#and through your eyes/I realize/I could be/a little bit happy

[reflections-of-mobius]

@thehordemultimuse asked:

🍑[Hope is just. looking at faer roommate's tail. That's all.] [feel free to ignore this fdghjgfddsfghjg]

[Send an 🍑 for my muse to catch yours staring at their ass. | Accepting!]

Tenebrosity paused, having felt...the strangest thing. It wasn't quite like the hairs on the back of her neck standing up (not that she had any)...it was more like... Eyes. She turned, her own purple-and-blue hues flashing. Wh-.....what was Hope doing?

"....Hope...is there a reason you're staring at my backside?" Her tail flicked- and she could see the mobian's eyes trail after it. "...are...you interested in my tail?" Confusion filtered into her eyes- then understanding. "...is it the ring?" She doubted it was the tuft of pink fur at the end.

[seradae]

Transplant [TF/agender] [TF/TF?] [robotics] [trans feels] [robofucking] [The Spire]

"I have spent the last few days thinking about how to say this, but I think I want to change bodies. I know this is the one you picked for me, but it just doesn't feel right, the more I learn about myself." Q sighed, looking at its feet. "I think I'm a woman. I feel like a woman; I want my body to reflect that. I hope that isn't too disappointing."

Jess looked at it and frowned, seeing the fear and worry and confusion. She sat down on the bed next to it and said softly, "I love you, no matter what your gender is or your body looks and feels like. Thank you for telling me! I'm really proud of you." She gave it a kiss on the forehead and wrapped it in a big hug.

"I love you too. You're not upset with me?" It asked, looking at her.

Jess couldn't help but laugh a little bit and gave it a reassuring headbutt. "Upset? You realize I'm trans too, right? I love that you're learning more about yourself and that you trusted me!" It giggled and visibly cheered up.

"I... didn't really consider that this does make me trans, doesn't it? I wasn't assigned a gender when I was brought online, but damn. I guess we're properly T4T now, and not just trans for transformer," it grinned, entirely too proud of itself for that joke.

She laughed and held it tight. "Well, I guess we're going shopping! Not gonna lie, I'm a little envious you get to so easily swap bodies, even if it's likely gonna take some getting used to."

"True. Maybe someday we can get you out of that flesh and into a fresh new robot body. But for now, you can help me customize!" It nuzzled her and smiled contently.

She stroked its back, yearning for that opportunity. "A girl can dream! What are you thinking in terms of names and pronouns?"

"I think Q fits me, but maybe we could have it stand for something? I've been thinking about Quinn, but I'm not sure yet. For pronouns, she/her!" She blushed softly, thinking about the prospect of keeping it/its for kink scenes, but decided to bring that up later.

"Want to try out the name? No pressure to keep using it; I went through three before I settled on mine." Jess took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

She blushed harder and whispered, "yes please!" The eagerness made Jess grin, knowing exactly how that feels.

Jess stood up and pulled her to her feet, wrapping her arms around Q's waist, then looked into her eyes and spoke. "I love you, Quinn. And you make me happy."

She was quiet for a moment and then simply said, "I... like that a lot."

-------

They stood on the sales floor of Phantom Robotics and walked around the display units, pointing out features they each thought would fit her well. "I love her hips!" "I could see myself scratching that back..."

Once she had a rough idea of what she wanted to look like, they talked to a sales assistant, who pulled out a tablet. On it, she was able to customize her new body from top to bottom, getting occasional advice and input from Jess.

After choosing body parts, skin color, and programmable hair coloration, the assistant spoke up. "Okay, I have to do the salesman thing now. We have some new features that weren't available when you were made. We can add them now, and even if you make further drastic changes to your body, you'll be able to carry them over. Want to hear about them?"

They looked at each other and in unison said, "YES!"

"I figured, Jess," he chuckled; they ran in similar circles and knew each other by reputation, if nothing else. "First, we can integrate a Personal Mobility Unit. You would be able to fly freely in zero G, inside and outside of The Spire. It's also honestly just really fun."

He paused for a moment and then continued. "We can also give you modular genitals, allowing you to mix and match as you see fit; some of the accessories are... Interesting, to put it mildly. Finally, we can give you attachment points for additional arms. But as you know, there are many things other than arms that can be attached. Just something to think about."

Jess flushed, knowing that robotic tentacles had already been developed. She grabbed Quinn's hand and squeezed. "Your choice, sweet. You know I'm down for anything."

Quinn looked at her and she nodded. "Let's do it all!"

"I thought so! Okay, I just put in the order. Now, you will have to be disassembled to transfer your main boards over and put your new body together. It shouldn't take more than 30 minutes or so."

Jess pulled her in for a tight hug and kissed her tenderly. "I love you, sweet! I'm proud of you and I'm so excited for you."

"I love you too, and I'll see you on the other side!"

-------

"How are you feeling, sweet? It's been a big day," Jess said softly, laying next to her girlfriend and stroking her currently-pink hair.

Quinn turned to her, nuzzling her hand. "I feel so, so good, love! I feel... like me. Thank you." She kissed Jess's nose and smiled.

Jess kissed her softly and whispered, "you deserve it. You deserve everything."

"And we both deserve to test out all my new functionality..." She trailed off, looking pleadingly up at her.

Jess had a wry grin as she asked, "you wanna go fly around in zero G? Right now?"

"Or you could fuck my circuits out; your call." Jess pulled her in close and kissed her deeply, fingernails trailing down her side. "So, not flying I take it." She grabbed Jess's hand gently and slid it down to her thighs.

"I love you being mine," she said, her fingers gripping the squishy simulated flesh of her robo girl. Then she slowly slid her hand up and felt the heat coming from her electronic pussy. "Fuck," she whimpered, biting her lip.

Her middle finger slid into Quinn, hearing a moan escape her lips. It didn't matter that the warmth, the wetness, the texture was artificial; the feelings -- physical and emotional -- were not. She felt her girl squeezing around her, adjusting to the new sensations.

Slowly, she began to move in and out, praising her as she did so. "You're being such a good girl for me. Tell me what you want and it's yours." She slid a second finger into her as she spoke the second part.

Quinn looked at her pleadingly and whispered, "I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you cum inside me and claim me. Please?" Jess couldn't help but flush and let out a whimper at the sweet, naughty, romantic request.

She pulled her fingers out and licked them, tasting the sweet fluids; a big upgrade from the oil-based lubricant they had to use with her previous body. She kissed her gently and climbed between her legs, rubbing the tip of her girlcock against her. Quinn looked at her again and said softly, "please?"

She didn't need to be asked again, sliding into her slowly and letting out a low moan. "Fuuck-" She pushed into her, feeling her clenching. Once she was as deep as she could go, she leaned down and kissed her softly. "How's it feel, sweet?"

Quinn's pupils turned to hearts as she mewled, "just like it should, love: so. good." She punctuated the last words with intentional squeezes. "Now, please fuck me to pieces."

Jess pulled out before plunging deeply into her girlfriend, the two moaning in unison. She began to fuck her, gradually faster and faster. Their feelings both intensified, Quinn's legs wrapping around her and grasping tight.

Jess fucked harder and faster, her breath growing ragged as she got closer and closer, moaning wildly as her girlfriend began to vibrate around her cock. Quinn looked into her eyes, her pupils expanding starbursts, and begged sweetly. "Will you please cum in me, love?" And that was all it took. She thrust deep inside her beloved robo girl and exploded with a loud moan, feeling the walls of her new pussy milking every drop of girlcum out.

Suddenly, Quinn's legs pulled her in even more deeply and her eyes turned to static as her first orgasm ripped through her new body. She could feel her servos seizing and grinding, fighting against each other as the newfound sensations overstimulated her mind. Slowly, she regained control and looked up at Jess with her eyes wide open.

Jess leaned down to kiss her and whispered, "I love you, sweet. And I like this new body... A lot."

Quinn returned the kiss and smiled. "I could feel every bit of you. I can even feel your cum in me, love. Oh my god, this new body is amazing. YOU are amazing!"

Jess slowly pulled out of her and cuddled to her side. "That is so hot I almost want to do it again, but I'm exhausted now and I suspect you have a lot to process."

Quinn nodded and rested her head against her love's. The two laid in contented silence together for some time. Finally, Jess spoke. "I still can't believe I ended up in love with a dysphoric robot. It happened to every 'cis' human I dated, but damn."

Quinn leaned to the side to lock eyes with her and grinned wide. "At least you didn't make me a non-binary robot; can you imagine how confused I'd be?"

The two laughed together, cuddling tightly and basking in their shared love.

[ginnyruin]

Spoilers for Altered State

Long comment anon again. I finished the story and am obsessively watching my email for more!

“Idiots to lovers” 😩

He is so smart but so dumb. He is so hurt over other men and the fact that she is more interested in what he has to offer (lessons, library, etc.) and not just him. But who is he without those things to her?

I want them to finally get together though. I don’t know how he will react when he finds out she is a virgin though. Relief? Happiness? Uncertainty on how to handle it? Will he mentally break from happiness and apparate out of the room to give himself time to breath?

I am here for the potential chaos of him seeing Abraxas and Hermione together in a non-delicately fashion. I feel like he would be smart enough to see through this but he is going to be immediately blinded by pain and anger and just go off the rails.

I’m really excited to find out what happens.

“And I will obliterate all thoughts of anyone that came before me.” He stared intently at her, and a hint of a cruel smirk plucked at his lips. “No memory charms necessary.”

With the ironclad set of his jaw and furrowed brows, he appeared stern…almost angrywith her.

He’s so mad at men that don’t exist 🙄. Poor girl, he really put her through it for one of her sexual experiences. I feel like he was reading her inexperience as hesitation towards HIM in particular vs. Abraxas when it was really her inexperience and yes a little bit of fear of future him.

I’ll know exactly how perfect you feel. And nothing could stop me from taking you multiple times a day, every day.”

I hope this happens, not only because it’s hot, but because I want to see him become a desperate clingy boyfriend. She has to go back to Hogwarts to work. Is he going to owl her every night to quit and forget spying on Dumbledore?

He took a deep, long breath. “You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.”

Regardless of whatever feelings she may or may not develop for him, he would never feel the same, because he was incapable of it. And she couldn’t help being a romantic at heart. Without a complete soul, he’d never be able to give her what she wanted, and she couldn’t allow the world’s greatest actor to force her off her path.

Is he incapable?

Softly, he pressed his lips to the center of her palm, and left there, burning like embers, the phantom imprint of a lingering kiss.

He raised his head slightly, but bowed over her palm with a certain reverence that forced that incorruptible thing in her chest to flutter, to weaken.

This was such a sweet, beautiful paragraph. What was going through his head here??? I must KNOW.

Sigh…. I really hope they eventually realize how similar they are and how broken inside they both are. I love your Hermione. She is a perfect blend of being a badass but not perfect. I feel horrible for her. She has to be so brave in her situation, but even back in her time she had to put on a brave face socially with how alone she feels. I’m afraid she will give in in the hopes he does reciprocate (as normally as he can given who he is) and he is just an ass and rubs in how much she wants him, how weak she is for him, etc. to a point it’s hurtful. I just want someone who is going to be as strong and smart as her to care for her 😭

I’m adding to peoples playlist, these songs give me Altered State vibes.

Believe by Mumford and sons

Kiss from a rose by seal

Endgame - Taylor swift

Infinity by James young -especially this song!

I'm a mad man for your touch, girl, I've lost control

I'm gonna make this last forever, don't tell me it's impossible

Oh, darling, my soul

You know it aches for yours

And you've been filling this hole

Since you were born, oh

'Cause you're the reason I believe in fate, you're my paradise

And I'll do anything to be your love or be your sacrifice

Meet me at the bottom of the ocean

Where the time is frozen

Where all the universe is open

Love isn't random, we are chosen

And we could wear the same crown

Keep slowing your heart down

We are the gods now

this ask/comment brought a huge smile to my face, thank you so much! <3

As for the paragraph you quoted, I loved writing it too. Hmm what was going through his mind during that particular scene? maybe we'll see one day in the general sense. Also, I can certainly see him getting frustrated that she works at Hogwarts and just straight up demands that she quit (that'll go over well).

"But who is he without those things to her" - These two definitely have a lot to figure out before they get their act together. They really are similar, but they don't realize it yet. This story will try to explore that more deeply. In a way, they are inevitable.

It means so much to me that you like Hermione's characterization. There are many wonderful directions writers can take Hermione's character and readers have different preferences, so I'm thrilled you like her in Altered State. She's smart and tough, but she's imperfect and struggles a lot too, dealing with others who can be just as cunning. I love writing how she manages to overcome the challenges that keep coming her way.

Your song recommendations are super lovely, thank you, and the lyrics of the last one are simply perfect for AS Voldemort and Hermione! It really reminds me of the last few chapters.

If you continue reading, I sincerely hope you enjoy the rest!

[ms3ox]

#7ee675

pairing: Glamrock Freddy/Reader (Monty/Reader as well)

tags: unrequited love, mentions of smut, angst

wc: 2,710

I would highly recommend reading this on ao3 (here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36424591?view_adult=true )

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

For the longest time, it was easy to describe what he was feeling.

His AI was relatively simple: smiling meant happy, frowning meant sad, and everything in between was nothing that could avoid the scrutiny of his learning processes. It was easy, like a game of matching cards. Of course, Freddy was unfamiliar with the emotions themselves; ask him what happiness is and he could give you a sterling, textbook definition. Ask him what happiness feels like, however, and he might give you a glitch or two after citing some medical jargon. For him, it was empty. Not in a bad way, but it never sunk further than what his programming made room for. 

He was comfortable that way, in the hollowness. He had nothing to compare it to. Everything felt stable and rigid and routined. He was comfortable in his own state of robo-homeostasis. 

When you first walked into his life, he greeted you formally and usually, allowing his happy disposition to front. You shook his hand jubilantly and flashed your own smile at him– clearly you were happy too. His oculars processed your face, flashing green upon receiving the desired outcome. 

He remained in his unaltering world for a while in the time you spent together. You were the textbook definition of kind while working on him, making sure to take care of his fragile parts with a delicate hand. You were also the textbook definition of amiable; asking him how he was, how his shows went, and how he felt became an integral part of his daily life. And when he’d answer, you’d always flash him your smile, and subconsciously–or sub-programming…ly?-- he began to associate you with that lovely little green. 

Suddenly, everything was green to him. From the plants to the trees, to the salads sold at the food court, he wanted to see the color green. He looked everywhere for it, but only truly found it in just the right hex code when you stood in front of him, smiling like you always did. It…filled him in a certain way; every time he saw it, his fans stuttered, his language functions errored, and he felt like he’d burst at any given moment. But the feeling was addicting. He had no idea what it was, thinking that he must be in need of some long-overdue maintenance. All he knew was that you in particular made him feel that way. So light, so airy, like he was one hundred pounds lighter and floating on a cloud.

Freddy explored it a bit within himself, searching his own databases to try and define this foreign feeling. He scanned every article, blog post, and page about it, but one word remained constant: love. That’s when it clicked. What he was experiencing was love. 

He almost short-circuited when the realization hit him. For once in his life, he’d actually experienced a human emotion. For once in his life, a smile meant something deeper than a complete jumble of numbers and processes. For once in his life, the words he spoke felt real. 

For once in his life, the hollowness felt hollow. 

Then, even more emotions metaphorically slapped the metal of his face. Excitement, fear, worry, anxiousness, elatedness… For the first time ever, he’d genuinely craved something. A phantom force pulled him toward the feeling you gave him for no other reason than the fact that he wanted it. Is this what free will felt like? Is this what humans feel like? Is this what it means to be human? To love? Thoughts raced through his mind, flooding his processor, and eyes flurrying around his room and taking everything in with a new light. His whole world felt new. 

The next day he talked to you about his feelings, telling you all about his wonder and amazement and how he finally felt complete. You giggled; you were happy for him, but then, you delved into some of the more intricate parts of human relationships and emotions, with Freddy mentally jotting all of your information down to keep in his own human-emotion bible. You said something he didn’t quite understand when you finished your speech, but when you smiled at him, the color green doused his vision, and he forgot all about it. 

He never told you, but he enjoyed exploring these new feelings with you, growing increasingly impatient every time he knew you were coming to do work on him. His little crush on you grew with time, to the point where he had your work schedule, favorite color, favorite food, favorite song, and anything he could possibly soak up about your life memorized. It got to the point that he’d do anything just to see you, spotting little parts of you in various quirks around the plex and smiling to himself. 

“So…,” you began, screwing a miscellaneous bolt back into his thigh, “what emotion did you feel today?”

He let out a faux sigh, gleefully noting all the exciting parts of his day.

“...But I believe my favorite emotion is the one I feel when I am around you, superstar!”

Your laugh filled his room, delighting his ears while he watched your chest bounce and mouth stretch wide. He was happy that way, having these little moments with you where he could shed his robotic skin and let himself be. He was content with his life.

On another day, he skipped around the pizzaplex as he does when he is given time to roam after hours. He ran through his usual procedure but kept an eye out for your hex code. He walked around some more before your numbers appeared in his visual field, and that familiar glee flooded his receptors. He raced in their direction, ready to tell you all about his latest escapades all while feeling that subtle thrumming within him in your presence. He rounded a corner and halted. Your green was there, but it was aimed at another. Monty stood next to you, mumbling something unintelligible while your face flushed, smiling giddily.

Suddenly, another, new emotion crept up his metal spine.

Suddenly, the color green— your green filled him with jealousy. 

In one, doleful moment, suddenly, he didn’t want to see the color green anymore. 

But it was right there, right in front of him. At the one moment when he so desperately wanted to get away from it, green was all he could see. 

He paused, staring at the way Monty’s viridian arm snaked around you, pulling you ever closer to him while you giggled, covering your blushing cheeks. He supposed having human emotions came with its caveats. But if this vile, green envy was what he was set to feel, he wanted no part of it. 

It was uncomfortable, painful, twisting his wiring in ways that made him writhe and clench. Freddy searched his databases for the right word. Eventually, he found it. 

It was longing. 

With downtrodden eyes, he watched the two of you, caught up in your own world as if he wasn’t even there. To you, was he ever there? Truly? Was he ever there?  Freddy turned away, dragging his feet along the concrete of the floor back to his room. His newfound emotions stormed and boiled inside of his metal, evident by the fans that fruitlessly tried to cool him. He sat on his couch, brows furrowing with so much feeling. He glared unfocused at the floor, throttling himself into his own head. 

For the first time in his life, he wanted to be reset. He wanted to get rid of your memory. He wanted so badly to forget that green. 

It wasn’t the last time he’d witness the two of you either.

To Freddy’s envious dismay, for a while, you and Monty were all over each other. Monty would brag about you endlessly to the rest of the group, and when he wasn’t bragging about you, he’d be glued to your side, touching, poking, and cracking jokes, flooding Freddy’s visual field with pure viridian. 

After a while, Freddy thought that he’d slowly be able to purge the emotions and conflicting feelings within him. As dutifully as he could, he was mostly successful. Freddy had a job to do, and allowing you to dominate his mental storage would get him scrapped sooner than later. The emotions flowed uncomfortably within him for a while, but over time, they mellowed, only fronting again when he was alone with you. Once again, he was happy–as much as he could be– in the hollowness– in the familiarity. However, everything he’d worked so hard to forget resurfaced when he heard you gasping Monty’s name through the green room wall, your moans echoing and making Freddy shiver. He felt his eye twitch, brows harrowing against cold, unforgiving metal. The sound of his footsteps had noticeably fallen quiet upon hearing the noises, solidifying him in his place while he listened to everything Monty did to you; things that he wanted to do to you.

Freddy heard your nails scratch wantonly against Monty’s back, sounds of slapping skin resonating from the room. It was absolutely patronizing. Freddy felt his metal heat, wishing desperately that he was stuck in a sick dream and that he’d wake up to you at his side. Monty must have detected Freddy’s presence by then, deciding to taunt him cruelly. And worst of all, in the few minutes he stood there, a moan louder than the rest pierced him, and green filled his vision. 

