#at least if tumblr kills this one i have a backup

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 31: Warmth

You cope with the aftermath of patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-30 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Fall out from canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8k

A/N: Hi y'all. This does have a continuation of the spoilers from TLOU2. Again, I'm so sorry for not warning about these further in advance. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM (or you can always yell in the comments or in my asks. I don't delete things if they're not the kindest so I'll leave whatever you want to send my way up, I totally get it.) Thanks for being here ❤️

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It shouldn’t be this hard to stay conscious when the world is ending. 

You’d had the thought before, in the early days of the outbreak. When you were trying to find someplace safe and had no idea where to start, when you were just riding and riding and hoping you’d be alive to see the next morning. 

But now was different. It wasn’t your life, it was Joel’s. His was so much more important than your own and the fear of losing him was keeping you awake. You’d nod off for a second - you thought, anyway - only to jerk back awake when your grip on his wrist slipped and his pulse wasn’t a constant - if weak - drumbeat below your fingers. 

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been on the floor with him. Things were fuzzy. You’d lost a lot of blood, you were familiar with that sensation now, you could identify it even as your mind was foggy. You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened. You remembered Joel screaming - you didn’t think you’d ever forget that horrific sound - and running to find him. You remembered watching as that girl swung the golf club down on his body. It wasn’t until you were already in the room, fighting for control of your gun with someone who looked like he was about Ellie’s age that you realized this was probably a mistake. You’d charged in without a plan to get backup, you were hugely outnumbered, no one knew where the fuck you were. You should have at least gone back for your horse, you were pretty sure she could have fit down here and you could have used sheer size and weight to clear the room. 

But they were killing him. That’s all that could force that sound from someone, life and death, and you couldn’t risk it. If there was a chance, even a tiny one, that you could save him, you were going to take it. Even if it killed you, you were going to take it. 

The threat was gone now - or you hoped it was, at least. Gatling was still on guard. You could feel how tense she was behind you, her body engaged and ready to strike. If they came back armed to the teeth before help arrived, though, you’d be finished. 

Joel’s wrist, the one you’d been holding, relaxed some and you forced yourself to sit up. 

“Joel?” You managed, adjusting your hold on him. His whole arm was limp now. Your heart beat faster. You released his wrist and pressed your fingers into his neck, where you liked to kiss him and feel the vital thrum of his pulse through his skin. It was faint but it was there. You adjusted yourself, propping yourself up on your elbow as your cut side screamed in pain, and you ran your fingers through his hair. You took comfort in the fact that you still could do that. While the rest of his body had been brutalized, Joel’s head was intact outside of where it looked like someone had landed a punch on his cheek near his eye, a bruise blossoming on his skin but no blood shed. It was like the girl had been saving his head for last, like she was trying to draw it out, make sure he was alive and awake while she hurt him. It turned your stomach. 

“You’re OK Joel,” you held face gently in your hand. “Gonna get you out of here, get you back to Ellie. You’re OK.” 

You stayed propped up like that for a while, just talking to him and running your fingers gently through his hair and feeling his breath on your skin until you were too weak to hold yourself up anymore. You collapsed alongside him then, trying to shield his body with yours as much as you could in case the people came back. 

Just a little sleep. That’s all. That’s what you needed, just enough rest to be able to think straight. Then you could figure out how to get Tommy and Joel back to Jackson. 

“Gatling,” you managed before you passed out. “Guard.” 

You woke up to snarling. 

Your head was swimming and you could feel the strength of the dog at your side, her body pressed back against you as she growled and barked. You tried to get your bearings as quickly as you could, fumbling for the rifles you’d brought to Joel’s side. 

“Bambi!” You recognized Ellie’s voice. “Bambi, call off Gatling, she won’t listen to me, we can’t get close enough…” 

“Gatling,” you gritted your teeth, your cut side burning and pulling as you tried to sit up. “Down.” 

You felt her relax and she gave a little whine before curling up against you and giving you a lick. You managed to prop yourself up on your uninjured side, eyes fighting to focus as Ellie, Jesse, Julie and Gene came in. Ellie ran for Joel, Gatling giving a little whine as she tracked her with her eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Gene said as he got a good look at Joel. 

“He’s alive,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “I thought…” 

“I know,” you adjusted so you could see him, check on his bandages. Your side protested, damaged skin pulling painfully. “But we have to get him to the doctor, we have to move him now…” 

“I don’t know that we can,” Gene knelt next to Ellie, looking Joel up and down. 

You frowned. 

“The fuck do you mean you don’t know.” 

“I mean,” he said gently. “We need to move quick, already been here too long, and we only have so many hands. I don’t know that he can make it back to Jackson and we should focus on…” 

“Fuck you,” your teeth were clenched, sweat starting at your temples from the strain of sitting upright. “We are not just gonna leave him out here…” 

“If we can save you and Tommy?” Gene said. “Then that’s what we should do. That’s what he’d want.” 

“Fuck you!” Ellie looked murderous. “Bambi’s right…” 

“C’mon,” Julie’s hands gently enveloped your shoulders. “Let’s try to get you up…” 

“I’m not going!” You wrenched yourself out of her grip and cried out in pain, a gush of blood coming from the wound at your side. “I’m not going without him, I’m not leaving him here!” 

Julie’s hands were on you again but you pulled yourself free, forcing yourself to your knees. 

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” Gene warned, moving for you, too, but you ignored him. 

“Gatling!” You managed through clenched teeth. Her head sprang up. “Guard!” 

She jumped to her feet and jumped between you and Gene. 

“Bambi,” he said cautiously, hands up, as your dog snapped her jaws and snarled at him. 

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” you were panting for breath. “You can’t make me, not with her like this. She’ll kill you and I’ll fuckin’ let her. Take him. Now.” 

Gene looked back at Jesse, who was helping Tommy sit up. He just shrugged. Gene looked back to you. 

“Fine,” he said. “But you gotta give us some space to work, can’t move him with her like this…” 

You struggled to your feet, using Julie’s shoulder as leverage, and you limped to the wall, all but collapsing against it. Gatling stayed on you, staring Gene down, seeming to trust Julie as you leaned against her. 

“She’s guardin’ me,” you said. “Won’t bother you over there. Move him. Do it.” 

You watched as Gene, Jesse and Ellie got Joel off the floor and out of the room. There was a perverse spot on the ground where his body had been, his blood pooled there. There was so much of it, so much it didn’t seem like there would be any left inside of him. You remembered, suddenly, Justin on the night of the outbreak. How you’d tried to put his blood back inside of him in the hopes that it would save him. How could you save the man you loved if all his blood was on the floor? 

“He’s alive?” Tommy asked from his place propped against the wall. There was a streak of blood down his face. 

“He’s alive,” you said. He closed his eyes and nodded, leaning his head against the wall. 

“Thank you,” he said, quietly enough that you could barely hear him. “I can’t…” 

“It’s OK,” you said. “We’ll get him back. He’ll be OK. He will.” 

You weren’t sure you believed it.

Jesse came back down and helped Tommy up before stopping near the door, keeping a safe distance from you and Gatling. 

“We got him on a horse,” he said. “We gotta move.” 

You gave him a nod and watched him get Tommy started on the stairs before you looked down at Gatling, her body drawn tight, ready to spring into action. 

“Gatling. Heel.” 

She looked up at you, muscle relaxing, and licked her lips. 

“You’re a good girl,” you said, trying to imbue as much praise into your voice as you could manage. “You did real good.” 

She wagged a little uncertainly and watched, waiting to follow you. Julie looped your arm around her shoulders while hers slipped around your waist and she helped you toward the stairs, taking it slow. You had to stop and rest once, not able to breathe, the warm gush of your blood when you pulled the air down low in your lungs making your head spin. 

“Think you can make it?” Julie asked, concerned. 

You nodded, wincing. 

“I’ll make it,” you said. “I know, we have to move.” 

She held you a little tighter and the cold air burned your lungs when you made it outside. Joel was draped over Ares, Gene mounted up behind him. Tommy was on his own horse, blood still on his face as he stared blankly at Joel’s limp body. 

“You can ride with me,” Julie said but you shook your head. You weren’t about to not be in control of a horse, not in this situation. You needed to have the power if something went wrong. You couldn’t trust anyone else to make Joel a priority if there were infected or raiders or, worst of all, the people who had attacked him to begin with. You needed to be able to move to protect him. 

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, even though you knew getting on Renaissance was going to hurt something fierce. “Don’t need to be slowin’ us down any more by putting two of us on a horse.” 

She went to protest but you pulled away from her and swallowed the sounds of your pain as you went to Renaissance and pulled yourself onto her. You called Gatling onto your saddle, too, and she settled there, still on high alert. You guided the horse to be alongside Gene and Joel and stared Gene down, almost daring him to fight you on it. 

“I want to get everyone back,” he said gently. “But if it’s not everyone, I want as many as I can get.” 

“Then let’s go,” you bit out. 

The ride back to Jackson felt long, longer than it really was, you were sure. Every step Renaissance made was painful. It was hard to stay conscious when you’d lost so much blood and the pain was blinding. You were terrified that something was going to happen, that someone was going to pick now to attack people from Jackson and that you wouldn’t be strong enough to save Joel. The thought was constant and overbearing, hollowing out your chest and making your stomach clench. 

By the time the walls of the city were in view, you were barely able to stay on your horse. Dina had ridden ahead to tell the doctors and the council what was happening and you were thankful for it as your head spun and vision grew spotty as you neared the gates. You were too out of it to notice that someone was there to catch you as your strength started to give out.

“Woah there!” You vaguely recognized Ryan, a guard you regularly saw when he went out on patrol, stomach turning as he lowered you to the snow. “Hey Doc! Got one here!” 

“No,” you shook your head, words starting to slur. The blood on your clothes was cold against your skin. “M’fine… Joel, need to help Joel…” 

“They’re getting him,” he said, looking down at you. He had a nice face, you thought. Pleasant and calming. “You got him back here, it’s OK. We’ll get you taken care of, it’s alright…” 

“Joel,” you closed your eyes. At least things were warmer here. It hurt less. “Need… Joel…” 

“We’ve got him,” Ryan said. His voice sounded so far away. “It’s alright, we’ve got him.” 

You barely remembered nodding before you passed out. 

You were warmer when you woke up. 

Sound came first. It took a moment before you could open your eyes but you could hear the muffled sounds of bickering not far away. For half a moment, you thought you were in Joel’s bed. That he and Ellie were in a tiff just outside his bedroom door, going back and forth about some harebrained scheme that one of them had latched onto. You thought about pressing your face into the pillow and trying to go back to sleep, hoping that Joel would come in once one of them wore the other down. He did that sometimes when he woke up before you, bringing you a cup of tea and setting it on the nightstand before wrapping around you, pulling you into his broad chest and burying his face in your hair or your neck, kissing you and breathing you in until you stirred in his arms. 

And then you remembered. Waking up next to Joel. Going on Patrol. The storm. The blood. 

You tried to sit up before your eyes were open, side pulling and head spinning. 

“Hey guys, she’s waking up!” 

Your eyes had never been heavier but you forced them open anyway, already reaching and groping to figure out where you’d ended up. 

The room was bright, the bed soft. It was the third time you’d managed to dodge death and awoken, confused and lightheaded, in Jackson’s clinic. The other bed was empty.  

“Joel,” you started trying to get up but two small hands held you in bed and you frowned, ready to fight whoever was holding you back, but it was Savvy, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, curls springing in every direction. 

“Mom, you have to be calm, you’ll rip your stitches…” 

She was here. She was with you, willing to talk to you, touch you. The sound of her voice, all gentle concern, made your chest tighten. You just looked at her for a moment, seeking out the minute changes in her since you’d gotten a chance to see her - really see her - last. You thought she might be having her last growth spurt. She looked a little longer, her face a little thinner. There was a scratch on her cheek that you wanted to kiss like you did when she was little. There were tears in her eyes. 

“Savvy…” 

“I was so scared,” her voice cracked. “I thought you might be dead, I thought…” 

“Oh honey,” you pulled her against you and held her to your chest, one arm looping around her waist, the other hand cradling her head to you, the wet of her tears on your neck. You kissed her temple and tried to keep the tears that were starting to cling to your eyelashes from falling. “It’s OK, you’re alright, I’ve got you. Don’t have to be scared, you’re OK.” 

“I’ve never seen you like that,” she sniffed from her place against your skin. “You’re always so strong, you’re never hurt, not like that…” 

“I know,” you said softly, rocking her gently. “I’m sorry, Honey, I wish you hadn’t seen that. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never see it again and we can talk all about it but baby, I need to know where Joel is. Is he here? Is he OK? Is he alive?” 

She sniffed and started to pull back from you as the door opened, Ellie, Tommy, Maria and Dr. Livingston coming in. They moved slowly, cautiously. Like they were worried you would startle if they behaved normally. Tommy looked washed out, Ellie exhausted, both with grim looks on their faces. Your arms went limp and Savvy sat back from you, looking between you and them. 

“No,” you shook your head, a lump growing in your throat. “No, no, you’re wrong, he’s not…” 

“He’s alive,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “Barely. But you got him here just in time, it was very very close while we worked on him…” 

“Where is he,” you tried to get up again but Savvy held you down. “I need to see him, just for a second, please…” 

“He’s still unconscious,” Dr. Livingston continued. 

You frowned, looking between everyone. 

“That’s bad,” you said, reading their expressions. “Why… How long has it been?”

“We’ve been back about two and a half days,” Tommy said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You nodded slowly. That made sense to you.

“He was hurt bad,” you said, looking between them again. “He lost a lot of blood…” 

“He did,” Dr. Livingston said. “But… well, we’d normally expect to see more from him by now. He’s breathing on his own - we don’t have the facilities to keep him alive if he can’t - but that’s the best we can really say for him. He’s… he’s unresponsive.” 

You processed what she said for a moment.

“You’re sure?” 

She nodded, her mouth a thin line. 

“Are you…” You had to close your eyes and focus for a second. None of this came easy or naturally. It was utterly unnatural, thinking of Joel in that way. He was so strong, so vital. He couldn’t just stop being like that. He couldn’t just fade away into nothing like that. “Are you saying he might not wake up?” 

“The longer he’s like this, the more likely it becomes,” Dr. Livingston said. 

“But he’s still alive,” you said, looking back toward Ellie and Tommy again, looking for that reassurance that you weren’t crazy. They knew him, they knew that he wouldn’t just disappear from his body like that. “He’s still breathing.” 

“He’s alive,” she said. “But he might be brain dead, we have no way of knowing right now, no way of scanning for brain function like we did before… I’m so sorry, but you have to consider the possibility that…” 

“Take me to see him,” you cut her off. She looked at Maria, worry in her eyes, like she thought you might be unstable. “Please.” 

Dr. Livingston sighed. 

“You’ve got a fair few fresh stitches and you’re still down plenty of blood yourself. We’ll have to take it slow.” 

Ellie and Savvy helped you stand up and you could feel the wounds on your leg and stomach protesting the movement. For a moment, you thought you might be able to count the number of stitches in your skin because the way it pulled and strained. You hissed and clutched the girls’ hands, squeezing their fingers so hard that you could only hope it didn’t hurt them. 

They helped you across a short hallway to a room that was almost identical to the one you’d been in, just with one fewer bed, giving people more room to work. Joel was there, flat on his back, his arms down straight at his sides over the top of the blanket. But he looked strange, unnatural. 

It took you a moment to recognized the part of it that was wrong. His chest rose and fell, the worst of his injuries hidden by the quilt. He looked like he was sleeping. But it was off. He never slept like that, straight as a board with his arms at his sides in that way. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t the way his body arranged itself when he was relaxed. Even when he wasn’t curled around you, he slept on his side or, if he was on his back, his hands were folded and resting where his chest met his stomach. He napped on the couch that way sometimes, when he was sleeping lightly, waiting for you. You could come in and press a kiss to his forehead and he would open one eye and cock a smile at you, just big enough that his cheek would dimple. 

