghosts AN: As I haven't the time to fully write out this idea, here's a shortened version of a prompt that has been playing inside my mind. Based on a post I viewed recently: I have always thought that if I'd been Alison, I'd be scared to death about getting pregnant or having a miscarriage and seeing that ghost child all the time. Now I could write something angsty about this, or something funny. I decided to go for a different route and wrote how it would be to be born in that household, with Alison and Mike as your mum and dad. (So no miscarriages or creepy things, just growing up with ghosts). Enjoy! PS. If anyone feels like picking up this idea or exploring elements of it, please do <3 -- -- Seeing ghosts was a normality to you. As you grew up, you saw them around the house and they were your friends. You saw them in school, saw them in the streets and basically everywhere you went. And you more than often became friends with them.

So this was how mum felt, hmm?

You could not say that you led a normal life. Seeing the ghosts and interacting with them wasn’t the oddest thing of all. No. The oddest thing you found, was something only revealed to you at a much later date, when you were already grown. But let’s cut back to when you were little.

You grew up in a wonderfully big home that your mum and dad had inherited by pure luck (or was it misfortune?). The house cost them everything and more than often people had wondered why they had started having kids during such a stressful period in their lives – because the home was still a bit of a wreck when you were born.

The house was large and wonderful and yours. You had never known any other place and you felt no need to ever move elsewhere. You loved it here. It was a certain love that made your mum and dad all the more determined to keep the place no matter what.

Apart from living in a fantasy-like building, your life was pretty normal.

Except for the ghosts.

The first time your parents noticed you saw them was when you were just a toddler and your father freaked out because you seemed to be talking to someone who wasn’t there. Your mum, being able to see them after a nearly-fatal accident, confirmed his fears though. You were playing with one of the ghosts that inhabited the house. Your parents thought it was a one off, until your sister was born four years later and she exhibited the same signs as you had.

Thus, the theory that seeing ghost was inheritable came into existence.

But as you had been seeing them since you were born, you held no fear of the inhabitants of the house. And there were a lot of them. It meant you were never alone. It was soothing in a way. Whenever there was something wrong or you felt sad or down, one of the ghosts was bound to cheer you up.

You especially loved Humphrey as a child. You loved his soothing voice and the tales he would tell when you couldn’t sleep. Truth to be told, you had a bit of a crush on the late Sir Humphrey Bone as a kid, thinking his face to be really pretty. So pretty, you often helped when his head and body were apart. You would go searching for another of the ghosts to pick up his head and put him back together whenever he lost it again. Though sometimes it would just be his head on your nightstand. Others might think this depravingly morbid, but it brought you a sense of safety, knowing he was there watching you. It chased away any bad dreams.

You often held sleepovers with Kitty. She was a lovely giggling young woman, and she loved to play hide and seek with you and your sister in the grand garden surrounding your home. The three of you would often giggle way into the night when either your mum would come to tell you to please go to sleep – or Robin joined in and did some of his caveman word games with the three of you – which made the evening all the better (no matter how often Kitty would exclaim that it was supposed to be a girls night only).

Having the ghosts around wasn’t always fun though. For instance, when you were a teenager and were playing dressing up and imagining all the boys who would swoon over you, only to see a head stick through your wall and telling you off. Auntie Fanny was a real pain sometimes, always talking about how you should be decent, how you should dress, how to hold your fork and knife during a dinner with guests. It was frustrating but she always managed to get on your nerves.

Your sister didn’t fare much better with her and suffered the same mouthiness of the former lady of the house. It didn’t help that the ghost woman still jumped out of a window in the midst of the night either. Your sister failed one of her exams once because she couldn’t focus on learning the material because Fanny Button kept her up each night with her screams. It was thanks to Thomas’ support that she was forced to focus on her schoolbooks and thanks to the other ghosts (and mum, who was pretty much threatening them to do as she said) to keep Auntie Fanny in check. In the end, your sister had changed back to a different room. The previous one she had occupied had been chosen by her because of the epic royal bathroom attached to it. Now she slept closer to yours again and took to using the shared bathroom without complaining. You didn’t mind, you liked having her close again.

Out of all the ghosts, you found the Captain to be the most tiresome as you were young. He was always drilling on about what you and the others should do. Always focusing on schedules that you should follow. Telling you off like you were a soldier.

Pat was way kinder, and often a bit too soft. You knew he often hung around your younger sister, because she was more outgoing than you were and he loved to be outside in nature. He helped her do all sorts of tricks, climb trees, shoot a bow and arrow – dangerous stuff even. But he taught her to do it responsibly, despite what you may expect of a man with an arrow lodged in his throat.

And then there was the one who frightened you like no other. Not even the plague citizens living in the cellar, who always kindly helped you with whatever issue you came to talk about. Yep, one of the ghosts scared you for a while: you usually tried to avoid Julian. As you were young, you thought he was an old man, wearing no pants, and he had a mean streak to him – jealousy you often found. He didn’t particularly seemed to like kids either, so you were fine with him going out of your way. As you grew older you realised Julian wasn’t actually as bad as you thought him to be. He even saved your life once or twice by pushing away or picking up a dangerous object that might have injured you otherwise. He was watching over you, like all the others were. And as you grew into a teenager and passed that sweet 16, you noticed a different gleam in his eyes. Julian changed. He became more gallant, more of a smooth talker when around you. But that behaviour ended quite abruptly, although the gleam of admiration never left his eyes. You wondered what had frightened him so to stop his advances on you. Whatever it was, you were grateful. Julian was not your type and never would be. (Later on you found out he had been challenged to a duel by Thomas who wanted to defend your honour, as child of the lovely Alison).

And then there was Jemima, she was the best friend of you and of your sister. As children she was just amazing to play with. First, she was older, and knew cool games you and your sibling had never heard of. Then, you grew to be the same age and she was the coolest girl you would ever know. And then, you grew older and she grew quieter. But you never ceased your habit of singing chilly songs with her.

You were a child, growing up between ghosts, and you felt safe between them. And though your father swore he could see them, most of his interactions with the house ghosts was initiated through you or your sister. He just didn’t possess the gift. But he was the greatest dad there ever lived. He loved doing stuff with you and your sister, going out, do fun things. He was a swell dad, filled to the brim with love for you and your sibling. He’d do anything to keep the two of you safe and happy and clothed and fed – even if things financially didn’t always go well for your family. You loved him to bits.

Your mum tried to warn you of the dangers of seeing ghosts. How those who could not see them would think it weird – would think you to be weird. You minded her words and sensibly, didn’t let anything show while in school. Even though, you were troubled with the ghost of a former teacher who kept sitting at a way too small child’s desk next to you and pester you throughout the lessons. You were glad when your mum told him off, some day after lessons. She had to sneak into the school with you. Oh boy, you had loved her firm voice, her confidence, and the fact that the ghost stuck to a different classroom from then on without coming near you again.

Your sister had a bit of a harder time. She let herself be distracted by the ghosts of a few children who had died in a school fire ages ago. While you had gotten away with explaining to them how you could not talk to them while others were around, your sister didn’t mind that rule though, and your parents struggled more than once with comments on how they should take your sister to see a doctor about this. Eventually, your sister learned, as she grew older. But more than often she would ignore what others thought of her and still communicate with the dead whilst other living beings were around.

But despite the fortune, or misfortune, of seeing ghosts, your life was pretty normal as you grew up. You loved all house ghosts for different reasons.

While Mary was easily one of your favourites, she was also a bit daft to the modern ways. Simple, might be a better word. She often promised to help you with your homework, but she never could attribute anything that you didn’t already know. So you often had to distract her with small tasks or tell her to hang out with Kitty or Robin instead.

And when Mary was gone it would be Thomas who would take over. Although he was easily distracted by art and snivelly poems, he would always try his best to focus and help you and your sister through each demeaning homework task. Sir Thomas Thorne was always nearby when you needed him. He had the tendency to sing songs to you as a baby, create old fashioned nursery rhymes when you were a toddler, play silly games with you as a child, motivate and guide you as a teenager.

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. With all the care he held for you, with the warm tingling feeling it gave you whenever he was around. You should have known. And when you were a teenager and dated that ghost boy from two blocks away, it was Thomas who completely lost it and told you the boy would be no good for you, and that you deserved someone better. Someone more permanent. Someone alive.

Your mother and Thomas had a huge fight then – ("Someone more permanent than a ghost? That's rich coming from you!" your mum had shouted) all ghosts were listening in. But your dad was none the wiser. And so were you. Because you did not catch all references, and you did not understand each jab and insult thrown like a ping pong ball. And when your mum sat with her hands in her hair and Sir Thomas’ arm wrapped around her shoulder, you thought they had just made up. And then your father came in and he gave your mother solace. They hugged for a long time, and Thomas had just gone into the adjacent room. But that was all there was to it.

Of course it wasn’t though. Because your mother was strong. Darn strong. You loved it about her. The whole attitude she had, the air with which she wandered around the home and instructed the ghosts like she owned them. Your father said it hadn’t always been like that, that it had grown over time. In the beginning she had been ill-at ease, easily manipulated by the inhabitants of their home, had been often looked at funnily and ruined many a great business deal for talking or listening to the ghosts. She still did that – listen to them. She still embarrassed herself and your whole family along with it. Like that time you were at a beach party with family and friends and she had an entire conversation with a family of the 1960’s who were dead. Yeah, you’d rather not think back on that.

Or the one time one of she reported a crime to a dead officer.

Yeah.

But your mother was your hero. She was strong, fierce, and always stood up for you and your sister.

To find out a much deeper and darker truth then, about your family, was world shattering. And it was all because your sister had been in an accident and you came home to find Thomas in all states. And when you asked the other ghosts what had occurred they told you he was crying about his child. And that’s only when the pin dropped and you realised why this man was always working in your best interest and being so darn warm and kind for a person who was dead. Because you'd not missed the many times he showered your mother with affection. Or the way she would smile at him when he gave her another compliment. Or the way they would be just a little...too close. Could your sister be the child of a ghost? Impossible, right?

And you confronted your mum about it.

And she broke down.

Alison Cooper confessed to you, while your father was away at work, that she had been entangled with the ghost of Sir Thomas Thorne after a few heavy drinks and a way too fun party held at their home. Apparently, she had been incredibly drunk and had said things she otherwise wouldn’t have admitted. What happened should not have been possible by far. But Thomas had been able to actually feel her, and Alison had believed that no ghost could actually cause consequences with a human who was still alive. Perhaps her near-death experience had thrown something into the mix. We would never know. But Alison found herself pregnant after days spent without a touch by your dad, Mike. The first thought had been to terminate the pregnancy, but remembering the dove that still liked to terrorize their bedroom, Alison had grown scared. She realised she could not terminate the pregnancy or she might be faced with a ghost of her own baby. And you realised this was not your sister she was talking about. This was you.

So instead, Alison had pleaded Thomas to keep their secret (which he had done poorly and every ghost knew what had truly occurred, but luckily your dad could not interact with them), and your mum seduced your dad. They were already married, there were no contenders, your father believed you were theirs and never held a doubt. In hindsight, it explained your paleness- and the seeing of ghosts. It had been deemed the impossible, and for a long while, Alison thought and hoped that you were a child of Mike’s after all.

Mike took it all up really well, with you being what is called an accident. He was instantly smitten – as were all of the ghosts to be honest. Alison thought things would work our after all.