Freddy stomped back to his room, seething beyond repair. Surely, reducing himself back to an emulating, metal husk was better than the hurricane that raged inside of him. It was so much– too much. It was horrible. He yearned and ached and fumed in complete silence, knowing that now he would never have you. He marinated in utter quiet that night, unmoving and unwilling to charge himself for the next day. There was no point anymore. 

Before he knew it, the morning dawned, and he hadn’t forgotten a thing. He grouped with his bandmates to perform, dragging his feet along the cement of the hallway. Freddy knew that his usual mien was terribly disrupted and discombobulated, but human emotions were so incredulously powerful that he gave himself a pass. Monty stood in front of him, tuning his guitar, and once again was he forced to see that wretched green. 

“Are you okay, Freddy?” asked Chica, peering at his intense glare from below, “You don’t look so good…”

He de-stressed his face, flashing her his usual, amicable grin, “I am fine, Chica, thank you,” and walked to the front of the lift, fiddling with his microphone and staring a hole into the wall. He felt choked by it. Everything was green. 

The crowd cheering fell deaf on his ears, gripping the microphone firmly as if to remind himself that he did have a responsibility to fulfill despite his inner turmoil. The shredding of guitar strings reverberated around him, lights, strobes, and lasers throwing him deeper into the fog. He ran to center stage, each step further assuming his innate design. For a second, only a second, your green appeared among the crowd. He focused on it; you were watching him. He felt his programming crack, filling his servos with a tingly, breathless feeling. 

The first few notes he sang came unnaturally as his anger further materialized with every lyric.

“Why you gotta be so blind?” 

It was comical, the choice of song. 

“Won’t you open up your eyes?”

His teeth ground against the metal of his inner jaw. Something deep and gravelly bubbled from behind his chest plate and into the metal of his throat. He hadn’t even noticed he practically growled the notes until he saw your awestruck face.

“He’s no good!”

Monty was no good for you, really. Freddy was. But you didn’t want that, did you? You didn’t want him. He couldn’t force you, but he sure as hell would make it insufferable for you to be with Monty, not while he was there. Freddy wasn’t a quitter, and he was not going to acquiesce to your precious green. His anger was on perfect display for you to see. The rush of emotions controlled his every move, forcing the deepest secrets from his mind through every note. He only hoped that it reached you too. 

The song was over before he even knew what happened. The crowd roared with applause but it felt empty. Everything felt empty. Freddy felt empty. His ferocity came and left like a strong gust of wind, leaving only the sadness, betrayal, and jealousy among the sea of happy faces. He tried scouring through the crowd for one more look at your face, but by then, you had disappeared as if you were only a figment of his imagination. 

After the performance, you tip-toed into his room, standing silently for a long moment. 

“Wow…” you gasped, staring at him like you’d seen a ghost, “That was an amazing performance, Freddy!”

Your hands flailed cutely while you walked towards him, carrying a wrench for his daily repairs. 

“The emotion, the flare, the song and dance… it was so cool, Freddy! I didn’t know your voice box had that much range!”

Any anger he had before immediately dissipated when he saw how starstruck you were. He wanted so desperately to smile, but the jealousy from before boiled beneath his hardware. He fought away the yearning thoughts, dusting his mind of all the things that could have been. 

“I am glad you enjoyed it, superstar…”

His eyes darted back to the carpet; he knew he looked sullen, hoping in the deepest, darkest parts of his machinery that you’d ask what was wrong. 

“Freddy?” you asked, perking his ears, “what’s going on? Another malfunction?”

His brows furrowed. He rose to his feet, staring down at you through determined eyes. He looked to the side for a moment. Was this… really the right thing to do? Would you hate him if he told you how he felt? Would you never come and see him again? His fingers found your empty hand, cradling your palm in his own delicately as if you were his. The determination washed away with every second he held on to you; now, all that was left was a broken heart, and, of course, a sight he hated to see. Your green morphed into a deep, depressing blue. 

“... Freddy?”

His eyes flickered dolefully between your hand and your eyes, his processor struggling aimlessly to piece together the right words. You peered at him with concern, only furthering his own maelstrom of confusion and sadness. He wanted the moment to last forever, with his hand in your own as if nothing were keeping the two of you apart. But maybe, for once, the right decision was to acquiesce. If he loved you, then maybe the best decision would be to let you live happily– with him or not. He let go of your hand, letting his own fall to his side. 

“It’s nothing, superstar…How about you do my repairs and I will let you go on your way? I bet Monty is just itching to see you.”

Your pupils dilated at the sound of Monty’s name, a faint pink dusting your cheeks as you looked away bashfully. 

“He probably is… That idiot,” you shook your head, bending down to fiddle with his parts, “I love him though.”

A knife felt like it slashed the surface of his chest. Freddy was never more grateful that he didn’t have tear ducts. He remained staunch in his unspoken promise to you, but god did it hurt. He wished he was the one you called an idiot. He wished he was the one who pleasured you until you couldn’t think straight. He wished he was the one to hold you and whisper in your ear. Freddy wished he was the one who could say “I love you”. 

But instead, you continued wordlessly on his body, picking, and prodding at all the misplaced metal as if everything were perfectly fine. When you were finished you muttered a quick goodbye, obviously eager to see another. The door shut way too loudly behind you.

And from your shadow danced a trail of bright, colorful green. 

[etherrreal]

“the things you do for charity”

Pairing: kenma x gn!reader Genre: fluff Summary: kenma's always been a private person, but it was getting increasingly harder to keep his partner off his streams while you live together; so, he decided to join his two loves together for a 24-hour charity stream extravaganza. Word Count: 3,408 Warnings: some swearing, i suppose there are some spoilers from the manga about adult kenma's job? A/N: i'd give my left tit to play some minecraft or mario kart with kenma tbh -Luna

Kenma's career as a popular streamer was one of the many facets of him that shocked you when you’d started dating two years ago. The two of you had first met in an Animal Crossing discord for your city meant for trading and making friends.

After you had gone over to his island to adopt Raymond from him, he let you keep all of your Nook Mile Tickets with the stipulation that you kept in contact with him to "give him updates" about how the cat villager was doing in his new home. His dorky way of trying to flirt with you was what made you pursue him in the first place, and somehow it had led to a very fulfilling relationship.

It was revealed early on that he was a streamer, but he never expanded on it regarding the actual numbers. Curiosity got the best of you one night, and you decided to google him. Besides also learning that he was a YouTuber, you found yourself in awe at the numbers he managed to accumulate across all of his social media.

And if that wasn’t enough, he was also apparently the CEO of his own business.

Once you moved in together around the one-year mark of your relationship, you got to properly witness the amount of work put into streaming and maintaining a social media presence. This also meant that you got to read the wild comments that were left on all of his platforms–and see the occasional surprise nude picture whenever he opened up his DMs around you.

Because of this, Kenma sat you down to have a conversation about your potential appearance on his social media. You both decided by the end of it that his audience would get to know that he was in a committed relationship, but you agreed it would be best to not show your face or reveal any identifying information of yours.

It had been a year since having that conversation, and you’d both stuck to the agreement closely. The most his audience had ever seen of you was your hand whenever you refilled his water bottle for him.

Of course, it was hard sometimes, especially when you had to remain extra quiet around the house and refrain from yelling out a 'baaaabe' whenever you needed something from him, but since he had his own soundproof office, it lessened the room for any accidental error.

Overall, you were content with never showing your face to his audience for the rest of his career. You knew how nasty the internet could get because of their parasocial relationships with influencers and streamers alike, especially when they discovered those influencers and streamers had a partner who wasn't them, even if they knew they never had a chance. You weren't sure your skin was thick enough to deal with rabid angry stans.

Which is why it was so shocking when Kenma decided one day to nix the agreement.

You were in your shared bedroom answering some emails when he came in. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie, sweats, and tied-up hair; his typical look for a stream.

After some time, you noticed that he was still standing in the doorway, not saying anything. When you glanced up at him, you found him awkwardly toying with the strands of hair that had fallen out of his bun, looking down at the ground like he was just waiting for you to notice him.

"Is there something you need, baby?" you asked. "You're just standing there all adorably shy."

"Yeah, so, um, I'm going to be doing a 24-hour stream this weekend to raise money for charity."

"Oh, really? Cool! I guess that means I'll be going to bed alone that night," you joked.

"Yeah, I guess. Um..." He started before scrunching up his face like he was uncomfortable with what he planned to say next.

"What is it? Do you need me to stock up on snacks and energy drinks? Just send me a list. I can pick  them up tomorrow."

"No, that's not it. I was thinking of making a stretch goal be you coming on stream so we can play Minecraft or Mario Kart or something...I mean, I totally understand if you don't feel comfortable. I could always replace it with something else. I know they've been wanting to see me dye my hair a bright color and dress up like an e-boy, so--"

"Really!?" you nearly yelled.

"What? That they want me to dress like an e-boy? Yeah, Kuroo said it would–"

"No, I mean..." You tried to fight the confused expression that was growing on your face, but your squinted eyes gave you away. "You really want me on your stream? Like face and all?"

"....Yeah, I really want to be able to share this with you. But don't feel like you have to do it just to make me happy."

It was a large ask when looking at the full picture. Kenma had his fair share of fans and "stans" who lacked boundaries, as seen from a select few who visited your home several times this year, or the handful that found you on social media already just from seeing a glimpse of your college ring on the hand wrapped around Kenma's water bottle.

There could be a chance you could receive direct hate on your social media just because you were a person who dated a popular streamer. You would then be in the public eye with little privacy and have a magnifying glass on all of your actions and words. Anything you did would then reflect on Kenma.

What if you messed something up and then Kenma lost viewers? Would they try to cancel you or him for it?

You backed away from all the negative thoughts before you could spiral and looked at the metaphorical 'pro' column.

If you agreed to appear on his stream, you would no longer have to sneak around your house in fear of being heard or showing up in his face cam. You both wouldn't have to feel guilty playing games off-camera with each other because you knew Kenma could be streaming it instead.

And who knew? Maybe his fans would like you. You had to admit, it would be a nice ego boost knowing that you were accepted by so many people.

And, most importantly: you could physically ask him in person what he wanted for dinner instead of texting him and waiting an hour for a break so he could respond, while you sat in the next room, starving, stuck in an endless cycle of wondering whether you should make a snack or if you should just hold off for dinner.

Maybe this was a good idea.

"Okay,” you decided, “I'll do it."

"Oh... alright. Cool." Kenma was trying his hardest not to show how excited he was that you agreed. When he saw the contemplative look on your face, he was sure you would decide that it'd just be too much work and say no. But hearing you agree made him giddier than he would ever admit to.

Despite the cool and collected façade he thought he was putting on, you saw the smile that threatened to break through and the red tips of his ears. You wondered if he felt the same weight being lifted off his shoulders as you did, knowing that, after this weekend, you'd both be finally out as an official couple to the world.

And, of course, the nausea of having to do all of it live in front of thousands of people. No biggie.

Saturday afternoon came and at 12pm sharp, Kenma began his grueling 24-hour charity stream. The bar had an overall goal of $150,000, and it began filling up at a constant pace right from the start. Donations ranging from $5 to $500 were flowing in rapidly, and you were trying your best not to feel nervous.

You both agreed that if he reached $50,000 within 5 hours, you would join him for an hour or two of Minecraft later that night. Part of you hoped that the donations would slow down and plateau for a bit, but when you saw Kuroo had donated $1000, specifically with the message that he hoped to see you on stream soon, you realized that it was a pipe dream.

So, you had to be your own hype person for now, to get prepared to show your face to thousands of people and not disappoint Kenma.

Whether it was the promise of your face reveal or the people who genuinely adored charity, it took only four hours for Kenma to break $50,000.

When he saw the number update live on stream, the viewers witnessed the most amount of expression Kenma had ever shown: eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly agape, body frozen. You could see the gears struggling inside his head struggling to turn and comprehend what they all managed to do so early on in the stream.

"Thanks so much, everyone, for being so generous today... I guess this means we'll be having my partner on later tonight," he announced. You watched his chat explode with excitement, his special emotes flying in the chat.

You picked up your phone to shoot Kenma a quick text.

[you]:: hope you're ready to put our minecraft beds together in front of thousands of people 😏

Unsurprisingly, he left you on read. But dating him for this long meant you weren't even a little bit afraid of double or triple texting.

[you]:: maybe we can kiss under the light of an exploding creeper 😫

[you]:: or have a romantic walk through our rainbow sheep while a phantom looms overhead 🥰

It was after the third text when you finally saw him pick up his phone to text you back. You eagerly awaited his response, only to cackle when you read it.

[my sugar daddy]:: im going to replace you with hinata as my partner if you dont stop

Instead of annoying him any further, you set your phone to charge on your nightstand and went into the bathroom to get ready for the stream later.

Once you emerged, you picked up your phone to check the percentage and noticed a text from Kenma stating that he'd have you on at 8pm. You decided to spend the time until then cooking up some dinner for the both of you.

It seemed like time flew by because by the time you were done eating your food, it was 7:45pm. Only fifteen more minutes before you were live in front of all of Kenma's supporters. You refilled your water bottle and sat on the couch, staring at the blank T.V. as you practically dissociated from reality until Kenma came out of his office to retrieve you.

You noticed that he looked just as nervous as you did, despite his face not showing it the way yours did. His shoulders were up to his ears with tension, and his hoodie drawstring was pulled almost all the way through due to him fiddling with it.

He turned briefly to you after he brought you into his office, gesturing to make sure you knew to wait until he gave you the cue. He sat down, unmuted himself, and took down the 'away' screen he had for his audience.

This was it. Everything was going to change in literally ten seconds.

"Well, everyone...please welcome my partner, (Y/N)."

You walked cautiously around his large gaming chair and sat next to him in your modest desk chair that he had rolled into the room for the occasion.

Okay, you thought to yourself, now don't fuck this up.

"Hi, everyone."

Nailed it.

There was a painful moment of silence before the stream finally caught up, and you both heaved a sigh of relief when you saw nothing but declarations of excitement. Amongst the 'AHHHs' and spam of emotes were sweet comments about your appearance and how cute you two looked as a couple. You peeked over at Kenma and saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, elated to know that he was just as relieved as you were.

"Okay, let's start with the gameplay while we answer some questions," he said.

The questions and gameplay started out mild; when did you both start dating, how did you meet, who asked the other out first. They even asked a few simple questions about you specifically, like your favorite anime and your star sign. And while you did see a few bans in the chat after some inappropriate questions –no, you will not tell them the color of your underwear– most were easy and simple enough to answer.

Then they started to get a bit spicier.

"Bokutoslefttit donated $69.69 and asked, 'what is your main pet peeve with Kenma?'" he read, muttering a 'wow' under his breath at the username.

"Ooh, how can I be polite when exposing you?" you pondered while beating a cow to death with your sword. "It's probably how loud he gets whenever he's playing games with his good headphones on."

"I don't get loud," he defended.

"Oh yeah, you do. I've had to come in here several times to tell you to shut up like I'm your mother. I did it literally two days ago when you were playing with Lev."

"... Next question."

You rolled your eyes at his lack of comment but glanced over at the chat to pull up a new question. You stifled a laugh when you read, "Girlboss420 asked 'who has a fatter ass, Kuroo or (Y/N)?'"

"I'm not answering that."

"Come oooon, this is a Q&A. Can't have the Q’s without the A’s."

"Nope."

You were about to start reprimanding him for implying that Kuroo's ass was fatter than yours when you noticed he ran past you with a group of pillagers following closely behind. You turned to head into the house but when you opened the door, you noticed it was blocked off by obsidian.

"You are the absolute worst!" you exclaimed.

You made a break for it, sprinting past the shooting pillagers and around to the front of the house. You made it inside with only 2 hearts to spare. You turned, in real life, to Kenma to see him tight-lipped to avoid smiling about his betrayal.

"I'm moving my bed downstairs for the rest of the stream."

You both carried on with the stream without another incident, turning to the chat every now and again to answer some questions. Kenma even apologized to you by bringing home a horse that was named "I'm sorry."

It was about an hour and a half after you sat down when Kenma decided that he needed a bathroom break. Your heart fell to your ass when you realized that you'd be all alone to entertain his chat. You considered saying that you needed to pee as well, if it meant not having the spotlight on you.

Instead, when he got up to pee, you smiled and asked him to bring you back a snack and a refill. Oh, how the turns have tabled.

In the meantime, you decided to scroll through the chat and some of the donations to pick out another question to answer since Kenma was gone. You were initially looking for a funny or vulgar comment when you saw one that had a completely different vibe.

"Kermithateblog donated $25.00 and asked, 'what's your favorite part about being with Kenma?' Wow, that's a really sweet question. Let me think for a moment."

You paused to reflect on your relationship with Kenma over the two years you’d been together. You'd had your fair share of highs and lows like any other couple, but, in the end, you both learned how to work things out so you were both equally as happy in the relationship.

"So, as you guys know, he's a busy boy with streaming, creating content for YouTube, and also being a CEO of his own company, which all takes up the majority of his time," you began. "But when he finally can shut off his screens and crawls into bed late at night, I know that he's 100% there with me at that moment. He is able to give me his undivided attention and make me feel like his love for me comes above his love for gaming."

You gave a pause, trying not to get too emotional. You rarely got the chance to gush about Kenma because you knew how much he hated having attention on him, so if this was going to be your only opportunity to do so for a while, then you were going to take it.

"What y'all don't know is that he is the biggest baby when it comes to cuddling," you laughed. "He is absolutely the little spoon most of the time, and he loves when I stroke his hair and love on him all night. In a weird way, it makes me feel special and loved knowing that he trusts me enough to be vulnerable with me. I cherish the amount of time we have together because of that."

What you didn't know was that he had come back from refilling your water bottle rather quickly and stood outside the doorway to hear your speech. His heart almost burst when he heard your tender words describing how he made you feel. He knew that you rarely got to hear how much those quiet moments at night meant to him because he was guarded with his feelings.

Which is why he started into the room on a mission.

You smiled as soon as you saw him. "Welcome back, babe, we were just talking about--"

He approached you swiftly and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You hardly even got to bask in the moment before he was pulling away, setting down your water bottle as he sat back down with his controller in hand like he didn't just expose to his audience how much of a softy he really was.

It was in that moment when you realized how glad you were that you’d decided to appear on stream because you'd be able to look back at that clip over and over again to relive the intimate moment.

Noon on Sunday came at last. Kenma would finally be free from the prison of his office. Not to mention he could finally get off his ass and stretch.

Between your official appearance on stream and the sign-off, you popped in a few more times to say hello to the chat when you brought him some snacks and drinks. You stayed up through most of the night, although you accidentally napped for a few hours during the dead of night which gave you a little boost in energy.

In the end, the stream was a monumental success. Kenma had even managed to blow past his goal of $150k and make it to over $200k, which meant that he'd be getting the full e-body makeover for his next week of streams.

By the time Kenma came into your bedroom after freshening up and having a small snack, you were already dead asleep with your laptop propped open to show his now offline stream.

He tip-toed around the bed quietly, closed your laptop, pulled the covers up and over your curled-up body, and slipped in himself. As he settled, he felt you shift and grab at his worn t-shirt, opening your eyes slightly just to confirm that it's him.

He pulled you against his chest tightly, his body finally able to relax. He was sure it wouldn't be too long before he completely fell out.

"That was more fun than I thought it'd be," he heard you utter quietly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." His fingers gently danced across your shoulder blades as you mushed your face into his clean shirt. "I can't believe we raised so much today so quickly."

"I'm so proud of you, baby. You worked so hard on this."

"I also donated $2000 anonymously to speed up the process," he mumbled sheepishly, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head in hopes to lessen the blow of his secret.

It was quiet for a moment, and he wondered if he’d genuinely pissed you off before he felt the vibrations from your laugh against his chest.

"...I can't wait to ruin your hair, e-boy."

Written by: Luna

[writella]

Touch

Pairing: Luke Patterson x reader

Summary: Luke’s spirit is brought down by the pain he has caused his parents as well as the hardships that come from adoring you, a lifer. He craves your touch but his ghostly form keeps him from getting the thing he most desires to recieve.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: First fic! Sorry that it's kind of long. I don’t know if this would be considered “angsty” but it is kind of sad in the beginning but trust me it becomes really sweet at the end!