But if your lips touched him now, you knew he’d be still. He wouldn’t look at you like you made him happy just by existing. His cheek wouldn’t dimple. 

You made your way to a chair near the head of the bed and lowered yourself into it slowly. His skin was pale, his face totally lax in a way that wasn’t peaceful and was, instead, like an echo. 

“Oh God,” you breathed, one hand going to your lips. 

“We’re doing everything we can,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “We have ways to get him fluids and nutrients but… it’s nothing long term. We’ll just have to hope he makes a turn for the better.”

You nodded, not able to stop looking at him. His body was so empty, so unlike him. 

“Can I stay with him?” You asked quietly. You weren’t sure when you’d started crying but you were. 

“Sure,” she said. “For now. But you need rest…” 

You just nodded. You’d fight that battle when the time came. 

The doctor left you with the girls, Tommy and Maria. Joel’s family and yours. All the people you had in the world in this one, small room. 

“I was going to go home and get changed, take a nap…” Ellie said quietly. “Can I bring you something?” 

“One of his shirts?” You asked. 

“Sure,” she said. You heard the door open and she paused. “You did everything you could, Bambi. We all did.” 

You nodded, not willing to argue with her. 

“I think Tommy and I will get out of here for a bit, too,” Maria said. “Give you some time. We’ll be back in a few hours unless I can actually get my husband to get some real sleep…” 

“He wouldn’t be sleepin’ if it were me,” Tommy said, voice sharper than you were used to hearing. 

Maria sighed. 

“Come on, honey,” she said. “You need rest, too.” 

The room was quiet for a moment, so quiet you could hear the sound of Joel’s shallow breaths. You wanted to put your head on his chest and listen to the life inside him, reassure yourself that he was still in there somewhere, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You’d already done enough. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was soft. “Is it… can I stay? For a bit?” 

You managed to pull your eyes away from Joel to find her, standing to the side, her arms tight over her chest. 

“Of course baby,” you said, looking for another chair. She found one first, moving it to be beside yours. She settled in there, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. She was looking at Joel, her face drawn. “How have you been?” 

She shrugged noncommittally. 

“Alright, I guess,” she said. “School is OK. Math is stupid.” 

You laughed lightly once. 

“Math’s not stupid but… I know what you mean. Wasn’t ever my strong suit. I liked history best. And music, of course.” 

“Course,” she smiled a little. “I like Ellie and… I like staying where I have been but… I missed you. Missed home.” 

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. 

“I missed you, too,” you said, voice wet. “So much. More than anything.” 

She nodded slowly, not looking at you. 

“I heard the doctors and some other people talking,” she said hesitantly. “What they were saying… It’s not the first time they’ve seen you hurt like this.” 

You waited for a moment, to make sure she was done. 

“It’s not,” you said. 

She nodded again. 

“How did you end up here?” She asked quietly. 

“I…” You sighed and tried to find the best way to phrase it. “I’d wound up with some bad people. I got hurt. Joel found me when I was in real bad shape. He brought me here. He saved me.” 

“When was that?” 

“About two years ago,” you said. 

“So you weren’t just here the whole time,” she said, more like a statement than a question. 

“No,” you said softly. “I wasn’t.” 

She nodded again. You could see her processing the information, her eyes slightly squinting as she did, so like her father used to do. It still tugged at your heart, bits and pieces of a man you’d loved still alive in his child. 

“I’m still not sure how I feel,” she said, gnawing on her lower lip. “But… I don’t want to keep being mad at you. I miss you. I’d… I’d like to find a way to see you. At least some. For now.” 

“I’d like that,” you said, sniffing a little. “I’d like that a lot. As much time as you want, honey, I’m here.” 

“OK,” she smiled a tight lipped smile at you before looking to Joel. “Do you really think he’ll wake up?” 

You sighed, looking at him, too. 

“I don’t really know anything about medicine,” you said. “But… I do know Joel. And I don’t knot that there’s anything that can keep him from taking care of the people he loves. And I know he knows Ellie needs him, you need him. And I…” your voice cracked. “I need him. He’s strong. He can pull through.” 

She nodded and slowly, gently, rested her head on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, not wanting to disturb her. But, eventually, you had to take a breath and she stayed there beside you, keeping vigil over the man who had become her guardian. 

Savvy ended up staying until after dark. Ellie came back only about an hour and a half after she left, bringing some clothes for you. You immediately put on the shirt, pressing your nose to the collar and breathing in Joel’s scent. She told you then that Savvy hadn’t left the clinic since you’d come in, always at your bedside, nearly ripping off the doctors’ heads when they dared suggest that she go home and get some rest. 

Ellie got her to go home that evening, though, after she gave you a delicate hug that, you thought, might be one of the best ones you’d ever gotten. Dr. Livingston wanted to keep you there for another few days, not something you were going to argue with since you weren’t about to leave while Joel was still there, anyway. She did make you move back to the other room and you gave up the fight quickly, waiting until you heard her leave for the night before going back across the hall, anyway. It was tricky, walking on your own when you were still healing, but you made it without any more blood leaking from you. You pulled your chair close to Joel and looked him over, tracing one finger over the soft skin of his cheek. He still looked so unnatural in this position, so unlike himself. You ran your fingers through his hair, arranging it just so, before you gently took his hands and put them at the base of his chest, one on top of the other. Not quite right, but better. It felt like his body was more his that way. 

“I’m here, Joel,” you said quietly, wanting more than anything to be able to curl up in his lap. “I’m here.” 

You sat on the floor next to the bed - not able to get comfortable enough in the chair to doze off - and rested your head on the mattress near his hip. This wasn’t exactly ideal, either, your stitches itching and pulling as you settled in, but you didn’t care. You had to be close to Joel. Some pain was worth that. 

The next day, you were shaken awake by a frustrated Dr. Palmer who was taking over so Dr. Livingston could get some rest. 

“You are bound and determined to be your own worst enemy,” she muttered, forcing you back to your own bed. She checked you over, reluctantly told you that you were healing well with no sign of infection. The second her back was turned, you were back in Joel’s room. 

Ellie, Tommy and Maria came by again, all of you sitting in near silence, watching Joel, waiting for him to do something - anything - to indicate that he was still in there. 

The next day was less quiet. You were in your usual position in the seat by the head of Joel’s bed when Tommy and Ellie started getting into it. It didn’t sound like a new argument and, you realized, the bickering you’d been only vaguely aware of as you regained consciousness was probably them. 

“I’m not going to sit around here and fucking wait forever,” Ellie snapped. “I’m going out there, I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill every last fucking one of them.” 

“We need to wait,” Tommy said, voice strained. Ellie didn’t seem to care. 

“Wait for them to get further and further away?” She snapped. “Wait for them to come back with more people? No, it’s too big of a fucking risk. I’m going out there.” 

“Need to wait until I can go with you,” Tommy snapped. “Need to wait until we know…” 

Tommy’s voice trailed off. 

“Until we know what?” Ellie demanded. “Until we know whether or not they successfully murdered him? No, fuck that, I’m going to beat the shit out of her with a goddamn golf club, make her fucking feel it…” 

“No, you won’t,” you cut her off. 

“I won’t?” She asked, brows raised, almost daring you to argue with her. “You’re not my fucking mom, Bambi, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I do or don’t get to do.” 

“You ever killed anyone, kid?” You asked, chin resting on your fist as you watched her. She just blinked at you for a moment. “And I mean people. Real people, not infected.” 

“Yeah,” she said, though her voice was less sharp. “Yeah, I have. Two.” 

“Alright,” you replied. “You torture them? You like killing them?” 

She was silent and just looked at her feet.

“That’s what I thought,” you looked back to Joel. “You’re not going after shit, kid…”

“I’m not a fucking kid!” 

“You’re his kid,” you shot her a glare before looking back at Joel. “And he wouldn’t want you murdering and torturing people for him.”

“But…” 

“No,” you said. “If… If he… If someone needs to handle it, it will be me and Tommy. We can take them and we can make it hurt. You’ll stay here. Not gonna just let you turn into a killer for him, he’d never forgive me. He’d never forgive either of us. One of the last things he said to me was to look out for you and you better goddamn well believe that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You’re not going any damn place.” 

She stormed out but Savvy came that evening. She brought a deck of cards and the two of you played Go Fish like you used to when she was little. She told you Ellie was cooling off but she thought she’d be OK. 

“I don’t blame her,” she said, arranging some cards in her hand. “If someone did that to you, I’d want to kill them, too.” 

You looked at her for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you said gently. She looked at you over the cards, skeptical. “I mean it. You hear that something bad happened to me, you take it and move on. Don’t hurt yourself thinking that will fix it. It would only make it worse.” 

The day after that, Ellie brought you your guitar. It made Dr. Palmer look nervous but you promised to take it easy and that music was how you relaxed. 

“Just don’t get all worked up and play Freebird,” she muttered, leaving you alone with Joel and your instrument. 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with Freebird?” You asked a silent Joel as you delicately arranged the guitar on your lap, dodging the stitches in your stomach and leg as you did. “There’s better shit out there…” 

You played for him whatever came to mind. The song you’d written for him kept cropping up. So did the songs you’d played with him, slower and gentler things that you tried to pull from memory, even Take on Me because it got stuck in your head. 

“Do you think he can hear me?” You asked Dr. Palmer that afternoon. 

She stepped back from him and sighed for a moment, looking at you as though she were going to gauge her answer around your demeanor. 

“No one knows for sure,” she said eventually. “But… if he could hear anybody, I think it would be you.”

By the end of the second day with your guitar, your whole body was sore and tired but you didn’t move to go back to your own room. Both doctors had given up on forcing you. You nearly ripped their heads off when they suggested you go to your house for a day or two, try to get some real rest. It was bad enough that they’d surrendered to your stubborn need to be where you could see Joel at all times, no longer willing to fight over what they thought was better for you. 

It was quiet, dark. You weren’t entirely sure what time it was but you thought everyone in town besides those on watch were at home. You were as close to home as you got now, home could only be where Joel was. You weren’t sure how to find home without him now. 

You played the song you’d written for him one more time, soft and slow, before propping the guitar against the wall and sitting delicately on the edge of the bed, careful to not disturb him. You adjusted his arms a bit, putting them where you knew he would rest them if he could move them on his own. You gently brushed his hair back. His patchy beard was getting long in spots and you wondered if Ellie could bring scissors and a razor the next time she came so you could trim it for him, keep it how he liked. You drew the shirt of his you wore tighter to yourself and just looked at him for a moment. He was so beautiful, even like this. You needed him so badly, needed him to be OK. You needed to be able to wake up next to him again, kiss him on your way out the door again, make love to him again. He couldn’t be gone, not now. Not like this.

“Joel,” you said softly, barely even a whisper. “I know… I know I should probably tell you that if you need to go, it’s OK, that we’ll be OK but… I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to do this without you, I don’t want to do this without you. I need you, I’m not sure I can be a real person without you. If you’re already gone then… then knowing you was one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m thankful for every goddamn second of it. But if you’re still there, if you can hear me… I need you to come back to me, Joel. Just… please. Don’t leave me, don’t leave the girls, I just… I will do whatever you want, just stay. Just come back to me. Please.” 

He was still below your touch but you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, anyway, his skin soft and warm. A tear slipped from your eyelash and fell to his cheek but you didn’t move to wipe it away. You had the odd thought that maybe he would absorb it, that his skin would soak up your salt and your sadness and then, even if he didn’t come back, at least he’d have part of you in him when you put him in the ground. You wondered if you’d be able to join him. You slid off the bed and tucked your legs up against yourself, crossing your arms atop the mattress and resting your head there, drifting off to the sound of his breathing. 

***

All Joel really knew was that he was somewhere warm and soft. Warm and soft and kinder than where he’d been before, though the memory of just before was fuzzy. He remembered you, waking up with you, being inside of you, kissing you goodbye. He remembered watching Ellie ride off with her friend for their patrol. He remembered laughing with his brother about something but didn’t remember what. Everything after that was a haze of blood and pain. 

But he was warm now, somewhere that was familiar but he was having a hard time placing it. Grass and trees and a park bench that was more comfortable than it had any right to be, the sound of birds and cicadas on the air. But there were no other people. None that he could see, anyway. 

He heard voices now and then. There were some he knew were familiar but he couldn’t quite place. Others he’d have known anywhere. You, Ellie, Savvy, Tommy, Maria. It was a haze, he could make out the tones and the melodies of your speech but not the words. But that was OK. He knew all of you were close and that was enough. 

There was music, too. He would have recognized your playing from anywhere but it still seemed so obvious from wherever he was. But your music sounded sad, some kind of longing in it that wasn’t there when you usually played for him. He wanted to fix it, wanted to come from wherever he was and make it better. He just wasn’t sure that he could. But he kept hearing the song you made for him. That song was clearer than any other, so present he almost thought it was the version of it you’d recorded for him. But it wasn’t followed by the words he’d come to know so well in the months without you, the ones you’d added to the end of the tape that he listened to every night since you left. Every night until the one you came back to him. 

Come back to me, Joel. 

“Dad?” 

Joel looked around for a moment, heart pounding. He knew that voice, had heard it inside his head so many times through the years. But never like this, never this close. And then Sarah was in front of him, her curls a halo around her head, skin almost glowing in the golden sun. 

“Baby girl.” 

He realized where he knew this place from. It was a park in Austin that he took her to all the time when she was a little girl. The skyline was at his back if he could turn to face it, a playground down the hill to the right. She’d loved the open field, though. She loved being able to just run and run and run with nothing to hold her back. He tried to make himself get to his feet but he couldn’t. She just smiled. It was warm, gentle but more knowing than he’d remembered it being. But then, maybe he’d forgotten. Because otherwise, she looked exactly the same as the last time Joel had seen her, down to the clothes. Except her purple shirt wasn’t bloodstained now, her ankle wasn’t hurt. She was whole, healthy, the way she always should have been.

“Long time no see,” she sat beside him on the bench and he was able to reach her then. He reached for her slowly, cautiously, but he didn’t need to worry. She reached back, putting her arms around his neck. He held her, close and tight. She was warm and soft but the heat wasn’t coming from her. Instead it was like she was part of the place where he was, warm like the sun. She pulled back from him before too long but left a delicate hand on his knee. He tried to memorize her, make sure he knew the precise constellations of her freckles and the way her lashes framed her eyes. She looked him over and smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “You’re getting old, old man.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed a little, still not sure what to say to her. “Yeah, I know, baby girl. I know.” 

“I’ve missed you,” she was still smiling but it was sadder now. “A lot.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, his voice wet. “So, so much. You have no idea how much…” 

“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen. You’ve been through a lot, Dad. So much. I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have helped you.” 

“That’s not your job…” 

“I know,” she said again. “But I still wanted to.” 

“How are you?” He asked. “I want to know everything, everything…” 

“I’ve been good,” she smiled. “I met your friend Tess. I like her. I liked her before, too, but even more now. She’s a lot like you, I’m glad you had her.” 

“How…” 

“Dad, I would love to tell you everything,” she cut him off. “But we don’t have time.” 

He frowned. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we didn’t get enough time before, but we should now, we…” 

“We will,” she reached out and took his hands. “Eventually. But not yet. You’ve gotten old, old man, but not old enough. You’re not supposed to be here yet. You still have a lot to do. You have people who need you, people who love you. They really, really love you, Dad. You need to go back for them. You’ve been here long enough.” 

Don’t leave me.

He looked up, looking for where your voice was coming from. Sarah just smiled. 

“She needs you,” she said. “And you need her.” 

She was right. He could feel that in every inch of him. He wanted to be next to you, wanted the life that he could have with you that had been so close when he’d left Jackson that morning. Just you and him and your girls. He wanted it so much it hurt. But how could he leave his daughter? His baby girl, the first baby girl he’d held, the first one he’d failed. How could he leave her again?