But then, when Mike wanted to have another kid, and though they tried, it took three years and a lot of desperation to admit to seeing a doctor. And then they were faced with the terrible truth that Mike wasn’t fertile at all. The news was delivered to your mum first, with Mike away and only the house ghosts listening in. It was a shock to all of them, mostly to Alison who had been pointed at the result by another ghost doctor. She managed to hide away the evidence, the true results, and together with newly found ghost friends she made at the hospital, fabricated a new lie. Mike was never to know that you could not possibly be his.

So instead, Alison was persuaded by Thomas and her undying love for Mike. He wanted another baby, she wanted them to be happy. Deal done. Thomas fathered a second ghost-seeing child with your mum. Your sister. The one who was recovering in hospital after a nasty car crash. (And luckily, she got out alive and safe and you got to hug her again tightly because no matter what, your sister would always be closest to you - all ghosts in spite).

So there you were, hearing your mother’s confession. The understanding dawning upon you that you did not see ghosts because of just your mum – but because you father was one. It all made so much sense. And it took a lot of strength to keep your mouth shut about it to Mike, your father.

Your real father, Thomas, you found, was understanding. And you were glad more than once that he could not interact with Mike. You had warned him that you would keep calling Mike dad, even if he wasn’t biologically. And Mike remained none the wiser. You still loved your non-biological dad as fiercely as you had before. You’d just glare a lot more in Thomas’ direction for a while.

In the end, you ended up marrying a young ‘living’ partner. You made sure that both Mike and Thomas were leading you down the aisle – even if Mike was never to know it. All Ghosts loved it, loved how you recognised Thomas to be your father. They also loved it how you never once dropped the truth on Mike or let him down. In your eyes, he would always remain on a pedestal as the perfect dad. It just so happened that you had two now.

As you somehow had expected, Alison died too young. An accident out of love, one of the ghosts had said. (She was furious at Thomas for many years to come, but she could not help but love him still.) During the years she was angry at Thomas, she tried to convey a message to Mike. She wanted him to know the truth, but he hadn’t understood her dying last breath, and he hadn’t understood her hauntings. ("It say's Thomas... dad? dad? Wait a minute, isn't Thomas one of the ghosts? Yeah, of course he is dead. Duh!") And he seemed delighted that she was still there, even as he started dating a new woman and ended up marrying her. (Alison was okay withit, but only after smashing a few vases and making that new woman's life a living hell). It was no wonder your dad wanted to move elsewhere quite soon after his second marriage. I mean, living with your deceased wife and your new crumpit was a bit weird, right? Your dad, Mike, handed the house to you and your sister. She chose not to stay and lived her live elsewhere, visiting occassionally, while Mike and his new wife settled somewhere close by. You remained in the huge mansion with your husband and your children, enjoying the way the ghosts watched over them as they had watched over you, feeling safe and happy. Because with these ghosts you were at home.

[ficrecsbybu]

WinterIron fic rec 2021: Part I

Note: this fic rec consists only of Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark fics. the only Stucky & Stony you might see is as past relationships but that’s it. it’s also complete works ONLY. also - no underage stuff 🔪.  if you have any requests for Winteriron fic recs (for e.g non-superpower au, only one shots, series, hardcore smut, post-tws, college au, not team cap friendly fics, bodyguard au etc.) you can send me requests ^^. anyway... enjoy 😉 

✨ The Guiding of Death by RayShippouUchiha

“That whole Merchant of Death thing,” someone off to the side faux whispers, “makes a lot more sense now.”

It echoes across the bridge like a gunshot. 

Rated M, Hades & Persephone AU, Canon Divergence, always female Tony Stark, not Team Cap friendly. word count: 41391

(note: listen... I know het pairings and/or gender bend is not popular and I never really read those in general BUT this is straight up one of the best fics I have ever read so I NEEDED to share this with y’all...✌️)

✨ Forms of Love by bear_bell

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Rated E, Post-CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Team Iron Man. word count: 33591

✨ Looking at You by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Bucky looks for so long that now all he wants to do is touch and hold and fix everything. But Tony can barely be in the same room as Bucky, cant even look him in the eye. So Bucky doesn't know what to do about Tony, but he is determined to do something. Because all he wants is to look at Tony, and see Tony looking back with a smile.

Rated E, Post-CW, PTSD, team heals, mental healing, forgiveness, angst with a happy ending. word count: 28,168

✨ I'll Be Your Bodyguard (If You'll Be My Security Blanket) by NarutoRox

When one of Loki's pranks gone wrong leaves the team with a young Winter Soldier in their care, they know they're going to have their hands full. Especially since this newer, tinier version of Bucky seems to have a bodyguard complex - and a particular attachment to Tony.

Rated T, kid fic, age regression/de-aging, de-aged Bucky, tiny bodyguard Bucky. word count: 4,993. 

(note: finally something CUTE. Im so sorry for being such a slut for angst and heavy stuff 😅)

✨ Fate Strings Not Required by Akira_of_the_Twilight

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Rated T, AU - no superpowers, AU - soulmates, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, age difference. word count: 7,032.

✨ Shameless  by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

Tony isn’t actually sure which of them starts it—he’d like to take credit, but if he’s learned anything it’s that Barnes is by no means a wilting flower. Besides, the start doesn’t matter as much as figuring out who’s going to actually finish it.

rated M, flirting, dirty talk, sexual tension. word count: 2,560

✨ Winter Wooer by salytierra

Winter may not be the most pleasant guy to live or share your body with, but he isn't nearly as destructive as everybody expected him to be either. He likes to brood in the corners, watch British TV, and freak people out. And Tony. He really, really likes Tony Stark. There's just one problem – Bucky's pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way about the guy.

Rated M, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, team as family. word count: 8,726

✨ Even Darkness Must Pass by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

“Fake it till you make it,” Bucky whispered to himself, swallowing around his panic. Sam had drilled the idea into him, and it had become a mantra of sorts, something to hold onto when all he wanted to do was blend into the shadows and disappear.

“You’ll be fine.”

Steve placed a warm, strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed, his super soldier ears having picked up Bucky uttering the now familiar saying.

Bucky nodded, tried to believe his own words, and followed Steve onto the common floor, a wall of sound hitting them as they entered.

rated M (but mild sexual content), parent Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes recovering, team as family, of love and hobbits 🧝🏻‍♂️. word count: 15,289

✨ Paths Are Made by Walking by Potrix 

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.

Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

rated T, post-TWS, fluff, humour, getting together, idiots in love. word count: 4,744.

✨ Rise In Perfect Light (Be Not Fearful Of The Night) by RayShippouUchiha

At first, the new element singing in his chest, Tony doesn’t understand what he’s done.

Doesn’t understand the full consequences of his actions.

But, to be fair, there’s no way he really could have.

Not even a futurist like him could have ever seen this coming.

rated G, post-CW, past Stony, angst with a happy ending. word count: 3,589.

(note: this fic is SO BEAUTIFUL. lemme just asjkdjnsjkdm)

✨ and amidst the ruins, there was you by TheKitteh

With everything resolved - post the Berlin conflict, Siberia and the rogue Avengers' return - Tony relishes in the clarity of what the team is now. He can finally see the well-defined lines, he can rely on solid rules and the chain of command. He's settled into his life like never before.

That is, until one day, an unhinged sorcerer with no grasp on his magic shatters that new-found balance.

As a result, half of Tony's soul is now gone, but he's willing to do anything to get it back.

rated T, post-CW, canon divergence, au - Dystopia, Dimension Travel, magical accidents, slow burn, getting together. word count: 36,976

✨ and so we unfold by TheKitteh

Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.

An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.

Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.

He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.

He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself.

rated T, CACW canon divergence, getting together, reconciliation, POV alternating, Bucky Barnes recovering. word count: 14,449

✨ Spilt on the Ground like Water by tisfan

Tony has been black-bagged and illegally held at the Raft. Steve has no intentions of going to rescue him.

But the Winter Soldier isn't going to leave him behind.

rated E, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, implied/referenced torture, frottage, dub-con, mention of part non-con (HYDRA trash party), not Steve friendly, suicidal thoughts, touch-starved. word count: 10,853

✨ Norns, Save Us (From Ourselves) by phlintandsteel

It’s been ten years since half the universe was dusted.

rated E, post-IW au, A/B/O verse, Omega Tony, Alpha Bucky, Soulmates, Peter & Harley playing matchmaker, still recovering Bucky Barnes, not Steve Rogers Friendly, angst with a happy ending. word count: 37,324.

✨ Change You Like A Remix by ficlicious 

No one ever said Avenging would be easy, but Bucky could have really used a memo about the weeks where the hits just didn’t stop coming. He’d probably still have signed his soul away to the gods of spandex and paperwork, but a heads up woulda been nice before he nodded and smiled and took up residence in the house sanity fled when the Avengers moved in.

---- Soulmates, misunderstandings, snark, genderswap and sleep-deprived Avengers abound. Tony's a woman. Must be Friday.

rated E, AU - soulmates, established relationship, temporary gender swap, jealous Bucky Barnes, misunderstanding, miscommunication. word count: 10,494.

✨ Getting to Know You by orbingarrow

It had been an adventure, navigating the sweetly apologetic Bucky Barnes, who haunted the tower most days, and the the Winter Soldier, who occasionally inhabited Barnes’s body. The Winter Soldier was not apologetic; he was scary. And he was currently chilling out, uninvited, in Tony's lab.

“Leave,” Tony said, because Tony was either a dead man or not, and there wasn’t much he could do about it before coffee.

“Or you could give me permission to be here,” the Winter Soldier suggested.

“I don’t let strangers poke around my stuff,” Tony grumbled, as he walked past the Soldier to take a seat at his workbench.

“Easily solved,” the Soldier deflected. “Get to know me.”

-This is what happens when Tony does.

rated G, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are different personalities, fluff, Clint Barton is a good bro. word count: 9,470

✨ Safe House by ali_aliska

For years, Tony had successfully kept his secret. Neither the world nor his team knew he was Iron Man and as far as he was concerned, everyone was better off that way. On his best days, Tony Stark was not someone people liked and trusted, so the last thing Tony wanted was to tarnish Iron Man’s good reputation by revealing the truth.

But then SHIELD falls, the Avengers face disarray, and a stray Hydra assassin forces Tony to go into hiding—and where better than the safe house he had just crafted for the Avengers and their own ex-assassin ready to come in from the cold?

Tony plans to hide away from everyone in his makeshift workshop until the coast is clear and he’s safe to go home. No one would care to spend any time with the reclusive, arrogant billionaire anyways, right? Iron Man is the one everyone wants around.

Bucky Barnes, on his own journey to reclaim his life and identity, seems to disagree with that sentiment.

rated T, post TWS, canon divergence, au - Secret Identity, mutual pining, team as family, slow burn, misunderstandings. word count: 89,533

✨ Versace on the floor by withered

The modern man’s armor is his clothing, and Bucky wants Tony out of his.

rated T,  post CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Separate Personalities, Barnes & Soldier & their hard-on for Tony, not team cap friendly. word count: 2,127 

[aka-ashi-keiji]

Hi love ! Here is my Shouto Todoroki OS request, quite simple, yet deep: in your opinion, what would it take for Shouto to actually comprehend, then acknowledge his feelings for reader ? Like, I love Slow burns and I think Todoroki's character is perfect for this kind of development. But I wonder how many time it would take him to realize what has been growing in his heart for who knows how long, in a canon way?

Or, to put it in a simple way: How long does it take to Todoroki to come to terms with his feelings, and what does he do about it ? How ?

Here it is, you're absolutely free in this request (But please give us a happy ending with lot of Fluff eidkdud). Thank you so much in advance, ILY ❤💖

Love Made of Broken Iron

Shoto Todoroki

Understanding love, best friends to lovers

One shot, soft angst to fluff

tw: mentions of child abuse.

a/n: this is for one of the kindest mutuals i have! @luluwiie i hope you love this, it was challenging but so so so much fun. hopefully this fulfills your gorgeous request. i love you!