Julie and the Phantoms was such a good show. I loved how the writers and Charlie showed that despite how positive Luke was, he was harboring a lot of pain inside when it came to how he left him mom that he didn’t show anyone. This piece touches on that point a little bit more. If you would like to leave a review, that would be super appreciated. I’m sure there are a bunch of grammar errors anyway.

-

Luke came to you after he left Julie at his parents house. He told you about the song to his mom, about how his parents still celebrated his birthday after all these years. He told you about the grief he felt and how he felt like he had no one. You told him that he had you, and Julie, and the guys most importantly, that you were sure they missed their family members too. He admitted to you though, that both Alex and Reggie avoided talking about their family, it was one of the only things that they weren’t being honest about with each other. He said he couldn’t be the one to bring it up.

“I’m the strong one!” He explained. “If I don’t push them forward, they’ll fall apart. I have to be happy, I have to be okay so they-“

“It’s okay not to be okay all the time, Luke,” You interrupt him, then you send him a sympathetic smile as you come to a realization: “I didn’t know you put all this pressure on yourself... I’m sorry. Come here,” without thinking you motion him forward, arms reaching to grasp his back, only catching handfuls of air.

Luke gives you an exasperated laugh, in the heat of it all, he almost forgot for a second himself.

“Well, this is a strange little relationship we have, isn’t it?” Tears swipe down his cheek.

“Luke...” you didn’t know how to respond, you cursed yourself for making the situation worse.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Or whenever. Alright?” His words were short as he forced a smile and disappeared from your sight.

You woke up from your haze and caught your eyes staring out the window, looking at the boy you were just thinking about. He sat on an old brown chair right next to the garage door. Julie took some down that hung from the garage ceiling a few nights ago for him. She said she got tired of seeing Luke crouching down on the concrete like a sad lost puppy.

“Why don’t you just stop avoiding him and finally go down there?” Julie sighs. “Maybe you’ll have better luck than me.”

“Than all of us.” Alex chimed in.

You were hesitant but as Julie pushed you to the door it seemed as if you had no choice.

“You’re our only hope.” Reggie said with a sad smile, echoing a quote from his favorite franchise.

As you walked toward Luke, his gaze on the night sky never faltered.

“You don’t have to say anything... Just want to be with you. Alright?” You said softly as you sat down on the chair next to him. You decided you were only going to keep him company, not dwell on what happened. You remembered what he said about always having to be the strong one, you guessed that’s what you were trying to do now.

He only slightly nodded, not wanting to look you in the eye. He was surprised you’d finally come. Everyone, Reggie, Alex, and Julie had come to sit with him from time to time, getting nothing out of him. He sort of wished you finally would show up but now that you’re here, he couldn’t say anything despite how much he wanted to. He tried to urge the words to his tongue but his apprehension kept them stuck inside his brain. He bounced his knee, his frustration as well as your closeness was getting to him.

He knew he shouldn’t have been ignoring you, you must’ve felt as bad as he did but he needed some time to think. Maybe just a day, he reasoned, just to go through the motions by himself and then wake up going back to his easy going self again the next morning. This is what he told himself, yes, but then a day became another, and then another.

It surprised him, how out of it he was. Usually, it was so easy for him to find the courage to remain optimistic but right now he just felt like a disappointment. He was usually able to thrive upon this fact, a 90s misfit, nowhere to go but up. He loved the idea that one day his band’s talent would shine so brightly everyone would have no choice but to see their beauty. And it didn’t come from anger, Luke was never a resentful person, it came from a place of purity. He wanted his music to make people feel connected; understood, just like it had for him. Or like it has for him up until now. He hadn't been able to play in days.

The bittersweet melody of Unsaid Emily became the mantra that invaded his brain this past week. Every time the song came to an end, his mind replayed the lyrics again, and again; an endless loop. And with that came the images of his parents, blowing out a birthday candle with misty tears in their eyes, thinking of their boy they believed they lost forever. And then there was you, of course. The prettiest girl he’d ever seen, who laughed at his confusing metaphors, and built him up when he was feeling down which was something he usually had to do for others. Ever since he met you, you were there for him in a way no one else had been. The thought almost relieved his pain. Could this truly be love? He had dated around before but never had he been in a real relationship. After finding the guys, the band was all he thought about, the only connection he felt he needed. Plus, he just had to prove to his mom that he could make it, and that took all of his attention. Another mistake, he thought.

Once again he revisits the memory of your arms going through him. Not only could he never apologize to his parents but he couldn’t even love one of the only people on Earth who could actually see him the way he wanted to. Never had he felt so completely helpless. He wanted you to know that he didn’t want to give up. He needed you to know that you were enough, but he was fearful to try anything despite how desperately he wanted touch. He even counted the ways he could do it in his head: perhaps he’d lightly stroke your knee, softly rub his thumb on your intertwined hands, maybe brush your hair behind your ear with his fingers lingering till he felt the last strand of hair slip away. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d even give you the softest kiss. One so pure and light, because while he was a ghost, he thought of you as an angel and he believed an angel deserved a touch just as delicate, but he couldn’t. He was dead.

It had been an hour of you two sitting in silence. You stared at him and sighed. You thought he was beautiful. You could go on endlessly about the physicality of that beauty but what really tugged on your heart was what was inside. His mind, his body, his soul, that was bound in optimism. You’d never seen anything like it. Right from when Julie met him, she told you, he put the realization of being dead, of being a ghost, behind him just to help her become a part of the music program again, giving her the words of encouragement, it’s a closed door, but you’ve gotta bust it open!

You felt terrible that you were a part of the reason why his spirit was currently crushed. You desperately wanted touch. You wanted him to know you were there for him but you knew words weren’t enough.

Screw it, you thought. You were going to try again and even if it didn’t work you were ready to tell him that you didn’t care, that seeing was all you needed to be with him. You wanted him to know that you weren’t giving up. You needed him to know that he was enough, fear wasn’t going to stop you.

You reached for his knee. Trying to touch the tips of his hand that laid there with yours, ready for the sensation of air to swoosh between your fingertips but then, just then, you... felt. First it was the tips of nails, then fingers, and as he turned his hand, eyes bulging wide, you felt his palm. You held it there for a second, soon sliding your palms together, you intertwined your fingers with his. You were actually holding hands.

Luke’s mouth went agape and you met his eyes, sharing the same look of disbelief. Seeing a tear roll down the right side of his face you realized your emotions mirrored his as one dripped down on the left side of yours. He wiped it away with his thumb, gripping your face a little more roughly than he intended to, the excitement apparent in his shaky hands.

He soon loosened his grip, now caressing your cheek, creating friction as he rubbed back and forth, replacing the chill of the night air on your skin with warmth. His fingers, then moved to your chin, then he poked your nose, brushed his fingertips against your eyelashes, till he finally rolled them against your lips, slowly. He couldn’t believe he felt you. The feeling was something even a dream couldn’t conjure up, something that even he couldn’t describe in a lovely song lyric; this was perfection; this was, indeed, love.

This revelation brought with it courage and with that he finally willed himself up off that chair and yanked your arm that was connected to your still intertwined hands with it and at once you became one with a hug. One so fierce and tight you couldn’t breath, his arms crushing your shoulders, his hands caressing your head, his fingers falling on the strands of your hair.

With one arm still around you, he moved one of his hands against your cheek once more, connecting his forehead to yours. You both relished in the closeness, breathing each other in.

“If I ever cross over, I bet this is what heaven feels like,” he said in a soft whisper, finally breaking the silence, but only adding to the moment’s loveliness. “I think you’re connected to my soul.”

-

-

-

Thank you for reading!

[kiyosamu]

painful reminders

(part 1/3)

——— ♡ ———

pairing: suna rintaro x female reader

genre: angst to comfort

cw: brief mentions and descriptions of assault (not from suna, not domestic violence), reader experiences post-traumatic stress, panic, anxiety

——— ♡ ———

“hey, i’m here now. you’re safe.”

the words echoed in your mind for a few seconds too long. you were hardly able to register their meaning while under the influence of your deep fear. you felt nothing but dread; impending pain and horror that you were sure was coming at any moment.

——— ♡ ———

suna slumped his body on the window of the train, trying to contort his larger than average build into a position comfortable enough to get a few moments of rest before arriving at his stop.

“attention passengers. there is a situation and we need to make an emergency stop at the next station. please gather your belongings and file out of the train as soon as we arrive.”

weird, he thought. must be another petty robbery. maybe someone refusing to get off of the tracks, or something exciting, like a mass murderer.

suna caught himself just as he had the thought, stopping his process immediately.

he shook his head, unimpressed at his ability to appear removed and disinterested no matter the situation. not to mention the scenarios running through his mind; scenarios that would terrify any sane person with an ounce of emotion no matter who they were.

suna scoffed and sat up to grab his bag.

of course, he knew it was nothing like that. that’s probably why he didn’t stay in his head and scare himself with anything further. why bother upsetting yourself by simply letting your mind run away from you? stupid, he thought. he never understood overthinkers. not only was it not productive, but it was exhausting.

thankfully, this station was only about a ten minute walk from the next, the one he was supposed to get off at. even though he was coming home from a tiring practice, the athlete never seemed to run out of stamina.

suna squinted as bright blue and red lights lit up the dark streets. rain began to pour and suna cursed his odds. the forecast predicted only a 10% chance of rain, and he just so happened to be getting caught in that unlucky percentage when he had to walk even further just to get back home.

he groaned and pushed his hair out of his face. the rain soaked his clothes, his sweatpants and shirt clinging to his body. suna felt disgusting and suddenly the thought of a hot shower was even more appealing than the leftover onigiri he had waiting in his fridge.

just as another thought of self pity was about to cross his mind, another police car flew by him.

must be pretty bad, wonder what happened..

that thought was as far as his curiosity went. if it was major, he’d probably hear about it on the news or in the paper. if not, well, it really was none of his business.

as he turned down the next street, he saw four police cars all blocking off the station. police tape sectioned off the area and officers stood with their arms crossed and chests pushed out as other vehicles pulled in.

he blinked a few times, taking in the scene for a second before realizing he’d stopped walking. suna brought himself back to reality and stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets. while he was shamelessly nosy as a teenager, he’d grown into quite the reserved young adult who knew how to mind his business.

unfortunately, that new trait flew out the window the second he heard a familiar voice.

——— ♡ ———

“officer, please. he said he’d come back for me, i don’t feel safe going home… i don’t have family here, i don’t have anywhere else to stay-“

“look. you’re just scared, but you’re not injured.” the man stared down at you with an emotionless glare. “there’s nothing more we can do for you. the suspect assaulted two other women and they’re cooperating. why are you asking us for more when we’ve done everything we can so far?”

his voice was as cold as your quickly declining temperature, the rain soaking through your t-shirt and causing you to shiver.

“he.. he held a knife to my throat. there’s-“ you lifted your hand to lightly trace the marks on your neck that had been squeezed in place only an hour before. “he said he was going to kill me but…” you trailed off, the night’s events playing over and over in your mind with no indication of stopping the endless repeat. “but then he saw the lights and ran. he said he’d be back for me…”

the officer sighed.

“criminals often utter threats to make their victims submit to their words and give in. they want to commit their crimes as quickly as possible. we’ve gone over this, you didn’t know him. he doesn’t know anything about you-“

“but what if he does?!” you shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks before you’d even realized you were crying.

“listen ma’am, you need to calm down-“ the officer grabbed your wrist and you ripped it away from him, covering your mouth and staring in disbelief at the officer. you were in shock. you couldn’t process what was going on, let alone what had happened. you didn’t know what to do.

you froze as you felt an arm around your shoulder. a familiar voice spoke your name with tenderness and a low, empathetic tone that you’d never heard from him.

“i’ll take her home, officer. she’s my neighbour.”

while that was true, you were still surprised at the gesture. rintaro suna had been your neighbour for 3 years. the two of you were friendly; you’d been to each other’s homes a handful of times and sometimes would share a meal or drop off some food that was too much for one person.

you were both single, living alone in your apartments. although you weren’t super close, you always felt like he was a friend. a slightly distant, reserved, quiet friend, but a friend nonetheless.

the two men exchanged words for what felt like an eternity before suna squeezed you closer to him, guiding you out of the area and walking you towards your apartment.

you opened your mouth to say something. anything. even just a greeting, a thank you for the escort home.

when you stopped walking, he stayed close to you and looked down at your expression.

you opened your mouth to say something but the moment you did, you relived the traumatizing situation once again and fell into a deep panic.

“i-i-… no-n..” your words broke as you felt your body shaking. the cold rain was doing nothing to help your condition, and if you could describe it in any way, it was like losing control of your own sanity. you felt the panic wash over you as the phantom pressure of the knife pressed against your windpipe - your mind quite literally putting you in a choke hold.

“hey. i’m here now, you’re safe.”

the words echoed in your mind for a few seconds too long. you were hardly able to register their meaning while under the influence of your deep fear. you felt nothing but dread; impending pain and horror that you were sure was coming at any moment.

suna wrapped his arms around you protectively. he didn’t know why, he didn’t even really know what was going on, but he knew that all he wanted to do in that moment was to prevent anything further from hurting you.

you clutched at his hand and dug your nails into his skin. you didn’t mean to, you didn’t even realize you were doing it. suna would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt, but he ignored it and held you close against him until you felt like you were okay to walk again.

when you caught your breath, you pulled his hand away from your face.

“i’m sorry… i don’t know what happened.” you choked out.

“you had a panic attack.” he said quietly. “we don’t need to talk about anything right now, though, okay? let me get you home. you went through something horrible and you’re freezing cold. it’s just a little more up the road, can you make it?”

you nodded, dropping your hands to your side and suna instinctively held onto the one closest to him.

“i’m scared to stay in my apartment… alone…” you whispered.

“you can stay with me.” suna said this with more certainty than suggestion. if anything, it was a statement. he was planning on having you stay over or even him staying at yours. whatever worked, he just didn’t want you to be alone and he knew you had nobody else to call.

he had never planned to get involved in your personal business like this. he didn’t want to be the weird neighbour, and he already worried if bringing you food some nights would make you uncomfortable.

those thoughts were always put to rest whenever you smiled at him and graciously accepted his gestures. your warm smile and the way your cheeks made your eyes squint when you were really happy was an image he’d always have trouble shaking out of his head for the following days.

suna snuck a glance at you as the two of you started to walk again. your smile that he swore could light up an entire city was nowhere to be seen.

he would do anything to see that smile on your face right now.

you looked like a shell of what you once were. he knew that you’d experienced something traumatic, but seeing you like this made him feel something hard in his chest.

you didn’t deserve that.

a painful squeeze developed deep inside him when he thought of what your face must have looked like when it had happened. a sweet girl who seemed to always bring out the bright side in any situation. you’d made him sweets (that he secretly broke his athletic diet for) when he’d lost an important game, and always made him smile whenever he saw you.

it was different right now. he felt anxious. he squeezed your hand in his and you didn’t even flinch, didn’t even seem to notice as you looked ahead with a blank stare.

on the other end, his touch alone was enough to give you the tiniest bit of comfort. it wasn’t much, and you were still scared, but it was enough to get you home.

——— ♡ ———

part 1 | part 2 (in progress) | part 3 (in progress)

[starrywolf101]

Sure, we could say that Tommy is physically normal after revival,

But that's no fun.

So, how about this:

People weren't made to been revived. Bringing the dead back has consequences.

When Tommy came back, he wasn't the same, and I'm not just talking about trauma.

His body is much more fragile, and is more zombie-like than human. He has phantom pains now, and any recent wounds rot really fast. Healing potions hurt him and potions of harming heal him. He's truly undead in every way except mentally. Being revived has more or less shoved his spirit back into a corpse.

This is another reason why he's afraid of pain, because witnessing his body rot away adds onto the trauma.

Scars litter his body, both old and new.

Even with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Puffy's support, he retreats into his head and dirt shack. He refuses to leave the space, terrified of everything.

But... when he meets Michael, something protective takes hold. Here is a child free of the traumas he and others have faced. Not only that, but Michael looks at Tommy and doesn't run and hide. He loves his big brother Tommy.

Tubbo and Ranboo watched the progress that Tommy has made since meeting their son. They've watched Tommy hide away from everything, afraid of even being touched, to going on walks with Michael and running around with the kid. With Michael, Tommy allows physical contact. He gives the kid piggy back rides, he reads out loud while Michael sits in his lap, and they've even napped together, with Michael curled into Tommy's body.

Sometimes, even if he doesn't get hurt, his scars rot away when not taken care of for a period of time. Tubbo has taken to treating Tommy when this happens, and even makes the boy do check-ups. Michael loves to help, playing doctor with Tommy. He's not disgusted by the rot like others are, and maybe that has something to do with them both being zombies of sort.

Even if Tommy is still scared of the world, he makes progress everyday. His support system are there for him.

And then something bad happens.

It was just a picnic with the four of them, and Michael had wondered off. Tommy left to look while Tubbo and Ranboo relax. None of them were particularly worried. Next thing they know, there's an explosion and loud squeals of fear. The two of them race towards the distressed sounds, only to find a creeper hole and a curled up figure at the bottom. Tommy was unconscious, injured, and curled around Michael. Luckily Michael didn't have a scratch on him, but thats because Tommy took the hit.

Tubbo, who always caries potions of harming for both his undead son and best friend, is quick to tend to Tommy while Ranboo calms their distressed child. While most of the burns and rot heals, Tommy took a lot of damage to his head— more specifically, his right eye. Tubbo would've gagged if he wasn't already used to gruesome injuries. He's learned to numb himself as a child soldier.

Tommy remains unconscious for a few days, and he stays at Tubbo's home in Snowchester. Michael sits by his bed, worried for his uncle. Tubbo assures the piglin child that Tommy was strong and would be up in no time.

The first thing Tommy sees when he wakes up is Tubbo, as Michael was long asleep after he'd been promised that Tommy would be looked after.

"Tubso...?"

Happy that his best friend was awake, Tubbo had pulled Tommy into a hug, though it was gentler than the normal bone-crushing embraces. "You scared us! What were you thinking!?"

Returning the hug as best as he could, Tommy answered: "I saw the creeper and acted, Big Man. What kind of big brother would I be if Michael got hurt?"

Apparantly, they weren't quiet enough, because both are alerted to the sound of small hoof-steps. Smiling, Tommy invites the kid into the bed, who immediately snorts happily and curls up into his side. And in that moment, Tubbo wants to cry tears of joy— he saw the way Tommy looked down at his son, and was reminded of how Wilbur used to look at Tommy and Fundy. Just the sheer amount of love... and Tommy wasn't even aware of his own expression.

When Tommy catches Tubbo's staring, he rolls his eyes and scoots himself and Michael over. "Get in here already, Big Man. Its late and I'm exhausted." With no further invitation needed, Tubbo climbs in and presses against Tommy's other side. That's how Ranboo found them in the morning (he took pictures so that none of them would ever forget.)

A few days after that, they take the bandages off Tommy's head and reveal his eye— just a socket now. Trying to make the best of the situation, Tommy cracks a smile and looks at Michael: "Looks like we're matching, Big M,"

Surprisingly, the creeper explosion didn't set Tommy back in progress. In fact, a little bit of the old Tommy was coming back to him after the experience. He started venturing out more, though not without armor anymore. He also finally moved out of that cruddy dirt shack and moved into Snowchester.

Tommy wore an eyepatch most of the time nowadays, not wanting people to stare at his socket. He only took it off around people he felt safe around. Those being Puffy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Michael. He still got the odd looks at the eyepatch from people who didn't know, but those that did never commented on it.

With the mansion nearly complete, Ranboo decided that he wanted to move some of his stuff in. While he still lived in his cabin by Techno, he also wanted to stay with Tubbo and Michael. So the compromise was that he'd live in both homes. With that settled, Tommy promised to help Ranboo move some of his things over.

Now, this was the first time since right before the "final confrontation" with Dream that he's seen Techno and Phil. Of course, they'd heard he was locked in the prison, and there was a rumor going around that he died, but neither realy knew what he went through.

So of course Techno starts a fight with Tommy about being on his property.