“Baby girl, I love them, too but I can’t just leave you here alone…” 

She smiled gently. 

“I’m not alone, Dad. And it’s OK if I’m not your whole world anymore,” she gave his leg a squeeze. “It’s OK if you have another purpose. I want you to be happy. Her, Ellie, Savvy… they make you happy. They’re your purpose now. You deserve that. Go be happy. I’ll be here when you’re done. We’ll have time then, too. I promise.” 

Just stay. 

“Go be with them, Dad,” she said. “Go be happy. We’ll be together when it’s time.” 

Just come back to me.

“I love you so much, Sarah,” he said, reaching out and holding her face in his hand. “So, so much.” 

Please. 

“I know,” she smiled. “And I love you too.” 

There was a wet spot on his cheek but he wasn’t crying. He frowned, touching his skin there, a tear clinging to his finger when he pulled it away. The place he was glowed brighter. Sarah’s face was somehow further away though neither of them had moved. He could feel himself fading from here, going back to where he was before. Part of him hurt with that, clinging to Sarah so hard that it seemed as though he was going to leave that part of him behind. But the rest of him was bringing him back, desperate to get to you, be beside you. That’s where he was supposed to be. He knew that now. He was always supposed to live. He was always supposed to flinch. He was always supposed to find you. 

“I’ll see you around,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Take care of them. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

Everything hurt. 

It was sudden and sharp, the place where he was abruptly dark and cold. He wasn’t sure he could move much, every part of him impossibly heavy. But he forced his eyes open, at least. He was flat on his back and in a bed. It took him a moment to realize where, but the fact that there was medical equipment near his head narrowed it down. He heard a soft, sleepy sound and forced himself to lift his head enough to look for it. It didn’t take him long to find you there, head resting near his waist. He smiled to himself. Part of him was just relieved that he hadn’t dreamed you coming back to him, relieved that you’d want anything to do with him at all now. 

He forced his arm to move, the limb unnaturally clunky, every motion pulling and tugging on damaged skin but he didn’t really care. He rested a hand on your head, smoothing your hair down, thumb brushing against your forehead. You startled and jerked awake, sitting up quickly and blinking sleep from your eyes. His hand fell to your arm when you did and looked around for a moment before your eyes fell on him, the glow of the moon on the snow illuminating your face in the dark. You frowned for a moment, your brows knitting together. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel managed, his voice dry and cracking. 

“Joel!” You scrambled to your feet, taking his hand and clinging to it as you did. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re…” 

“I’m alright, baby,” he said gently. You sank slowly onto the bed at his waist, clutching onto his hand. “You OK?” 

“I’m OK,” you nodded quickly, your voice wet. “Tommy’s OK, Ellie’s OK, we’re all OK. I was so afraid, Joel. I was so afraid. I thought you were gone, I thought I lost you…” 

“I know,” he winced as he reached the hand you weren’t latched onto over to cup your face. “I’m so sorry, baby. Wasn’t tryin’ to go anywhere…” 

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles before holding his arm to your chest, clinging to it like a child does to a security blanket. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him up an down. “I can go wake up a doctor and…” 

“M’fine sweetheart,” he said, brushing a thumb over the arch of your cheekbone. “Don’t… don’t go anywhere, need you close. Just…” He did his best to shift himself so he wasn’t in the middle of the bed, wincing as he did. “Just be here. Let me hold you, OK?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” 

“You won’t,” he said gently. “Need to feel you. Just stay with me, baby. Please.” 

You sniffed but nodded before you moved gingerly to slip into bed beside him. You lay your head gently on his chest and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. It took a moment but he felt you relax against him, body molding to his own. He turned his head enough to brush his lips against your forehead. 

“I can’t lose you, Joel,” you said softly. “I can’t, I need you to stay.” 

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding you as close as he could, everywhere your body met his a welcome distraction from the pain. “Not going anywhere.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Yeah, sorry, I can't bring myself to kill Joel lol I love him too much, I need to let him have all the beautiful things he deserves to have.

Thank you so so much for being so patient with this chapter. I promise, I didn't intend to leave you hanging for weeks on end and I feel so bad that I did. Thank you for still reading and for being here. I feel like I've messed up a lot on how I've handled this fic lately - between not understanding how many folks didn't know the TLOU2 stuff and not giving proper warning and then posting that last chapter and not having this one lined up and ready to go - so thank you for not ditching me and this fic. It really does mean so much that you spend your time here with these characters.

Thank you again ❤️ Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

[analog-kidd]

If Tekken had Tumblr

🌩yggdrasil--official☑️ Follow

ok so it seems like it's impossible to kill heihachi at this point, but are we able to at least castrate him?

#bro has enough kids #and im lowkey kind of tired of finding out about long lost siblings

(40,221 notes)

🪵theancientdoll Follow

(man i love being an ancient sentient wooden training dummy😊 i hope no russian soldier rips my head off for their model kit)

🪆white-reaper-and-death Follow

hmm? >:)

🪵theancientdoll Follow

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(1,005 notes)

☯️kazama-son Follow

You know what? I've been feeling better about myself and my situation

🐂spanishbull42 Follow

Oh fuck off you warmongering shit eating asshole!! You killed people!!! YOU MURDERED MY SISTER!!!!

KILL YOUR SELF NOW!!!!!!!

🧡littlephoenixdance Follow

Hey!!!! Dont be mean :((( He said he was sorry :(((

🐼pandapandapandaland Follow

(Yeah don't be mean to Jin😡)

(331 notes)

🕺zum-zum-zum-capo Follow

Oof been so busy with dealing with gcorp stuff that I haven't had the time to do a lot things for *me* ya know?

😽luckykawaiigirl☑️ Follow

✨✨✨✨✨How about I help you get more free time by becoming one of my backup dancers (-‿◦☀) (づ ◕‿◕ )づ ✨✨✨✨✨

💃purplecapoeirista Follow

#goawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoaway #NOBODY LIKES YOU

(35,066 notes)

👠no1-williams-assassin Follow

Hmmmm haven't fucked with my younger sister in awhile… might do something about that

(83 notes)

🪶thestrongestmanintheworld Follow

ALRIGHT GUYS IMMA DO A BACK FLIP AND IT WILL BE AWSOME!!!!!!!!

🪶thestrongestmanintheworld Follow

HOPITAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(30 notes)

🥷manji-ninja-samurai Follow

Fellow Tekkblr users!!! I am currently in a bit of a rut. I cannot think of what my next armor set will look like!!! So, out of the kindness of your hearts, will you help me with by giving me some ideas so I can finally start drafting the design!!

🥋polska-karate☑️ Follow

I recall that one of you previous armors was H. R. Giger inspired, correct? I suggest looking into the artist Zdzisław Beksiński, his art is similar to Giger but still quite unique and quite haunting.

🪆white-reaper-and-death Follow

beksinski's art is old and overrated, how about someone more modern like Vergvoktre.

🥋polska-karate☑️ Follow

Hmm is that so? Do you really think Yoshimitsu should take inspiration from a current day artist? Or is your distaste--since you called him overrated--for Beksiński's art is for a different reason?

🥷manji-ninja-samurai Follow

#pls no fighting guys :( #i already have people in my inbox arguing

(5,112 notes)

👿ceo-of-the-world☑️ Follow

Humanity sucks

I'm taking over the world

💜excellent-violet-guy☑️ Follow

Bro what is your problem????

👿ceo-of-the-world☑️ Follow

(57,119 notes)

🔮tarot-and-more Follow

Ugh, doing readings and fortunes has been a lot more difficult with Azazel always getting in my way and knocking things over.

🔮tarot-and-more Follow

To everyone asking for pictures of my cat, I regret that I have to inform you all that Azazel is not my cat.

Azazel is an ancient demon that is sealed within my left arm.

🌠theshootingstarofitaly Follow

Ah such a predicament you are in Zafina

🔮tarot-and-more Follow

I don't think christposting is going to help my situation Claudio but I appreciate the sentiment I guess.

#also I don't think that verse relates to my situation #but I'm not christian so I'm not too sure

(3,103 notes)

🚀the-better-williams-sis Follow

MY FACKING TOLET BLEW UP!!!?????!!!?!??!??!!?

#SHIT IS EVERYWWHERRE #NINA WHEN I GET MY FACKING HANDS ON YOU

(441 notes)

🍜normalguyforest Follow

Am... I... the only person whose dad is still alive??? Cause it certainly feels like that,,,

👠no1-williams-assassin Follow

Yep

🦵️mrtaekwondomaster Follow

Yep

🐆kingofwrestling-2 Follow

Yep

🌲savethetrees--official☑️ Follow

I was abandon as a baby so idk if my bio dad is still alive

but I was adopted by a single woman so I dont have a "father" in a sense

🦚️hotgirlshit Follow

im also adopted but i know that my bio parents are fr dead

my adopted dad he's uhhhh

🦚️hotgirlshit Follow

well hes not dead but hes uhhhhhh yeah…

💎gn-spelunker Follow

uhhh I found my dad who I thought was dead

👿ceo-of-the-world☑️ Follow

I wish my dad was dead.

#hate you old man why cant you fucjing DIE

(8,445 notes)

⚡️the-invincible-mishima☑️ Follow

I don't know why everyone wants to kill me I am such a likable guy

☯️kazama-son Follow

No you're fucking not

🥋polska-karate☑️ Follow

No you're fucking not

💜excellent-violet-guy☑️ Follow

No you're fucking not

🌩yggdrasil--official☑️ Follow

No you're fucking not

🤖bot-conovitch Follow

No you're fucking not

🍃theolderchang Follow

No you're fucking not

(183,447 notes)

✊tekkblr-staff☑️

Don't ask us for shit

(600,778 notes)

[judgeanon]

It Sure Has Been a Wild Couple of Days to be a Lady Shiva Fan

(Art by Skylar Partridge)

So after only showing up for a backup story in DETECTIVE COMICS a few months ago and for a few pages in the last issues of BATGIRLS back in January, turns out that Lady Shiva is gonna be a major part of not one, but two different series come November. Putting my thoughts under the jump 'cause they might be long:

First, there's an all-new BATGIRL ongoing written by Tate Brombal and drawn by Takeshi Miyazawa. I'm not really familiar with either of them, but I'm gonna try to check some of their work in the weekend. As for the plot:

When a deadly group of assassins shows up to kill Cassandra Cain, Lady Shiva must come to the rescue, and they’re forced to put their complicated past aside and work together as mother and daughter to ensure they make it out alive. Unfortunately, things are never as easy as they seem, and Batgirl must embark on a jaw-dropping, martial-arts filled adventure in her quest for truth and justice…and revenge?! This is a Batgirl unlike any other so don’t miss the opportunity to dive into the psyche of one of Gotham City’s deadliest fighters, while exploring her deep and complex relationship with her mother.

Here's the thing: while I am overjoyed that after Bryan Hill's OUTSIDERS we've pretty much exorcised the idea of Shiva as a zealous, card-carrying member of the League of Assassins, I've been a little bothered by how literally every single big Shiva appearance afterwards has revolved around Cass. Even in that weird short stint leading a new Birds of Prey team, her motivation was somehow gaining Cass' trust for... reasons. So I'm glad Shiva's no longer an LoA flunky, but I'm concerned with how she seems so tied at the hip with Cass -- especially since Cass does get to have stories that don't involve Shiva at all.

But at the same time, I do think there's a lot of meat on that bone, meat that, in my eye, nobody has really sank their teeth in yet. Hill tried but he was working within a team book, and Cloonan and Conrad just sorta teased it. This one, however, feels like a story about Shiva and Cass built from the ground up, with all the room necessary for some actual development from the two. This is them not as a subplot or as a tease for future stories, but as The Story. And while that may go in a bunch of different ways, I'm definitely interested to see what way this will go.

Annnd then there's Tom King and Ryan Sook's BLACK CANARY: BEST OF THE BEST, which I'm... a little less interested in.

Black Canary faces her toughest opponent yet, Lady Shiva, in a battle to determine who is the single greatest hand-to-hand fighter in the DC Universe. To make it to the final round, Black Canary will need all her fighting skill and ability, plus additional training from some of DC’s most accomplished fighters, including Batman, Wildcat, and even her mother, the original Black Canary!

Yeaaaaah, I just... I'm not feeling this one. There's not any real mention of a plot here, not a lot to really grab on to other than vibes, and the vibes are just weird. It's weird how Dinah is fighting to determine who's the best fighter, something that to me isn't really a huge part of her character. It's weird that, from the preview pages, they're fighting in like a Vegas casino, in a ring, with an audience. It's weird that there's three trainers mentioned and none of them are Cass, who not only has beaten Shiva before but has trained with Dinah at least twice in canon. And this being tumblr, let me say it's also weird that this is a story about a white woman training with three white people to beat up an Asian woman in martial arts.

It's a six issue mini and the short solicit and weirdness is clearly meant to pique curiosity. But I'm dreading how much this all sounds like it's using Shiva to put Dinah in a pedestal, to show how strong and resilient and stubborn she can be. Even if it goes for a ROCKY ending of "Lost the fight but won at life", unless Shiva is written very thoughtfully, it feels like she's just gonna be there for the sake of Dinah's character. And I dunno if I trust King to write Shiva with any real thought.

So that's kinda where I'm at. Neither of these are a full Shiva solo, and one of them fills me with dread, but it's been a real rush to have two major Shiva-related projects like these be revealed one after the other. And with 2025 being the 50th anniversary of her debut, hey, who knows? Maybe this is just paving the road for something special. Hope springs eternal, no?

[tommyssupercoolblog]

can I ask what happened w that artist and you? totally fine if you don't want to tell I'm just noisy

They had been bullying a friend of mine and we found out they were stalking that friend's blog because I commented under a post and then got a BUNCH of hate anons with the sentence structure/writing style, and a lot of them with purposefully bad spelling. Showed them to my friend and they were like. "Yeah I think that's them, or could be anyway". After I blocked the Anon through my askbox, a little bit later bunch of anons (again with the same writing style and harping the same points) came through on a BACKUP account but this only happened like two other times before they apparently ran out and it all stopped. And again the spelling appeared to be bad on purpose? Probably to cloak it.

Anyways, we were suspicious about how we got this right after interacting with our friend a bunch, but what confirmed our suspicions was that the artist's account, who I had not blocked yet, was magically marked as blocked after I blocked all the anons. Meaning that when I clicked "block Anon" on one or more of the messages, it hit the account.

The common threads that came up in the anons are: they claimed factives aren't real because the concept is creepy and that we were faking being a system, they called Seán "it" in a very transphobic manner (hey can we maybe not call nonbinary/multigender people "it"? Ffs), called me a retard and made fun of my autism, and told us both to kill ourselves. Yikesies.

They also, ironically, accused me of spelling Seán wrong because his source's name is spelled Sean.... Except it ISN'T spelled Sean. Seán is the correct spelling FOR SOURCE TOO!!! Source has gone on camera multiple times and explained that it's Seán because that's what makes it pronounced Shaun and not See-an or whatever, the á makes a sound in the gaelic language that changes the pronunciation. the main reason people in the JSE fandom spell is Sean without the á is because they don't know how to make the á symbol on their keyboards, so Sean becomes a close approximation.

They also did send Seán a message too, but he only got one compared to my MULTIPLE ones. Unsure why.

We also reported some of the messages, but idk if Tumblr staff did anything.

I only screenshotted one of the messages? But I can show it. I'll put it under the cut for trigger reasons. CW for....awful behavior, but here's the screenshot I DO still have under the cut. It doesn't cover everything that was said but it actually does contain MOST of the points I mentioned because it's long as fuck

Anyways 🩷💖 awful and horrible but at least the bad spelling made it like. Sort of funny? It cushioned the blow, which is silly because it was probably only done so they could get away with being mean to me. But all it did was make me go "wow this is kinda silly"

[ghostmistdraws]

Get Him To Swap Our Places

Synopsis: Hunter and Crosshair were able to kill the clone assassin... but they're not prepared for who they find underneath that helmet.