You waited patiently on the porch as your uniform skirt moved with the early morning wind. The cherry blossom trees had just started to bloom and that fact alone was enough to warm the tips of your frozen fingers as your smile crept to your face. But nonetheless, you were freezing and it seemed as though your companion was running slightly behind schedule. You checked the time on your phone and just like you suspected, Shoto was running 5 minutes late to meet you outside his house.

“God shoto, how long does it take you to slip on a uniform?” You huffed out as you placed your phone back in your pocket and turned to knock on the front door. However, before you even got the chance to, it swung open and duel chromatic eyes stared back into yours.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I made us sandwiches for lunch.” He greeted you in his usual calm but hard front demeanor. Instead of commenting about how cold you were and that he should’ve made lunch faster, you simply took it and placed it in your bag. With that, you both started your commute.

You and Shoto have known each other since you were young, but due to his own family issues you both had just recently become friends. As a child, you always admired his splitone features and the way his eyes lit up in two separate ways when he was excited. At age five, you thought he was cool. But now at age seventeen, you can’t help but think he’s absolutely and utterly gorgeous.

Shoto had accepted your companionship your first year of highschool. Both of you always seemed to keep to your desk and shy away from the large groups, that similarity between you two caused you to naturally gravitate towards him. Asking for his number and inviting him to get coffee with you after school was single handedly the scariest but best idea you have ever committed to. Because if you hadn’t done that, if you had just let that day during your first year continue as always and gone to get coffee by yourself, you wouldn’t be where you are right now.

Currently, Shoto is walking on your right, he always insisted on doing so, just so that he could put some distance between you and the street. Your hands wrapped themselves securely around his forearm closest to you, trying to draw from his warmth. Well, that’s what you told yourself. But, in all honesty you just wanted an excuse to be close to him, to connect to him.

It was embarrassingly obvious how in love with Shoto you were, everyone seemed to notice except for him. And you weren’t the only one to take notice of his beauty and fall for his contrasting features. However, with you it was different, you knew that your romantic feelings couldn’t be grouped together with all of his other admirers. You didn’t fall in love with Shoto just because he was beautiful, but because you were able to connect to him and see past that iron wall he fights so hard to keep up.

Slowly, over the past three years at UA, you found yourself becoming immersed with your own feelings, not entirely sure how to deal with them. Your first year wasn’t too bad, you felt the normal butterflies when he would pat your shoulder when you did something well, one of his only signs of affection. And your cheeks still dusted rose as he would greet you in the morning and compliment something about your hair or the way you wore your uniform. But your second year was drastically different. You had a mere teenage crush on Shoto during your first year, but the amount of time you spent with him the summer after allowed for your feelings to expand to new points you didn’t know your heart was capable of feeling.

The intensity of your love spread like wildfire with every passing day you spent with him in the summer air. You’d find yourself growing overly excited about study sessions you would normally dread due to you thinking summer was your time for a break. And you personally hated silent reading with people around, the silence was uncomfortable. But sitting next to Shoto in your own home, you both on the couch with your legs over his lap, the books you read in silence on those days, that silence was comfortable then.

And if your legs weren’t over his lap, your head found its way to his shoulder or his would fall to yours. His peppermint hair sweeping to the side and tickling the nape of your neck and also covering his observant eyes. But no matter how subtle the touches were, no matter how brief the physical connection, the fire within your heart only blazed warmer.

Shoto was notorious for keeping his distance, but he let you get close. He allowed for you to take part in his interests and he took time to explain to you what he feels and why these things bring him so much joy. He let down his iron wall with you, even if it was just a little. But eventually, you learned what that iron wall was hiding. You come to understand why he’s afraid of boiling water and why he flinches so hard when you hug him without warning. You learned the heart-wrenching story of the scar that covers his sapphire eye, and the damage that it caused and still tolls on him today. You now understood why he always insisted on hanging out with you and anywhere outside of his home. And knowing you could provide that sanction for him ignited your heart’s flames all over once more.

Deep down you wanted so badly to expand your connection to him beyond just friends, but something stopped you. This ‘something’ was so definite, it felt nearly physical. It was as if an iron wall stood between you two.

Shoto had never shown any romantic interests in you, but then again he never took notice of anyone in that sort of way. No matter how many girls threw themselves his way, or when countless guys tried to catch a sliver of his attention, he barely even glanced in their direction. And it wasn’t because he was trying to be rude or blow them off. He genuinely just couldn’t tell when someone was trying to flatter him, his social skills still not up to speed. Shoto was capable of feeling, he just wasn’t sure if he should feel.

You knew this first hand, all the hints you dropped about the flames in your chest never were picked up. He simply believed you were platonically complimenting him, that iron wall still plastered around his heart. And no matter how rapid your feelings grew, the fear of rejection always halted your confessions. You loved Shoto so deeply, but you cared for the strength of your guys’ friendship to a much more powerful extent.

One night during finals week of your second year, you and Sho had been studying nearly all day. It was a Saturday and it was around 10:30 at night. You personally were hungry and Shoto himself said he could go for a snack. A late night soba vender had just opened up down the street, seemed like the perfect spot. So you both threw on sweaters over the sweatpants you had sat in all day, texted your parents since they had already gone to bed, and just like that you and shoto were walking down the dimly lit street through the quantum hours of the night sky.

The stars were scattered abundantly that night, the chill that went through your spine with every gust of wind went merely unnoticed due to the night’s beauty. Your hand clutched Shoto’s bicep, he insisted on it as a precaution. It made you feel safer as well, knowing abductions had been more frequent and took place mainly at night. But along with the security it provided, it also warmed you from the inside. The manifestation of love in your heart turned to flames, and the flames seemed to ignite your senses and tint your cheeks pink. By your luck, Shoto didn’t notice any of this, he never noticed how flustered you became when you shared these small touches that seemed to break that iron wall. But, maybe that was for the better.

You guys had ended your commute to the soba vendor, seating yourselves at the counter and ordering respectively. Shoto had insisted on paying since he somehow managed to swipe his father’s credit card, but if it was Enji’s money, you really couldn’t mind. By the time you each had finished up your meal, the time was nearly 11:45. Your walk home was slightly more eventful than the first time around, you decided to take a detour through a park near a quiet pond.

Shoto’s feet dragged after yours all while you tugged his arm as you nearly skipped to the water's edge. You had a slightly more pep in your step than he himself, but that was nearly symbolic of you and Shoto. You two were nearly identical in the way you always held a calm expression, your short but precise remarks, and even in the demeanor you both present when you become even the slightest bit irritated. These similarities manifested from the tough love in which you were raised with, Shoto’s father being mainly all tough and no love. Your parents drilled it into your mind that anything less of perfection was utter failure. But the love he lacked, you still received to some extent as a child. and that’s what set you apart. You had the ability to skip through the night and feel the joy of the starlight reflecting off your eyes, Shoto simply watching and observing your ecstasy. Not entirely processing a feeling he sees now, but has never felt for himself.

Both you and Shoto came to a standstill at the edge of the water, barely any words had been exchanged since you left the soba vendor. The shoes you both wore began to sink into the sand of the bay. You leaned over the edge, Shoto mimicking your actions. Your reflections on the water surface rippled by the Koi fish that swam beneath. The light the stars cast onto their scales bounced back and onto Shoto’s eyes. His focus connected to the fish as it swam down stream and your reflections became whole once more. While his gaze never shifted, you found yours following the change of his features. You watched through the mirror of water as his eyebrows relaxed, the corners of his mouth weren’t pulled tight, but instead they tugged upward in the most subtle of ways. The flames erupted once more, rising from the ashes like wings of a phoenix, the feeling of love you forced yourself to keep inside was fighting back against your will. You averted your gaze in hopes the heat rising in your chest and your face would subside, but even though you stood at Shoto’s right hand, that wasn;t enough to cool the flames. He noticed your sudden change of focus through the movement reflected on the water, and that's when his focus shifted, shifted to meet yours.

When your eyes connected to the brown and blue of his, you couldn’t help but take notice of just how beautiful he truly was. The way his scar emphasized the brightness of his left eye, the way of how they sparkled just as the stars did against the pond you currently stood near. Your mind had become so utterly consumed by your admiration, his words of concern passed right through you.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He spoke softly, the time of night affecting his tone. He waved his hand slightly in front of your eyes, breaking the trance you were trapped inside. His pupils were blown out a slight bit more, his eyebrows furrowed together like they tend to be. You nodded your head, bringing yourself back to reality. Shoto brought his hand down to your elbow, slowly ushering you back to the sidewalk. What happened in the following ten seconds seemed to span for eons. Shoto turned to walk back, still keeping his grip on your arm, gentle but stern. Before you could stop yourself your hand pulled on his shoulder lightly, his attention back to you. Your hand found its way to his chin and his grip on your arm tightened in the smallest bit.

“Wha-”

Your lips cut off his protest of confusion, your eyes squeezed shut as his eyes flew open wider than ever before. You hand caressed his jaw gently as his grip on your arm fell entirely. This connection and such deep affection that was poured into that single kiss was nearly three years of confined emotions, the crave and depth of your love finally sprung free from your soul. But as you enjoyed the brief moment, your senses began to override your heart. You suddenly remembered that what was between you and Shoto was nothing more or less of a close and two way friendship. You were the first to pull away, although the look on Shoto’s face when you finally came back down from your high, he looked as if he had pulled away first.

“Sho, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happ- I shouldn't have done that please-” You rambled on as you took a step back, shame replacing the flames that were there just seconds before.

“Let’s go home, it’s late.” He cut in, his voice possessing an edge it wouldn’t normally.

“Sho please-” you pleaded, but were cut off once more.

“Y/n, please.”

The way he said your name, the motion of his back turned to you waiting for you to follow, it was enough for you to realize this was territory that shouldn’t be touched. And so instead of trying to explain yourself or make sense of what the hell just happened, you both made your way back to your house in complete and utter silence. The street lights and stars your only guide through the wordless lack of warmth. For the first time ever within your connection to Shoto, the silence couldn’t even be described as uncomfortable. It was absolutely unbearable.

Shoto had made sure you made it inside your house before walking down two blocks to his own. The usual goodnight text you received, the reminder to actually sleep, never danced across your phone screen. The conversation labeled with his name remained silent and only held the traces of the goodnight text from the night before. You couldn’t recall crying or ever falling asleep, but you remembered feeling the dampness of your pillow as you woke up the morning after.

Monday soon rolled around and you were in the middle of gathering your things for school. You couldn’t deny you were nervous to repeat your normal routine of walking to school with Shoto, but you decided the least you could do was try. You packed an extra snack for him just in case, just as he did for you on days where you were particularly struggling. You were in the middle of slipping on your shoes when a knock was heard on the door. Your parents left for work before you even woke and so that left you to answer. You expected it to be your neighbor or a local vendor, but there he stood. His uniform nicely pressed, his tie nice and straight, and his hair perfectly parted down the middle, not a single strand of white mixing with red.

“Sho! We don’t have to start walking for another half hour what are-”

“Let’s take a walk. We should talk.” He stated quite plainly, turning and walking down the steps of your porch and waiting quietly on the sidewalk.

You quickly regained your bearings and your bag and made your way to his side as your steps fell in time with his. He began to lead you through a left turn when you two would usually turn right. This is the long way to school, you thought. Maybe he really did finally have something to say. You weren;t sure if you actually were ready to hear it. it all depended on how he felt about your affections. Your fear of rejection still failed to waver even after the act of courage you displayed two days before.