Of course Tommy's stubbornness gets the best of him and he immediately starts arguing back. Ranboo watches the train wreck that is Techno and Tommy's relationship. Phil stands behind Techno, only jumping in to agree with his friend.

"And whats even with the eyepatch? It looks so stupid!"

Snarling, Tommy clenches his fists. "You wanna know whats with the eyepatch? Fine." He rips it off to reveal the rotting socket. It was about time for the weekly checkup anyways, but he wanted to help Ranboo first.

Shocked silence falls over the two anarchists, and Tommy feels a sense of satisfaction.

"...I– Tommy?" Phil was at a loss for words.

"It turns out being revived from the dead isn't all sunshine and flowers. But, I guess neither is being beat to death by your abuser either, innit."

They were already carrying everything that Ranboo wanted to take with him, do with that, Tommy starts to head back for the nether portal.

Suddenly pulled from his shock, Techno reaches for Tommy, wanting– no, needing an explanation. The voices in his head were all confused on how to feel, and he felt much the same. "Theseus–"

Ranboo grabs Techno's wrist before he could touch Tommy. Ranboo, who had talked about having the backbone of a chocolate eclair, had a look in his eyes. Something dangerous and protective that made Techno back off. "Do not touch him." Ranboo had hissed before realizing what he did and getting flustered. "He, uh– he doesn't like being touch..." Ranboo mumbles before hurrying after Tommy.

Techno and Phil are left to wonder what happened to a boy once so full of life. The thought that they were partially of fault for this weighed heavy on them.

---

I didn't really go back and proof read this, it was mostly just a single stream of consciousness over the past couple hours of writing.

Edit: [Masterpost]

[yandere-wishes]

MONSTERS

👹 Yandere Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

👹Summary: Monsters aren’t born they're made, but Sukuna stumbles across the rare exception...

👹Warning: dehumanization, mention of gore, blood, slight dub-con mentioned in passing, death, past trauma, and abuse

👹 Edited: By the lovely @tealyjade-libran !

👹 Wordcount: 2,480

👹Alternative Tittle : If Roxanne ( from the Police song) lived in ancient Japan.

👹First Jujutsu kaisen fic! I hope you guys like it, please let me know your thoughts! Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Monsters were made. 

Slowly created as once blazing ideals, withered and died under harsh strokes of reality. Stitched together with broken promises and the ashes of rotting memories. 

Monsters were made

whisked into a role they once dreaded, once feared. Beaten into the role of the villain, the reprobate, the sinner. 

If anyone ever asked Sukuna when was the exact moment he turned his back on the laws of "good" and "evil", shedding his human skin to regrow a pelt of hate and destruction,

He would simply answer, "Never".

Because skin is skin no matter how much it decays. Even if the epidermis turns into a rotting orange shade, littered with eyeballs and teeth that shouldn't grow there.Even if the blood from all those he's slain has finally stained his dermis, tainting it in a permanent crimson that all the waters of Lake Biwa could never wash off. Even if his hypodermis is no longer made of fatty tissue but rather spiritual energy sucked from the atmosphere. It's still skin, the same old skin he was born with.

Sukuna had never shed his skin, he'd only perfected it, enhanced it, molded it into its perfect form, until he was no longer held back by foolish human limitations.

He'd never been "reborn" only recreated; only perfected. 

Spike, talon and teeth covered arms sprouting from oozing, bleeding scars, charred over by begriming infections that burned worse than the strikes he'd endured as a child. Knuckles and bones cracking over and over and over again until they grew as solid as the rocks that were thrown at him when he was all too little to understand the malice behind the insults and threats. Breaking until they could break no more, until they'd become strong enough to split a boulder with a mere flick.

There had come a time when he'd given up licking his wounds, leaving them to be kissed by the mold-covered worms who left an urticating sensation he'd soon come to associate with victory. Rotting flesh growing covered in thick layers of black tar tattoos that hid every cut he'd endured when he'd once been too weak. 

Monsters were created from quarter truths buried neck-deep in fables that snipped like red-eyed scorpions. 

Until the blood dancing through their veins was as black as the void they now called home. 

Sukuna knew the exact moment he realized he was a monster. The day he realized he liked the crunch of skulls beneath his feet, the pitiful spark in mortified eyes staring at the heavens for a scrap of mercy. Mangled mouths barely held together by fractured jaw bones, uttering prayers and pleas that died in the scorching air. 

Sukuna knew he was an abnormality, patched together by broken heirlooms and shattered family traditions. Sitting on a throne made from skulls of those who thought they could ever kill him. 

You can't kill a monster, for you can not kill that which was never born. 

You can't slay something made from good intentions with malevolent methods, something so vile that it might actually be pure. At the end of the day, no monster really admits that it is a monster, a nightmare that should have never existed. 

Yet...

Tattered hearts and cruel orbs are never quite enough. No monster is complete until they dive off that last edge, plummet into the sea of nothingness, and finally, finally break their souls on the spiked soil. Monsters, spirits, curses any malicious being that had been mended together like a half-done ragdoll was not complete until they truly let go. Until they erased all the former humanity that they had been born with. Until their eyes reflected nothing, no emotions, no malice, no want, no need. Just the absolute emptiness. 

The void in all its glory.

that was the symbol, the true markings of a real monstrosity. The void that took over their existence, that had replaced every inch of their former self. Only then could it be said that you were above all other beings, the true perfection of this world. 

There are worse things created than monsters, things that are made from nothing and everything. Things above "Yin" and "Yang". Things that have no scrap of humanity, monstrosity, or anything in them.

Things that are just empty.

So maybe -just maybe- that's why when Sukuna's rotting orange eyes landed on the epitome of emptiness, a...girl, whose face was sculpted to disreflect emotions and intents. Someone who was the void of darkness itself. The true personification of nothingness. 

His heart -for the first time in countless centuries- began to throb.

a truly dead face swarmed by a sea of buzzing ants, chasing their routine happiness. Smiles of delight and carelessness carved on their aging faces with sunlight knives and the melody of golden coins. The lust for life leaking from every pore of their bodies. 

With every face being a carbon copy of each other it was no wonder yours stood out.

There was a silver chain of attraction, dragging Sukuna towards the village girl. Not love, never love, the king of curses was beyond certain, that neither you nor he could feel such a honey-laced sensation. It was more like....something. Something paranormal, inexpiable. Some magnetic force outside of everything's control. 

It was easy enough to explain why he liked you. Why you stood out from the other insects of this middle-of-nowhere-village. 

You had dark matter for blood and dead seas for brains. 

Your eyes radiated an endless abyss. Making others shy away from your lifeless gaze. Scared to look into the void in fear that it may respond. 

You were a thrown away doll,

A living dead,

A dying star,

You were the daughter of the number zero,

The monster that had no maker nor mother. 

Something not born nor created. 

Just an entity that roamed the earth, with no desire nor hope, no wish nor dream. Not leaving, not dying, just existing in the space between today and tomorrow. 

There'd been no need for pleasantries, for hiding behind ghostly tree branches and frozen windows. There'd been no need to kill or ravage for you. No competition to eliminate, because no one ever came near you. Humans don't like what they can't explain, Sukuna knew that all too well. 

Sukuna watched from a close enough distance to almost touch. Lingering around like a phantom begging to be noticed. Orbs trailing over you, but never approaching. Until one day he'd just stood still. Waited for you to turn your head just a fraction to the left, just to see him in all his menacing terror. To finally notice the clawing, crawling sensation that had been creeping up your spine like a hoard of spiders. 

And when your dead eyes did finally land on him. Sukuna could swear that his breath hitched in his throat for the first time in his seemingly endless life.

You weren't human. Humans didn't have hollow faces or marbles for lips. 

You weren't a curse. Curses didn't lack venom dripping from their souls.

You were something better than a monster. You were the divinity of monstrosity, the void itself. Black holes for eyes, answerless paradoxes for hands, and an endless maze where your torso should have been. 

 Exploding suns danced around you, burning, burning, till they died out, leaving behind no trace that they once lit up the universe. 

The space after the end, that's what you were.

Perfect, to Sukuna you were perfect.

You hadn't run, hadn't screamed, hadn't even bothered to talk. You didn't care about him, couldn't care about him. That's what made him want you, made his mouth salivate with the thought of your flesh between his teeth. 

That night the world stood still, as Sukuna's claws penetrated your flesh like twirling needles. You were as light as a feather. You weighed nothing, were nothing. All so easy to pluck and throw about. You never made a noise when your body collided with the bamboo walls, just letting gravity and Sukuna play a twisted ball game with your lump of a body.

You hadn't protested when he violated you. As his lips bit every inch of your body raw. For some unearthly reason that even the gods couldn't understand, would never want to understand, you had found the Curse's violent actions rather...adoring. Taking every slap and slash with the earnest pride of a small child getting praised for a day of relentless chores. letting the dawn-tinted-haired monster adorn your body in blue and purple jewels. It felt right, in a  pathetically, nauseating, twisted way...it just felt right.

 It was disastrous, sure, but it was right. Like two universes crashing. Destroying each other with every kiss and every bruise. 

But...

For the first time in your meaningless life, you had truly understood what "happiness" felt like. 

For the first time in his endless life, Sukuna had truly understood what "intimacy" felt like.

///

Was it wrong to kiss you? For a fraction of a second Sukuna hesitated, blood tinged lips hovering millimeters away from your own stone-set ones. The moon's cursed rays acting like an unnoticed barrier, keeping two things out of each other's grasp. His lips curled back revealing two rows of knife-like teeth. The last resort, a final hope that you'd run away, that you'd act somewhat normal. The king of curses, the evil among men, didn't mind your lack of regularity. He didn't mind how you leaned into every bitter strike, every painful display of fading affection . He adored how you merely giggled as he slashed open your uncharged skin, creating slits for your blood to spill through, onto his waiting tongue. He admired your lifelessness, the way you radiated death. 

Oh, how you filled him with a startling aftershock every time he touched you. Every time his tongue lapped at your bleeding skin he'd feel the sort of electric shocks that came after the storms had passed. Your body had no shape, it molded to his touch, turning his favorite shades of red, with just a little pressure. 

But sometimes, in fleeting, endless seconds. He wished he had a name for what you two were. You weren't his per se, you could never be his. Being his would indicate that he cared about you, or heck even loved you and that could never be true. The king of curses did not love, nor care. He merely tolerated you; you fascinated him, that's all. 

It had been many moons since he first found you in that no-name village. Months upon months since you'd been by his side. You'd watched as he'd destroyed cities, helped him even. Eyes never shedding a single tear. Mouth never uttering a single protest. 

The two of you had become the best, the King of curses and the Queen of nothingness. With the dying speed of laboring bees, Sukuna had carved himself inside of you. Twisted emptiness into flower-covered destruction. Into molten gold lava. 

Leaving you with wounds that were stuck in a cycle of healing and opening. Until they began to harden like his. Until the need for spilled blood lingered on your tongue like the burn of boiled tea. Until under your nails were coated in a decaying crust of dried blood. Sukuna hadn't turned you into a monster, he'd simply showed you the powers that came with your apathy. With a heart as torn and cold as yours, it was a shame to let it go to waste. 

"You're not half bad," his tone is never approving. It's always laced with a strictness that keeps you nailed into place. His words are oxymorons sounding like praise, but once you peel back the lather layers they're just taunts in disguise. 

You don't answer, words die on your tongue as quickly as they are born. Sukuna can't even remember what your voice sounds like outside of small whispers in heat filled nights. 

 However, to the two of you, things like that didn't matter. Your lack of being even semi-alive and Sukuna's endless abuse had become a norm for the two of you. Where else were a two-faced monster and a lifeless girl going to find love anyway? 

Sukuna was all you had, all you ever had. You'd die for him, kill for him, turn into anything for him. Because he gave you life. 

A purpose to life, made out of raging fires and endless screams. A life fabricated from the pain and suffering of others. That was what the king of curses had given you, all wrapped in a human skin parchment. Maybe that's why all logic withered away the first night he kissed you, maybe from the first second that you sensed his presence you had finally gained a reason to be alive. 

///

Whoever said the end of the world was beautiful? Whoever said the final days would be bright and glowing and pure? 

It's just a blaze of stray flames and red crystal droplets that may or may not be your blood. Funny, Sukuna had always thought that your blood would be as black as the moonless sky, not a mundane red like everyone else's. He'd expected a grander death from you. Some sort of black hole opening to swallow the world whole. Not just another corpse motionless in a pool of their own blood. 

Although he's not one to talk. His own 'death' is lingering on the horizon. Sukuna's head tilts back looking for the flashing jujutsu sorcerers. 

"S-sukun-a..." 

He smirks, fangs sticking out at odd angles. Your voice is sweet, for the first time in forever he'd even dare say it held some semblance of emotion. 

What that emotion is, he doubts he knows or even really cares. He'd long since stopped trying to identify all those "feelings" and their associated names. 

His orange eyes lock with your fading orbs, one last time. No, not the last time, just the final time in this lifetime. He's sure he's going to see you again. In any other life, Sukuna knows he'll be able to recognize you despite whatever flesh suit you'd be wearing. 

"Shh little one," he's halfway gone before he finishes his sentence, leaving you to relish in his memory in your final moments. "We'll see each other once more, someday in another life..."

His four eyes lock on the approaching sorcerers. He finds it humorous how desperate they look. How alive and ready they seem, such a stark contrast to your ever lifeless face and dead eyes, it repulses him. 

"Or maybe in one of the circles of hell." 

The flames encircling his fingers remind him of the heat your body radiated in the dead of night. The crack from bones hum as they meet his knuckles, flash memories of your days wasted together doing nothing and everything. 

The two of you will meet once more, he's sure of it. After all...

Monsters never die. 

How could something that was never even born in the first place, ever die?

[trampohlena]

Okay, so after last night’s episode I would just like to say that Supercorp IS Endgame. I’d also like to point out the various reasons as to why Kara and Lena are not only soulmates but true twin flames.

For those reading this post who have never heard of the term twin flame: “A twin flame is your own soul, shared across what appears to be two physical beings. It’s one soul, split into two bodies.” -Google’s definition.

For those who are spiritually inclined and have a proclivity for indulging esoteric philosophies; Lena and Kara are ABSOLUTELY twin FUCKING flames 🔥🔥🔥!!

Here are the reasons why:

1. Their drastically different childhoods that resulted in remarkably similar trauma.

Both Kara and Lena have experienced great loss throughout their life. Both mourned the death of their parents, and life as they knew it, at a very early age. Both were shipped off to a foreign land, forced to leave behind everything they knew, in hopes for a brighter/safer future.

Albeit, Lena got the shorter end of the stick in regards to unconditional love, but both were given a second chance and a new start...and yet, they still never fit in, or felt like they truly belonged.

Although they individually have dealt with said trauma in different ways (Lena by pushing away those who try to get too close, and Kara by holding on tightly to those she holds dear) both of their actions are motivated by the same subconscious fear that they HAVE never and WILL never TRULY belong. All while yearning for a sense of “home”.

2. They are opposite reflections of each other; true “mirror souls”, if you will.

Physically, aesthetically, economically, and emotionally—they are complete “mirrors” of one another.

Kara is strong, physically powerful, cut from marble, all hard edges and sharp lines—except for her face. Lena is clearly not as physically powerful, she is soft, all curves, and exudes the grace of the Devine feminine energy—except for her face, which is hard edges and sharp jaw lines. You see what I’m saying?

Aesthetically and economically go hand in hand of course. Lena’s exorbitant wealth is evident in her high-end designer appearance; whereas Kara’s aesthetic is more humble and grounded, and prioritizes comfort over “fashion”. (Let’s admit it. Some of Kara’s fashion choices have been questionable. She clearly rocks the chinos and button-downs better than anything else in that eclectic closet of hers she refuses to come out of 😏)

Emotionally...oh honey. Do I need to say more? I won’t say much but I will say this: Kara is the sun and Lena is the moon. They compliment each other in a way that ensures the world keeps turning.

3. Their individual strengths are the other’s individual weakness and vice versa.

Goes along with the aforementioned “opposite reflection” point above but I’ll expand a bit further in regards to their specific personality traits.

Lena is predominately analytically driven, whereas Kara is emotionally driven. Lena is good in crowds, Kara is not (overwhelmed). Lena is introverted, Kara is extroverted. Lena is detail oriented and has the memory of an elephant, Kara is clumsy and as forgetful as a Pisces (but hey, she has a lot on her plate and barely any free time to balance it). Lena eats like a rabbit-bird-hybrid and Kara eats like a garbage disposal. Kara loves giving and receiving hugs and other forms of physical affection whereas Lena does not (UNLESS it’s from Kara, of course). Etc. Etc. you get the picture.

4. Now this one is the DEAD GIVEAWAY. Undeniable, irrefutable PROOF that Lena and Kara are twin flames.

They are LITERALLY completing what is know as the Twin Flame Journey or the Twin Flame Union.

The stages of Twin Flame Union are roughly as follows:

1. Yearning for “the one”. I think every human being that believes in love experiences this whether it’s throughout their entire life, or only their adult life until they meet this person but yeah. You get it. Kara has always wanted that “Wapow!” moment.

2. Glimpsing/meeting “the one”. Whether it’s only for a short moment, an extended meeting, or perhaps merely locking eyes with them as you pass each other by...you feel immediately connected. There is an instant soul recognition when meeting them, so much so that you could have sworn you’ve met them before or that it’s as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

Remember when Kara met Lena? And she was gaga-eyed over Lena? Or when Lena felt so comfortable around a new acquaintance that she granted an almost stranger unbridled access to her office? Or how about when Red Daughter flew to America (the country she was taught to hate), with no recollection/memories of Kara’s relationship with Lena (again, the woman she was taught to hate), all because she felt PULLED to do so. And then when she did meet Lena she looked at her and practically drooled over her as if Lena was a double XL cheeseburger with extra special sauce from Big Belly Burger? Like, biiiitch 👀

3. Falling in love. Need I say more? Fine, again, I will. You CANNOT tell me that there is no way in hell that these two morons are anything BUT in love with each other. That’s a lot of double negatives and I appplogize so let me reiterate for clarification: THEY ARE IN LOVE AND YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND!

And at this point is it so freaking BEYOND platonic love, the show cannot explain it away or sweep it under the “just close friends” rug. No. Kara used her Fifth Dimensional Wish (she literally could have wished her entire planet didn’t explode) and she said “make Lena not mad at me, I’m sad 😔” 👀. Mmmkay. Not to mention Lena picking Supergirl over Jack, her former lover. Or the plethora of other times Lena chose Kara/Supergirl over everyone else she knew. Mmkay.

4. The fairytale relationship/friendship. Lena has finally found someone she can depend on, be vulnerable with, support her without judgement, trust with her life etc. and Kara has finally found a true best friend, not her sister, not Kenny who she didn’t realize was her best friend till after he passed? And now he’s not dead?? But her one true best friend that she felt she didn’t need to be neither Supergirl, nor Kara Danvers, but rather Kara Zor-El around (despite Lena not knowing that little tidbit of information).

They were each other’s best friend. Each other’s person. They were happy.

5. Outer Turmoil and Inner Purging—Supergirl and Lena fight. Lena still does not know that Kara is indeed Supergirl and does not pick up on the brewing tension between herself and Kara.

Kara of course is riddled with guilt and her relationship with Lena becomes strained. This outer turmoil creates inner purging by bringing out negative traits in each other. I.E. Lena hiding kryptonite and also Kara asking James to spy on her. Shit gets messy but they still try to make it work.

6. The Runner and the Chaser/Separation Stage—Tensions mount between the two and Lena FINALLY learns about Kara’s secret. And she has a choice to make. So what does she do? She runs. Not physically but emotionally. She completely withdraws from not only Kara and their friends but also withdraws from herself.

She literally experiences cognitive dissonance and becomes someone she is not. Someone other people made her believe she was on the inside, even though Kara knows that it isn’t. And so, Kara chases her.

Lena becomes the runner and Kara becomes the chaser as they navigate this separation stage.

Continuously running and continuously chasing.

7. The Surrender and dissolution stage—they’re fucking done. They’re tired. They’re exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally after all the bullshit they put each other through as well as all the bullshit Lex and the Phantom Zone put them through.