Word Count: 1136

A/N; WARNING ANGST AHEAD!!! I've never post any of my fics on Tumblr, but I figured this might do well here. Anyway, still sobbing from the finale so forgive any spelling errors

Crosshair was barely awake and his head was throbbing for the second time. Every single terrible memory of this place was replaying all over again. He’d gotten his brothers captured, tortured. It should have been him, they should have ran and called for backup. Now they were all going to die, because of his failure.

But, fate had other plans for them. And fate’s name was Omega. She’d come back for him, she’d come back for him again. 

Crosshair's body ached and his head spun. He was seeing double, which definitely didn’t help with his already terrible aim. But he still fought like hell. For his brothers, for his sister.

The Darktroopers were highly skilled, highly trained. Crosshair knew that, he remembered the conditioning process all too well. His hands still trembled whenever he thought about it. But, he clenched his fists tighter around his blaster and pressed on. His shots were a little sloppy and uncoordinated, things that would have got him highly reprimanded when he was a cadet on Kamino. Yet, right now, all he could think about was keeping his family alive.

Crosshair screamed out as he saw Hemlock cuffing Omega and dragging her away. He thought he did, at least, but not a single sound came out of his mouth. A sinking feeling rushed through his body at the thought of losing her all over again. Crosshair knew how skilled she truly was, but he couldn’t stop that jolt of anxiety that ran through his body at the very idea.

But the only thing that filled his veins the moment Omega left his sight was rage. He knew these Darktroopers were not acting of their own accord, but he still was pissed. He was pissed at Hemlock.

Crosshair saw red. He didn’t care what happened to him now, he was going to fight like hell to save his family. If he died, so be it. He blasted, punched, and kicked troopers over and over again. 

But when he was distracted, that clone assassin jumped him. They were both knocked to the floor. Crosshair fought for his life, but the assassin was strong and had him pinned down. 

“Crosshair!” He heard Hunter’s voice and managed to catch his brother’s eye. Hunter picked up the electric javelin that one of the troopers had been wielding and nodded to Crosshair. They immediately understood each other.

Crosshair managed to curl his legs in and kicked the assassin as hard as he could directly in the chest. The assassin skidded backwards, slamming into one of the pillars, and Hunter hurled the spear. It flew through the air and right through the assassin’s heart, spearing him to the pillar.

Hunter offered Crosshair a hand and pulled him back to his feet. Crosshair was breathing heavily and leaned on his brother for support as his legs were still weak. The rage finally simmered out of his system and left him feeling empty and exhausted. His eyes lingered on the dead assassin for a moment.

Despite it all, Crosshair felt this strange kinship with the mysterious clone assassin. They were both forced into roles that they didn’t want, that they didn’t choose. That choice was stripped from them. And now, this clone, this brother, was killed fighting for another corrupt organization, without a single say in the matter.

Crosshair took a quick step towards the assassin, skewered to the pole with a javelin like some kind of animal. Clones deserved better than this, better than being experiments like he was. Crosshair reached up to the assassin’s helmet.

“Be free.” He murmured in a quiet voice, so only they’d hear him.

Then, he removed the helmet.

Nothing could have prepared him for the shock and horror that filled his veins. It was so strong it almost knocked him off his feet. Crosshair’s eyes widened so much it felt like they might pop right out of their sockets. His mouth fell agape. He took a step back that almost made his knees give out on him. His mind reeled.

This had to be some kind of sick joke.

Tech.

Why did this bastard have his brother’s face? He couldn’t be. Tech had died on Eriadu, right? That’s what Omega had told him, that’s what she said had happened. Plan 99. But, it was Hemlock who’d given them his goggles. If Hemlock found Tech…

Oh god, no…

Crosshair wanted to throw up. His hands trembled without ceasing. He took a few unsteady steps backwards, running right into Hunter. He also was stood frozen in complete shock and horror. His eyes trailed to his own hand, then back to Tech.

Hunter couldn’t believe what he’d done. He knew that time was short, he had to get to Omega, but he couldn’t bring his feet to move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the body of his dead brother. His heart felt like it had been ripped straight out of his chest.

Hunter killed his little brother.

He’d done it for a second time. He couldn’t save Tech, again. The sight of his little brother with such a lifeless and cold expression on his once soft face made his chest tighten. His warm brown eyes, once full of such intelligence and curiosity for the universe, were without color or life. Hemlock had done this. He’d turned Hunter’s brother into some mindless killing machine who’d follow orders without question or remorse.

Hunter felt bile rising in his throat at the realization. The realization of what his brother had become. Tech wasn’t allowed to rest in peace. His final action should have been his sacrifice, his selfless choice to save the rest of them. But that choice had been stripped of him.

By Hemlock.

Hunter knew he didn’t have time for a proper goodbye. They’d come back for Tech, give him the proper burial on Pabu that he deserved. They’d finally let him rest, finally let him stop fighting.

But, right now, they had to save Omega. Hemlock couldn’t be allowed to do this again. Not to one of Hunter’s family. He’d die before he’d let it happen. Hunter approached Tech’s body and gently pressed his forehead to his brother’s. Hunter’s eyes gently closed, a single tear escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheek.

Tech’s skin was cold and clammy, but Hunter didn’t care. He remembered the time when his brother was full of light and life. When he’d eagerly explain a new concept that they’d discovered, or gush to Hunter about a new project. When they’d used to do this after a long fight.

Because that was the Tech that deserved to be remembered. And he would. As long as Hunter lived, as long as any of them lived, Tech would never truly die. He’d live on in their memories and in their hearts.

[judasgot-it]

Tachihara x Reader

Scenario: You get a ride home with Tachihara after attending a company party. On the way back, you decide to attend a shitty pop-up carnival

I had this in my drafts for like over 2 months so I just wanted to like, finally finish it. I think it's silly and idk not the best, still figuring out how to write Tachihara TBH but I think he's a cutie patootie.

Side note this is like 3500 words ?? it's kinda long for tumblr but ima upload it anyway

As the secretary of the Hunting Dogs, you were unfortunately forced to attend their company parties.

If there was someone else in your department, you would have loved to complain to them about how this was 'unfair' and a 'worker's violation' as you were not even being paid to attend these.

Off the clock.

But no one else was dumb enough to take this job, so you were the only person in your department. Seriously, you did the paperwork for 5 people.

The dental was amazing, though.

But that left you as the only 'sane' person forced to witness the antics of the Hunting Dogs while they were drunk. Really, you forced to watch them sober, since you couldn't ever get more than a drink in before the drinking contest began.

You would think Tecchou would be better than this but as of now, he was doing karaoke with the commander while Teruko was laughing at...nothing. She was somehow standing though, which was better than Fukuchi who was shirtless and kneeling on the floor while singing whatever song was playing.

You could barely tell what it was, it might've been Taylor Swift. He seemed...passionate.

If you had to hear whatever sad song it was all night you were going to make your ears bleed.

Although thankfully, you had a backup plan. You couldn't drive - your car was destroyed in a recent bombing attack, so you were lucky that your bed for tonight was your desk.

Which was on the other side of the building, probably far enough away to at least let you sleep quietly.

You could probably get away with it. No one here would notice.

So you took your snacks - which were probably the best thing about these parties, and left for what would be your bedroom

Exiting the room, you could see now that it was quiet and kind of terrifying - a liminal space.

The hallway was now darker than it should have been, settled in an uneasy quiet. The lights above your head had sobered you up quickly, as you walked away from the room, leaving the sounds of laughter and screaming.

You felt something warm pull your shoulder to look behind you. The reaction you had might have been dramatic.

"Are you ok? You aren't scared are you?"

Tachihara was there, smiling as he looked perfectly sober - he didn't even smell of any alcohol, holding a juice box instead.

Now you felt a real fear coursing through your veins. He was going to say something, wasn't he?

"No, I was just heading out."

You weren't shaken easily - unsettled yes, but not truly scared.

"Do you want a ride home?" He said it with a genuine smile, not knowing the genuine terror that was running through your veins right now.

You really did care about Tachihara, as he was probably the most normal member of the Hunting Dogs, but there was one flaw you could not get around.

He drove a motorcycle. You hated motorcycles.

It was nothing short of terrifying every time you saw him riding it, let alone the thought of you getting on it. How could you? It was nothing short of a death trap.

There were no seatbelts either, there was just too much that could possibly kill you.

"No that's ok. I didn't plan on going home anyway, I was going to sleep in my office."

It sounded weird saying it outloud, but you were not going to let him take you on a ride on his deathtrap.

Tachihara just blinked.

"Really? Isn't it closed off still for cleaning?"

Oh. Right.

"Then the lounge. I can manage. Seriously, don't worry about me, just get yourself home, ok? I don't want to be a bother when it's so late."

You tried to sound serious, but Tachihara was still a man that had major flaws. His right now? Being too kind.

A good flaw, but a painful one to fight.

"No it's ok, you aren't a bother. Seriously, your house isn't far off from mine, it'd be very quick I swear."

He was earnest, already leading you in the opposite direction of where you were originally going. You decided not to fight it.

Home was better than a dirty floor anyway, so why not?

You let him guide you to where his vehicle of death was waiting, accepting your fate.

It would be a short ride, so you would just have to suffer through it for only a little bit. That's what you told yourself.

"Oh, Jouno! What are you doing out here?"

Oh god oh please no.

Just at your greatest inconvenience, you found Jouno outside the building, right in front of the parking lot, sitting right at the smoker's bench. His white head of hair peaked from underneath the overhang, nearly impossible to ignore.

"Oh, Tachihara. Are you heading home?"

"Yeah, I was bringing Y/n home too. Do you need a ride? I can't help but notice you're sitting here by yourself..."

Tachihara was too kind. You were already forced to accept his offer, but please, Jouno could take care of himself-

"Tachihara have I ever told you that you're one of the only people I respect on the team?"

Jouno had gotten up, strolling over to where the two of you stood underneath the light. You hated this. Jouno definitely was going to tease you about how scared you were, which was not fun at all.

Also, how were three people going to fit on his bike? It wasn't exactly the biggest, and shoving you between two full-grown men didn't seem ideal.

"Are you sure we're all going to fit? I could just go back inside or call a ride."

You said this in hopes of maybe getting out of it one last time. Jouno just laughed.

"Aw, are you scared?"

Tachihara, the angel that he was, reached over and patted your shoulder.

"You'll have me and Jouno. Know I won't let anything happen to you - swear on it."

"You swear on what?"

Tachihara paused, contemplating his next words.

"Um...my sword."

You raised your eyebrow at him. He patted your shoulder again, trying to put your unease to rest.

"Let's just go."

Jouno walked ahead, towards what will be your sudden demise. You tried to stay calm following behind them as you saw the death trap in waiting.

Tachihara walked towards its side, taking the helmet he had let hang on its handlebar, and gently placed it on top of your head. You didn't bother fighting him, looking to the side as he fiddled with the clasps underneath your chin.

"You probably need this the most. Don't worry though, I'm a safe driver."

"It's not that - what if there's a drunk driver and they hit us? What if I fall off? What if we're all too heavy and we can't turn properly and we crash and explode?"

You felt a hand land on your shoulder as your heart pumped through your ears. Your fear was starting to overwhelm you.

"Don't be a pussy Y/n. Get on, I'd like to go home."

That was really reassuring. Thanks, Jouno.

You straightened up, holding your sandwiches closer to your chest. Tachihara sat on the bike, patting the seat behind him.

You got on, pressing your body behind Tachihara's. You didn't know what to do with your arms, so you just clutched your sandwiches. They were your sense of comfort right now.

"Y/n, you'll fall off if you don't hold onto something."

Oh. With one arm, you grabbed Tachihara's waist, trying your best to keep your head up and look forward.

"Scoot forward."

You felt Jouno sit behind you, pressing you closer against Tachihara. You felt his hand sneak around you, stealing from your sandwich bag. Bastard.

You swatted him away, trying not to fall off. It led to you leaning your full body on Tachihara, who was taking a long time to put his keys in the ignition.

"Did you forget how to drive Tachihara? I'm getting a little cold back here."

Jouno said this with a mouthful of your sandwich. He chastises manners but here he was, a thief and a brat.

"Who said you could have my sandwiches?"

"They aren't yours, know your place Y/n."

"You didn't even stay to eat any of them so shut up-"

The bike started, to Tachihara's joy. You felt the fear course back through your body again, but you didn't get to dwell on it it again as he only kicked back the leg and started bike, not giving you even a chance to adjust yourself.

You tried to hold your head up and stay strong, not show weakness - but the wind picking up around you and all you could do was bury your head behind Tachihara.

You heard Tachihara and Jouno begin a conversation but you didn't even acknowledge it, not even the sandwich stealing anymore as you held onto the man before you as if your life depended on it. Hopefully, his surgeries were enough to protect against your iron grip, as it was the only thing that made you truly feel safe.

The ride wasn't even a full 5 minutes but you felt like you were in hell that whole time. You'd think being pressed against two men like this would be more romantic but you didn't feel that way, instead feeling bile rise up in your throat every time you all turned.

"That stupid carnival is back in the city. I can smell it from all the way over here."

You perked up at that. Jouno had his head up, his hands loosely holding onto your waist - this type of ride really did seem normal to him, as he just looked out somewhere, eating his sandwich.

"Oh that seems fun. Do you wanna go? They stay open pretty late."

Jouno scoffed.

"No, they absolutely reek. I also happen to value my sleep, unlike some people." The people you assumed he was referring to were his teammates, who were most likely either passed out drunk or still singing their godawful karaoke.

"Why don't you and Y/n go, I know you absolutely love carnival rides, don't you Y/n?"

Your heart was speeding up. That was terrifying - you hated the idea of any of that.

"Who says I don't like my sleep either, Jouno?"

"I'd like to go! C'mon, it'd be fun! We can go on rides, maybe we'll even arrest someone!"

Tachihara was being so positive tonight. It was almost suspicious. It was tempting to say yes just because of his attitude alone, but there was that funny feeling in your stomach at the thought of it.

"But what if the ride breaks down and we all get crushed or fall out and die?"

You were simply being realistic.

"I'm a hunting dog, Y/n. I can handle something like that easily. Plus, if that happened Jouno would be there, right?"

"I'm not a chaperone for your little kiddie date. You can handle things by yourselves, the worst is just you guys getting scammed."

Finally, you'd stopped to drop off Jouno. He could've walked this distance, although maybe he had something to gain from the ride. Like your food, which was now all gone.

All you had left was an empty bag, the absolute prick that he was. He also left you a cold back, since you were squished between him and Tachihara during the duration of your ride. From his smirk, as he was walking away, waving goodbye to the two of you, he knew how agitated he had left you.

It made you pull yourself closer to Tachihara, trying to steal his body warmth in order to recoup what had been lost. Tachihara coughed, adjusting himself so the two of you could have more space on the bike.

"So? Let's go to the carnival."

It was a way to break the silence the two of you had fallen into. He said it was a confident smile, as if he practiced this in the mirror twenty times before. You simply nodded, not knowing how to reply.

He revved up the bike, heading in its direction. You didn't know what to say to get out of this, since a part of you did want to go.

It'd be like a fun date, even if you couldn't say that out loud.

"I'm scared of rollercoasters."

You told him honestly. You hoped he wouldn't judge you, seeing as he was a very earnest man.

"I figured. Don't worry, we'll conquer your fear tonight. Exposure therapy does wonders, and plus? I'll be there the entire time, so it's not like you'll be alone."

You said nothing, just holding his waist firmly. This seemed like a better idea than what you had originally planned for tonight, so why not? You could trust Tachihara.

He stopped the bike, in some lot a little walk away from the carnival. You could hear the pop music and screams coming from the place.

Turning towards you, he gave you a warm smile.