Without knowing, you were walking on Shoto’s right side that day, closest to the street. Shoto only noticed as you accidentally bumped his side as you moved away from a speeding car. Without a word, he placed his hands on your biceps and moved you to his left, putting distance between you and the street. Your breath caught in your throat as he did this, the action that was so natural in any other circumstance. But in this moment in time, it showed that the connection between you two was still there and it held through the tense air that filled the space between.

Suddenly, Shoto stopped. His movements stopped entirely just a few strides in front of you. You as well came to standstill, your gaze connecting to the back of his school blazer. Then, as if the world had suddenly started to move in slow motion, Shoto turned and faced you. His hands flew to the sides of your jaw, his fingers placed behind your ears and at the curve where your jaw meets the start of your neck. His lips crashed into yours, the force behind them angry but warm, much more force than yours had conveyed. He didn’t back away, his eyes were shut as his lips explored yours. The electric that ran through his fingertips and danced across your shoulders and down your arms, spurring into your fingertips. Your hands came up to grip the front of his blazer, trying to ground yourself and not disassociate from this moment. But as quickly as it started, his lips left yours, Shoto pulling away first this time. Both of you heaved, your chests falling and rising rapidly. Saliva glistened across your lips, your own pupils blown out along with his. He brushed his bangs from his vision, focusing his hazed eyes back to you. His silence was broken as he breathed out something similar to a confession and an explanation.

“Y/n I’m gonna talk. And let me say it all before I forget please.” You nodded your head and the intensity your eyes held was enough of an indication that you were ready to hear it all. Shoto was ready to let down his iron wall completely, and welcome you into his heart that was so sheltered it didn’t know what it was necessarily welcoming.

“Look, I’m so sorry for blowing you off and dismissing the kiss that night. I should’ve at least said something, anything. But please understand that rash acts of affection is something I don’t know how to process. You know me and you know how I grew up. The last time I was ever shown any sort of physical love was from my mother, and I was five when she was taken away. I had been feeling a certain way whenever I would spend time with you. My chest would tighten and it seemed as if my heart was going to leap out on my throat. I could feel the heat of my left side intensify, it spreading to my right whenever you smiled at me. I have never felt this way, I never have felt anything close to this. I don’t even know what it is, but it draws me to you. It’s as if I’m being pulled by an unknown force that surrounds you. And it scared me, I was terrified to indulge in this feeling because it was so strange to me. A knot was constantly tightening in my stomach, and when you kissed me it snapped. And it shocked me, the feeling shocked my common sense entirely. I don’t understand this and I don’t know why. I feel these things for you but my body isn;t capable of processing it. And I could see that hurt you, and I’m sorry. I- I just need time. I still don’t know what this is. I can;t say it’s love because I’ve never loved anyone. But I’m trying to understand it because I know one thing. I care about you and I want to always be there to care about you. I feel for you beyond the feelings of a friendship. Maybe this could be love that I feel, but I’m still trying to figure that out. What I’m trying to say is that I want to love you. I’ll teach myself how to do that. But please be patient with me, let me understand these feelings.”

As his voice trailed off, your mind held onto one specific detail he spoke about. It all made sense now. His reaction made so much sense and you cursed yourself for not realizing it before. Shoto wasn;t shown the same love you were as a child, therefore his heart and mind aren’t equipped to process such strong acts of affection. You were, you were shown that extent of love, even if it was just a little. His heart was completely overwhelmed, and his entire ability to reciprocate that affection was held back by those iron walls. Something you failed to realize was that those iron walls don’t only keep feelings out, they also keep his own emotions in. And that kiss that night broke the walls and those pent up emotions flooded his body, rendering him unable to explain his bluntness. It all finally made sense.

“I’ll wait Shoto. I get it, I should’ve known. But I’ll be here to help you understand those feelings. I’ll be as patient for as long as you need because I’m able to understand my own emotions. And from that I know that I love you.” You spoke gently, cupping his hand between yours, silietly promising to be there to help his iron walls come down.

And with that, you pulled him to your chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, his gripping around your shoulders. As you embraced, Shoto vowed that he would work to understand, work to tear down the iron walls around his heart, he would do this all until he could say he loved you too.

Back to present day, nearly a year later. You and Shoto had made your way to the UA campus, about to split to different ends of the hall. His arm was wrapped snugly around your waist as he pulled you closer. His lips connected to your temple as he mumbled something about remembering to eat the sandwich he had given you that morning. You simply nodded and hugged around his waist before he pulled away. You waved him off as he began to walk his own route to class. And before you started to walk your own way, you called out to him just as his back turned.

“I love you sho.” You said loud enough for him to hear, but not so much for everyone in the halls with you two to turn their heads. He turned back around, his bangs hanging low over his two toned eyes, his scar peeking out from behind as he smiled faintly at you.

Shoto waved to you subtly as he mouthed back, “I love you too.”

There it was. You could almost hear the crash of his iron walls fall.

He holsted his bag once more and disappeared into the crowd of your fellow peers. You also began your commute as you smiled extremely brightly to yourself. His iron walls had finally come down, and his heart accepted this emotion now as something it knew. Shoto only knew the feeling of true love because he knew you, and your heart expanded because you knew him. And you now also knew everything hidden behind the walls of his mind and heart. Your guys’ love entirely constructed from the broken fragments of iron that Shoto broke down piece by piece.

>>>>>>

a/n pt. two: gonna take the time to explain why i struggled with this piece. it wasn’t because i didn’t like the prompt or i didn’t have inspiration from it. it was solely based on the fact that i’m terrible at writing love stories! also todoroki is such a complex character and i haven’t completely analyzed him like i have with bakugou and deku and kirishima. that’s why this piece was a little rougher than ones i’ve written for bakugou. nonetheless, i love this story and id love to see shoto smile again :,)

[chroma-ki]

What Happens When Society Fails Those Who Could Succeed - A Bakugo Katsuki Analysis

I started this a while ago, but I’ve seen others delve into this topic and I wanted to share as well. This delves into to hero society’s affects on Bakugo Katsuki’s upbringing, his worldview, his self-view, and Izuku’s involvement in breaking down the ideas society has drilled into his head. 

A lot of people like to ignore the fact that Katsuki is a 14-year-old kid at the start of the series and that much of his life, attitude and disposition of the world have been completely shaped by the adults and society around him. 

What do you expect a kid with potential to turn into when they are warped in such a way by a society that dictates that they need to be strong, or nothing at all? What about when your only value is based around a sliding scale of strength and weakness? What happens when that kid’s only source of help comes in the form of a reckless, selfless child who defies all sense of logic and reason (Izuku)?

Growing up, Bakugo was constantly praised for being strong, having a powerful quirk and being generally the smartest person in the room at any given time. He could arguably be considered a prodigy, and much of what he sees and learns feels beneath him -- because it's already on his mind. He is a kid with natural god-given talent that everyone around him immediately recognizes as above average. 

Even as a toddler, he was constantly a step ahead of everyone else. Due to this, people developed a lot of high expectations for him at a young age -- and it doesn't help that he has a naturally competitive streak that makes him constantly want to prove himself and live up to these expectations; even surpass them.

Always being at the top of his class and being ahead of the curve mentally fuel the idea in Katsuki's mind that, in the game of life, he is 'winning'. Yet, at the same time, none of it is ever enough. Other's high expectations of him cause him to build extremely high expectations of himself; expectations that border on unrealistic. They also inflate his ego exponentially when this praise gets reaffirmed time and time again.

Certainly, in a situation where you're raised on other people's praise and validation, it is completely understandable that you would put a lot of emotional emphasis on other people's opinions of you. On top of that, he gives off such a natural and convincing air of confidence that people can't help but feel that he is reliable, despite his attitude. People are awed by him, and all of it feeds into the mental image he has constructed of himself, and the world as a whole. It's the whole reason for a lot of how he acts. He builds an image of himself based on the praise of those around him -- and even Izuku also feeds into this mentality by worshipping the literal ground Katsuki walks on as a kid.

This mentality seems to be working fine for him until Izuku's very presence starts to throw a wrench into everything Katsuki has been raised to believe. 

Izuku completely defies logic to Katsuki. Izuku does not fit the societal norm and, beyond what others have taught him, Izuku is Katsuki’s only real hint that the world might not be quite what he thinks it is, and that his idea of what it means to be strong may not be a ‘one-size fits all’ defenition.

Izuku is a quirkless kid; weak and generally mild-mannered. He doesn't have any self-confidence and is a big crybaby. Yet, Izuku still believes that he can be strong and become a hero -- when Katsuki has always been told the opposite. Katsuki recognizes that this may be some version of strength he is unaware of, and it raises BIG RED FLAGS in his mind.

Where many of Katsuki's other childhood friends were barely more than acquaintances who he forgot over time, Izuku immediately caught Katsuki's interest and spiked his curiosity. Like everyone else in his life, Izuku praised Katsuki and told him all the things he wanted to hear -- but Izuku was also unique and intelligent. Izuku was the first person who actually seemed like they could stand near Katsuki's level; like they might be actual competition. 

Then, Bakugo got his quirk and Izuku is diagnosed as quirkless. The reactions of everyone around him to this news, including Izuku’s own reaction, only go back to telling him what society has told him all along. Strength is everything, and quirks are a part of that desired strength. This is another moment that reaffirms Katsuki's world view. "I won, you lose. I really am the best."

Though Bakugo is super aggressive on the outside, he is a very self-critical character and often means the opposite of whatever he is saying. Especially when it comes to his self-confidence and bravado. 

People often complain when watching the series about him telling people to 'die' and "got to hell", or calling other people "extras", and I don't think enough people understand -- that is just how he speaks. Those are things he says out of reflexive anger. None of those words ever have any real meaning. 

It's more important to pay more attention to the moments in which he is more reserved/quiet. He suffers from both a superiority complex and inferiority complex, as well as paranoia (much of which revolves around his warped idea of how Deku, and other people he values, perceive him). Much of what he says is just empty words or him trying to project an image of self-confidence.

He wears his pride like a suit of armor to hide all the things he doesn't want to admit about himself. He attempts to make up for his own insecurities by getting angry. And he learned this at home from his mother, who is much the same as him.

From the little that we have seen of his parents throughout the series so far, his parents love him and provide him with everything he could possibly need -- but his mother often insults him and throws harsh truths in his face to counteract his cocky nature. One of the most notable instances of this is when All Might and Aizawa are talking to his parents about moving the kids to the dorms and his mom says "If you hadn't have gotten yourself caught by the villains in the first place, none of this would have happened".

That comment feeds directly into his mental breakdown in front of Izuku where he blames himself for All Might's downfall, flat out saying that "If I hadn't been kidnapped by villains, then it never would have happened".

It gets me every time if you go back to the 8th episode of the series, near the VERY BEGINNING -- right after he's defeated by Deku for the first time in combat training -- and the episode literally starts with him having a full on panic attack. 

He's trembling, hands shaking, hyperventilating, the whole deal. And that particular incident was triggered not only by Deku defeating him and standing up to him (which completely contradicts the Izuku that Bakugo has grown up with all his life and feeds into Bakugo's own fear that he is weak), but is also brought on by the fact that he notices how severely Deku allowed himself to be injured JUST TO WIN THE EXCERSIZE. Again, this idea that even the weak can be strong. It also doesn’t help that he cares about Izuku and doesn’t want to see him get hurt.

And I'm sorry -- but below does not look like the face of someone who's pissed off to me. He looks PETRIFIED.

Izuku doesn't just piss Bakugo off -- Izuku TERRIFIES him.