They come to an impasse in regards to Lex and realize the only way to defeat him is to work together, as a team. (El Mayarah anyone?)

They surrender to their emotions and to each other as their egos dissolve and their souls expand after having learned invaluable life lessons. The major one being: THEY CANNOT LIVE HAPPILY WITHOUT EACH OTHER!

8. The last stage that we have yet to see but we fucking better or else I’m gonna January 6 the CW studio building—“Oneness”.

This time, I’m not gonna say more.

So, in conclusion: Supercorp is Endgame because Lena Luthor and Kara Zor-El Danvers are the literal definition of a twin flame, soulmate connection. They are the same soul, manifested in two physical forms, for the sole purpose of expanding their soul’s consciousness.

They deserve to be happy, they deserve to be together. Not only does their union parallel some of the greatest love stories throughout history, i.e. Romeo and Juliet, Darcy and Bennet, Superman and Lois (duh) it would also break the curse of generational karma and illustrate to anybody who watches the show that the only person who defines who you are is YOU. Not a name, not a legacy, not society’s expectations, YOU. And most importantly of ALL...it would showcase that love truly does conquer all.

I rest my case.

TPTB, make Supercorp Endgame or kick rocks ✌️😘

Sincerely,

An empassioned fan with way too much time on her hands.

[reflections-of-mobius]

@thehordemultimuse asked:

Hope: Omgee! It's my weird roommate! She's really tall and... pretty... AHEM. Anyway, she's probably part of some weird mafia. I don't know where she's getting all this money. I leave in the morning for classes, I come in the evening after work, and she's still chilling! Don't know why she's staying with me then but I don't really want her to leave. She's a sweetheart, really... [Hope @ Ten for the thought meme]

[What does your muse think of mine? | Accepting!]

'I'm glad I met Hope...fae's been so kind to me since I first showed up at her doorstep a few months back. I really need to find a way to make it up to her, outside of rings... I know Mobius revolves around those (this civilization around), but I pay faer rings for rent, so I can't just....humph...maybe I can explore the nightmares of some fashion-backwards idiot...offer those ideas to Hope...? Would she even like them?...'

[hyuckssunchip]

Blooming Pt. 1

Pairings: Jisung x Reader, ft. nct dream, lucas (honorary member of dream)

Words: 7.5K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, fluff

Synopsis:

Love isn’t as easy as it seems, Park Jisung is an advocate of that. A blooming relationship that has prematurely ceased can be re-sparked years later, or can it? Will Jisung be able to overcome his fears in order to succeed in what he deems love?

Part 1 | Part 2 

Freshman Yr.

Hey Jisung,

I know that this is kinda random and I only have the guts to do this now because I probably won’t see you again but here goes. I think you are a really sweet and cool guy and I wish I had gotten to know you better, probably because I had a big crush on you... I just thought I would send this to you because I know it’s nice to know and it’s probably a little bit of a confidence booster. (I also kinda wanted to get this off my chest). Sorry for the essay and you don’t have to respond to this if it’s awkward … I hope you stay safe especially with what’s going on right now 

You held your breath, panicking at the loading sign on your phone. Welp, it was too late now.

You were pacing back and forth in your living room, nail very much in your mouth as you bit them anxiously.

“I just sent it.” You breathed out, “Oh my god, I just sent it.” At this point you were nearly in tears you were so nervous.

“That’s good. It’s like one a.m. though, so don’t be too worried if he doesn’t answer right away.” You nodded into the receiver, and although your best friend couldn’t see you, she still understood your silence.

You had called your best friend earlier to ask for her advice about the guy you had told her about months ago. It was the last quarter of school for this year and you finally had the courage to confess to him. 

Your best friend Megan was a little bit more experienced than you and she laughed when you had told her you wrote drafts, and you promptly sent it to her.

“He’s not writing back.” You told her, staring intently at the screen, refreshing it every few seconds as if that would make him answer. 

“Well of course not, you literally sent it ten seconds ago. Besides I told you, it’s late, he might just reply in the morning.” She sighed at your panicked state.

“Oh my god! He read it.” You bit your lip, staring at the numbers below your text.

“Oh.” She giggled, “Cute, he has read receipts on like you.” 

You barely had time to comprehend what she had said when you gasped out, “Oh my god. He’s typing, he’s typing! There’s bubbles.”

She laughed, “Wow, that was fast.”

You weren’t exactly paying attention to her, focused very much on the bubbles that were still there. Then suddenly they stopped.

“They stopped.” You felt the need to relay everything to her.

“That’s fine, he’s probably just reading over it.” You nodded, trying to convince yourself. But you couldn’t because nothing ever came. It was almost 25 minutes later that you heard the familiar ding of your phone.

Hey Y/N! thanks for letting me know, it really is not easy but rip coronavirus really is kinda messing with everything. i think you’re a really nice person and if circumstances would have allowed, i would have wanted to get to know you more too. everything is kinda hectic rn and i wish you the besttt and stay safe too!!

Immediately you called Megan again. “It doesn’t look good…Listen to what he said.” You read the text, heart dropping with every word you read.

“What are you talking about? That’s a good thing. Y/N he said he wants to get to know you better too. That’s sweet. I think he’s just keeping it open though, cause there’s not much you guys can do anyways.”

“Yeah.” You tried to not let out how dejected you were, but it was clear to her.

“Hey don’t worry about it. If he doesn’t like you then he’s not worth worrying over.”

“Right.” You pouted despite what she said making sense. “Look I’ll call you later, I’ve got to go now.”

“Okay, Y/N, don’t stress too much about it, okay?”

You hummed back, mumbling out your goodbyes.

The moment you hung up, you threw your phone on the bed, falling next to it. You sighed, trying not to overthink everything.

That’s why you confessed now, so that if you were so badly rejected, you wouldn’t have to see him again. Right?

You groaned, closing your eyes, hoping that sleep would make you feel better. Or perhaps you would wake up and find that this was all a dream. 

You woke up and of course with habit, the first thing you did was look over at your phone. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, grinning at the screen. 

You weren’t thrilled that it was in reality a dream, but on the other hand things had become very real very fast.

NOTIFICATION

Park Jisung            5:18 a.m.

oh, are you still going back to school next year?

You smiled at the text, heart immediately choosing to beat faster than you would’ve liked. With a glance at the clock you realized it was 8:07 a.m. and you couldn’t stop yourself from replying the moment you saw it.

yeah, i’m planning on living off campus tho… are you gonna live off campus too?

You panicked, staring at the screen, knowing damn well that he wasn’t about to reply at 8 in the morning. You had to restrain yourself from calling your best friend that very moment, you were in a happy mood and waking her up would not keep that.

The entire day you were buzzing, constantly checking your phone for new notifications. For the first time you understood what phantom texts felt like. Every couple of minutes you were sure that you felt a text, but alas it was your imagination. 

It wasn’t until 4 p.m. when a real text came through, ringing loud and clear. You had turned your ringer on and off, making sure that it was working just in case.

yup! I’ll be living by the shopping complex in downtown. how about you?

Restraint was not easy for you, and you replied after a few moments passed. Megan had constantly told you to let at least a few minutes pass, but you couldn’t help it. Besides, read receipts were not in your favor.

Conversation seemed to come really easy to you, and after an hour of texting non stop he said he had one more final to take.

You understood and immediately felt bad, realizing that you had taken up precious study time for him. You wished him good luck and spent the rest of the night relaying every detail to Megan over the phone.

Little did you know that that conversation would be the last for a long time.

3 months later

It was time for a break. And what better way was there than a small kickback with your best friends after midterms?

“I brought the good stuff.” You were startled, laying on the daybed of your other friend, Camille’s room. It was the perfect spot for a kickback. A couple hundred feet from the main house, and completely stocked with all that you needed. 

You sat up glancing at the armfuls of alcohol Megan had snagged, don’t ask how she got it.

You giggled at the thought, watching as Camille helped unload. “Let the games begin.”

“Truth or Dare Y/N?” You groaned, turning away from the both of them. 

“You know I hate this game.”

Megan didn’t let up. “Camille has a pond.” 

That was enough information for you. You took a glance out the window, noting that it was freezing outside. You were not taking a chance on her intentions. “Truth.”

“Boring.” She sang, but nevertheless had a question set. “Have you talked to that boy since the last time you called me about him?”

You grumbled to yourself, taking a shot and grimacing. “No.” 

“Why not?” Camille asked, reaching for the bottle still in your hand.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, I’m too much of a coward to text him now. But he could text me first too you know. Especially cause I took the first jump. It’s probably because he doesn’t like me.”

You sighed, staring at the bottle again, tempted to take another shot.

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” You missed the look Megan shot Camille, already coming up with a new idea.

In the end you caved, choosing that perhaps another shot could bring you happiness. But it just burned your throat.

“Megan truth or dare?”

“Dare, duh.” You watched the proud look on her face.

“I dare you to… snapchat that dude that sent dick pics to fuck off.” Camille said, watching Megan’s face contort into delight.

“Hell yeah! It would be my pleasure.” She giggled, and you noticed that she was feeling the alcohol as well.

You felt the need to roll your eyes again.

“Done. And blocked.” She tossed her phone in the middle of the group with satisfaction.

“I don’t know why you just didn’t block him right after he sent them.” You commented, chewing on a gummy worm. 

She just shrugged, “I don’t know, it was kind of fun I guess. Anyways. Camille, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you really only see Carson as a friend?” Camille sputtered at the question, spitting out a bit of juice.

“No, I see him as a brother. That’s disgusting, besides he’s dating Bailee.” She shook her head, working to clean up the mess.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t like him.” Megan muttered, before dropping it and turning back to you.

“Y/N truth or dare?”

“Truth.” You mumbled out, not really paying attention.

“Come on, do at least one dare. It’s not fun if you only answer truth.” She whined, pushing another cup of jungle juice towards you.

You hesitantly sniffed the cup before taking a sip. A moment of silence passed as they waited for you. You let out a deep sigh, “Fine, dare. What do you want?”

“I dare you to text him.”

You froze, you knew that’s what she was going to say, but you were so out of it that you let it slide.

“You know I can’t do that.” You answered, wide eyed.

“It’s a dare.” Megan nodded at the window, insinuating the punishment.

“No, I really can’t. I’ll give you my phone though, but I can’t do it.” You dug the phone out of your backpack and tossed it next to hers, which she grabbed immediately typing in your password that she had memorized.

“Deal. I’ll just start it, then you can keep the conversation going.” You waved her off, choosing to drown yourself in as much alcohol as you could in hopes of forgetting that this happened tomorrow morning.

“Done. I just sent hey, with like three y’s and a smiley face. Not the emoji though.” Your mouth dropped at her.

“That’s so not me though. You know I use emojis, and I don’t do the all, heyyyy thing. He’s gonna know.” She just shrugged, sliding the phone back to you.

You sighed, staring at the empty screen, the other two returning to the game.

But it was three minutes later when your phone dinged, a text from Jisung lighting up your screen.

“Is that him?” Camille asked, peeking over at the screen.

“Yeah. I don’t wanna read it though, you do it.” You pushed it away, pulling your knees into your chest.

“I got you.” Megan paused. “See. Guys like the hey thing. He did it back, I don’t know what you were talking about, he’s totally into you.”

You grinned, crawling forward to see for yourself. The phone dinged again seconds later.

“Ooh, that’s hot. I like it when a guy texts in multiple bubbles, it shows they just text you what they think. They’re not planning it out or anything.” Megan commented, already typing in a response for you.

You watched over her shoulder, glancing at Camille who was doing the same. 

“Is this good?” You just nodded back, sitting back on your heels to take a break.

“Oh, wow. That was fast. He texted back.” Although she sounded impressed, she frowned at the text.

“What? What is it?” You asked, panicking at her expression.

“Nothing. He’s just… dry. Was he always a dry texter?” She asked, handing the phone back to you.

“No? I don’t know, I didn’t think he was dry, we texted for like an hour straight that one time.” You mumbled, looking at the phone disappointed.

“Well he seems pretty dry to me. Maybe you should text him, maybe you were right, my texting was too different from yours.” You bit your lip and nodded, trying to come up with a response to him.

You didn’t know if it was because you were drunk, or that he could tell you were drunk, but while the conversation did get slightly better, he seemed dry to you as well. It was after twenty minutes of texting that you couldn’t keep the conversation any longer. You became frustrated at the dwindling conversation.

You had chosen to contact him again after three months of ghosting each other, and now he was making it difficult to carry a conversation. Maybe he really doesn’t like you. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. Fine, you thought, you weren’t reaching out anymore. You didn’t want to be seen as pathetic, you could catch a hint. He just didn’t like you and was being nice. If he did actually like you, he could reach out to you.

This didn’t stop you from thinking about him for the month following the drunken incident. 

2 years later  Junior Yr.

“I swear if you’re late for this one too, I’m not setting you up on anymore blind dates!” You winced at the sound of your roommate cursing at you.

“I’m going!” You yelled back, slipping out the front door before she had a chance to attack you again. 

You managed to close door without hearing what ever else she had in store for you. 

Your keys jangled as you quickly tried to lock the bright red door, giving it one last tug of reassurance when you turned on your heel to find your car.

“Oof!” A body collided with yours, you were partially, well mostly at fault. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I should’ve paid more attention. It’s just, I was in a bit of a rush…” You trailed off, finally getting a good look at the other person’s face. “Jisung?”

He simply stared back with a blank look on his face, mouth hung slightly open. “Y/N?”

You hated how your heart quickened at the sound of your name from his lips. 

“I-I… wow…” You stuttered out, not quite able to act as natural as you had hoped. “Do you live here?”

“Uh… yeah, I live next door.” He pointed to your left, and when you followed his finger sure enough it was right next to your apartment. You missed the way that he looked you up and down, gulping at the sight of you in years. 

“Oh. Wow, what a coincidence, I guess.” You laughed out nervously, hands playing with your lanyard.

“Yeah.” He nodded back, not really making eye contact. Not that you were trying either.

“Well…”

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward silence between you two, and you cleared your throat to break some tension.

“I was actually on my way out, so… I’ve got to get going. But I’ll see you around.” You put on a fake smile that didn’t really reach your eyes, and shot him a wave before rushing off to your car. Once under the safety of your car, you sighed and tried to discreetly glance at the boy you hadn’t seen or thought of in years.

You shook your head, starting the ignition. It’s time to forget him, you told yourself, besides I’ve got a date waiting for me right now.

It wasn’t until Jisung was positive you could no longer see him, having driven off minutes ago, that he threw his head back and let out the deep breath he didn’t know he was holding. The blush he had been so desperately holding out finally came over his face, as he felt the heat burn his ears.

He had just begun to forget about you, from time to time, pausing over your conversation stream. Although it was torture, every once in a while he would read back all the texts, hating the way that they abruptly stopped. On occasion, mostly when he was drunk, but there were times when he was sober, he would even type out a text but fail to send it.

Jisung was never the outgoing type, he envied those who were. Those that could just strike up a conversation and carry on like it was second nature. But it was hard for Jisung. It took work and energy, and sometimes he didn’t have that. It was stressful and scary to Jisung.

It was a godsend when you reached out to him years ago, claiming so boldly your feelings for him. He wasn’t going to admit it, but then he had asked for his friends help in responding. It was Mark’s wishy-washy personality that had unbeknowingly sent your mind in circles that night.

It was Haechan’s straight-forward nature that had forced him to text you at 5 a.m. the next morning. He was tired of hearing about Jisung’s concerns as to why you didn’t reply earlier, complaining that if he was that worried just text her.

So he did.

And it worked. 

It worked so well. That hour he had spent texting you had butterflies dancing in his belly. He had never felt happier or more connected than at that moment. It wasn’t until his alarm rang, notifying him that he had five minutes until his last final did he stop smiling.

He was more than disappointed when nothing came out of the conversation. Of course he knew that it wasn’t just your fault, after all he had a phone, he could text you too.

And he tried, he really did. Multiple times. But every text he drafted was soon deleted and so the conversation ran dry. That was until three months later, May 16th.

But you always seemed to catch him at a bad time. It was Saturday, but his professor had given him an extension on his paper and it was due at midnight.

Your first text came at 10:58 p.m. 

It took all he had not to answer the text, and eventually he did cave. But as much as he wanted to focus on you he couldn’t, after all he had begged his professor to extend his deadline, he had to finish this. 

Maybe that’s why this time you didn’t seem so responsive. Maybe that’s why this time it only took twenty minutes for the conversation to end.

Maybe that’s why, after it took him forty-five minutes to respond to your last text, you left him on read.

“What’s with the long face dude?” His best friend, and housemate asked, slapping his back passive-aggressively.

“Nothing. And I don’t have a long face.” He pushed back, shoving him softly out of the way.

“Who was that? At the front door?” Jaemin asked, shoving a cookie into his mouth. 

“No one, just someone I knew.” Jisung muttered back, reaching out to steal one from the jar.

“Just someone I knew.” Chenle mocked back, leaning against the wall of the kitchen. “Right. We all could see the look on your face, that’s not just someone you knew.”

Jisung shrugged. “She was a girl I was texting.” He tried to pull it off nonchalantly, but it was evident to his housemates that it wasn’t nothing.

“Shit. Was that that girl you were talking to freshman year? The one you were head over heels for?” Jeno asked, grabbing a seat on a barstool, his laptop tightly in his grip. It was obvious he was working on something.

“Y/N?”Jaemin asked around the crumbs that filled his mouth.

“Ew. Gross. Have some manners dude.” Renjun said shoving Jaemin off the counter where he was perched, “And how many times do I have to tell you not to sit on the counter, that’s not sanitary. We have chairs for a reason.”

Jaemin made a face, but still moved to take a seat next to Jeno.

“Yeah.” Jisung frowned at the rest of the guys. “Did I make it that obvious?”

Renjun laughed, pulling a plate out of the cabinet. “You just talked about her everyday for a month. But no, not that obvious.”

“You should talk to her again, does she live close by?” Jeno asked, typing away at his computer.

“Yeah, she’s… uh… she’s our neighbor.” He rushed the last bit out, knowing that they would take advantage of the situation.

“Ooh! Our Jisung’s little girlfriend lives next door guys!” Chenle cackled out, “Guys, this is fate. And it’s our job to help out.”

Jisung scowled at him, knowing that Chenle meant what he said, “No. Guys leave her alone. Don’t make things weird. We’re going to be neighbors for the rest of the year, I don’t want to have to avoid her.”

“Avoid who?” 

“Haechan, how many times did I tell you to give me that key back?” Renjun asked, narrowing his eyes at the boy.

“Too many.” Haechan shrugged, letting Mark close the door behind him. “You can have this one back though, I’ve got two more copies at my apartment.”

Renjun threw his hands in the air, “I give up.” He picked up his plate of leftovers, opting to sit at the bar next to Jaemin.

“Who are we avoiding though?” Mark asked, settling against the wall next to Chenle.

“Y/N.” Chenle said, giving Mark a knowing grin.

“Y/N? Wait isn’t that...?” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, sporting his signature confused face.

“Uh-huh.” 

“Why are we avoiding her?” He asked, turning to Jisung, who had been awfully quiet.

“We’re not.” Jeno spoke up, finally shutting his laptop. “We just found out she’s our neighbor and Jisung doesn’t want us to do anything about it, cause he doesn’t want to avoid her.”

Haechan grinned, pulling out a glass and filling it up with water from the fridge. “So you still like her?”

“No.” There was an empty silence. “Yes.” 

Jisung sighed at the commotion his confession caused. 

“Well, don’t you think it’s our duty, as your friend, to help you out? After all, I feel like I am very invested in this budding relationship. I did help send the text that set things in motion.” Haechan boasted animatedly, accidently spilling some of his water, which he wiped up with this sock.

“No. I don’t think that it’s your duty. And please stay out of it?” He all but begged the rest of the boys. Much to his dismay, none of them looked like they were swayed. 

Jaemin clapped his hands together standing up, “Okay, how about some neighborly cookies? Everyone likes cookies.” 

Jeno rolled his eyes with a smile, but stood up anyways. “Sure I’m down, but no more of those peanut butter ones, those are shitty. Can’t we just do chocolate chip?”