"If anything does happen, I'll be sure to protect you, ok?"

You handed him the helmet, giving him a smile. You did appreciate the gesture, as much as it was well-intentioned. That didn't stop you from not wanting to rip your own teeth out of your mouth as you got off the bike and forced yourself the walk towards the carnival, and not away.

"How expensive are these places anyway? I don't actually know if I have my wallet on me."

"Oh don't worry, we aren't paying."

Oh?

Tachihara turned towards you, a strange look on his face. One you would associate with Teruko or Jouno - a grin that typically held ill intentions.

Mischief.

What was this man dragging you into?

Well, turns out - dubiously legal activities.

Being a hunting dog had its perks. For one thing, his government ID assured him discounts everywhere he went. It was great when he went grocery shopping - you would know, you abused Fukuchi's credit card as a perk of your job.

Although telling the ticketing staff that he was 'inspecting' the rides, and would arrest anyone who didn't comply with his orders, hardly counted as getting a 'free' discount.

You were now forced to play along with this. You didn't even know Tachihara had such a cruel side to him, bullying a bunch of carnival workers who just wanted to get a paycheck by making fun of teenagers and out-of-touch men in their 40s.

It was a hard job to have, obviously.

The staff stalked the two of you as you walked in, giving you goosebumps. It didn't help that the two of you were still in your work clothes, really selling the 'government inspection' that the two of you were giving.

Although by the end of the night, you were expecting your clothing to probably need a good dry cleaning.

The fair wasn't bad - but you could smell vomit near some of the rides, and they looked suspiciously rusty. Clearly, this place was in tip-top shape. You just had to convince yourself that the Ferris wheel wasn't making suspicious creaking sounds every time it started up again.

You clearly were just a bit paranoid.

"So what should we ride first? I'm thinking we start small and then build our way up."

Tachihara had his hands on his hips, looking around for the best ride to start. He was being nice at least, giving you the illusion of choice now that you've gotten this far.

You were stuck. It didn't matter what you did, you were the idiot that agreed.

"I'm ok with that. I don't think the hand gliders look that bad, they seem pretty tame."

It also featured a seatbelt. And a big, nice, safety bar.

The best part? It was a two-seated ride. So if something happened on that ride, you knew that Tachihara would be there with you.

Tachihara smiled, as clearly, this would be a good night for him.

-

The night was going about as great as you expected it to. Although, you could even say a little better, even.

If this were a date, you might have kissed Tachihara by the end of it. You sure as hell owed him something at the very least, as he had now been your human cushion on several rides, preventing you from being crushed against the greasy metal as they began.

It was a good thing he was a hunting dog. Your body weight against his was nothing to him, although he still felt like complaining once and a while about how much pain you put his ribs in.

As if you were the one with the bright idea to go here.

If he died because you crushed him to death, it was entirely his fault and his fault alone.

"You know what we need to do?"

You watched as he pointed at the ferris wheel - one that loomed over the carnival, due to it's sheer height. Seriously, how tall was that thing?

"I mean...yeah."

There were no arguments against him here. You've gone on every other ride already - you've even ridden the carousel 3 times. Tachihara used the excuse that you were 'inspecting the ride' for imperfections.

You were starting to think he was serious at some point, when he spent 5 minutes grilling a poor fair worker about the importance of safety and on how rusty their bolts were.

There was no time to dwell on that though - Tachihara was smiling as he dragged you to the last stop at the carnival of doom.

"I heard some kid saying that from the top they could see the entire city. That sounds pretty cool, doesn't it?"

He was smiling ear to ear.

You couldn't deny that offer when he looked like that.

So with your head in your heart, you let yourself be dragged through the motions, letting it drop to your stomach as you watched the city fall below you as your body raised to the sky.

You tried to stay at ease even as you were slowly raised higher and higher into the sky, the cart you were sat in shaking back and forth more than you were comfortable with.

It made you scoot closer to Tachihara, squeezing him as if he were your lifeline. He might as well be, since his body would survive a fall at this height while yours would splatter.

"Look! You can see headquarters over there."

He was pointing outward, towards a rather dark spot of the city. But it was visible, which to you felt amazing.

Also terrifying.

You clutched his arm tighter. As insurance.

He was also incredibly warm - it was cold so high up, and unfortunately, your work uniform did not account for this. You were practically trying to melt into him due to how cold you were, but you still had some pride left. You would suffer a little, having your exposed skin go numb from the cold.

"Hey, Y/n. I wanna tell you something."

"Are you going to kiss me?"

It was the perfect moment for it, really. You couldn't blame him. Everything was screaming that this was a "how I met your mother" moment anyway.

"What? Sorry. Um. No. Just-"

Tachihara looked at you, red in the face. He pushed you into his chest, holding you tight. If you squeaked, that was between you, him and the ferris wheel.

"I think I like you."

You blinked. Your hands were awkwardly held up around Tachihara, not knowing where to go. You could feel him awkwardly fidgeting with the fabric on your shoulders in your silence, as you tried to figure out a way to respond.

The ferris wheel creaked in the silence, keeping the two of you alone up top, watching the city.

"Um. I like you too, Tachihara."

You put your hands on his waist, feeling just below his ribcage. He was skinny for a guy, but you could still feel his strength.

"But how much?"

"How much?"

"How much do you like me?"

You huffed, gripping his uniform shirt and pulling him away. His eyes were almost wet with worry as he looked at you, trying to discern what you meant by your words. Fucking idiot.

"Enough to deal with this. And enough to want to kiss you."

You cupped his cheeks with your hands, looking him dead in his honey eyes. His gaze was dead set, looking right at you, not even at the city that was behind you.

"Kiss me. I'm not asking again."

You closed your eyes and waited until you felt his cold lips press against yours, finally obliging your order. It was all enough to distract you from how your stomach dropped at the thought of being so high up in the air, as now your stomach was dropping at his hands reaching down to touch your waist, his knees knocking against yours as he tried to pull you closer.

[pocketramblr]

hey here's a more positive au suggestion for the five ask game: what if erasure auto killed nomus? Because their only kept going because of their quirk factors (and erasure sort of turns that off whoops)

I'm so mad I got 4/5 hc written and Tumblr deleted it. Ok let's do this one more time.

1- note: important for this to work, Aizawa does not initially erase Kurogiri at the start of USJ, but we'll get to that. After taking out all the other villains on the plaza, Aizawa erases the nomu. Shigaraki laughs because it won't work, and orders nomu to kill. The nomu doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. No brain activity, it couldn't hear the orders. Aizawa knocks it over, and it stays still. Dead.

2- both Shigaraki and Aizawa are baffled - the later more so when he blinks, and the nomu shudders back to life, reset. In the process of making it, it died many times. Shigaraki, relieved, orders it to attack again... It doesn't. Shigaraki isn't in the most basic set of orders, it would need to be reprogrammed to listen to him. Aizawa erases it again just to be safe. Shigaraki gets mad and goes to attack the students in the lake, so Aizawa blinks and erases him again instead. He grabs onto Tsuyu and can't decay. Izuku attacks- and OFA is in the base code. The nomu moves, and grabs him. Shigaraki takes this as a sign the nomu reset and tries new orders. It doesn't work. Tsuyu and Mineta back away carefully at Izuku's nod. Shigaraki tries to shake the nomu, or get Izuku from it's grip. Nothing works. The whole time he complains about how hard it was to have nomu made.

3- Aizawa blinks and reactivates erasure, tugging Izuku away with the scarf as soon as the nomu's grip loosens. Both of them put together the pieces from Shigaraki's ranting - or at least, figure out this was a science experiment made from at least one corpse.

"Aizawa-sensei, I think... You'd need to stop it all the way while erasure's down, so it can't... Come back to life." Izuku whispers.

"I know, shh. Run as soon as you can and don't break anything."

4- Aizawa only has a pocket knife with him, he doesn't bring the patrol blade with him to UA- a mistake he won't make again. He isn't sure if he could take the nomu down with it anyway. Shigaraki has had enough, and yells for Kurogiri, ordering him to drop Eraser and the brat from somewhere too high to survive. Aizawa erases him- and Kurogiri collapses.

"You're a nomu too??" Shigaraki had no clue. But he also realizes that his exit is gone- for a few more seconds, until Aizawa blinks again. When he does, Shigaraki doesn't waste time on anything else - he jumps down to him and gives the oldest emergency order he knows, from the first time he was given Kurogiri. "The demon lord orders bring all for one!"

They vanish into a warpgate.

5- Izuku is stunned. Aizawa is also stunned, but moves first- grabbing the nomu and moving it, then restraining. He orders Izuku to rejoin his classmates upstairs, as the door should be free now to go through. Izuku finds Thirteen fallen and moves to help, and that's where All Might finds them. Izuku gets up first to warm him about nomu- the absorption, handling OfA, being made of corpses, and the weird thing Shigaraki said before they vanished. All Might frowns more, and moves everyone outside - everyone, he grabs all the other students from the different sections quickly, then goes to meet Aizawa, who erased nomu and cut it's finger, finding no flow or blood pressure before he blinked and it healed. All Might nods, and takes the knife while Aizawa begins restraining the other villains, refusing to wait a bit for the rest of backup.

In the bar, Shigaraki is complaining loudly about how they sent him somewhere a single hero could oneshot his two most important party members and it wasn't even All Might (it was pretty cool though). Ujiko is complaining loudly about how long it's going to take to reprogram Kurogiri, compared to the lower cost of making standard nomu. AfO is complaining loudly about how Kurogiri's quirk is too useful to be compared to boring standard nomu and how someone needs to kill Eraser yesterday. (They tried. It didn't work then and won't now. Instead they'll just have to be very careful about not bringing any nomu around where he could be.)

[tgrailwar]

Tumblr Holy Grail War, Another End: Night 2 (MASTERS FROM BEYOND/Team Avenger)

Everything felt cold.

The maddening colors and sounds from Foreigner's assault stopped... but so did the sensation of your Servants mana.

They were gone.

The silence permeated for a while longer, before a voice cut through.

???: "Hey. Heeeey. Maaaasters. You alive?"

Two silhouettes, both familiar, stare down at you.

'Masculine Shadow': "Welp. They're dead. I guess Foreigner will grab the Grail instead."

'Feminine Shadow': "No, they're looking at us. Give them another moment..."

Avenger(?): "There you are. Don't freak. This is a… safe zone, from Foreigner. She really did a number on the system."

Ruler(?): "Um… hello. It's been a while."

Avenger(?): "Yo, Masters. Despite the new look, it's still me-- and this is 'Ruler', but also kind of not."

Ruler(?): "I'm just a backup that I made in case the gambling mini-game went wrong, but it seemed like a lot more went wrong instead… maybe one hundred three trillion, seventy-three billion, nine hundred fifty-nine million, nine hundred eighty-nine thousand, four hundred and ninety-five Grail Wars was my limit… I'm sorry Masters, I really biffed this. And now my main body has pushed this war to the limit."

Avenger(?): "Technically, one hundred three trillion, seventy-three billion, nine hundred fifty-nine million, nine hundred eighty-nine thousand, four hundred and ninety-four- considering the Archer debacle. But the Grail is full. Again. Since we're so close to the end. Maybe you should introduce yourself. For real this time."

'Ruler': "…Right. I'm not a Servant… not properly, at least. I'm one of the Overseer's two THGW Terminals, modeled off the Einzbern homunculi, the vessel for the 'Lesser Grail'. I guess you guys can keep calling me 'Ruler'… I've gotten used to it. I'm happy to see you all again... and I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused-- the trouble I am causing. RULER is still out there, after all."

'Avenger': "Same here. I'm the other terminal, modeled off 'All The World's Evils'- or the 'Corrupted Grail'- as a countermeasure to our 'Ruler' here. I'm as close to a recreation of the thing as a digital Grail War can get, so I'm fine if you keep calling me 'Avenger'. Nice to meet you. Again."

'Ruler': "Right now, 'I'... the current version of 'myself' that's still acting as the Adjudicator of the Holy Grail War, is currently on a bit of a rampage, and Foreigner is too. Best case, some of you will need to keep her busy, and the rest of you have to destroy the Simulacrum Greater Grail… the Overseer's main terminal, and the source of Avenger and I's data."

'Avenger': "Y'know, you really screwed things up, 'Ruler'. That's what you get for trying to suddenly take on a whole Servant's duties. Then again, I cheated my way into being a Servant too, so I can't really talk. Still... I would have wanted to avoid killing Foreigner, but it seems inevitable. But she'll make the data unsalvageable..."

'Ruler': "I know, I know... but we have work to do. Masters. Just know that destroying the Grail... that'll end all of this. Completely. The absolute end of this Simulated Holy Grail War."

'Ruler': "I've been a bad Ruler, I'm really not cut out for this job… But even as some pathetic backup data, I still have some authority. You have 5 Command Spells left, right? I think that can get you..."

'Avenger': "Hang on. I've still got all three of mine thanks to my Masters. Can you toss that in, too? Verg Avesta and Unlimited Raise Dead are kind of useless at this point."

'Ruler': "Eight Command Spells... I can really do something with that. I'm in charge of developing Spirit Origins for this Grail War after all."

'Avenger': "Hehehe. Told you there was a plan."

'Ruler': "Rider... I can't salvage his data. I'm so sorry... Still, I can salvage the others. Maybe with their memories intact... we'll have to see."

Avenger: "I'm followin' you. So whichever option is in 1st place generates those two Servants at full power with 3 Command Spells, 2nd place does the same, and then 3rd place summons a pair with reduced power. That way we can split ourselves up. Two groups of Servants go to help me fight Foreigner, and the last group goes to destroy the Grail."

Ruler: "Exactly! So, please choose wisely. This will be your final fight as Masters of this Grail War. So survive. Please. I'll be happy to answer any questions you need. My job is to help, after all!"

'Ruler' is using her authority to bring back Servants at the cost of Command Spells!

The results in 1st and 2nd place (costing 3 Command Spells each) will go to confront Foreigner alongside Avenger!

While 3rd place (costing 2 Command Spells) will accompany Ruler to destroy the Greater Grail!

Avenger's skills have changed!

Servant Skills:

'ANGRA MAINYU' (AVENGER / TGHW GRAIL TERMINAL α)

Zarich: Right Fang Grinder (C) - Reduce enemy Servant boosts by -5%.

Tawrich: Left Fang Grinder (C) - Gain a +5% attack boost.

Annihilation Wish (A) - When fully healed, gain a -20% demerit to his final score. With one wound, the demerit is reduced to -10%. With two wounds, the demerit is changed to a +20% boost.

Grail Simulacrum, All The World's Evils (EX) - When part of a battle that results in a Servant dying, absorb a part of their essence. Take a random one of their combat skills for Avenger's own use and recover one Command Spell. When victorious, inflict wounds equal to the amount of Servants consumed.

[Grail Simulacrum, SABER] Heavenly Demonic Thundering Eye (EX) - When fighting in a free-for-all, gain +10% to your final score, and reduce their scores by -5%. If fighting a Servant one-on-one, if the gap between scores is above 20%, inflict 2 wounds.

[Grail Simulacrum, RIDER] Armor of the Nine Worthies (A) - When attacked, reduces the amount of the Servant's final combat poll result by 10%.

[Grail Simulacrum, ASSASSIN] Man-Slayer (A) - When fighting a Servant that possesses a wound, gain a +3% boost. When fighting a Servant that possesses 2 wounds, gain +5% instead.

[Grail Simulacrum, LANCER] Rune Magecraft (B) - When fighting in a free-for-all, gain a +5% to combat score results. Additionally, any skills that reduce scores against Avenger will have their effectiveness reduced by 1%.

[Grail Simulacrum, ARCHER] Hero of the Endowed (A) - If fighting an enemy Servant, and the difference between scores is within 3%, take the win.

Avenger has 2 wounds! He has a +20% boost!