There are actually multiple instances of him reacting like this to Izuku injuring himself throughout the series: sludge villain, sports festival fight against Todoroki and the training camp where Bakugo was kidnapped being the major ones I can think of beyond current managa events. Bakugo may claim to ‘hate’ Deku, but he DOES NOT like to see Deku hurt himself to win, or to save. 

Bakugo saw this 'self-sacrificing' trait in Izuku even as a young kid, and it freaked him out. It made him feel weak. It made him question himself and the world around him.

This fear starts with the incident where Bakugo fell off the log as a kid. 

It wasn't a life threatening situation, but it was the first situation where Izuku rushed to Bakugo's aid with complete disregard to himself AND when everyone else refused to help. 

Bakugo's friends, teachers and parents all held him to such high expectations of intelligence, power and strength -- so of course those would be the values that he grows up idolizing. No one ever really offered him help, because they assumed he didn't need it -- and then Izuku comes rushing in offering it to him, risking his life to do so, and Katsuki's only thought is "Why?! Why do you feel like you have to save me when you can't even protect yourself? Needing to be saved means that I'm weak! Do you think that I'm weak?" I have recently watched another show that had a similar scenario and that character explained what I believe Katsuki felt in this situation BEAUTIFULLY.  ------ “It felt like [he] was trying to say I was weak or something. [He] was intruding on feelings [he] didn’t have any right to – and I hated it. Then that got me thinking about everyone else in my life. They never treated me like I was a weakling; someone who needed his hand held. They had faith that I would continue to grow and they let me do it; helping me without ever making me feel weak.” 

Izuku continues to do this again and again throughout the series when it comes to Bakugo: the slime villain incident, the training camp, etc -- all without fully comprehending how his actions affect Bakugo. Each time this happens, Bakugo feels weak and utterly helpless to save himself OR to stop Izuku. It's all his worst fears realized.

It's like living his worst nightmare over and over without end in sight.

Going back to the concept of him being offered 'help', very few people have offered him this throughout his life -- and they all saw it as something he never really needed. It's like Katsuki's personality and mental state is a huge sign screaming 'I DON'T UNDERSTAND! NOTHING MAKES SENSE! IT MAKES ME MAD AND UPSET! SOMEONE, HELP ME.' and everyone just ignores it.

--- During the log incident - all his friends say 'Oh well, he's fine. He'll pick himself back up.' and Izuku is the only one who offers to help. 

--- The sludge villain incident - all the pro heroes say "We can't help right now! You'll just have to hold on, kid!" and again Izuku is the only one who offers help.

--- After his and Deku’s first fight at Ground Beta, which utterly breaks him, all the other students just let him leave alone and only Izuku rushes to help. All Might sees him upset and crying after this and says, “Oh, I guess he’s already over it” -- when that obviously wasn’t the case. 

--- And then -- to top it all off -- after he was kidnapped by the LOV and held captive for 3 days without help he wasn't even given time to process! He was taken away by police, ridiculed by his mother, forced to go back to school where his teachers acted like nothing happened, jumped into the provisional hero licensing exam with all those helpless feelings rolling around inside of him and on top of it found out that Izuku received All Might's power -- a power that he had spent his whole life putting on a pedestal. And he goes to Izuku for help.

The fact that everyone just brushed him off like he was someone who didn't need help is just disgusting. The only instance where an adult in his life acknowledged that he needed it was AFTER he already had a full on mental breakdown in front of Izuku, blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong and thinking that he had somehow been living his life wrong all this time. Only then did All Might and Aizawa think, ‘Yeah, maybe we failed this kid.’ 

Keep in mind during all of this that he is 15-16-years-old! He's trying to figure out how to deal with this shit all on his own, with the only person he feels comfortable opening up to being Izuku - someone who he has so much trouble understanding.

At the heart of Katsuki is a place of fear. Fear of being weak, fear of being helpless, fear of failure, fear of losing his friends, fear of himself, most certainly fear of Izuku -- and fear FOR IZUKU. He is a boy who lives in a constant state of panic, worry and paranoia. He is lonely and beats down on himself a lot.

The series deals a lot with how hero society has completely failed it's future generations, but Katsuki is a case where they should have succeeded -- yet ultimately they failed him too. He has all the makings of what could be one of the greatest heroes of all time, yet those around him only focused on the parts of him that could make him great and chose to ignore all the parts that would ruin him from the inside out. 

They put him high up on a pedestal only to knock him down and refuse to help him back up. They made him feel like even asking for help was something that made him 'lesser', and it caused him to see other people that way too.

Izuku is the heart of Katsuki's growth, because in every way that Izuku succeeds, Katsuki fails. 

I would actually argue that out of anyone in the series since coming to UA, Katsuki has experienced the highest amount of personal failure. He has been knocked down time and time again but ultimately wants to pick himself back up to prove that he deserves to be there. He fights for his friends and tries his best at everything he does. He doesn't always get it right, and he says things that might offend others, but other than Izuku, he's the most driven person there and would utterly destroy himself to reach his goals.

[minniepetals]

Rose & Thorns: 01

— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

— pairing: dragon!jungkook x reader / future!bts x reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au

— word count: 3.4k

— warnings: orphan reader, bits of insecurities kicked in here and there

╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

"Hi there."

In the dark and deep dungeon where Jungkook laid, his head perked up at the sound of a lady's voice and his brows furrowed. A girl? What was a girl doing in a part of the village where the villagers have deemed to be the most dangerous zone? Surely guards must have surrounded the area with tough security, right? So how did you manage to go past it?

"I'm Y/N," he heard the voice again and a soft scoff left him.

You were probably just there curious to see the dragon those infamous soldiers have managed to catch.

"I am..." you trailed off and he found himself waiting for what you had to say, "I am the keeper of the dragon."

Keeper.

He never imagined a girl to be a keeper.

"Damn, that sounds weird," he heard you mumble to yourself, a light chuckle leaving your lips. "But anyways," you went on, "it'll be just you and me for a while because no one else wanted to take up the role of the keeper except I. Which is fine, I've always wanted to take up a task as big as this. Oh, and you must be hungry so I brought you food. Trust me though, no one has poisoned it so don't be shy and starve yourself, alright?"

Shy, Jungkook scoffed to himself. What would a dragon ever be shy about? He could rip you to pieces if he wanted.

Too bad the chains around him kept him from escaping and doing anything rash.

He sighed, ignoring your ongoing ramblings and thought back on how in the world he managed to get caught in the first place.

His hyungs have always warned him about going hunting around the areas where humans settled but there was more prey there so he decided to take up the challenge. He should have told someone yet his rebellious side allowed him to go off on his own without a word to his own clan.

That was how the humans got to him, dragon hunters, they'd call themselves.

Stabbed on his arm as he was flying about the sky and near the ground. That didn't entirely weaken him but because of the fact that he was caught off guard and they held spears and ropes, Jungkook struggled to get away so, in the end, he woke up after being unconscious, locked up in some sort of dungeon with his neck chained up that extended to the wall to keep him from escaping.

The chain around his neck was hurting him far more than he expected but what could he do?

Maybe his clan would come looking for him. But with the fact that he had told no one where he was heading off to, Jungkook doubted they'd be able to track him down that easily.

"Are you alright?" You asked him the next day but he gave you no words. Still, despite his silence, you went on and on about all sorts of stories probably out of boredom.

He didn't know what you were doing, why you decided to take up the role of a keeper when everyone else in your village was in fear of him. Were you brave or just a fool? He had no idea what to conclude.

But for some reason, as the days passed and he was forced to listen to all of your endless stories, Jungkook was glad for your presence. Maybe it was the fact that he would have gone crazy if he wasn't around anyone for a while. Maybe because you actually sounded like someone who wasn't scared of him, someone who was a little different from those villagers, and someone who was treating him as a normal being.

Whatever it was, he was glad for your presence that replaced the warmth of his hyung's arms.

"You ate!" You rejoiced the second you came back early one morning.

It was funny how excited and happy you were about the fact that he actually ate something. He didn't know what you looked like because he never cared to head into the light, where you were, but your voice alone was sweet, something that told him you were a pure sweet being who enjoyed the little things in life.

You reminded him of Hoseok and Taehyung in that sense, and the feeling of nostalgia came rushing over him.

He missed home.

"Do you have a family?" You asked suddenly, sitting down at the exact same spot you would always sit at. "I had a family but they've gone and now my families are the villagers. But lately, they think I've gone crazy because I still haven't run away from this place and still visit it each and every day. But I'm not crazy, trust me!" He wanted to laugh at how defensive you were despite his silence. You were cute. "It's just that whatever job I am given, I never give up even if it gives me a hard time — not that this job is giving me a hard time, I actually enjoy this believe it or not."

Why is that? Jungkook wanted to ask.

And as if reading his mind, you answered "It's lonely back in the village. You don't talk much but that's alright, it's better to have a silent presence than abandonment and someone who rambles about how stupid and crazy I am."

Had something happened? Your voice was growing somber.

"I'm so sorry." It came out into a breathless whisper, as if you were recalling a lost memory, as if you were on the verge of crying. "I'm so sorry they've kept you locked up in here," you said. "Trust me, if I was the chief villager and had the power to have others nodding at my commands, I'd tell them to set you free."

What?

"I've already done it once but was cast away and told to just continue doing my job. They're so cruel," you mumbled through a pout. "You must have a family that misses you but I can't even do anything to help you except ramble on and on about useless things which aren't helpful at all. I'm so sorry."

Why were you apologizing when none of it had been your fault? Why were you blaming yourself for the villager's actions?

"Would you rather I kept silent instead of rambling? I'm so sorry, you must be annoyed with me, right? I can-"

"Don't."

You froze, head quick to shoot up upon hearing his voice for the first time. Jungkook was surprised too. He never thought he'd ever say a word, but the deeds were done so he convinced himself whatever, he had already spoken so he might as well do some more.

"Don't stop talking," he said again, "I like your voice...Y/N."

A small smile spreads across your face, creating a beaming glow and with just hearing his voice and pretty words, and a drop of tear fell from your eyes.

"R-really?" You asked, standing up from where you sat as you held the silver bars in front of you, trying to look for him. But it was too dark to see.

A long silence passed and then, light footsteps. Footsteps of a human walking and you held your breath.

Bit by bit, little by little, you watched with a piercing gaze, waiting until he finally walked into the light. Your breath hitched at the sight of a man around your age, shirtless with scars all over him from the events of when he had gotten caught and old scars from elsewhere.

He was handsome. So incredibly handsome. With a sharp gaze and jawlines that could cut straight through the silver bars.

When Jungkook saw you, he had to blink for a moment. He wasn't too surprised by your beauty. Your voice was incredibly sweet and pretty, matching your beautiful face. But he frowned at the trail of tears that had left your eyes and his heart ached.

"Why are you crying?" He asked you by the time he got closer and stood just in front of you with the bars being the only thing that kept you apart.

Jungkook wanted to reach out but he held back, knowing that that would have been incredibly rude towards a lady.

"I'm not crying," you quickly lied and went on to wipe away the tears that had been waiting to fall away.

"You're a horrible liar."

You cringed. "Am I?" Jungkook hummed, nodding. "It's just...it's the first time someone has told me they liked my voice."

He frowned. "No one else likes your voice?"

"It kind of gets annoying," you said, a small bitter smile appearing.

His heart ached at the once bubbly voice now gone due to the insecurities those villagers have drilled into you.

"Speak as much as you'd like," he told you. "Your voice calms me down, lets me know that I'm not alone."

"Well you're not alone," you declared, suddenly acting all heroic. He smiled at the energy. "As long as I'm here, you'll never be lonely. But let's hope it isn't for long because I want you to have your freedom soon."