Jaemin frowned, digging through the pantry cabinet. “You’re lucky we’re out of those. Chocolate chip it is.”

Haechan strolled towards Jisung, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “How about we get drafting then?” He snorted, “I think a nice love letter should do it.”

Jisung shoved him away with more force than necessary, “Get off me. And no. Stop it with the love letter thing, I was drunk and sad okay?”

Mark butted in before the two of them would really start fighting, “Actually I don’t think that’s a bad idea. I think she’d like that, like, slip it in with the cookies or something. Just say you’d like to see her again, and hang out.”

Renjun stood up, placing his dishes in the sink, “Dude this is why Jisung sent mixed signals in the first place, ‘i’d like to see you again’, ‘let’s hang out’. Can you get any more confusing than that?”

Mark frowned and cocked his head, opening his mouth to retort, but Haechan beat him to it.  “Then what would you say Renjun? ‘Oh how beautiful your eyes compare to a midsummer’s eve. May I court you this evening?’”

Renjun glared at him. “You’re not funny. And no. I was going to say, just tell her it was a missed opportunity. That you’d like to take her out on a date now that you can.”

Jisung shook his head violently at the sound of that. “How am I supposed to do that? That’s way too straight forward, what if she says no?”

“Dude, she likes you. Remember? She sent you that text. And if her feelings aren’t there anymore then… well… I don’t know. But the chances are low.” Jeno tried to reassure him, not doing a very good job of it.

Jisung sucked a breath in, ultimately letting out a hissing noise. 

“Trust me on this one Jisung. I make a mean cookie, we’ll just head over there later today and rekindle whatever you two have.” Jaemin cooed at the boy with a big smile.

“Right. Like I can trust all of you.” He muttered to himself, choosing to escape to the confines of his room.

“So… how was it?” Your roommate asked expectantly, a far change from the way she was speaking to you earlier.

You shrugged, “I dunno, he was nice I guess.” You shook your head. “I don’t know why you guys are all pushy on this stuff. Like I get it, but it’s weird trying to date someone that I’ve just met you know?”

Your roommate Alex just shook her head, waving you off. “Whatever, so did you like him or not? Is there gonna be a second date?”

You laughed at her, she was way too invested in your non-existent love life. “I don’t know, I think so. He was sweet and stuff, but like I said it’s weird.”

“Well, that’s the furthest you’ve gotten so far.” You sent her a glare. “I’m just saying. You always either end up leaving the date, or never seeing them again.”

“Shut up, I don’t-”

You were cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Alex and you exchanged glances, you weren’t expecting anybody.

She stood up, grabbing the bat next to the door, that your mother insisted you bring, ‘just in case’.

You huffed, moving past her, “You know, you could just look through the peephole.” You leaned forward squinting into the door, only to find a group of boys that seemed your age.

“Who is it?”

You pulled back, tilting your head, “I don’t know, just a group of guys.”

You unlocked the door, peeking out through the crack slightly, and you were greeted very enthusiastically by the boy in front.

“Hi!” He grinned, showing off a perfect set of pearly whites. He was waving very aggressively with his free hand, the other seemed to be holding a plate of cookies. “I’m Jaemin! We’re neighbors.”

After his quick introduction he shoved the plate towards you, never letting the smile leave his face.

“Uh… hi?” You weren’t quite sure what to say. 

Luckily Alex did, “Hi, I’m Alex and this is Y/N. That’s so sweet of you.” She smiled back, taking the plate from you. “Do you guys want to come in? We can crack them open right now.”

You stepped back, watching the trail of six- no seven guys just stroll into your apartment. 

“What the hell?” You muttered to yourself, closing the door softly behind the last boy.

“Hi Y/N.”

You looked up to see Jisung again, and you took a slight step back, startled at the sight.

“Jisung. Oh.” You barely let out.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to overstep or anything. The guys just wanted to meet you… all. They wanted to meet all of you… cause you’re our neighbors, and all…”

You blushed realizing that he had heard you comment, completely ignoring the way that Jisung was stumbling all over his words.

Haechan took no time in introducing himself, and taking the honor of introducing everyone else as well.

“I’m Haechan, this is Mark, Jeno, Chenle, and Renjun. You already know Jaemin, and I’m aware that you already know Jisung.” He grinned proudly after gesturing to each of the respective boys.

“Jisung?” Alex asked, eyebrows raised. You hadn’t told her about him. For one, it never came up, and secondly, it’s not like it was anything important now. That was years ago, you didn’t feel the need to inform her of every detail of your life, like him.

Haechan cocked his head, “Yeah. You didn’t know they knew each other?”

You furrowed your brows at him. “And how do you know that?”

Jisung shyly raised his hand next to you, embarrassed that he was outed for spilling the details to his friends. “Sorry, that would be my fault.”

You turned slightly, mouth dropping at his face, “Oh. I didn’t mean it like that. I..I- That came out wrong. I’m not mad or anything, I was just shocked.”

You bit your lip feeling guilty about the way he responded.

“Anyways.” Jaemin interrupted the awkward silence. “We just wanted to say hi and stop by. Maybe we can all hang out and stuff and be neighborly.”

He grinned, looking around at the group.

“Right.” You nodded slowly, “Thanks for the cookies, and it was nice meeting you all.” There was a forced smile on your face, but none of the boys seemed to notice or care.

Eventually the boys filtered out one by one, and you closed the door, sighing against it.

“They were nice.” Alex said, taking a bite in a cookie. “Oooh, and these are hella good.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, moving to sit on the couch.

“Why do you look like that? You don’t like them?” She asked, grabbing a glass for milk. “You and Jisung already know each other though. By the way, how do you know him?”

You rubbed your hand over his face. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, I have the rest of the day.” She sang back, taking a seat on the cushion next to you.

And so, now that Jisung was back in your life, you were left no choice to fill her in.

“Damn! That’s awkward as hell.” Her eyes were widened to the max.

“Yeah, I know. But I didn’t want them to feel super weird, cause you know, neighbors right? I just can’t believe my luck though.” You sighed leaning back, slouching down.

“Yeah, but do you like him though?” She asked, to which you whipped your head towards her.

“What?”

“Do you like him? I mean this could be really good for you. Actually it’s a win-win for everyone here. I can stop forcing you on blind dates and you can date the boy you’ve been pining after for years.” She shrugged like it was obvious.

“Okay, I have not been pining after him for years, and we’re not going to date just because I liked him two years ago. I mean, didn’t you get it from what I told you? He doesn’t like me.” You tried to shut her down.

“What are you talking about? Did you see him today? He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.” You frowned at her observation. You didn’t remember it the way she did, every time you looked at him, which wasn’t that often, he was desperately trying to avoid eye contact.

“No he wasn’t.” You nevertheless blushed at the idea. 

“Ooh, you’re blushing! Someone has a cru-ush!” She raised her voice, and you slapper her.

“Shut up, they’re right next door remember? They’re our neighbors.” She simply winked at you. 

“And no I don’t.” You added as an afterthought.

The small restaurant was bustling with energy, something the boys loved.

“Dude, why haven’t we been here before?” Mark asked, eyes wide with excitement, smacking Haechan’s shoulder unnecessarily hard.

Haechan tried to move away from him, but to no avail.

“I told you, Jeno always said this place was pricey.” He muttered back, giving in when he realised Mark’s habit wasn’t disappearing anytime soon.

“We shouldn’t have trusted Jeno’s cheap ass.” Renjun snorted, “The prices here look decent.”

“Hey!” Jeno tried to defend himself. “I’m a college student, everything is expensive.”

Jaemin threw an arm over Jeno’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Let’s just grab a booth.”

As they trudged down the busy pathway, Jeno spotted a familiar face.

“Hey isn’t that Y/N?” Jeno asked, elbowing Jisung in the side. But Jisung was already aware of your presence, he had been the moment they stepped into the restaurant.

“Don’t point.” Renjun slapped the boy’s hand down.

“I wasn’t-”

“Shut up.” 

“Wait… who’s that with her?” Jaemin asked the obvious, slurring his words at the end, as if just understanding the situation.

It seemed as if you were on a date, and Jisung’s heart dropped. It felt like his entire world came crashing down, like any and all hope he had in you went out the window.

Of course you would have a boyfriend, it’s been two years since you last talked, and it’s not like you were even an item. You texted for an hour. 

Jisung closed his eyes for a second, but the picture was still searing in his brain. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he told you that he liked you.

“I guess we didn’t think about that. That she could have a boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, I mean it has been two years.” Mark nodded, agreeing with Jaemin.

“Guys, not helping.” Renjun said between gritted teeth.

Jisung bit his lip, silently running over the image of you. 

Is that your boyfriend? How long had you been dating? Was it after he ran into you? If he asked you out then, would that be him? 

He had so many questions he wanted answered, but he would never get them.

Chenle pulled his arm roughly, trying to drag him into the booth. “Jisung you’re staring. Try not to make it so obvious.” He teased.

Jisung quickly averted his eyes, choosing to sit where he could watch you from his seat. His stomach felt queasy, maybe that was a bad idea. Suddenly he lost his appetite at the sight of you smiling so widely at something funny your date had said.

Mark glanced up from his menu, staring at Jisung who was now downing his water. He elbowed Haechan who was concentrating on the menu. 

“Dude, say something.” He hissed at him, trying to get Haechan to lift the mood. But for some reason, today of all days, he wasn’t having it.

Haechan just shrugged, shaking his head, “What do you want me to do?” Then he went back to his menu.

Mark bit his lip nervously, feeling uncomfortable at the sight of Jisung so anxious. He shot a look at Renjun who understood and at least tried to spark up conversation.

“So Jeno, who’d you come here with again?” He asked, an attempt at diverting attention from the elephant in the room.

“Uhh… some girl…” Jeno mumbled back, blushing furiously.

“Jeno’s blushing!” Chenle shouted out, his loud voice carrying across the restaurant. 

This had Jisung cracking a smile. 

“Dude, not so loud.” Jeno groaned out, sinking into his seat. He turned to glare at Renjun, “Did you have to bring that up?”

Renjun shrugged, but sent a small apologetic smile. ‘Sorry’ he mouthed at the embarrassed boy.

You had Chenle to thank for alerting you of the group’s presence. You pulled away from your conversation with Lucas and craned your head to get a glimpse of your neighbors.

“Do you know them?” Lucas asked, following your gaze.

“Oh, yeah, they’re my neighbors.” You said back, tearing your eyes from their booth.

“Yikes, they’re kind of loud.” He chuckled, “That must be rough on you.”

You gave him a smile, accompanied by your own giggle. “Lucas, in case you didn’t notice, you’re loud.”

He let out a fake gasp, holding his hand against his chest, “Me?”

You laughed, “Lucas, on our first date you thought we had so many complaints about the ‘loud dude in the booth’ that they asked us to leave.”

He frowned, “It’s not my fault my voice carries. And I have a very pleasant laugh, they should’ve been happy to hear it.” He pouted, “But we got ice cream to make up for it.”

You bit your lip, holding back your grin at the memory. “Yeah and it was freezing out.” You paused watching his expression, “But it’s never too cold for ice cream, besides, I wouldn’t have gotten your jacket out of it. And by the way, I’m keeping it. It’s soft.”

He smiled widely, immediately agreeing with you. “I’m just gonna use that excuse to see you again.”

You returned his sentiment, it wouldn’t be all that bad to meet Lucas again. You seemed to enjoy yourself every time you met.

“Oh. Jisung, hey.” You let out surprised.

“Hi.” He smiled at you shyly, staring back at you.

“Hi.” You blushed at the awkward tension between the two of you.

You turned and locked the door quietly before facing your neighbor again. “I was just heading out.”

“Right.” He mumbled, retreating back towards his apartment.

“I was going to the bookstore to pick up some things…” You trailed off, watching his expression, “If you’d like to come…?”

You immediately regretted your offer, ducking your head to hide your embarrassment. “You don’t have to, that was-”

“Sure.”

You froze, quickly snapping your head to meet his gaze.

“I uhh… have some things to take care of too.” He stumbled over his words to accept your offer.

“Oh, okay.” You smiled shyly at your feet, a strange feeling in your stomach turning.

You nodded in the direction of campus, trudging forward slowly at first to let him catch up. Soon enough the two of you were keeping pace.

A few minutes passed before Jisung cleared his throat, “So what are you getting from the bookstore?”

You nodded to yourself, “I have a textbook I ordered. It’s ridiculous isn’t it? How insanely overpriced it is, and it’s not like it’s even possible to pass the class without it. I mean I’m paying enough for college, now I have to pay on top of that.” You took a breath and chuckled nervously, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant on you.”

Jisung grinned at the way you were so worked up, “No not at all. I totally agree. It’s a rip off, I mean why not just make it part of tuition, we’re paying enough as it is.”

You nodded, “Right? It’s not right to make it required, like I could totally pirate it online, but if the professors make our homework using the online site to turn it in, that’s not even an option.”

You sighed exasperated, and missed the look on Jisung’s face. He seemed to enjoy the way you raved on about something as simple as a textbook.

You paused at the sound of his laughter from beside you, and you turned to look at him with a smile, enjoying the sound. 

It was a fifteen minute walk to campus, and another five to the bookstore. And before you knew it the building was looming over your heads.

Jisung jogged a few paces before you, reaching for the door. You paused, watching as he stood aside, holding the door for you.

You blushed, perhaps, as they say, chivalry isn’t dead. “Thank you.”

You reached your hand up, pressing your cold fingers against your burning cheeks, an attempt to chase away the color.

“So which class is it for?” He asked, looking around, and thankfully not noticing your heated face.

“Economics.” You replied, lifting your head in search of your department.

The two of you wandered around for a few more moments, not searching particularly hard for the book in question.

“Look, introduction to Korean Pop Music.” He laughed, pointing at the textbook. “Can you believe there’s a whole course on that?”

You smiled, looking. “I dunno, it seems interesting. Besides, there’s classes for classical music, and pop music, why not K-pop?” 

He nodded back, giving you a glance.

“Here, economics.” You mumbled out, walking down the long corridor. You ran your fingers along the spines of all the books, stopping at the familiar title. “Jesus, 98 dollars.”

He frowned, sidling up next to you. 

Sighing you reluctantly pulled the book off the shelf. “Ready?”

Jisung looked at you under heavy brows.

“You’re going to get it?”

“It comes with the online version. I mean I have to get the online portion, might as well get the hardcopy for free with it.” You nodded towards the check out, stepping towards the staircase.

He followed in suit, stuffing his hands in his pocket. He ran into your back after you stopped abruptly, suddenly remembering something.

“Oh, didn’t you have to get a book?”

Jisung’s eyes widened, “Oh yeah.” At that moment he reached out and grabbed what seemed to be a random book from the closest table, but you chose to ignore it.

He raised the book, and gave you a smile.

Your eyebrows shot up, “Introduction to the female reproductive system?”

Jisung suddenly turned very pale, as he tried to play it off. “Yeah, ummm… for my biology class.”

You grinned, nodding like you believed him. But you chose to continue up the stairs, unable to watch as his face contorted. While you weren’t looking he quickly flipped over the cover, gulping at the sight of the price.

“80 dollars?” But he shook it off, trudging after you.

“Anything else for you?” A boy around the same age as you was checking you out.

“Nope, that should be it.” You smiled, fumbling around with your purse to find your wallet.

“Economics huh? Are you a ManEcon major?” He asked, leaning towards you slightly, ignoring Jisung who had arrived nearby.

You looked up from your bag, “Huh? Oh, yeah ManEcon. You?”

Your hand was still deep in your back when he replied. “Same, I’m a Junior, I managed to switch in last year.”

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows, “Was it difficult?”

“No, I mean I knew I wanted to switch early on, so I already was taking the classes I needed.”

You nodded back, “That makes sense. Have you taken macro yet? I’m signed up this quarter but I’m a little nervous.”

“I had Zeggert last quarter, she was pretty good.” He smiled, nodding, “She likes it when people go into office hours, really tries to help.”

You cracked a smile of your own, “No way, I have Zeggert. Thank goodness, I’m definitely going to use her office hours a lot then.”

You took a moment to successfully dig out your wallet, sliding him your card.

“That’s good, well, I’m here basically all the time. So if you ever need help, you know where to find me.” He winked at you, returning the card.

You murmured out a quick thanks, and stepped aside to let Jisung pay for his books.

Jisung didn’t take long, and you noticed that he was particularly cold with the cashier, who in turn wasn’t nearly as friendly with him as he was with you.

“He was kind of flirting with you.” Jisung mumbled out, picking at the brand new spine of his unneeded textbook.

You glanced at him, stepping through the door that he once again held open, not knowing how to respond to him.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He asked under his breath as you caught up beside him.

“What?” You shot him a puzzled look.

Jisung raised his eyebrows, “Your boy...friend?” He slowed his words, questioning them himself.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You let out, not pausing in your steps. The same couldn’t be said for Jisung.

He jogged slightly to catch up. “But your date…?”

“My date?” You asked, now choosing to stop and face him. You shook your head, confused, “What date?”

“The- the guy you were with at the restaurant Wednesday.” He studied the sidewalk intently, flustered at his confession.

“You saw me?” You leaned down slightly, trying to catch his gaze.

“I-uh… I mean I didn’t mean to watch you. But we just happened to go to that restaurant.” He mumbled, choosing to walk forward and escape the situation, but you quickly caught up.

“He’s not my boyfriend, I mean, we were on a date, but he’s not my boyfriend.” You felt the need to defend yourself, or at least clear things up. Although you didn’t know why you felt the need.

“Oh. A date.” He mumbled. He was overjoyed at the fact that you weren’t dating anyone, but couldn’t help but be disappointed at the mention of a date. From what he remembered, you seemed to be enjoying yourself then.

The silence grew until you reached your doorstep. It had taken Jisung fifteen minutes to decide, fifteen minutes to pluck up the courage he needed.

“How about a date with me?” Although he refused to meet your eyes, you felt the genuinity.

Part 2

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

[ulalumewitch]

A Song of Shadows and Light

Short Story inspired by “Day 6: Book Predictions” by @gwynrielweek - my prediction is that Gwynriel is end game and they are mates. This takes place an undetermined amount of time into the future after ACOSF.

Author Note/Warning: Brief mentions of past abuse. If you find these ideas triggering, please skip. I hope I addressed them with the care and sensitivity they deserve.

word count: 3,279

theme: a bit of angst, feels

please note: light adult language used.

*******

Azriel’s shadow’s did not speak to him. It remained his biggest secret. They did not whisper in his ear. They did not shout, nor did they cry, nor did moan.

His shadows sang.

He always thought people would assume the truth given the name, but they never did. Others sometimes asked, ‘What do they say? What do they sound like? Do they speak to you often? Do they speak in riddles?’ But never did they ask, ‘Do they sing?’

The first time Azriel heard their song had been while staring at young hands wrapped in bandages as he sat in the cold, damp hell of darkness. The inky black he’d learned to survive in had been no life at all but the sort of torture no creature should endure. Especially not a child.

Azriel had always been intelligent. His mind worked in patterns and puzzles. When he’d been allowed to begin an education beyond the fundamentals of reading and writing - when Rhys’ utter saint of a mother took him under a literal wing - he seemed to understand everything taught to him the moment the instruction passed her, or any teacher’s, lips. Initially, Azriel thought it a gift.

Until he realized the curse of it. He never forgot anything he read or heard, and he never forgot a face. His memory remained woefully accurate. While it made him an excellent spy, Azriel used to pray to the Mother to take his memory away, to take his ability to remember the finest minute details away. Or at the very least the bad memories away…

There were seven cracks in the stone on the floor where he used to sleep, where the damp seemed a little less chilling. Twenty stones around his lightless cell. He learned them all by feeling, touching, counting. Games to keep his mind from wondering if perhaps he’d died. If, perhaps, the Mother forgot about him …

Azriel turned his face up at the sky and let the rain fall softly against his face. His wings twitched slightly at the first contact. Warm, summer rain. Refreshing. Revitalizing. The burgeoning storm ushered in cool air and finally broke the suffocatingly hot, humid weather that had plagued Velaris the last week.

He took a deep breath. And another.

The memory of the first song his shadows sang to him was not an unpleasant one. Perhaps one of the only memories from that place that didn’t belong to a nightmare. They did not sing of freedom or of hope. They sang of light. They saved him.