[picklefics]

Benefits of Camping, or How to (not) Hunt Bigfoot With Your Parents

This was originally posted on Ao3, but I decided I'd see what posting on Tumblr was like for fanfiction :) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47138986/chapters/118767895)

I already have chapters 1-5, just not gonna put em all up right now as I'm at a coffee shop and need to work on heading home.

Summary:

It could've been a great vacation. Probably. Except there's one tiny issue: Danny's parents have decided to take a break from hunting ghosts, instead supporting their fellow cryptobiologists in hunting Bigfoot. The big problem? They do find Bigfoot. And Bigfoot can talk. (...and has a PhD?)

Chapter 1: Benefit 1-New Cooking Skills

Danny’s folks are usually ghost hunters, but that doesn’t mean they don’t branch out. After all, they’d spent almost 20 years of their life studying a science practically everyone thought of as a paper house in a rainstorm. Surely one of those droplets of evidence would disprove the science as a whole.

Really? Entire beings made of one substance? Supernatural entities?

Absurd .

Maddie and Jack have a great deal of sympathy for cryptobiologists. They also have a tendency to suspect that ghosts are involved every time someone spots Bigfoot or some other being. But really, they’d be happy with either the discovery of a ghost or a new animal to dissect.

Danny, on the other hand, is not in love with either of those two discovery options. He is having a great deal of fun tormenting Jazz, who’d been forced to come along on a trip to the red cedar forests of California. He’d tried to bribe Sam and Tucker into coming along. Sam, with the lure of a new animal (maybe) to check out, and Tucker with peer pressure and lots of grilled meat. Unfortunately, after the reality check that was another fight with a new ghost named Fortuna (self-proclaimed follower of Fortuna, Goddess of Fortune and Misfortune, and with luck-related powers), they’d been forced to concede that having people at home who could fight ghosts was too important to have all three of them on a camping trip.

Thank fuck that Val wasn’t in school right now and that she’d gotten less extreme about ghosts since meeting Danielle. One day Danny might even consider telling her about him, if she doesn’t figure it out first. As a result, there are three competent ghost hunters in Amity Park who don’t actively hate ghosts while Danny is on vacation.

At any rate, Danny is trapped with a bunch of adults who are way too enthusiastic about hunting down rare animals and (in at least one case) killing and taxidermy-ing them. The guy in question keeps tracking new hunters down and showing off pictures of his living room and business, covered in eerie deer, bear, and alligator heads, among other things. There’s even a snake wrapped around a driftwood piece on the table. It reminds Danny of Skulker, and makes him consider yet again whether ghosts might be more likely to form out of these kinds of people. He’s pretty sure his parents were obsessive before they started regularly working with ectoplasm, and after?

They grew much more extreme.

And who knows? It could be due to exposure to ectoplasm, or maybe the obsessiveness causes ectoplasm to accumulate near them. He’s heard theories going both ways.

This guy, Danny could easily imagine dying and becoming a ghost.

At least he helps with setup. The camp takes a while to go up, yellow and beige tents popping up like gophers among the trees. His parents’ tent is a green dome, one of a few splashes of color in the group. Another guy sets up a big grill and a solar panel in a little clearing, one of the few places with sunlight. His incredibly buff partner totes a bag of backup coal to the grill like Mom would carry a sack of flour.

All around the area, people bring up folding chairs and situate equipment. In a big, waterproof, black container, they all put their tech away. The container is anchored with thick ropes to be absolutely certain that nothing can drag it away. It’s flash-flooding season in the area and there’s a river nearby, so they’re concerned that the container could float away, but they had wanted to make the equipment available to everyone, so they aren’t keeping it in anyone’s vehicle. 

A cage goes up towards the far west corner of the camp, away from the fire pit, because they’re worried anything they capture might be unduly frightened by said fire.

With that, a few people sign up in rotation to monitor the grill, planning to bake some potatoes and apples in the fire pit and grill weenies. It’ll be about three hours before supper, but the planning, and a snack, are needed. As the only kids present (apparently many of the others’ kids are nonexistent or at summer camps), Danny and Jazz are put on apple coring and potato poking duty involuntarily. 

Matthew Kapp is their instructor. He practically drags them to the fire pit and tells them how to make the food like he thinks they have infinite memory space for commands, no matter how long the list is.

He explains that potatoes explode when in the ashes without holes, then shows them the basic steps to prepare the food. Essentially, they’re supposed to stab the potatoes with a fork “until it feels right”, wrap them in tin foil, and then yeet them into the fire. Then they have to be surrounded by the ashes and dug out later. Jazz and Danny both work on this, quietly chattering.

Danny grins and with particular emphasis stabs a potato old enough to have green sprouts studded all over its surface. He has to use his right thumb to put enough pressure on the sides of the sprouts that they fall off. He jokes, “If I were Skulker and this potato was me, I’d be so happy right now…”

Jazz raises her eyebrows at him. “Sometimes I worry about the normalization of violence you’ve experienced, Danny.”

Danny is like 90% sure she’s saying that mostly to get on his nerves, but he’s not 100% sure. Ah, the delights of a sister who adores psychology and tormenting her little brother. He rolls his eyes. “Literally everybody in town probably has that. The school has at least one attack every week.”

Jazz retorts, “That’s really not normal.”

“Well it’s normal for me.” 

At that, Jazz changes topics. “Did you remember to bring our tent?”

Danny gives her a thumbs up.

“Great. We don’t have to listen to their snoring!” She cheers. Granted part of the reason they have the tent is because of Danny’s nightmares and occasional power use. Particularly, he’s prone to leaping out of bed and turning intangible the second he gets startled awake because of the sheer number of times ghosts have woken him up.

“Thanks for suggesting it,” Danny offers. Then he adds, “Stabbing the potatoes until it feels right is so…imprecise. How do we know when it feels right?”

Jazz groans sympathetically. “I know, right? I get it for people who’ve baked campfire potatoes before, but we’ve never done this. Mr. Kapp is a scientist, isn’t he supposed to know to be exact for beginners?”

Danny tosses his potato back and forth. “This potato better be good. It’s very hole-y now.” He sets it in the metal bowl to his right and adds, “It’s starting a cult.”

Jazz raises her eyebrows at him. “...why?”

“Holy? Y’know, like saints or whatever?”

Jazz snorts and grabs the tin foil roll. She starts unwrapping it to the familiar crumbly crackle of ripping metal, tearing off pieces big enough for each of the potatoes they’ve prepared. Danny snitches some of the squares and starts wrapping them around each potato as fast as he can. For this part, they don’t talk. The aluminum is too loud anyways. It covers speech pretty well.

After all 14 potatoes are wrapped, they toss them into the fire. Sparks flash into the sky and drift away, and one of the logs collapses into the pit with a soft thud. The white ashes have increased in number, but there aren’t many yet, so they wait to bury the potatoes in the ashes. While they wait, they move on to the apples.

Danny mixes the cinnamon and other spices together and Jazz cores the apples while grumbling about how hard it will be to work on her paper out here. She brought paper so she could handwrite some of it, but out here there isn’t any internet so the most she can do is type on her phone. She isn’t doing that because she’s worried about running out of power and not being able to call if there’s an emergency.

They both stuff the apples with the mixture and then wrap them and toss them in the fire in the same way as the potatoes but to the side. About 15 minutes later, they use sticks to roll the apples out of the fire. The potatoes are saved for later since it will be a few hours before they’re done, while the apples are served as a snack/dessert immediately. 

Having had a long drive and therefore possessing a strong craving for sweets (or any sort of snackage really), everyone swarms the apple pile and as a result only gets one each. Danny plots to sneak another apple into the fire later so he can have seconds, and Jazz wholly supports him. He forgets to eat, and she has to remind him far more often than she’d like.

After the apples are all eaten, some of the people sit down to rest (those who weren’t already asleep) and some of the others begin prowling the area, including Taxidermy Guy (Oscar Polson) and his wife Paloma.

When the two of them come back, they have a map of the area filled with markings denoting where they want to put various kinds of traps. The Polsons are the experts on trap-setting and location, and they’re responsible for deciding which places to put the traps each person brought. With the locations for each trap decided, everyone fixes the last few supper items and sits down for supper as the sun sets, mostly because there’s not enough time to set up the traps that evening.

Next Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/picklefics/730299785376104448/boc-chapter-2?source=share

[goosethepumpkin]

Mine. Only Mine.

this was requested by: @screamqueen10 (here is the tumblr version!!) in all honesty i have never written possessive before soo but anyways here it is!! (its like 3k words omg)

Tara Carpenter was the sweetest person ever, you could hurt her then apologise and she’d brush it off and completely forgive you. Her friends say it’s a pretty bad trait to have because what if you get exploited but that never worried her.

She was friends with THE Chad Meeks-Martin, certified jock (and idiot) and also the captain of the football team. Safe to say she was in great hands, she even had Wes who had at least tried to be on the football team but got put on the benches as backup instead, better than nothing right?

Tara also had her bestie Mindy Meeks-Martin who undoubtedly was the biggest film nerd ever but so was her uncle Randy so it might just run in the family. But this news was the biggest test for them all, they were getting a new student.

One to be rumoured to have ‘killed a kid because he was being obnoxiously loud and it was ruining my alone time.’ stabbed a kid because ‘he was in my personal space.’ And also broke another kids arm because ‘she wouldn’t move it, so I moved it for her.’

This was all very shocking news to the friend group because why on earth was Woodsboro High taking a criminal into the school? But the principal wouldn’t say anything so everyone just had to deal with it.

“I can’t believe the principal let a fucking killer into our school?” Chad groaned as he and Tara walked to their lockers.

“I know but maybe she’s changed? Those offences and charges could have been a very long time ago.” Tara replied, desperately trying to find the good in this new student.

“Tara, you’ve got to stop being so bright. Some people are going to be bad, when she inevitably comes please, do not make friends with her.” Chad pleaded with Tara looking at her straight into her eyes.

Tara rolled her eyes as she opened her locker and put her stuff back and got her bag so she could go home. As she started walking home, she noticed some lights in a house that hadn’t been used in a very long time.

“Huh, guess that’s where the new student lives.” Tara whispered to herself as she walked past the mansion.

——————

It was the next day, or otherwise known as the day where the potentially a murderer student was being introduced. As everyone sat down in their seats, desperately hoping that their class wouldn’t have the new student in it, one of the classes had the new student walk in.

And that class happened to be Chad and Tara’s class, this immediately freaked Chad out.

“Everyone, I’d like for all of you to give a warm welcome to Amber Freeman!” Their teacher announced as a girl with luscious long black hair and a leather jacket walked into the room.

She said no words and immediately sat down the nearest to the back as she could, which was filled up until everyone scattered. She then pulled out a cigarette and lit it before blatantly ignoring what everyone was saying to her. She didn’t give a fuck.

After a few minutes the teacher gave up on trying to get Amber to listen so she just continued her lesson, hoping that the smoke wouldn’t make the alarm go off. Surprising it didn’t and everyone was soon dismissed for lunch.

“So, is the new girl in any of y’all classes?” Mindy whispered to the group as she bent in.

“Nope.” Wes replied idly crunching on his salad that his mum homemade for him, just like every other day. He always got home cooked meals and never cafeteria food.

“Heh, yeah about that. She umm is in our class?” Chad said sheepishly as Mindy eyed him.

“Well she doesn’t seem too bad, only a person who doesn’t give a f and smokes a lot. No injuries yet!” Tara laughed trying to lighten the tense moment.

But as she was looking around, she spotted Amber sitting alone outside through a window looking a little bit sad. And immediately Tara’s heart sank and she stood up and went in Amber’s direction. Her friends being a little too caught up in a heated argument to notice her absence.

“Hey.” Tara smiled at Amber as Amber took her headphones off. Amber was unsure of this person but it’s better to get to know them before chopping off their limbs right?

“Hi.” Amber replied back, putting on her most convincing smile she could.

“My names Tara, Tara Carpenter and I like your jacket is it your favourite?” Tara smiled once again before sitting next to Amber.

“Well Tara Tara Carpenter, my name is Amber Amber Freeman and yes it is, the first thing I purchased after someone gave me money begging me not to kill them.” Amber snickered both at the name thing and at the memory of that tiny rich brat boy begging in his knees.

Tara froze for a second before reassuring herself that Amber had probably changed and so far her sense of humour was amazing, just like Tara’s. So, the two of them kept talking throughout the break both exchanging subtle jokes and laughing about it.

Amber was ecstatic about her new friend and frankly, she couldn’t get enough of her. They had exchanged phone numbers and kept texting everyday through morning till night. No one had ever given Amber a second chance before and she kept thinking of how lucky she was to be friends with Tara because she really was the sweetest person in the world, it was like the world didn’t deserve her. Or it was like no one deserved her, and she was to be hers only. She wanted Tara.

But Amber shut those thoughts away quickly, she and Tara still hadn’t talked enough and maybe this was all a fluke? But what if it wasn’t? And before long Amber would soon know that it wasn’t a fluke or a lie. Tara was genuinely a good person and kept forgiving Amber even when she told Tara the stories of what she did to a little boy because he was being messy and getting the whole place covered with germs, so she had to stop him some how.

Sooner or later, the two of them began dating, much to Tara’s friend groups dismay. But to Tara it was like a whole new world. The two of them started sharing little kisses in between classes and always met up at Amber’s house after school. It was like a fairytale, but fairytales don’t always end well.

It started off small but Amber soon started to follow Tara around everywhere, like a big bodyguard with her 5’6 height and her toned muscles and Abs showing that she went to the gym a lot. But anytime Tara would receive a compliment that sounded like a flirt Amber would death glare that person.

Tara hadn’t noticed, she just thought it was cute that Amber followed her everywhere and plus she could kiss Amber whenever she wanted. The two of them were inseparable and were constantly holding hands like a cute couple. Totally not because Amber never wanted to let Tara go.

But one day when Tara’s friends invited Tara over for a sleepover and not Amber as well, Amber got irritated and stared hard at Mindy who had organised the whole thing. Mindy thought it was very intimidating but she was Tara’s friend so Amber wouldn’t hurt her, right?

Well she didn’t, but instead Tara didn’t go to the sleepover insisting that Amber really didn’t want her to go and even pulled the puppy eyes and she couldn’t say no to Amber. Her friends were not very happy that they were ditched for a criminal, but every time they bring that subject up little Tara always says that she’s changed. And then Amber smirks.

Eventually Tara stopped hanging out with her friends, she was only hanging out with Amber and the two of them were having a hell of a lot of fun together. But after a few weeks Tara missed her friends and approached them one day when Amber was being held back in class because the English teacher was fed up with her low participation and grades rate.

But as soon as she started to open her mouth to say ‘hi’, Amber appeared out of no where with suddenly a bit of darker shade in her eyes and an expression that practically spelt out ‘stay away’. And then she dragged Tara away from her friends but not before muttering a few words.

“Stay away from her.” Amber growled as a slight hint of feral energy showed.

Tara was confused and pleaded with Amber that she wanted to go see her friends but Amber didn’t allow her and instead smashed her lips against Tara’s declaring that she was hers. And only hers.

And it didn’t get better from there, every time someone liked one of Tara’s posts on instagram, whoever had liked it immediately unliked it and soon after avoided Tara as if she had the bubonic plague or something. And she had no idea why.

Every time she approached someone they’d run away and scream, Tara was 5’1. But she did manage to find Wes alone. So, the two of them started talking again for the break while Amber was no where to be seen and Tara was thankful for that. Amber had been getting a little in her nerves lately and she didn’t know how to feel about that.

After Wes and Tara had their long overdue friend conversation, Amber had found Tara once again and after glancing in Wes’s direction, her eyes darkened. Amber knew her Tara had been speaking to someone else. And that was unacceptable.

The next day Wes Hicks was found dead in the boys bathroom. Everyone was mortified at the sight of Wes, or well the remaining parts of Wes. Especially because most of his body parts fell off during the transportation outside of the bathroom.