He knew that he'd definitely miss you if he ever got that freedom again.

"Does it hurt?" You asked him the next day and Jungkook looked up from smacking on a mango. You gestured at his neck, where the chain stood and Jungkook gave you an awkward lopsided smile.

"Yeah," he admitted. "It weighs a lot, it's a burden but I'm a tough dragon so I'll be alright."

"Oh please," you scoffed, pouting a little, "even the biggest and strongest dragons get hurt."

That next day, you came back with some ointment and treatments in a basket along with his meals.

"You told me it wouldn't hurt!" Jungkook hissed the moment you applied the ointment on him, stinging his wounds.

"I told you it'd sting just a little!" You argued. "Now stop moving around, it's hard enough treating your wounds with bars in our way, don't make it harder."

"But it hurts," the young dragon whined and you laughed aloud, making him pout.

"I thought you were a big and strong dragon."

"Even the biggest and strongest dragons get hurt."

The two of you smiled at his words, a reminder of the day before.

You came back a few minutes later with a pair of clothes you managed to steal from one of the village boys. They wouldn't notice, they had plenty of clothes to spare and you needed Jungkook to have clothes so that he could at least keep warm for the chilly nights.

"What happened to your shirt?" You asked him as he placed the shirt on top of him. He was masculine, so bulk with abs that could make you full for days. But you looked away before he could notice your stare, lightly slapping yourself in the face for such imaginations.

"I guess they must've stripped it off me when I was unconscious."

Them, as in the village soldiers. You didn't like the soldiers, they were too cocky especially after capturing Jungkook. One was even consistent on trying to steal your heart, deeming himself worthy because he was part of the party that struck upon the dragon.

"Oh, I forgot!" You suddenly recalled and was quick to jump onto your feet. "I'll bring you one of my warmest blankets so that you don't have to-"

"You're leaving?"

You blinked at the disappointed sound of his voice and kept yourself from leaving just yet.

"The night can get really chilly. I'm worried about you," you told him.

But Jungkook shook his head. "I can go on another day without a warm blanket, Dragons have thick skin. But can you stay here?" He asked, eyes a little shy with a small blush painted on his cheeks. "I don't like being lonely."

"Oh."

You smiled. No one had really appreciated or even acknowledge your presence until Jungkook came along. So you stayed, sat down again and nodded.

The days went on and on like that, some bickering and little fights here and there but for the most part, the two of you got along and a friendship was growing.

But because of that, you became the center of attention when you weren't in the dungeon visiting Jungkook. The villagers would stare and talk to and about you about all sorts of things. Some deemed that Jungkook used his "powers" to keep you in there for so long every time you'd visit. There were all sorts of rumors going around and you tried to pay no mind, continuing on your task as the keeper of the dragon.

"One day, I'll free you," you told the man.

"Don't hurt yourself just for me. The villagers will turn on you."

"Why does it matter?" You shrugged. "They don't care about me except for my role of keeping an eye on a dragon. I am your keeper, Jungkook, and as your keeper, I vow to free you one day soon."

"You're a rose, Y/N," Jungkook said, eyes filled with concern for you, "and roses shouldn't try to be a thorn."

"But roses carry thorns," you argued, eyes filled with determination. "I can be brave, trust me."

"I know you can, dear one." He sighed a sad sigh. "But I'm telling you, don't hurt yourself for me."

Jungkook knew that bit by bit, he was falling for you and for a moment, he had almost forgotten about the six dragons back at home. Almost.

But he knew that in the end, it wasn't right. He was given his own mates already, ones he knew he would betray the world for without a split second of hesitation. Yet as he stared at your sad face that became more and more apparent as the days went on, Jungkook had this desiring urge to protect you from your own insecurities and the things the villagers have said about you. He knew they must have said or done something to you for you to walk into the dungeon with a face that darkened of a cloudy sky.

The longer he sat there in the dungeon waiting every night for you to return every morning, the easier it was to pick up on your fake smiles and real laughter, the easier it was for him to fall.

Yet it was forbidden to yearn for you. Not only did he have his own mates waiting for him back at home but he knew that it would be best for you to be with a man that was your own kind. A human. And the bars that separated him from ever reaching towards you reminded him each and every day.

A few nights later, Jungkook woke up at the sound of keys rattling and his head shot up with alarm, afraid it had been some soldier.

"Jungkook!"

At the sound of your harsh whisper, his brows furrowed. "Y/N what the heck are you doing?" He asked, running over towards the bar and holding onto them tightly as he stared at you with fright.

"I told you I'd set you free one day," you simply stated and then, the door opened.

He stood there frozen for the longest time, contemplating on what to do while you rushed over to his side to unlock the chains that kept him locked in. He didn't know whether to pounce onto you with a hug or scream at you to leave. He didn't know what to do. And had the doors truly opened for him to escape out of?

The second you dragged the chain off his neck, Jungkook felt free for the first time in forever, a weight taken off of him after such a long while. Literally.

"Don't cry," you told him, wiping away the tears he hadn't realized were there. Your hands were so soft, the way you cupped his face in such a gentle way. He always imagined your touches would be as gentle and soft as your heart.

Jungkook cried because your hands reminded him of the gentle touches he's once been used to from his mates, the hyungs that have always loved and taken care of him, the hyungs who were probably worried in fear each passing day, wondering whether their maknae was still alive or not. But he didn't cry just for him, he cried for you. A pure soul, a human he never knew would care so much to the point where she was saving him by risking her own life.

"We have to go, Kook, before they find out I've stolen the keys."

You took his hand into his, rough and larger, and the two of you ran into the deepest part of the forest until you finally stopped after deeming that it was finally a safe distance from your village.

"Go home, Kook," you smiled at him but he could see the glistening tears in your eyes under the moonlight.

"What about you?" He asked, holding your face in his large hands as he wiped the tears away. He'd always wanted to do that, to hold you close to him and finally he was given that chance. No bars in between to keep you apart. "They'll know that it was you who freed me, you're the only crazy one who'd free a dragon."

"I know," you chuckled through the tears, trying to make light of things. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't." A tear slipped from his eyes. "They'll kill you, Y/N, they'll have you executed for losing a prized possession of theirs."

"I..I know." Your voice shook and you both cried a little more. "Transform now, Kook, before they find the both of us here."

He didn't want to but he knew that you were right. So lingering his fingers on you for a moment longer, not wanting to let go, he smiled at you before stepping back and then, you watched as the man in front of you transformed into the creature the villagers have come to fear and deemed the most dangerous creature in all of the lands.

When he looked back at you, eyes of a golden sun, you reached out with your hands to hold the beautiful dark scales on him, something none of the villagers would ever dare to do. But you weren't any of the villagers, you were Y/N, and Jungkook knew that Y/N was far braver and sweeter than any of those villagers.

Those eyes were still the same ones Jungkook always held despite his true dragon form and you smiled at the beautiful sight in front of you.

A loud uproar was quick to having you flinching and Jungkook looked towards the sound.

"They've found us," you gasped, turning your head back at him with alarm. "You have to leave now."

He hesitated but you were so insistent on him leaving. "Go, Jungkook. Don't let my freeing you go to waste or we'll both get executed."

"I won't let them hurt you," he vowed, "I won't let them lay a hand on you."

"Kook-"

"You saved my life, Y/N," he cut you off, "it's my turn to save yours."

You looked at him in confusion, wondering what that meant.

"Climb on my back, Y/N, ride the wind with me."

"What? Jungk-"

"Come to my village with me," he said, voice a little more desperate. "Come to my clan."

"Your clan?"

The shouting was nearing louder and louder.

"Come with me."

He lent you his back, large wings flared out and silently asking you to climb onto it so that you could reach his back.

You took a moment to look back at the loud voices that came closer and closer and then back at the eyes that had been home to you more than the village had ever been. And then, without another moment of hesitation, you climbed onto Jungkook's back and his wings flapped a few times to get themselves ready to take flight.

Yet at that moment, a bow came flying by and you were hit right near the chest, near your heart, making your body fall back and off Jungkook's back, onto the hard ground with a harsh thud.

Freedom so close yet so far away.

Jungkook growled at the soldiers that stood a few yards away, his eyes growing red at the sight of you weak and vulnerable.

His voice raged into the night sky, a cry so loud and booming that it could be heard from far, far away. He flung his tail at them, causing the soldiers to fly a few yards back.

He turned to you, whimpers leaving your lips and held you under his claws safely and securely, and then, Jungkook flew off into the night sky, riding the wind with you in hand.

[ktheist]

in another life (i would be your man)

muses. hero!yoongi / assassin!yoongi / father!yoongi / lawyer!yoongi

word. 2.5k

genre. reincarnation au

x

time and time again, you find yourselves in the other’s absolute mercy.

mercy, which both of you know, the other will not grant.

“have you any last words, hero?” the grass shrivels up around yoongi all because hot air wilts the greenest of life.

a single bead of sweat trickles down the side of yoongi’s face as he looks at you without a shred of fear in the face of death.

“all the gold you’re hoarding... does it bring you happiness?” he says, as though already finding serendipity before you can even drive your talon into his chest.

“happiness!” you roar, mockery dripping off your word, “such humanly sentiments. you forgot who you’re speaking to, hero.”

“yoongi... yoongi’s my name” he sighs softly, eyelids fluttering shut, “say it.”

it is you who fall silent this time.

to say the name of the soul who’s bound to you not for love but for destruction... have you the right?

in your last life, a good few hundred years ago, he’s the one that drove the cross into your chest.

in the one before that, you burn him at the stakes for the wretched powers he held.

in this lifetime, even the armor made of the silver cannot withstand the weight of your paw, talon digging into his chest as he lays underneath you, ready to accept the heroic death.

“very well, if not in this lifetime, then perhaps the next...”

you live for three human lifetimes as the great dragon who brought the continent together. the humans, without their hero, are mere mortals. they learned better than to put their faith in one man.

in the next lifetime, you find yourself kneeling in front of a silver haired man - what a striking hair color for someone who’s supposed to be on the low.

“my hand’s gonna slip,” that gravelly voice still sends shivers down your spine.

“what-” you breathe out, eyebrows knitting together.

he takes his aim.

but there’s something wrong.

the angle he’s pointing at will graze your cheek and ear at most.

then he shoots.

when the bullet bounces against the cement somewhere a few inches away behind you, your body moves on its own. your leg sweep out to send him tumbling down onto the ground. your thighs pin his hips down so he can’t get up and you push the gun farther beyond his reach.

“why are you doing this?” you hiss, knife against his throat.

“don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to be happy?” yoongi says simply, too complacent for a man who’s about to lose yet another life to his enemy.

“that’s not how it works,” teeth gritted together, you press the dulled side of the knife harder against his snow-kissed flesh.

“then, how does it work?” he asks.

for a moment, you’re frozen in place. then you’re taken back to where it all begins.

you were a queen who poisoned her king before proceeding to ruin the kingdom until it remains but a memory to those who’ve lived through your tyrannical era. yoongi was the crown prince from a small country who enticed you into his chambers and kept you locked in a tower like a caged bird while he went to war with the neighboring kingdom with your kingdom’s army.

“i- i hated you for seducing me and locking me up in that tower,” you murmur, breath shaky, “a- and you hated me because i-i couldn’t be killed... because i was...”

“a blood sucker.” he finishes for you.

a flash of anger crosses your eyes and paint your vision red. you press the knife harder - no doubt there would be a bruise, “no matter how immortal i was... i died because of a broken heart. you killed me!”