Every once in a while they would sing of that light. The light of stars against darkness, the light of dawn breaking after another battle won, the light of eyes sparkling in love. They wouldn’t sing of it often, but they usually sang when he needed it most.

Or whenever Gwyneth entered the room. They sang of light around her the most. Their song became loudest when she was near him and it always complimented her words, as if providing a symphony to accompany the voice that filled his dreams with rest. Real rest. Those few precious nights they fell asleep side by side doing research in the library had been the most peaceful and restful nights of his entire existence.

Azriel had been a fool. For all of his abilities to ferret out the secrets of others, to become those shadows to learn what words were whispered in the dark, he’d lost the ability to see past his own shortcomings.

He’d searched for the love he’d missed as a child his entire life. Azriel desperately wanted it for his own, to heal those old wounds and to finally become the creature he always thought he could be.

Instead, he’d lived in delusion after delusion. First, the Truth Telling Warrior Queen, and then the Lady of Flowers and Sun.

It wasn’t their fault, nor was it totally his. He didn’t realize how wrong he’d been until the creature the Mother and Cauldron had paired him with left.

Azriel couldn’t blame Gwyneth for leaving. It was the right move for her. The fact that she healed, that she worked so damned hard to be able to start a new life went beyond admirable. And she’d did it on her own. True, she had her Valkyrie sisters, himself and Cass as her mentors, and the Priestesses … and it was because of that support system that Gwyn was able to save herself from the dark and to follow her own dreams and her own path, whole and healed and independent.

And he would never stop her from being herself. Even if it ripped his heart to shreds to see her go. Even if he fought every day not to winnow to that sanctuary on the other side of the Night Court as she and the others began helping others heal from their own nightmares.

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen in love with her. Hell, he didn’t even know he’d been in love with her until she left without saying goodbye. Until he found that godsdamned note pinned to his door, rolled up with a teal ribbon around it.

Again, words he wished he could forget burned into his memory …

Do not let the water break you, Shadowsinger. Do not be scared of the warmth light can bring either. Let it illuminate you, every part of you, because you are a creature deserving of every happiness, Azriel, and only you can stop you from finding it. I pray, one day, you will be able to leave your fear behind you. ~G.B.

Azriel lost her because he was afraid. The thing he’d chased his entire life alluded him because he’d finally found it and was too damned cowardly to admit it to himself. To admit that the teal-eyed Priestess Valkyrie Carynthian was in fact the love of his godsdamned life.

And she’d left and he refused to be selfish and to do anything that might potentially ruin the happiness she fought for and won. If anyone deserved living in the light of happiness and peace, it was Gwyn.

Azriel closed his eyes, the rain beginning to fall a little harder. A low rumble of thunder in the distance that belonged to nature and not his High Lord, rolled through his bones. He welcomed it.

“I’m sorry I was a fool,” Azriel said out loud.

The rain fell harder, drowning out his words. But as he said them, a small weight lifted as his shadows swirled around him, keeping some of the drops off of his skin. Their touch soft and reassuring.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way.”

Lightning flashed. Another crack of thunder.

‘She sings for joy and hope, her voice like a snow white dove,’ his shadows lilted, singing in his ear.

Azriel smiled through his tears as they mixed in with rain. She was happy then, she was exactly where she needed to be.

“I love you, Gwyneth,” he shouted to the storm.

Lightning and thunder and rain and his shadows sang melodies to mix with the symphony of the storm as the entire weight of the godsdamned world seemed to be lifted from him entirely. The truth and freedom of it so cathartic he let out a laugh and sob and -

A phantom pull to his middle had the Illyrian warrior stumbling forward, his hands braced and caught himself on the red wall of the training circle atop the House of Wind.

Another tug near his sternum … right over his heart …

Azriel turned as his shadows’ melody, wordless and sweet, crescendoed. A rush of breath passed through his lips as he found wide teal eyes staring at him.

He couldn’t move. For the first time in his life, Azriel forgot everything. If anyone asked him his name he likely wouldn’t remember.

All that he knew was that the beautiful creature walking towards him was no mirage. She stopped in front of him. Her beautiful copper hair somehow still shining through the dark and in the rain as it plastered to her head.

Something sparked in his chest. And Azriel, for the first time in his life, knew true happiness.

********

Gwyneth’s heart pounded as she ran through the house. It closed doors as she approached rooms as if telling her to keep going, the Shadowsinger would not be there. She had dreamed of Azriel every night since she’d been gone.

His hazel eyes, his cheekbones, his lips - those lips that she’d stare at and would forget to actually listen to what he was saying. And she’d have to ask him to repeat whatever it was and he would always quirk a smile - always the left side of his mouth - and then do as she requested. Like he knew.

But when she admitted to feeling something more than friendship. When she finally worked up the courage to broach the topic, thinking that maybe he wouldn’t because he didn’t want to push her, he gave the worst response possible.

Silence. Nothing. Not a single sound had passed those lips she’d come to love.

So, she’d left. She would have stayed. Would have carried on her work in Velaris because it was just as fulfilling as the work she now did on the other side of the Night Court. But she wouldn’t torture herself being around the Shadowsinger any longer. She’d taken his silence as a sign from the Mother that it was time for her to fly away from the nest that allowed her to grow and heal, and to live on her own.

She still had Emerie and Nesta for support as they were winnowed in a couple of times a week to help with training. The priestesses and faeries she had started to work with and train she already knew would be friends or at the very least amiable students and colleagues. Her new endeavor was exciting and scary and thrilling and all the things that she always imagined life could be.

The new compound that she, Nesta, and Emerie had dreamed up had been funded by the High Lord and High Lady, having agreed that more sanctuaries like the library should be available to others. It turned out more beautiful than she could have imagined. The Home for Wayward Stars included a temple, training centers, stables, medical building, and library. All to offer services as well as to train faeries in whatever they’d like to learn.

The compound had been built along the sea, nestled in a previously untouched basin surrounded by mountains, not unlike Velaris itself. The High Lord of Day, along with Rhysand, warded it to ensure it remained a safe haven for those seeking shelter. It was also guarded by new members of the Valkyrie so that all who sought sanctuary could begin healing in peace.

The High Lord and High Lady had been beyond kind, and even built her a small apartment that had a balcony that overlooked the sea, the waves crashing right below her and faced east. Every morning the light greeted her along with the sounds of the sea and it was perfect.

Except it really wasn’t perfect because when she woke up from her dreams of Azriel she would be alone in bed. And it infuriated her.

And so, Gwyneth decided to do something about it. The silence of his response ate away at her. She wanted a real answer. She wanted to know if he felt the same or if he didn’t. Even if the answer meant heartbreak she needed it. For closure.

But as she ascended the stairs to the training circle atop the house, her heart began to pound in her chest, and she knew he was up there. When she reached the top step she heard his voice and closed her eyes. Hearing it in her dreams was far different than the real thing.

“I’m sorry I was a fool.”

Was he talking to someone she couldn’t see?

But as she went to step out onto the roof, shadows swarmed her. Cool yet comforting, they swirled around her and gently pushed her back. She furrowed her brow but stayed put.

Gwyn loved Azriel’s shadows. When they’d researched together they’d always provide light touches to any knots in her neck and shoulders as she read, or would offer a cool breeze atop the house when training at night. Azriel always seemed to fret they would scare her but she loved them. Just like she loved him. And she just didn’t understand why -

‘Priestess of Light and Sea and Song, wait, it will not be long.’

Gwyneth’s mouth opened as she stared at the swirling shadows around her. Did they … did they just sing to her to stay put?

But Azriel’s raised voice stopped her thoughts.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way.”

She began shaking. Oh gods, what if he’d found someone else? What if she’d read him all wrong. What if he really was just a supportive friend and she had been so desperate -

“I love you, Gwyneth!”

Gwyn clamped a hand over her mouth just in time to muffle the sound of a small cry born from pure relief and joy. Her hand flew to her chest as her heart pulsed in a quick beat. She furrowed her brow and looked down. No, it wasn’t her heart, but very near it. Something around her heart.

‘We sing for our Master and thee, Princess of Light and Song and Sea, we sing for the mates of darkness and light and sky and sea.’

She stepped out onto the roof, the shadows retreating slightly but remained close to her. Out of pure magical instinct Gwyneth reached deep down into that place near her heart. The place that sparked alive whenever Azriel was near her or whenever she wished he was near her. She grabbed a hold of that place and tugged.

Gwyneth watched in equal parts wonder and amusement as the renowned Carynthian warrior stumble forward in response. He whirled and she couldn’t stop herself as she did it again.

Hazel eyes locked on hers and she knew all of the trepidation she’d felt had been for nought. He loved her. He only needed to go on his own journey to find it. And Gwyneth understood that the dreams she’d had must have been Mother sent to bring her back because Azriel was finally ready to accept the destiny that had been written for them in the stars long ago.

Azriel raised a wing out over her head to shield her from the rain. His shadows continued to swirl around them both.

“I love you too, Azriel.”

“Gwyn,” he breathed out, “What - how -“

She smiled as he sputtered slightly. Gwyn reached forward and laced her fingers through his. Her thumbs lightly running over the ridges of some of the raised bits of scars. Ridges and lines that she’d memorized during their moments alone together.

“I dreamt of you,” she whispered, “And I had to come see you. The house led me here and then your Shadows sang for me to wait while you shouted into the rain. Do you always bother storms with your confessions?”

Azriel’s mouth dropped open. His hands began to shake slightly in hers.

“They sang to you?”

Gwyneth nodded and smiled, “Would you like to venture a guess why?”

She watched, fascinated, as his shadows swirled around his ears. His eyes shuttered slightly and then began to glisten in the dark.

“Is it too soon to talk about a mating ceremony?” Azriel finally asked.

Gwyneth laughed, as tears of pure relief and joy stung her eyes. She ripped her hands from his and threw her arms around his neck. And kissed him.

Azriel’s mouth slanted over hers immediately. The kiss soft but heated as one hand dove into her hair and the other held her waist tightly to him. With the first tentative touch of his tongue to hers, fire lit her veins. She tipped her head back slightly and opened further for him.

His cedar and mist scent wrapped around her as surely as his shadows did, keeping them hidden. Gwyn held on to him, suddenly worried that maybe she dreamt again. That maybe this was nothing but dreaming.

But in that very moment of doubt Azriel pulled away from her. He ran his nose long hers and brushed his lips over hers in a way that made her consider how his lips would feel on her skin.

“This isn’t a dream,” he whispered, “And I love you and I’m sorry.”

She smiled and brought a hand up to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as she ran a thumb along his cheek bone.

“I love you, Azriel. But for your penance I must demand a couple of things for our future mating ceremony.”

His eyes opened and his lips quirked up. The left side of his mouth. Always the left side of the mouth. Her heart leapt in her chest as warmth spread through her.

“And what’s that Berdara?”

She pressed the front of her body to his, allowing her curves to mold to the hardness of him, to the cut of muscles honed over centuries of being a warrior. Her own warrior called to him, ready to take on anyone who would dare to hurt him. The instinct to protect, she mused, and they hadn’t even officially done anything. Not yet anyway. Hopefully not much longer.

“That we have our ceremony by the sea, our feet touching water and land. That we have our ceremony at dusk as day and night hedge on each other. So that sky and sea and dark and light surround us. So for that sacred moment it will seem like we teeter on the edge of the universe and its us. Just us. And that you will do your duties and live your life and I will do the same and we will carve out a life just for us by forging those parts of us together to make a whole. So that we’re both stronger.”

Azriel leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. He brushed his lips over hers again before placing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. His lips lingered and then slowly pressed kisses to her cheek and jaw line and then … then he kissed the sensitive spot below her ear, warm and pleasant and her knees buckled.

His lips curved into a smile against her skin and she wanted to scream at him to stop - to not stop - to do it again but more.

Azriel moved his mouth to press a kiss to the pulse at her throat, and her toes curled in her boots. All of her breathing techniques forgotten as she struggled to remember how to draw breath into her lungs.

With his blessed lips still against her skin, nuzzling her, he replied, “As you wish, Princess of Light and Song and Sea. It’s a good thing I’ll be able to winnow to you every night. Tell me Rhys and Feyre made your apartment big enough for someone with wings.”

“Our apartment. And yes. Now, kiss me again, Shadowsinger,” she smiled, “And this time. Don’t stop.”

Azriel flashed a grin and before Gwyn could form another thought his lips met hers. And she fell. No matter where she landed, and no matter where her journey led her from here, she knew that she would be living that journey with the Shadowsinger, her mate, beside her.

So they fell together as his shadows sang to them a song of darkness and light, sky and sea, hope and love.

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

hope you enjoyed! i love all possible ships and these two give me the feels.

[ashtheshortstack]

Truth be Told

Rating: G Fandom: Danny Phantom

Sequel to dwelling on deceit

Tags: Valerie POV, Post-PP

Read on ao3

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Danny Phantom saving the world with his genius plan was something Valerie had to give him kudos for. Especially after he confirmed her suspicions and transformed back into Danny Fenton right before her eyes. She was a bit stunned to see it happen to say the least, but she knew. And was glad she was right.

The Danny she knew was just a dorky, awkward kid that she had ended up crushing on. It was… sudden. And she didn’t quite know how it happened. Little did she know she’d been fraternizing with the enemy. Danny did though. He knew she was hunting him. And yet… still pursued her. Still wanted to feel like a normal kid and date the girl he liked. She couldn’t imagine how hard it’d been for him. How hard she’d made it on him to constantly fight her knowing full and well he didn’t want to.

Dating Danny had been an uphill battle. As much as she liked him, she knew in her heart that he liked someone else more. Valerie wasn’t stupid. She could see the way he looked at Sam. It was selfish of her to confront the goth girl on the issue, but she wanted to hope that Sam would back off. She remembered when she overheard Sam saying that they’d give her a chance for Danny’s sake, but they knew. They knew this wouldn’t work out.

Jeez, Valerie owed Sam an apology. But… that would come later.

When she suited up, she hadn’t expected to find Danny so quickly. And surprisingly… alone? He and Sam had been attached at the hip since the Disasteroid. Valerie had noticed a small class ring on Sam’s finger every day at school when the two walked down the hallway with their fingers intertwined. Which was super lame and definitely not Sam’s color, but was fitting for Danny. She hated to admit that they were cute. As much as it made her want to gag.

He sat upon the town billboard. The one with the dumb “Amity Park: A Nice Place to Live!” slogan. Yeah, Amity Park was a great place to live if you enjoyed the constant ghost attacks. She was sure their town was going to become a tourist attraction not too long after the famous Danny Phantom saved the world.

“Do ghosts normally haunt billboards at night, Phantom?” she teased as she retracted her hoverboard beneath her feet.

“Night is the best time to haunt, Red, makes things spookier,” he replied, not turning to face her yet. His ever charming sarcasm oozed from his voice, but she could place a bit of hesitance in his tone as well.

Poor guy. Danny probably thought the worst of her. She hadn’t spoken to him since they had returned to school. He had spared her a few glances and nervous smiles between classes, but she hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t dared to pop open that can of worms. And yet, there she was… somehow finally finding her courage to speak to him. The boy she had hunted… the boy she had dated.

Her face softened as she smiled. “Hey, Danny.”

He looked at her then, those green eyes piercing and glowing. “Hey, Val,” he smiled. A genuine Danny smile that she had come to appreciate so much.

Valerie took a seat next to him, not sure where to even begin. But Danny took the lead, of course.

“So, how long is this truce thing going to last? I kind of miss you chasing me around with blasters,” he joked with a half hearted shrug.

Valerie chuckled, leaning back on her palms. “I didn’t know you enjoyed fighting so much..”

“Oh, yeah. Screaming in pain, getting caught in nets, even Skulker constantly telling me he wants my pelt on his wall: love it.”

“That’s a little TMI, Danny. I didn’t need to know that you were a masochist.”

Danny gaped at her. “That is not what I--”

Valerie cut him off with a burst of laughter. He pursed his lips, giving her a glare for teasing him but seemed to relax and join in the fit of giggles with her.

When the chuckles died down, Danny finally leaned back on his palms as she was. “You knew, didn’t you?”

She didn’t have to ask him to elaborate. Valerie already knew what he was asking. She looked up, gazing at the stars with a hesitant smile etching at the corner of her lips. “I had a suspicion. That was my fault, though, I shouldn’t have been so nosy and pried.”

Sighing, he shook his head. “No, if anything I was glad you knew. It’s hard explaining why I didn’t like Vlad Masters without a reason. Especially as a ghost.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t like him either.”

Danny snorted at that. “Pretty sure no one likes him anymore, Val. He tried to conquer the world by force and promised safety he couldn’t follow through on. Even my dad hates his old pal Vladdy.”

“Well, I didn’t like him anymore before that. And I tried so hard to play nice so he’d give me information. I think he tried to hint at your identity a few times too.”

Humming, he nodded. “Sounds right. Vlad always had a weird obsession with me.”

“What a freak.”

“A crazed up fruitloop.”

Valerie snorted at that. “I just--I want you to know that I’m happy for you. You’ve never seemed happier and I’m glad. You deserve it, Danny.”

He looked at her, those green eyes seeming to pierce her soul. He really was too kind. Too good, ablet a bit devious at times she knew. He always wanted what was best for everyone. Willingly sacrificed himself for the greater good so many times. And somehow, he was still the dorky unpopular kid at her school. The one she was mean to for so long because she thought that’s what she was supposed to do. Dating Danny had really opened her eyes to the person he could be. It didn’t surprise her one bit that he was Danny Phantom: the ghost hero of Amity Park.

“Thank you.”

The response was so genuine… it made her heart ache. There was a look on his face, however… something that told her there was more he wanted to say. Something in his eyes that didn’t sit well in the pit of her stomach.

“What is it?” she asked.

Danny swallowed, seeming tense. “I have to ask… how do you not hate me? I lied to you--a lot. You were dating me. You were dating Danny Phantom, the literal ghost you wanted to blast to bits and had no idea. Why didn’t you come here screaming at me?”

Sighing, she felt her shoulders sag. “After that stuff with Vlad… and after I figured you out, I had a lot of time to think about it. I was a little angry at first, I guess. But then I thought about how it must’ve been for you. You just wanted to be normal for once. It’d be lame of me to blame you for that. You knew I was literally trying to destroy your other half and yet you still wanted to be with me. I can’t hate you for that.”

He considered her, seeming to soak in her words. When he nodded with a smile, Valerie felt some relief. It wasn’t even a worry she realized she had. She hadn’t thought about Danny fearing how she’d react to him being Phantom. She was glad she could clear that up for him, at least.

Clearing her throat, Valerie quickly realized that sincere conversation was no longer for her. “Sooo, is Tucker seeing anyone?”

He blinked. “Aside from his PDA? No, not that I know of,” Danny paused and grinned. “Why? You interested?”

“I dunno. Dating Amity Park’s youngest mayor in history sounds enticing..”

“What? And dating Amity Park’s ghost superhero isn’t?”

She cocked a brow. “Yeah, but I heard he’s taken.”

“Again, that’s not what I meant.”

“Duh, I know what you meant.” Valerie paused, letting silence wash over her a minute before she sighed and glanced away from him. “We were never going to work, you know that, right?”

He cocked his head in a curious gesture. “What?”

“Danny, you’ve always loved her. Even when you didn’t know it. It was so obvious to everyone else. I just--I just thought I’d take my chances.”

Danny’s cheeks tinged pink (with a little bit of green mixed in, oddly enough.) “Valerie, I liked you. A lot. My feelings for you were real too.”

“‘Liked’ being the operative word. Danny, it’s okay. You don’t have to validate your feelings to me. I know you liked me. I just know you have had stronger feelings for Sam.”

He opened his mouth as if he were going to argue, but snapped his jaw shut quickly. Pursing his lips, he glanced away. “I do. I love her.”

“Have you told her?”

“No…?”

Valerie smacked him on the arm.

“Hey!”

“Why are you telling me, Fenton!? You should be telling Sam that!”

“I will!”

“When?”

“When it feels right!”

Valerie groaned, flopping her head back. “Ughh, you’re such a hopeless romantic. It’s almost gross.”