He was sliced up with his head being the most damaged. And his arms and feet being cut off into tiny pieces, as if his killer had a lot of fun stabbing and chopping him up. Tara and the rest of her friends were so shocked and Tara quickly ran to her friends for comfort as Amber wasn’t there for some reason.

She had found this person on Tara’s socials, Frankie was it? He was liking for too many of Tara’s posts to be ‘a normal person’ so there was only one solution to this pest problem. Get rid of him, he was being too obsessed with Tara. And Tara was hers and only hers.

Frankie was found dead in his apartment complex several days after, as he was living by himself with no one to care for him so it took a little while longer. Tara was a bit confused because there was this guy called Frankie who had liked a bunch of her posts?

She was starting to freak out a little bit, was the love of her life killing people? No that couldn’t possibly be it. While in her slight dilemma, Amber had crawled through the window and kissed Tara on the neck.

“Hey babe how you doing?” Amber smiled radiantly as she pecked Tara on the cheek.

“I’m doing great Amber.” Tara replied back sheepishly not wanting to make eye contact.

“If you’re wondering about the deaths, they weren’t me don’t worry. But either way good for them, they were getting a little too close to you, don’t you think? You’re mine.” Amber smiled maniacally as the lie of the deaths slipped right off her tongue. And the way she said ‘You’re mine’ had an interesting touch of some beastly nature but Tara couldn’t pick it up.

Not when Amber was kissing Tara so adoringly. And the two of them were not heard from the rest of the night.

——————

“Is anyone else concerned for Tara?” Chad asked worriedly and quickly.

“Yeah boy, it’s not a fucking coincidence that little boy Wesley got fucking killed because I know what I saw. He was talking to sweet angel Tara and I bet it’s all that bitch’s fault.” Mindy groaned in anger as she mourned the loss of her dear friend.

“Also why’d you say anyone else, it’s just me and you bro.” Mindy chuckled.

“Well force of habit, I’m not used to Wessy not being here okay?” Chad grabbed his head in frustration. Mindy looked at Chad in confusion because who the fuck calls Wes ‘Wessy’ but decided to ignore it for now.

“Oh and Mindy? Liv said she was going to check in on Tara.” Chad said as he flopped onto his bed.

“WHAT THE FUCK? Tell her no right now Chad!! CHAD??” Mindy yelled frantically as she reached for his phone.

“What? We need someone to check on Tara and hell no Ami risking me or you to check in on her. Liv said she’d do it so she’s gonna do it.” Chad replied after snatching his phone back.

“She’s your fucking girlfriend??” Mindy looked at Chad in shock.

“Well yeah but you’re my sister?” He replied like it was obvious, but in reality Mindy would give up Chad for her girlfriend, if she had one.

That same day, Liv McKenzie was found dead on the pavement of the Carpenter household, Tara knew exactly what happened. Liv had entered the house wanting to see Tara and check in on her. Christina Carpenter was of course absent and no where to be found so Amber had actually answered the door

And as soon as Tara had come down the stairs, she saw her girlfriend and a dead Liv McKenzie at the front door. She was immediately freaked out and ran to her room. She couldn’t believe it, Amber had killed somebody, fuck she probably killed Wes and Frankie too.

As Tara held herself together she listened as Ambers heavy combat boots hit the ground until they came to a halt.

“I’m sorry babe please just listen to me.” Amber begged.

“Go the fuck away Amber. I trusted you, I thought you had changed.” Tara cried as she shed tears.

“Tara you don’t understand! These fuckers were trying to steal you away from me! Steal our time together! Everything! I love you Tara. And you are mine and I am not going to let these motherfuckers steal our time together. Please let me back in, I love you Tara.” Amber pleaded as she stood against the door.

Tara couldn’t believe what she just heard, spending time with someone counted as stealing? So, everyone she hung out with was in danger which she did not want. This revelation had practically ruined her life. All she wanted was to be a good girl, a perfect girl. She had her friend group and she even had a lover but not everything could be perfect.

As the next few days came by, Tara tried her hardest to avoid Amber but it didn’t work. Every corner Amber was lurking, no matter where Tara was Amber was there as well. In all honesty, Tara didn’t like it because not only was every move of hers was being monitored she knew that as soon as she came into contact with somebody, she would’ve just signed their death contract.

And that was further proved when she approached Gina, a harmless girl who was involved with dance. It was a stupid moment where Tara liked Gina’s outfit and decided to compliment her and before she knew it, Gina was dead in the floor with a very irritated Amber on top.

“She is mine, ONLY MINE!” Amber growled as she stabbed Gina over and over again before Amber stared at Tara.

“Amber you have to stop.” Tara demanded as she shakily stared at Amber in the eyes.

“I can’t. You are mine. I love you. And nothing will keep us apart.” Amber stated as her eyes grew an even darker shade of black and started slitting.

Tara noticed it and got overwhelmed and ran off into the distance before checking behind her to make sure Amber wasn’t following. Of course Amber following her, so Tara kept running. She didn’t care where the fuck she ended up at she just needed to make sure Amber couldn’t see her phone.

-top 4!!-

goblino shortino: HELP GUYS WE NEED TO KILL AMBER.

film geek: one step ahead of ya girl SHIT WONT SHE SEE THIS??

goblino shortino: no I’m running rn autocorrects saving ducking lives rn

film geek: ok gal wut da plan??

goblino shortino : just fucking kill her?. Idk FUCKK

film geek: TARA?? OH SHKIDHYHS

———

“Uh hi Amber!” Chad nervously said as he backed up into a corner, after just witnessing his sister’s death.

“Hi. Chad was it?” Amber giggled as she spun her knife around her finger.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna kill me are you?” He asked whilst staring at the knife she was spinning.

“Oh no, your sister was texting my girl so she had to be removed. Because you all do know she is mine right? And none of you are allowed to touch, talk, or even text what is mine. Especially Tara, she is just the sweetest girl, and she’s mine.” Amber growled deeply as her eyes yet again had somehow turned even darker, just bordering of pitch black.

“Oh yep yep yep! I understand Amber. No texting or talking or interacting with your girl ok got it!” Chad put on a fake smile as he signalled a thumbs up towards Amber. In which she smiled like a maniac back to. Her eyes being fully pitch black now, matching her leather jacket and her pants which had too many pockets.

As the two of them kept talking, about the do’s and do nots of interaction, Chad soon noticed something. Tara had snuck into his house and was currently holding a gun, he had no idea where the fuck she found a gun but Amber probably had a bunch. Mostly because she had an insane amount of pockets, presumably for her many weapons.

As time ticked on by and Chad had almost run out of things to say, he quickly ran past Amber, managing only to get a slice across his leg and Tara had pulled the trigger. She had killed Amber.

The bullet went straight through her head and there was a huge amount of blood rushing from her head into the floor. Which made the floor even more bloodstained than it was before. Chad quickly ran up to Mindy who had been brutally stabbed in the heart and stomach and he sobbed.

He let the tears flow and flow as he shook Mindy’s dead body, finally processing everything after the adrenaline and being cornered by Amber had rendered him unable to think about anything. Tara on the other hand, was looking at her hand, with the gun in it.

Tara had fallen in love with a criminal. She found mountains of weapons in Amber’s house. Tara beat herself up for falling for Amber because if she didn’t then Wes would still be alive. Gina would too and so would Mindy. So much unnecessary pain for everyone.

If she didn’t just forgive Amber. The broody, mysterious, and dark girl with a sketchy past. But either way she was still in love, so it hurt for her too. And no one knew this but Amber did have three extremely possessive last words.

“Tara is mine.”

[violethowler]

Inverted Mirror: A Discussion of Shiro & Sendak’s S7 Fight Scene

Back before Season 8 came out, I wrote at least one meta on my @fandomoverflow sideblog about the fight between Shiro and Sendak in response to seeing the constant hate being directed at the writers because people saw Keith being the one to kill Sendak as undermining Shiro’s recovery from the trauma of his time in the Empire’s prisons.

The original post has since been deleted and only exists as reblogs, because this was back before tumblr’s porn ban opened my eyes to the importance of archiving and preserving fandom activity. But after I decided to put together a masterpost of all the meta I’ve written, I figured that I would try to write my thoughts out again to reflect on my understanding of that scene years later and see how my thoughts now compare to my thoughts then. 

And one thing that I still feel very strongly about even after all this time is that complaints about Shiro not getting to be the one to kill Sendak overlook the symmetry their fight in Season 7 has with their previous duel back in Season 1, and the significance of what that all represents in terms of Shiro’s character arc and the show’s themes. 

In their first fight back in Season 1, Shiro and Sendak are evenly matched. It ends in a stalemate with neither able to back down without the other killing them, but also unable to strike without being killed themselves. Sendak’s victory in that fight only comes from Haxus intervening and taking Lance hostage, distracting Shiro long enough for Sendak to knock him unconscious. 

In their season 7 fight, Shiro and Sendak are still evenly matched, and Sendak only gets the upper hand when his ship crashes on Earth’s surface. But Keith’s arrival in the Black Lion turns the tide and ends Sendak before he can kill Shiro. 

The common pattern here is that both times they fight, Shiro and Sendak are evenly matched. The only time one is able to get the upper hand over the other is when outside circumstances interfere, whether it be the environment they’re fighting in, or the presence of their allies. 

And it’s specifically the question of whose allies are present that determines the outcome of each of their battles. Shiro faced Sendak alone without backup in Season 1 and lost because Sendak brought reinforcements. In Season 7, Shiro has the rest of his team ready to swoop in and help, while Sendak is the one fighting alone. 

It’s a demonstration of the show’s emphasis on teamwork and working together that has been hammered in from the very first episode of the series. When Shiro and Sendak fight, the one that fights alone is the one that loses, while the one who fights with the support of others is victorious. 

And it also serves as an encapsulation of Shiro’s character arc that I observed in one of my previous meta a few months after Season 8: that Shiro started the series trying to deal with his problems alone without relying on anyone, and that he had to learn to admit his vulnerabilities and accept help from others. The point of his arc, like I said in that earlier essay, was a rejection of the mentality that someone is weak for needing help to deal with their problems, both physical and mental. 

So having Keith be the one to kill Sendak when Shiro is cornered after the ship crashes serves as a visual embodiment of that message: that Shiro doesn’t have to face his demons alone.

Which is further supported by the fact that the series has already established a consistent track record of Keith saving Shiro. 

First in Season 2 when he flew the Black Lion for the first time to rescue Shiro from the angry wildlife of the planet they crash landed on. 

Then again in Season 3 when he rescued Clone Shiro as he was about to die from lack of oxygen and supplies in his stolen Galra fighter. 

And finally in Season 6 when he refuses to let clone!Shiro fall even to save himself. 

Even outside of life-threatening situations, Keith has always been willing to jump in when Shiro needs help: 

During the paladins’ very first training exercise in S1E02 “Some Assembly Required”, Shiro freezes up at the sight of the Altean gladiator charging towards him and Keith doesn’t hesitate to throw himself in front of Shiro and block the gladiator’s blow. 

So Keith killing Sendak rather than Shiro doing it is the culmination of this pattern the series has been building up from the very first season (barring any moments in Season 8 that were cut due to WEP’s meddling of the final season).

Part of the reason I think people reacted so negatively back in 2018 to Keith dealing the final blow to Sendak instead of Shiro is that they were expecting the story to resolve Shiro’s trauma with a big, cathartic confrontation with the major figures of the Galra Empire responsible for his pain. Something like Zuko facing his father during the Day of Black Sun in Avatar.

But even if that was the kind of story the writers had been planning on for Shiro and his PTSD, Sendak would not have been the Ozai in this analogy. 

Back when Season 7 first came out, I saw a lot of fans at the time acting like Sendak was a major source of pain and trauma for Shiro because of the scene where Shiro has a panic attack while Sendak’s memories are being downloaded in Crystal Venom. 

But when you look at the details that the show gives us about Shiro’s experiences as a prisoner of the Galra Empire, Sendak actually has very little to do with the trauma associated with Shiro’s time in the arena. 

Sendak was never once shown or mentioned as being part of any of Shiro’s memories of his time in the arena, and when they meet face to face in “Fall of the Castle of Lions”, their reactions are distant and impersonal.

There’s no recognition of each other as anything other than a Paladin of Voltron and a General of the Galra Empire. 

And before the fight even begins, Shiro takes a defensive position, waiting for Sendak to make the first move. 

When Shiro is captured, Sendak does mention being impressed that Shiro managed to escape and wanting to see if the rest of humanity had his spirit, but this only really indicates that Sendak was aware of Shiro’s performance in the arena.

It doesn’t confirm any deeper knowledge of what happened to Shiro beyond what we already learned. Especially because his reaction to Shiro’s prosthetic arm during their fight shows that he didn’t know about it. Which indicates that Sendak was not directly involved in what Shiro endured. 

And the scene where Shiro hears Sendak’s in the memory chamber during “Crystal Venom” is directly indicated to have been Alfor’s corrupted AI giving voice to Shiro’s private fears and insecurities, as Lance’s experience with the airlock earlier in the episode established that the corrupted AI could mimic the voices of other people such as Coran.

So while Sendak may have been the instrument the castle used to trigger a panic attack, the details of Shiro’s backstory don’t support him playing any significant role in the horrors Shiro endured beyond that of a spectator in the arena.

This contrasts with his reaction to seeing one of the people directly involved in his torture and modifications when Haggar confronts him aboard Zarkon’s command ship in S1E11 “The Black Paladin.” His immediate reaction to seeing her is to angrily growl out “you”, demonstrating that he knows exactly who she is. And then almost immediately he goes on the offensive. 

Haggar was directly responsible for everything that happened to him and has a deep knowledge of things even he didn’t know, based on the fact that she announces her presence by referring to him by the name his fellow prisoners gave him. Unlike with Sendak, Haggar is personally invested in fighting Shiro and tormenting him for his lack of gratitude to her for “making him strong.”

So just in terms of the volume of information we have about each character’s relationship to Shiro, the character built up as the biggest source of trauma for Shiro in regards to his time in captivity was not Sendak, but Haggar.

If the narrative had been meant to build up to Shiro personally winning a battle against a major source of his trauma (and I won’t rule out the possibility that this might have been one more thing carved out of the final season by Bob Koplar’s meddling) like how Zuko fully broke free of his father’s influence by confronting Ozai during the eclipse, the Ozai in that scenario would be Honerva, not Sendak.

Especially because Honerva was the one directly controlling his clone self in the second half of Season 6 and forced him to turn against his team.

If Sendak was meant to correspond to any character in this ATLA metaphor, it would be Admiral Zhao.

Who, if you recall, was also finished off by outside interference during his rematch with Zuko during “The Siege of the North Part 2” when the Ocean Spirit dragged him into the Spirit World. And I don’t hear people arguing that Zuko was robbed of closure because he didn’t get to beat Zhao again.

But even outside of that comparison, Sendak actually does fit as the Zhao of Voltron in terms of their roles in their respective narratives. 

Zuko and Iroh are our first Fire Nation antagonists, but we quickly learn that they are banished and are not representative of the Fire Nation military capabilities. Zhao, on the other hand, is Team Avatar’s first look at an actual military leader of the Fire Nation who directly opposes them.. 

Similarly, while we get brief glimpses of Zarkon throughout the pilot, Sendak is the first actual military leader of the Galra Empire who comes into direct, face-to-face conflict with our main characters. And by the time the Paladins return to Earth in Season 7, he and his Fire of Purification are all that’s left of it.

Galra civilization as seen in Season 8 was reduced to scattered colonies living on isolated planets, trying to stay alive while salvaging what they could from the remnants of the empire’s infrastructure. With the throne empty after Lotor was left in the Quintessence Field and Honerva killing pretty much all the potential claimants at the Kral Zera during the timeskip, the Galra Empire ceased to exist as a political and military entity by the time the Paladins returned to Earth in Season 7.