“i was breaking my own heart for having to keep you locked in that tower but if i let you go...” he trails off, his hand coming to settle on yours.

it’s the first time you hear him choke up.

“so many died because of our love,” yoongi’s voice comes out barely above whisper.

“your sin is mistaking hate for love,” you flick your wrist, switching the side of the blade pressed against his neck to one that could cut through clean and swift.

but before you can seal yet another lifetime of your surviving, a sharp pain cuts into your arm, forcing you to release the blade, your free hand cupping the familiar circular wound that’s gushing with blood.

you push yourself off him, going over the ledge and jumping off to your safety. and yoongi’s left in the cold, night air, the coms in his ear buzzing back to life.

it’s six months later that he finds you, dressed in deep red, smiling seductively as you cling on a man twice your age. all of a sudden, he finds himself ignoring whatever his partner’s saying in the coms and approaching you and the man.

yoongi can barely remember what he said but he remembers the overwhelming feeling of relief when the man pushes you off and march out of the room, shouting russian vulgarities.

“planting a bullet hole in my arm isn’t enough, you just had to sabotage my mission, don’t you?” you’re on top of him once again but the ground isn’t cold and hard as he’s always remembered in the series of you pinning him down in differing lifetimes.

“have you thought about what i said?” he doesn’t look like he minds it anymore.

being pinned down by you, that is.

rather, yoongi quite likes the view of your cleavage when you lean down close enough to whisper into his hears, “i reflected on my past mistakes... and truly, i wish nothing more than to have you gone from my sight once and for all.”

then his index finger ghosts over the softest protrusion of the healed up scar on your arm. and you feel goosebumps on your skin.]

you leave in the morning, slipping out of the hotel room in that skin tight maroon dress, noticing the woman in the lobby, looking like what you would’ve looked like if you were waiting for your partner who went against orders and checked into a room in the very same hotel he was supposed to eliminate his target at.

sloppy. fucking sloppy.

yoongi never sees you after that. he got reprimanded and almost got eliminated by his own agency if it hadn’t been his father, the head of the extermination department who pulled some strings and buried the matter.

it’s a surprise he’s still alive at the age of of thirty-one, owning a lawfirm of his own and living the life he’s never thought he’d have.

a normal one.

then, he spots you, walking down the sidewalk holding a toddler’s hand and smiling down at him like he’s the most precious thing you’ve ever hold dear to.

“stop the car,” yoongi orders.

“s-sir?” the driver, surprised by the sudden request, hesitates.

“pull over!” it’s the first time the young man has ever hear his boss raise his voice.

so he does just that, but a block away from where yoongi last saw you.

he runs as fast as his legs could carry him. but the sidewalk is empty of a woman holding a child’s hand.

it takes another year of him searching records of faces and names. for you have many and unlike yoongi, he’s sure you have no one to pull the strings and make one blunder disappear.

then he finds you, under a pseudonym, of a certain kim hana whose child is named kim youngsoo.

“it’s me,” he announces, stepping into the light that pours past the window and over not even half of the room.

“mommy, can we order pizza?” youngsoo’s lively voice rings from outside of the room.

“yeah, why don’t you decide what toppings you want and i’ll be out there in a sec, sweetie,” your voice sounds heavenly - none of the guarded strain that he usually hears. but your eyes, they look like the eyes of a woman who would give everything to protect her most precious possession.

“so it was you... one year ago,” you say, ambling to the dresser where yoongi easily finds out your motive.

“the gun’s not there anymore, you really think i’d break into the house of an ex-assassin and not think to look for weapons tacked up somewhere out of sight?” he hears the frustrated sigh you make before you stand with your feet apart.

looks like you believe his words.

looks like you’ve got no problems taking him on with bare hands.

“he’s mine, isn’t he?”

a scoff.

“you’re pretty dumb if you think one night’s all it takes to get pregnant with your bastard child.”

“who’s the father, then? why isn’t he around?” he presses on.

and his questions have always been intrusive but you notice the weight of his every inquiry. as if he’d drop dead right this instant if you don’t answer them.

“he walked away, couldn’t accept that we had to always be on the move just because he had a baby with a wanted woman.”

and it’s not the police that wants you.

“his social security number?” yoongi shoots you another question.

“i don’t know. i don’t remember,” you say simply, a shrug accompanying your answer.

“number one rule of being an assassin: never forget anything,” yoongi recites easily, even after five years, he still recalls the drilling his mentor forced him through, “so that leaves us with one possibility: he doesn’t exist, this ex of yours.”

“mooooom.” youngsoo calls out, sounding too close for comfort.

“just a minute, sweetie. why don’t you take my phone out of my bag and get ready to dial up the number to the pizza place?” there’s a lightness in your tone.

envy wraps around yoongi’s heart before he even realizes it. how he wished you’d speak to him in that delicate, loving tone as well.

“look, i’m tired, i’m done playing games, i’ve been done since that night. i know i fucked up and i know some day i’ll pay for it but not tonight... tonight... at least let me have one last night with my kid.”

it’s the way the word ‘my’ and ‘kid’ fall naturally off your mouth that makes yoongi realize that he’s the one stuck in the beginning all along. that he’s the one who couldn’t move on from the past even though he sought to change the present and threw your world upside down when he decided not to take the shot.

before he can say anything, you’re already out of the door but he senses no rush in your footsteps.

“do you have the pizza place’s number down?” there it is again, the soft, tender tilt in your voice.

it’s a little faint but he hears it clearly.

and it may very well just be a trick to make him sympathize but what is he to sympathize with when he’s only here to ask for confirmation?

why do you treat him like death who’s finally come to take back your borrowed time?

well, the answer was simple.

“i paid off the bounty,” yoongi meets you at a cafe where he knows you’ll feel safer.

no assassin will make a move in broad daylight, in public, with his face out for the cameras to record.

“how much?” you sound like you just got another loan tying you down.

“enough that they can’t resist,” he states.

and before you can even say anything, he goes on, “i want to see him.”

“no.” you say curtly.

“he’s my child too.” he slides the white envelope he pulls out of his pocket to you.

it contains the dna results from the hair on the comb youngsoo complained he lost and yoongi’s own hair.

“he’s doesn’t need a father,” you don’t even give the envelope a second glance, “if that’s all-”

“that’s not for you to decide on your own,” he cuts you off.

it’s the firmness in his tone that makes your eyebrows rise. min yoongi has always been a gentle soul. even when he was driving a cross into your heart, he’d done it with the heaviest heart.

and for him to place his foot down like this - how very unlike him.

which is why, when he pulls, you pull harder.

“if you so much as appear in front of youngsoo, we will disappear and i’ll make sure you’ll never us again.”

and with that, you take out the blank check from your purse and slip it over to him. the check and the envelop laying side by side.

money isn’t the issue, you’ve managed to wire every single penny you have to different bank accounts before the agency could even freeze the one in seoul. it took several trips to japan, hong kong and china but you eventually got enough to start a new life with your new life.

and that new life of yours is being shaken by the presence of an entity of the past.

you begin noticing the men and women dressed in plain clothing standing a few feet away from where you and youngsoo go. they’re there, acting absolutely normal which makes it unnormal. always watching, always being on guard as if their lives depend on you and youngsoo’s security.

it goes on for another three months before you finally get tired of it and approach one of them, “call your boss over.”

youngsoo’s blowing bubbles at the park when a sleek black car pulls up at the curb and a familiar face steps out.

“you can see him every week on saturdays, one no-show and you’re out. also- i decide when he finds out,” you set the rules and yoongi looks like he a little kid who’s about to perform at his school’s talent show, “do we have a deal?”

“absolutely,” he nods readily.

yoongi’s hand moves on its own and he almost hooks his index finger around your pinky finger as if asking for some kind of emotional support. but he stops himself.

he walks beside you, watching as you walk out from under the shades of the tree, your expression instantaneously brightening when the sunlight hits, “youngsoo-ah,” you wave the toddler over.

his little legs comes running towards you, curious, bright eyes staring at yoongi and right through his soul. he’s never felt so bare and defenseless.

the only thing that keeps him from running away is the fondness in your voice. and the smile on your face that he’s never seen before, “youngsoo-ah, this is uncle yoongi, he’s mommy’s friend...”

yoongi musters the best smile he can - he never needed to try. it’s the people around him that force smiles to please him. never the other way around. never him having to smile so he wouldn’t scare off his son.

he crouches in front of the child that’s partially hiding behind you, “youngsoo-ah, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

[bodyswapmischief]

Carrying my Father's Weight

I can't believe the person I was looking at was me. I looked at myself in the mirror and I patted my beefy stomach. Although it might not seem like it, this was the fittest I've been, since puberty. I ended highschool weighing 280lbs. Coming into college I feared the freshman 15. But, I knew I couldn't let that happen. Now, I stand here weighing 220lbs. My first year of college completed and ready to go home. Even though I don't have abs yet, I can't wait to show off my progress.

However, I would be lying if I didn't say I dreaded going back and seeing my dad. He's not mean or abusive. In fact he was a really good dad. Growing up, it was just me and him. After my mom died, my dad's whole life changed. Instead of falling into a depression, he started working out. He transformed from average chubby dad body to hot as fuck personal trainer.

However his good genetics skipped me. As a kid I was skinny. But once puberty hit, my metabolism just went down the drain. And, I piled on weight non stop. It felt awkward being the fat son of a personal trainer. He tried hard to make me feel better about myself. We went to doctors but nothing worked. But, I still felt like shit looking at him walk around shirtless, get all the attention from my ladies, and be admired by my teachers and friends. Most people couldn't believe I was his son.

The worst part is that by the time I was a senior in highschool, we looked the same age. How is that possible, you wonder. I have know idea, and I would like the answer myself. It probably help he had me when he was young. He was 16 when he got my mom pregnant. But still, he looked like he was in his mid 20s. I on the other hand, probably, prematurely aged because how fat I was. Instead of looking 17, I looked like I was, also l, in my mid 20s. Most people thought we were brothers and a few people mistaked me for the older brother.

But, it wasn't all bad. Yeah, I did get made fun of, by my friends. But, looking older than my age made me popular. Having a full beard and beer belly was all the ID to by beer for all my friends to underage drink. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my time away from my dad. It was a nice break. But, in a way I missed him, too.

But, upon landing, I was looking at something I never expected to see. I saw my dad. But he was not the fit 200lb man of pure muscle. No, staring at me was as 300lb man of pure fat. His stomach is sagging. There are fat filled breast were his pecs once were. And, he begins to waddle his way towards me. His face looks aged ... more like a man in his late 40s. Yet, a smile on his fat filled face. I recognize that he is using my old clothes.

He tells me I look good, strong, and like I have been working out. But, I'm completely shocked. He ask me questions. And, I give mindless answers. For most of the ride home I stay silent. His tries to tell me that an injury caused him to have to stop working out. And, as soon as he stopped working out the weight just piled on. But, it doesn't make sense. And, after awhile I don't care if it makes sense. I'm finally the hot one. I start making some fat jokes. His face gets red, but he laughs. He tells me "I guessed I had those coming."

It was late when we got home and we both were incredibly tired. I took my stuff to my room and instantly lied on my bed. Ideas of hanging out with my friends and new fat dad filled my mind.

But, as the sun rose. I notice my body feels groggy and sore. My lower back is in so much pain. So, I tried to roll on my side. But, I struggle. My eyes shoot awake has I recognized the sensation. It like I am 280lbs again with a big belly in the way. I tear off the blankets and use all my energy to sit up. Ripped pieces of fabric, lay under my fat body. My belly hangs between my legs and my hairy breast sit on the shelf of my stomach. I look the fattest I ever have been. I look even fatter than my dad was yesterday. I start to notice that my body seems hairier and specks of grey are sprinkled in.