“Hey! You liked it when I tried to woo you!”

“Maybe so.”

He gave her a knowing look before turning away. “I don’t know how to tell her. I’ll get there, okay?”

Raising her hands in surrender, Valerie caved. “Okay, fine. But do it quick, someone may snatch her up.”

“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend, Valerie?”

“Hey, maybe I just want to homie hop. I’ll date Tucker next then steal Sam from right under your nose.”

Snorting, Danny shoved her gently. “As if. Pretty sure she loves me.”

“Uh huh. Maybe she’d say it if you say it first.”

There was a beat of silence, and Valerie worried she had pushed the conversation too far. But Danny surprised her instead.

He smiled at her.

“Can we be like this all the time,” he asked.

“Me threatening to steal your girlfriend?”

He barked a laugh. “No! Just--Just being friends.”

Valerie smiled in return, holding out a hand to him. “Permanent friends truce, then?”

Nodding, he took her hand. “Permanent friends truce.”

When she let go, Valerie turned to look over the streets. As stressful as it could be to live in Amity Park, there’s nowhere else she’d want to go. This was home. These were her people. And she loved her life. It took her a long time to see it. But Amity Park meant so much to her. It was terrifying to know her life was a risk. Her home was at risk. But Danny saved them. Saved her. Just like he always did.

“You want to be a member of Team Phantom?”

“Oh, God,” she made a gagging sound. “You guys have a team name?”

“Hey! We’re cool enough to have a team name.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, Fenton.”

[iamfruitie]

Something a little fun for your split emotions au sorry for any mistakes, writings not my strong suit

Anti walked through the halls of the ipliers manor mildly irritated and exhausted. Recently a magical mix up was making its way through the egos and today it was darks turn to be on the receiving end. It had all started when mad tried a new type of experiment, mixing a little bit of borrowed magic with his own empathic powers, he said he wanted to help mare get more in tough with his emotions, to help him sort out some feelings better for the sake of his music. One explosive shockwave later and mare was feeling much more than just confusion for his next song, mads magical mess up split mare into 7 personified emotions : happiness, sadness, fear, anger, pride, love and lust (those last two seeming like twins in a way) each looking exactly like original mare except for different colored eyes. once mad has realized what happened he panicked and called for the egos help. After calming down corralling all the mares in one room Marvin used one of his reversal spell to end mares split personality problem. That had supposedly been the end of it until a day and a half later when Jackie found a blue eyed phantom sobbing on the kitchen floor, it was then they found out that the shockwave from mads experiment had seemingly effected them all, one ego after another became separated into 7 emotions, and each time they would find all the emotions and bring them to Marvin to be merged back together (all except when it happed to Marvin and in that case Wilford did it ) after watching “dark” nearly punch bing for a random joke every one split up to look for darks missing emotions. So far almost all had been found except for dark stubbornness and the twin emotions of love and lust. Wilford had volunteered to find stubborn dark(having had the most experience when it came to that side of dark) while anti went to check for the other two. He had a pretty good idea where to look so that’s why when he opened the door to his and darks shared bedroom he wasn’t surprised in the slightest to find the two romantic emotions waiting for him. Love had been seated at the chair behind darks desk seemingly writing what could only be described as a Shakespearian style love ballad with plenty of hearts between the lines of text, while lust true to his emotion was on the bed, completely nude purple eyes casting a hungry look in antis direction. ( thank god he’d found them before any of the others ). Straight his back hands on his hips in his most authoritative voice anti addressed them both “alright party’s over you two are going to come with me and get turned back into the man I love” Lust was quick to speak up “are you saying you don’t love us too? We don’t need to have those other to show you how much you mean to us” love having left the desk walked up to anti and caught him in a deep kiss “he’s right” love broke the kiss to address the blushing glitch “those other emotions hold us back, let us show you how much we love you” “how much we need you” lust added as love led the flustered glitch towards the bed “ just this once let us have you all to our selves” ❤️‍🔥

Yaaaassss!!!!!

Anti's in for a time and I love it!!!

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 6

This is a series. Start here. Continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Content warning: caretaker bathing whumpee, non-sexual nudity, unsure of reality, fear of drowning, trauma reveal, past water torture, self-loathing, painful wound cleaning, frank conversation about noncon, past drug whump, past noncon/dubcon, self-blame, PTSD, implied self-harm

~

Gavin trembled as Isaac dipped the washcloth into the water again, squeezed it out over his skin. He listened to the tinkling sound as it washed back into the bath. The heat seemed to penetrate down to Gavin’s bones, melting him to Isaac’s touch, soothing him. 

Weakening him.

Maybe that was it. Maybe Schiester was letting Gavin feel heat, feel comfort, so he could break him with it later. He pressed his lips into a line and tried to ignore the sting of tears in his eyes. Please, he begged silently. Please, please, please, let this be real. Let Isaac be real. The wash of hot water down the back of his neck pushed the thought away. His eyes slid closed, and he sighed.

“Um…” Isaac croaked. Gavin opened his eyes and found Isaac’s gaze shifted towards the floor. “I… If you want to lean back, I can… get your hair wet, wash your hair…” He ran a damp hand through his own hair. “Or… or you can do it. I don’t have to do it if you don’t, um, want me to.”

“N-no, I…” Gavin shivered as the water dried on his skin. “I… It feels… nice.” He swallowed hard, kept his gaze on Isaac’s face. 

Isaac blinked and met Gavin’s eyes. “Okay,” he rasped. “Here, I can… I can help you.” He laid the washcloth on the edge of the tub and put a gentle hand on Gavin’s shoulder.

Gavin tensed. His hand locked on the edge of the bathtub, holding himself up against Isaac’s gentle pressure back. His chest ached as he tried to prepare himself to be pushed under the surface and held there, screaming through the water as Isaac’s – Schiester’s – strong hands forced him against the bottom of the tub, waiting until his struggles got weaker, weaker, only to drag him up, let him breathe, and then do it again—

Isaac yanked his hand back from Gavin’s shoulder like he’d been burned. Gavin’s eyes went wide as Isaac leaned back, away from the tub, his long sleeves already darkened in places from the water. Gavin opened his mouth to speak.

Isaac’s voice was a strangled moan. “H-he drowned you?” he whimpered. 

Gavin’s eyes flicked to the washcloth lying on the edge of the tub. He realized with a jolt that maybe he wouldn’t be forced under at all – maybe Schiester would drag the washcloth over his face and force his head under the stream of the bath, laughing at Gavin’s struggles until the water drowned out every other sound—

Gavin stared in horror as Isaac lurched forward with a sob.

“I-Isaac,” Gavin said numbly. “I… h-he didn’t—”

“He waterboarded you,” Isaac moaned, pressing his face into his hands. His shoulders shook with another sob. “He… that motherfucker waterboarded you, didn’t he?” He raised his gaze, and his eyes swam with tears. 

No, Gavin wanted to say. No. You had it so much worse. Please don’t cry.

He only did it to me three times. How many times – how many hours – have I done it to you? He wet his lips to speak.

“Please don’t lie to me,” Isaac whispered. “Please… Gavin, I… Y-you can tell me. I don’t…” He scrubbed his face with his sleeve and set his jaw. “I don’t want you… not telling me because you don’t want to, um, hurt me.”

Gavin’s tongue felt frozen in his mouth, the words trapped in his throat. 

If I lie, and this really is a hallucination, Schiester will punish me for the lie.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to blow out a hitched breath. “Yes,” he said, hollow.

Isaac’s face twisted in shame, in anguish. Gavin watched as he pressed his lips together to keep them from trembling. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, then slowly nodded his head. “Okay,” he whispered. 

“I’m sorry,” Gavin whimpered, reaching out for Isaac’s arm. He just wanted to… had to touch Isaac, had to know he was real. 

Isaac flinched at the touch, and his head drooped forward. He drew in a slow breath and let it out. “D-don’t be sorry,” he murmured. “Why are you sorry?”

Tears blurred Gavin’s vision and ran down his cheeks. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “I… I didn’t want to hurt you, I…” A sob caught in his throat. “I never, never wanted to hurt you…”

Isaac reached out, fumbling for Gavin’s hand, his head still bent to hide his face. “I know,” he breathed. “I kn-know you didn’t.” Gavin slid his hand into Isaac’s and held it tight. His fingers trembled from how hard he was gripping. Every little noise was so immediate, reflecting off the tile walls and the surface of the water until the sound of every breath, every tiny ripple of the bath, seemed to press into his ears.

After a long, silent minute, Isaac raised his head. His face was drawn, pale, except for the patches of red around his eyes. He scrubbed his face with his now-damp sleeve and drew in a steadying breath. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Gavin bit down hard on his tongue and said nothing. This was worse, this was so much worse than drowning. If it was punishment, he would take it. If it wasn’t… oh, fuck, if this wasn’t punishment at all but Isaac’s real pain, real suffering…

Suddenly, Gavin prayed this was a hallucination. He couldn’t bear to think of Isaac truly suffering like this.

He didn’t know what to say. He only clasped Isaac’s hand until Isaac cleared his throat and glanced at the shampoo. 

“Can I help you get your hair wet?” he murmured, his fingers loosening around Gavin’s. 

Gavin bit his lip. “Um, y-yeah,” he croaked, unable to stop the shiver that rippled over him. Isaac met his gaze as he gently touched his shoulder. “I… I trust you.”

The pain that shot through Isaac’s features twinged at Gavin’s heart. Isaac gently held the back of Gavin’s neck, his other hand supporting his shoulder, as he tipped him back into the bath. Hot water crept up Gavin’s neck, soaking his hair, until he lay almost completely flat in Isaac’s hands, staring upwards at the white painted ceiling, the corners slightly yellow from years of age. Water swirled around his head and pooled in his ears. His lungs ached from holding his breath. 

Slowly, Isaac helped him sit up again. Gavin let out a gusty breath and dragged in another. He was grateful – so, so goddamned grateful, what kind of hallucination is this? – to be breathing, to be safe in Isaac’s hands, to be held. Water streamed in rivulets down his neck and shoulders. Isaac reached for the shampoo and squeezed a small amount into his hand.

The scent of the shampoo filled the small tile bathroom and knocked the breath out of Gavin. It was so familiar – the shampoo the family had been using since they reached Gray’s house, herbal and earthy and sweet, smelling of happiness, sunshine, home. Tears welled in Gavin’s eyes and he let them fall, rolling down his cheeks and into the bath, cleansing and soft like rain. Isaac rubbed his hands together to make a lather and brought his hands to settle in Gavin’s hair. Gavin let out a sigh as Isaac worked the shampoo in, massaging his scalp, stroking his fingers through the wet, soapy strands. 

Gavin found himself slumping forward, leaning against the cool porcelain edge of the tub, drawn to Isaac as if by a magnet. His eyes slid closed, and his muscles relaxed. The smell of the shampoo soothed the flutter of his heart. Isaac ran his fingers behind Gavin’s ears, down the back of his neck, pressing into the soreness of his jaw, the muscles tight from clenching his teeth. He trembled and floated in the touch.

“Ready to wash this out?” Isaac murmured, and Gavin jumped. He’d nearly fallen asleep. He nodded and let Isaac maneuver him until he could dip his head back into the water. Isaac ran his fingers through Gavin’s hair again, rinsing out the shampoo, bringing goosebumps to his skin. When his hair was washed clean, Isaac helped him sit up. His sleeves around his wrists were soaked. He reached for the washcloth and lathered it with soap. 

“S-sorry I got your sleeves wet,” Gavin rasped, his skin tingling with anticipation of Isaac’s touch. 

Isaac’s mouth tightened for a fraction of a second, and his eyes slid out of focus. “It’s fine,” he said tightly. “I’ll…” He held out the washcloth. “If you… want to, you can…”

“I…” Gavin’s throat constricted around the words. “I… l-like to have you… touching me.” His cheeks burned with something like shame. If Schiester was watching this somehow… 

But Gavin couldn’t feel cold eyes on him, couldn’t see the dark specter that watched his worst fears as they played out in front of him. He couldn’t see the phantom that would solidify and become a man when Schiester was ready to punish Gavin’s body, not his mind. 

There was a truth growing inside him, pushing at the back of his mind, pulsing with each beat of his heart. He couldn’t stand to let it take hold of him and drag him into a new reality.

If this is a hallucination, none of it makes sense.

Gavin’s skin burned under Isaac’s gaze. Isaac wet his lips and nodded slowly before he reached out and, soft as a kiss, brought the soapy washcloth to Gavin’s neck. 

The soap stung on the broken skin, worn and chafed from the collar. Gavin’s throat clicked as he swallowed and forced himself to hold still. Isaac’s rough hands were agonizingly gentle as he cleaned him, dipping the washcloth into the water and scrubbing it with soap until it was sudsy again. Isaac washed his neck, his chest, soaping the washcloth again and again. He placed his hand on Gavin’s shoulder to steady him as he washed his back and arms, then reached into the water to wash his legs.

Gavin shivered at the touch, and at Isaac’s unspoken fear as he carefully washed everywhere except between Gavin’s legs. Isaac moved slowly, as if his touch would break Gavin – or as if his touch carried a darkness he was afraid to even name.

Gavin’s throat tightened as he reached out and caught Isaac’s wrist. Isaac looked back at him, almost seeming startled. 

“He didn’t rape me,” Gavin rasped. 

Isaac’s face spasmed in a rictus of pain. He drew in a shaking breath, then another, his hand curling into a fist around the washcloth, wringing it out over the tub. His hand trembled in Gavin’s grip. His mouth pulled into an agonized snarl, and he looked to Gavin like he was burning alive. 

“Are…” Isaac’s throat worked as he tried to swallow, over and over. His face was pale and he seemed frozen in Gavin’s grasp. He brought his tortured gaze to Gavin’s, his lips trembling, his chest heaving. “Are you sure?”

Gavin recoiled. “Am I…? Isaac, I know I—”

“But you—” Isaac cut himself off with a choke. “You… h-haven’t been able to, to tell what’s real or not.”

Gavin leaned in closer, desperate to make the pain in Isaac’s eyes go away. His hand loosened on Isaac’s wrist. He took the washcloth out of Isaac’s hand and laid it on the edge of the tub, then took Isaac’s hand in both of his. 

“Isaac,” he said softly. Isaac shuddered and looked away. “Isaac,” he urged, reaching out with one hand to cup Isaac’s jaw. Isaac blinked and raised his gaze to Gavin’s. Gavin licked his lips and held Isaac’s gaze. “Trust me. I… I know. He, um, n-never had me drugged for more than a few hours, and even if it happened during one of those times, I…” His voice faltered. “I would know.” He desperately hoped Schiester wasn’t listening. 

Isaac’s lips trembled. “B-but I—”

“Isaac,” Gavin said weakly. “You… you know that… if it happened, I would have… felt it… for a while after.”

Isaac winced and squeezed his eyes shut. He nodded slowly, shaking, and gripped Gavin’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a long moment. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Gavin’s stomach dropped. He lurched forward and threw his arms around Isaac, clutching him to his chest, pulling him hard against the side of the bath. Isaac heaved a shuddering sob and squeezed Gavin tightly. 

“Please, don’t,” Gavin whispered against his shoulder, with tears pouring down his face. “Please don’t… s-say that, Isaac. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”

Whether you’re real or not, it wasn’t your fault.

“I didn’t come for you,” Isaac sobbed. “I th-thought I… I knew you were with him, and I… I didn’t… I didn’t come.”

Dread curled in Gavin’s stomach. Despair dug hooks into his skin. He tried to stop the words before they left his lips, but they clawed up his throat anyway. “Th-then why… wh-why didn’t you?”

Isaac heaved a howling sob and clutched Gavin tighter. “Because I’m a coward,” he moaned. “B-because I… I w-wasn’t sure and I… if I was wrong, I didn’t want to… to lose you…”

Gavin was dizzy as he fought for breath. “I don’t—”

“He would have killed you, Gavin,” Isaac sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Gavin, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Gavin, please…”

“St-stop,” Gavin gasped, panic tightening around his throat. He pawed at his neck, fingers searching for the collar. “Isaac, no, no no no, this is real, it’s real, I thought it was real…”

Isaac broke away from Gavin’s embrace and roughly took his face in his hands. “It is,” he said, desperate, his eyes wide, tears still spilling down his cheeks. “It is, Gavin. I… I’m sorry…”

“You didn’t leave me,” Gavin whimpered. “You didn’t… abandon me, please, please, promise me I’m not still there—”

“You’re not,” Isaac rasped. His voice broke. “I’m s-sorry. Gavin, breathe, I’m s-sorry…” His thumbs stroked Gavin’s cheekbones, then his hands dropped. Isaac kept his gaze fixed on him.

Gavin shivered and wrapped his arm around his chest. His skin was slick with soap. The water in the tub was just warm, now, not the intoxicating press of heat he’d first climbed into. His hand gripping the side of the tub was wrinkled, pale, still dripping wet. He curled it into a fist. The torn skin around his wrists only stung faintly now. 

Isaac passed a hand over his face. His shoulders stooped, and the lines carved around his eyes and mouth made him look like he’d aged ten years since Gavin saw him last.

When I hallucinated Sam, I saw them the way I’d seen them when I first took them.

Gavin chewed his lip as he glanced down at the bathwater. It was a pale gray now, and cloudy, nothing like the clear, hot water it had been half an hour ago. He looked at Isaac, who was looking at the sleeves of his shirt. 

“If I’m going to give you a shirt I’ve been wearing,” he muttered, “Then I should probably change out of this one so you don’t get something that’s wet.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Gavin said wearily. “It’s okay, Isaac, really.”

“You had my shirt when you were first taken,” Isaac said. His gaze seared on Gavin’s skin. “Did it help?”

Gavin blinked back the sudden burn of tears. His hands itched to clutch at Isaac, to pull him close, to never let go as long as he lived so he wouldn’t be dragged screaming into the cold darkness of the cell again. He breathed in slowly and fought to keep his voice even. “Um,” he croaked. Tears ran down his cheeks and into the tub. “It was, um… the only thing I… I had. To hold onto.”

Isaac flinched, and nodded. “Then I’ll be right back,” murmured. He got to his feet and stalked out of the bathroom without another word. 

Gavin slumped against the side of the tub, feeling the crush of exhaustion creeping into his bones. He’d barely slept since he’d been rescued. He felt as if he could slide into unconsciousness right here, covered in soap, sitting in a cooling bath.

His head shot up as Isaac walked back into the room, pulling down another long-sleeved shirt around his chest, showing a flash of his abdomen. The sunlight from the window lit his face, bringing his sandy hair to a burning gold. He knelt beside the tub and picked up the washcloth. Shadows descended on his face again.

“I, um… I r-remember how hard it was for me to… h-have wet cloths, um, near my face… after,” Isaac murmured, and held out the washcloth to Gavin. “So maybe you could… wash your face? Then we could change the bathwater and rinse you, then get you back into bed?”

Gavin’s stomach twisted with hunger that gripped him all at once. “And then, um, dinner?” he rasped. 

A smile twitched at Isaac’s lips. Gavin wanted to hold him and beg him to smile again. “Yeah,” he murmured. “We can do dinner, as a team. I wasn’t sure if you’d be, um, up for it, after everything…”

“I want to see them.” Gavin could hear the plea in his own voice. His heart ached. “Please, I… I want to see them all.” He took the washcloth from Isaac’s hand and raised it to scrub his face. His stomach lurched as the wet cloth brushed his nose and lips. He gasped and yanked it away from his face. He looked up in time to see Isaac’s eyes tighten with pain. 

“Then they should be over in about three hours,” Isaac murmured. “Enough time to take a nap. If you want.”

Gavin sagged with exhaustion. “Y-yeah,” he whispered. “Sleep. Sleep sounds, um, good.” He reached forward and pulled the plug in the bath. His skin prickled in the humid bathroom air as the water slid down the drain – taking all the dust and sweat from Gavin’s body with it. Schiester’s ‘baths’ haven’t been doing much to keep me clean.

Once the bath was empty, Isaac replaced the plug and turned on the faucet again. He didn’t roll his sleeves up as he helped Gavin wash off the rest of the soap.

Continued here

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