I waddle to the closest mirror and panic. I saw my face, but it looked older. I look like I was in my 40s. I went on the scale and it read 320lbs. This was in fact the biggest I have ever been. I squeezed into the biggest clothes, I had. But, now they are too tight. My sweat pants are skin tight. And my shirt doesn't fully cover my beach ball stomach.

I stumble through the hallway and down the stairs, in a hurry, calling for my dad. As, I enter the kitchen, I have to lean against a counter. My heart is beating fast and I am out of breath. A young man enters the kitchen from the back door. He looked no older than 20. He looks at me and smiles.

"Hey, Dad, you good. I just came back from my run. You should join me. But, by that tight sweat stained shirt ... It looks like coming down the stairs is exercise enough." He laughs as he rubbed his sweaty chiseled abs.

I immediately recognized him, although this is the youngest I have ever seen him. This new young jock infront of me is my dad. "Dad, what the fuck is going on..." I say between breathes, I can feel all this confusion and excitement affecting my heart.

My dad, in his new young body just laughs. "My memory charms never did work on you. Well, I guess your old enough to know, now. I mean you are my son after all. Our family are descendants of an ancient race. We have abilities that help us survive. But, I have been shunned and cursed. I have the ability to trade any aspect of a person body. I can steal everything if I want to ... to become them. But, I abused this power and my own kind cursed me to gain weight at an incredibly fast speed. I knew eventually I would have to leave this body and trade it for a completely knew fit body, like I have done a thousand time before. But, I grew tired of not having an identity to call my own. And, out of all my vessels this was the best."

The man talking to me was not the father I knew. There was evil in his eyes. My heavy body shook as he threw me from my seat onto the floor. My back in even more pain. He chokes me with one hand and caresses my face with the other.

He continues, "That's were you coming in. Being my spawn, you also gained a gift. The more fat you have, the faster your metabolism becomes. And, you body naturally forms muscle. You have the gift of vitality. So, since you were young I drained you of your muscle. I fed you my fat. But, since you've been away from me our connection was weak. But, now that your back I dumped months worth of fat into you. I may have gotten greedy by taking some of your youth. But, don't worry I'll keep you as young as you need to be to stay alive. Oh, and I believe your college days are over. Now to the world, you'll be my over weight father and I'll be the all star son. It been thousands of years since I've been able to enjoy a body, with out the fear of gaining weight. No more jumping in and out of lives. Now that you know the truth, I don't have to hold back. All the weight that I gain will instantly go to you. No more careful planning like when you were just a boy. By my calculation. With my endless fat supply and your ability to burn off fat ... your weight will balance out at the good old size of 400lbs. So, 80 more pounds to go untill your at your permanent weight. So enjoy this size will you can big guy."

My dad stops choking me and pats my stomach. "Your gonna be one big fat daddy. But, I'll take care of you pops. Now, you should rush to a store and get fatter clothes, before nothing in this house fits you anymore. But, by the looks of it, it's already too late. Guess you gotta get creative, and remember all the credit cards are under my name. I'm going to break you boy. I'm going drill into to your head the you will for the rest of eternity be a big fat giant blob of walking fat. Living under you "son"s" shadow. Now, while you figure out how to adjust to your 400lb life. I'm gonna finally have some fun. And don't think of trying something funny becuase weight gain isn't even the worst thing I can do to you."

By this point tears are rushing down my face. My dad puts on a shirt, grabs the keys and walks out the door. I struggle to stand, as I feel my body very slowly gain weight. The shirt I was wearing rips off my body. Through the mirror I can see new roles of fat forming. I waddle to the scale. It now reads 233.56lbs and counting. The sweats and underwear have big rips do to my fat ass. I hold my gut in my hands. I wipe the tears from my eyes. And, I think "what the fuck just happened and what am I gonna do."

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket, Se03. ep 4.

and we’re back to the main plot! This ep was good & visually expressive.

-Isuzu ( Akito’s perfect abused toy):

Isuzu embodies everything Akito hates; She’s the exact image of Akito’s mom; the dark long hair, sexy body, womanly charms, the steaming explicit love relationship with Haru) but unlike akito’s mom who’s hard to control & torture, Isuzu is a helpless zodiac who can’t fight back against the zodiac Ruler! Akito can hurt Isuzu verbally & physically while projecting it all on Ren. Through hurting Isuzu, Akito can fantasize on getting back on her mother for neglecting, hating her & stealing a zodiac (sleeping with Shigure ).

In Akito’s delusional mind: ISUZU IS REN. Therefore,

cutting Isuzu’s floating seductive hair (means cutting her mom’s control over her. deforming her mom’s image & “uglifying” it. “Ren” can no longer be prettier than “me”.

Hurting Isuzu’s body (means deforming the seductive womanly charms that Ren used with Shigure). Shigure won’t find “Ren” sexy now with her “short hair & scarred body”, he’ll stay faithful to “me”. No ugly creature will “steal” him or anyone of “them” anymore.

locking Isuzu in the cat’s room (means that in Akito’s mind, REN is the zodiacs monster! locking her away meaning gaining control over her status. “The horrible monster is locked away, the majestic ruler saves the poor zodiacs”.

Isuzu is locked while everybody “suspects” sth bad has happened to her & are “advised” against investigating (means the policy of obeying the family heads, turning their back on the abused & enabling abuse is still going on).

Even when Isuzu was saved, it took some time before anybody dared to take action. Even while taking action to save Isuzu, it is only for saving this current victim, the abuser still stands, still free to try again, still able to punish others.

-Kureno taking action or protecting an abuser?

There’s no doubt that kureno is kind & wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to Isuzu or anybody for that matter. However, Kureno’s brand of kindness has always been toxic & immensely harmful to him & others. While he indeed helped free Isuzu, he continued to shield Akito, holding her cheek kindly, softly lecturing “bad Akito, please no hurt/torture/kill poor zodiac girl”.  He waits for Akito to “realize” her wrongful deeds & “ heals” herself & “decides” to stop the abuse. Abusers don’t just decide to stop one day after they realize oops, I’m bad. Abusers must be stopped at once. Especially the ones with mental & emotional issues. I know it is hard for Kureno to stop protecting Akito, as you could argue that he’s “conditioned to obey” from young age. However, it doesn’t matter if his his intentions are good, he’ll either be Akito’s silent accomplice or get her fury.

-Isuzu’s quest to save kind haru:

Isuzu has always looked at her self as rotten/bad, while haru is good. She’s dirty & he’s clean. The theme of “ don’t take advantage of kind ppl as they’re too stupid to save themselves” has always tormented Isuzu. That’s why she was cold & mean to tohru, to save her from her foolish kindness. That’s why she was harsh to yuki, she believed haru’s kindness towards helpless yuki is harmful to haru. Above all, she wants to save kind haru from her “sinful” self! She wants kind ppl to be happy & away from rotten/ bad ppl like her! (does she reminds you of someone? kyo!). Alas, this self-condemning mentality led her to a locked room. Hurt, sad, in pain, tears, darkness, all alone & on the verge of death. That’s why when haru showed up, he said” is your journey over? come home to me” The quest is over. Rest & accept that you’re not a burden.

-Guilt is the immense monster tearing you from the inside:

Hiro is a huge parallel to kyo this ep with kisa & isuzu paralleling tohru, Kyoko & kyo’s mom. He felt immense guilt towards kisa for thinking that he’d caused her physical & emotional suffering by confessing to Akito. Kisa’s journey for recovery from her physical & emotional scars was especially hard on hiro. Even when she smiled, he’d think if only I hadn’t caused her pain. He feels the same towards Isuzu. This is the exact situation where kyo’s at except it is amplified ten times cause of DEATH. tohru’s journey towards recovering from her mom’s sudden death is not easy despite all the smiles. Tohru talks to a framed picture as her mother for God’s sake!!!! this sad! so sad! It hurts to see her craving her mother’s presence & knowing that he is involved somehow. Kyo’s guilt amplifies each time tohru fake smiles. This guilt that kyo built inside him was drilled by a past experience of his moms death & the sohma’s, his dad verbal accusations. While kisa & hiro found escape from guilt’s vicious suffocating grap by confessing their fears, the fact that both kisa & hiro are younger somewhat less traumatized helped. The ppl hiro fears he hurt are saved, alive & will be happy. Kisa is surrounded by her family. Kyo can’t apologize to angry kyoko or his miserable mom. they’re dead. Tohru is an orphan who lives “ temporarily” with the sohma’s. The time where she MUST leave & pursue her life after graduation is near... where will tohru go?.. where is her own family? This is all a set up to the climax! Epic writing!

Side Notes:

Akito scared me with her, “ do you know what’s inside the box? it’s father” ! chills!! is it his ashes? This reminded me of tohru’s cold photo frame of her mom.  I see tohru/akito parallel in the making! love it!

Isuzu’s eps always full of good visual symbolism.

Dark haru is always a good sight! whether for comedy or for plot. It is always well-used!

“Pity love” is a theme here. Haru, a teenager, declared his true love, while kureno, a grown man, stood silent. watching. learn kureno learn!

The cat room is a hideous place! OMG! the cell’s /“cage’s” door is small & doesn’t fit a standing human, like a cat’s door! so, the prisoner crawls to get inside? ugh!

Isuzu was there for days even weeks. let this sink. She refused food. she was mentally crushed & blackmailed by Akito using her love for Haru (the same way she blackmailed kyo using his love for tohru). This is a huge crime. Hideous deed that deserves more than a gentle touch on the abuser’s cheek with soft reprimanding. Akito’s response when she lost haru was the childish behavior of screaming & piunding with her fists on the ground. Kazuma’s “ akito is like a spoiled child”.

The scars Akito inflected on the young sohma’s run deep. It would be interesting to see if akito gets redemption, how’ll they react? will the scars disappear cuz yay the baddie is goddie now? or the scars remain & they’ll choose forgiveness like yuki did? or they’ll hold  grudge? can’t wait to see.

So Isuzu got her hair cut... man, the only hair cut I wanted was yuki’s! I wanted part of his growth to be loosing the Akito’s look.

Speaking of looks, Hiro is the spitting image of kyo but with bigger eyes! He looks exactly like kyo in Kazuma’s flashback in se01 finale & in kagura’s memories in se02, ep, 11 with the exact uniform!

loved that haru avoided hitting Akito. Not for akito, but knowing haru, he’ll suffer once he cool down cuz he hurt someone.

The bond is tearing. I honestly thought that haru leaving akito will cause more than that & it will tear!

I hated that one shot of naked Isuz walking away. Why not clothed? She wasn’t on the bed with him, so it doesn’t make sense.

so, how did Kureno get Isuzu from the cat’s cage? She’ll transform??

Also, Hatori what will you do now that another victim was hospitalized? still carry screaming Akito, comforting her? Who will have to be hurt before you take action? silently treating the victims wounds is NOT action.

I knew Isuzu will run from the hospital as soon as they said she was hospitalized! XD. They should’ve kept an eye on her. she’s weak.

So, shigure’s “ love” didn’t heal Akito nor his “ love-making” toned her fury on Ren’s look alike. Feeling guilty shigure? No?

Also, while it is not directly his fault, but it is ironic that kureno’s meeting with tohru where he decided to “ stay” by akito & not leave, has led to Isuzu tracking him right into Ren’s trap & falling victim to Akito. In short, his passive choice to NOT take action has led to unintentional disaster. Take the right action kureno. Leaveeeeee~~~

please let the next ep continues the plot & not jump somewhere else. give me at least tow/three continuous eps, then jump.