The only people left who were shown to still be loyal to Zarkon’s ideology that the empire stood for are Sendak and his Fire of Purification.

So by killing Sendak to help Shiro, Keith symbolically fulfills his own words from when he tried to kill Zarkon back in “The Black Paladin”:

“This is my chance to put an end to the Galra Empire. I have to take it” 

But as I said, a big Zuko vs Ozai moment does not appear to have been the approach that the Voltron writers were taking with Shiro’s PTSD. 

His arc, like I said back in 2019, was about learning to rely on his team and accept that needing help from others did not make him weak. 

So contrary to what people were saying back when Season 7 dropped, Keith saving him from Sendak did not undermine his arc, but was (at least part of) its culmination. 

TL;DR: 

I don’t if this attitude is still common this attitude in 2022, but a lot of people post-Season 7 were insisting that Shiro should have been the one to kill Sendak, and years later that take still annoys me because it misses the point of Shiro’s character arc, exaggerates Sendak’s importance to said arc, and dismisses the multiple layers of symbolism and meaning in having Keith deal the final blow. 

[scientia-rex]

So tumblr mobile, at least, is now not letting me hide particular ads, and it is showing me the same weight loss ad repeatedly, and I'm done. I'll let the queue on this blog run out, but I can't be in an environment that doesn't care if it kills me as long as it can try to make a profit, @staff. I've deleted the app off my phone. I don't really have great backup ways to contact me, either. I nuked my Twitters. I'm on Dreamwidth but barely, I think I've posted once in the last year. I'm just... so tired of social media not giving one solitary hot shit about the human beings it's trying to shove through the meat grinder to make profit.

You're not even profitable! And triggering disordered eating in your clients is a REAL shitty way to go about trying to break that barrier.

[geminmyeyes]

Chapter 2 - Beyond Light and Shadow (Tumblr Backup)

<- Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ->

Somewhere in the Youkai World, a palace plunged in the darkest shadow, leaking with powerful yoki energy much like a stray drop of ink darkening the once clear water. Lit only by faint azure flames, a cold, calculating youkai with a feminine form sat upon her throne of decaying bone.

“Goku Hyakki-Hime, your majesty,” Chiharu began, kneeling before the might of the frigid hearted queen he served so loyalty for saving his life. His Kenbumajin was by his side, being able to manifest without the need for him and Chiharu to switch places like they did in the Human World. “I’ve done the request of bringing back the requested youkai, however,”

“However, what?” The queen’s cold voice spoke, her voice not either curious or furious. It was devoid of tone, not even that or boredom or bemusement.

“There was a group of individuals who possessed various Youkai Watch devices that opposed my efforts, I was able to fend them off with the aid of the Genma and the Kenbumajin you have given me, even killed one of their Kenbumajin,” Chiharu began his report, trying to save face. “But they seem to have the current lord of the Youkai World on their side, meaning it’s possible for them to get intel on the location of the Sacred King’s Armory.”

“The Hellfire Judgement Lance is a big maybe given the Mikado Tribe’s connections,” Chiharu’s Kenbumajin piqued in, trying to remain as collected as possible despite the sarcasm and need to make a biting remark flowed through his veins. “But the others I greatly doubt, given how scattered a lot of them are, both in the Human and Youkai Worlds. Even then, it took me breaking the limiters on my armor to get rid of that one Kenbumajin, dunno when I’ll be ready for that kind of power again.”

“Don’t fret though, my queen,” The Kenbumajin added to his statement. “That lance wielder isn’t even the one that killed me the first go around, we should be more than fine.”

“Technically don’t we have a Scared King’s Armory in our possession?” Chiharu piqued. His queen looked dull, but something in her eyes gave something resembling worry.

“It’s grafted to something I’d rather not think about unless it’s a moment of desperation. Besides, there’s no telling where the holder of such a weapon is so we can’t even use the power of one of the Sacred King Kenbumajin against them,” Goku Hyakki-Hime gave a typical lifeless response. “The two of you can go recover for now. Chiharu, please visit me in this throne chamber when you wake up, there are necessary upgrades I must bestow upon you.”

As the two were dismissed, Goku Hyakki-Hime shifted her focus elsewhere, to a fellow Oni that had been dragged in by her loyal knights.

Shutendouji, who was gradually becoming more and more conscious, shot right back to reality when Goku Hyakki-Hime held up his chin. In her stiff motions, there was at the very least a valiant, noble attempt to try to give him a tantalizing look. Damn, she must’ve known his tendency to obey anyone who calls herself princess. Without Douketsu to tell him how much of a simpleton he was acting like, he felt himself not too keen to improve on such a weak spot. Plus he had to admit, despite her dead motions, this queen lady was really damn cute.

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

The events from last week were, to put bluntly and simply, a lot to process despite happening in rapid succession. Not only was this Chiharu kid on their level, but had a Kenbumajin that was insanely powerful, leaving Asura greatly weakened and Fudou Muyoou dead in Youkai Terms. At least, that's what everyone guessed, not a soul had seen the ruffian boy form he took when he wasn’t lending his electrifying power to Touma anywhere. The kids had a vague idea on where to get help, but it was cryptic and they were at the end of the day, a bunch of first year high school students.

Yes, they saved all of Human and Youkai kind from extinction when they were only in middle school, but this felt different despite seeming initially, a much less pressing threat on the surface. Taking over the world at least had a chance of reclaiming it as opposed to full on extinction, but those wanting to take it had one hell of a dangerous ace up their sleeve.

Just who was that guy, anyways? Youkai existed in legends beforehand, the portrayal of the people being a bit different to how it is in the reality of the Youkai World (Lord Enma being a particular example, he can’t even grow a beard), and it puzzled Natsume. She had spent a whole night reading upon legendary archers with possible sun affiliations. Legends of an expert archer who shot down the nine suns upon request, punished with mortality alongside his wife. Another about a child of a sun god who started one of the bloodiest wars by being offered the most beautiful woman in the world. Several words were read about a prince fearful to fight against his family, but being assured it would be okay in the end by the literal universe itself. Stories of a god of sun, light, kingship, and the arts possessing a powerful sling and being the father to an equally great, if not greater, hero. So much information, such little time. A board originally for keeping memos and the occasional cute pin was now covered in thumb tacks and string with several handwritten notes from various paper pads she had kicking around in her room.

“The sun motifs and archery could have melded together, alongside a bitter resentment from becoming mortal for simply doing as he was instructed to do…” Natsume pondered aloud, gripping the pencil between her hands. “That guy HAS to be Hou-Yi! If I turn out to be wrong then I’ll be–”

“Natsume, sweetie?” A familiar, soft voice spoke, the door creaking open without a moment’s hesitation between the gentle knock that preceded. From that string of actions and voice, she recognized her as her mother instantly.

“Y-Yes, mom?” Natsume choked out as politely as she could, trying to ease up from the sudden entrance of her mother and about to yell a swear. 

Natsume’s mother simply just looked at her board with a puzzled look but an earnest nod. “I hope you’re having fun with…whatever you’re doing right now, but remember you start school tomorrow so it’s not the best idea if you stay up too late, alright?”

Crap, she had been staying up too late going down rabbit holes of information again, hadn’t she?

“I-I will! Wow, time sure does fly sometimes!” The daughter answered back rather awkwardly, her mother closing the door gently as she left.

In a moment of awkward silence, Natsume realized she should probably go to bed soon. It was halfway past midnight already. Her brain was already fairly fried by looking up so much information and trying to piece it all together.

As she was turning off the lamp and main light in her room, the corkboard stared her down. “HOU-YI” was written boldly and confidently in the center of the board, alongside a crude scribble of what she remembered that Kenbumajin looked like. String connected points to points from different stories and legends. 

She hoped that she would be able to balance all of this alongside the turbulence of starting high school tomorrow. 

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

A positive note for Natsume is that the day started out normally. Just take her seat, pay attention to what each teacher has to say, no sweat no problem. It was the first day after all, nothing too difficult would be given on the first day.

That would be the case if it wasn’t for the army of girls that manifested out of what felt like absolute thin air to crowd around one guy in particular. 

Whoever he was, he radiated with the distinct scent of lavender vanilla, and his skin was a divine smoky quartz free of any blemishes, glittering like the finest copper. Hair was a dark oxide red that had a few lilac hair extensions brushed in for extra effect. He was practically a modern Aprhodite, just casually going about with a posse of girls.

“It’s. It’s literally the first day!?” Natsume thought to herself, casually picking up the pace with walking to her classroom to avoid getting roped into whatever nonsense was going on over there. She took a seat, closed her eyes, and hoped whoever would plop into the desk next to her for the rest of the year would be tolerable.

 “I’m surprised that there’s a girl not instantly captivated by me,” The boy from earlier spoke, and to Natsume’s shock, was going to be right next to her for the rest of the year. Just great.

She didn’t bother to give him an introduction, making the kid’s smug face humbled slightly. This one would be a challenge, he thought.

“My name is Saito Mitsue, I kindly ask you to not forget such an important thing,” He tried to play it as smooth as he could, covering up his embarrassment and failing slightly at hiding it.

“I’m, uh, Natsume Amano,” Natsume answered bluntly within a bit of a bemused blurting out of an introduction.

Classes went by relatively normally, not even the homeroom teacher felt like they were secretly a malicious youkai this time around. Maybe this would all be normal. Aside from the aforementioned threats of a hostile conqueror of the human and Youkai worlds but that could wait until after a long drawl of classes. The last of these classes was next.

“Oh brother, Home Economics. Not my forte,” Saito bit his lip a bit in dread, Natsume looking a bit puzzled.

“Is it that hard? Mostly just learning a few different skills,” Natsume tried to reassure to the best of her ability. Saito looked off to the side a bit, his hand to the side of his face.

“Ehhh, I was never the best cook, I had to always get my brother to help me out–”

The rather fabulously eccentric boy’s train of thought came to a screeching halt when the door slid open and the one who would bear knowledge of home economics entered the room. He looked to be pretty toned and ripped. Slightly sunbaked skin could be seen through his mostly clean and professional look with a collared shirt and tie, but he had a scruffy, uneven beard, like he attempted to shave but the razor blades broke instantly on the first go around.

“Alright, let’s get this introduction brief and simple so we can get to the good stuff,” The man spoke, his voice strong yet gentle, crossing his arms to do his best to seem cool. “Name’s Mr. Kazama, and I’ll be your coach in showing you how to make the most of your home, from how to use appliances to how to cook well!”

As the last class of the day continued, Chiharu stood on the roof of the building, looking over something he was given this morning from his queen. It was a Youkai Arc, but the usually translucent white outer edge was pitch black, not a bit of light was allowed through despite its resemblance to a gemstone in terms of texture and weight. 

“This is a Dark Arc,” Her words echoed in his mind. “It gives a boost to a Youkai’s Shadowside form, but it can only be summoned in its Shadowside form and they will not really listen to you all that well. Summon them from a safe distance.”

He had asked about wanting to summon two fierce looking youkai he saw among the Dark Arcs, one of lightning and one of wind, but was ordered to refrain from summoning them due to the summoning system still being a prototype and those youkai in particular being a little more unruly. But perhaps if these Youkai Detectives prove themselves as a particular thorn in their side.

Initially, there was hesitation. A small part of Chiharu wondered if this was the right thing to do, something about the arc he was given and the ones his queen presented felt ominous in some way. 

But, an order from the queen is an order, and he had to obey to prove his gratitude towards his pointless life having been given some meaning.

In the same slot he would insert his Youseiken key into, Chiharu slotted in the arc, a shadowy energy coming out of the watch grafted to his arm as the face gave a faint glow. The words he was instructed to say flooded his mind and he held the dark arc over the watch face.

“One whose heart is sealed in darkness, let the world know your wrath!” The dark fog spread more and more until it summoned forth a youkai, where that youkai ended up or what it ended up being was unclear as the summoning coordinates seemed to be a bit off.

But what could be gathered was that this youkai had made the previously idyllically bright and sunny skies be covered in dense clouds that brought in buckets of hard hitting rain. Chaos was unleashed almost within an instant, it was quickly a record for schools to dismiss their students to let them go home early in this sudden freak storm. 

The blare of grating storm warning sirens and frazzled looking weather reporters, it was a delight for the wicked child.

In the midst of the sudden shift of weather without a single warning, among all the panic, a silver eyed university student was staying level headed, but was puzzled by the sight.

“The weather patterns for today…they didn’t line up like this at all!” Shirogane muttered to himself, pulling up a somewhat shady website on his phone, the occult reporting site Usuranura. There was no way that this was a freak accident of weather, he had forecasted that it was going to be clear skies from sunrise until sunset.

But was this all a work of something supernatural, or was he just a fraudulent meteorologist in training? Was this path even right? His mind was quite literally clouded.

Even then, the request was submitted, sitting in his university's science ward peacefully to try to inspect this bizarre phenomenon. 

To Shirogane’s surprise, there was a response to his request, and by the time he looked at it and put his phone down (the phone service on campus was a bit shoddy and slow), three spunky high school students stood before him.

“Oh hey, aren’t you that guy I ran into last week? Shirogane Inazuma was it?” Natsume asked, the aforementioned man nodding.

“Yes, it seems the rain keeps making us meet,” Shirogane commented, before getting back to the matter at hand. “As you can probably tell, there has been a sudden burst of rain despite there being no clouds as far as the eye could see earlier, and there’s no signs of it stopping either. It has the potential to become a Typhoon if it keeps up…”

“Shouldn’t you be headed home if the weather has the potential to be that bad?” Touma asked, Shirogane simply shaking his head in response.

“I’m a meteorology student, an understudy weatherman if you will, I can’t back down even when things look dire like this,” He answered, lost in thought.

“Well that settles it, this has to be the work of a Youkai, without a doubt!” Akinori concluded, Whisper looking up from his Y-Pad in a slightly shocked expression when the boy came to that conclusion.

Without further hesitation, investigation began to be underway between the trio, plus Shirogane and his knowledge of the facility. Something about this place, the Youkai causing this freak storm had to be around here somewhere…

Nearby weather radars kept monitoring, the rain being particularly intense around the facility’s building. The rain that was going over the building was less drops of rain and more of bullets battering the daylights out of the structure. 

Amidst the pour of rain there was…crying…sobbing? How strange. The four of them were the only ones in the building.

A shadowy presence could be seen down the hallway, Natsume pressed a switch on her Watch without a moment of hesitation to shine a light. 

Revealed within the cloud of shadow was a Youkai resembling a little girl, with blue skin and lilac hair that was sopping all over her crying face. Her torn umbrella dripped off waterfalls worth of water.

“I’ll try to lock the building where I can, we can’t have all that water trying to damage our equipment!” Shirogane made his intentions clear, meaning everyone would have to try to be careful within limited space confines, and a possible threat of flooding! Good thing this seemed to be a meeting room, so there was some space aside from a table in the middle of the room.

“Summoning, Shadow! Please come out my friend, Jibanyan!” Natsume didn’t hesitate in summoning the (mostly) reliable cat youkai, always there to lend a paw. That or perhaps it was merely just a habit. Regardless the feeling was summoned, but quickly reverted to his Lightside form when he was exactly what he was pitted up against.

“You expect me to square up against a kid?” Jibanyan questioned with a lot of hesitation to fight. “Look, I get it, I can punch a truck in half but I don’t beat up kids. I have a code of honor.”

The rainy youkai, having had enough of the bickering, casted forth some water to try to sweep the feline away, who just resulted in jumping onto a nearby fridge and hissed.

“You’re so…so mean and scary!” The smaller youkai sobbed, the water situation getting much worse by the minute.

“Possession, Genma! Yoshitsune! Lend me your strength!” Touma jumped in, figuring a smaller, less destructive Genma might be the key to winning this fight. In the meantime, Natsume fumbled around for another arc.

“Summoning, Shadow! Please come out my friend, Komsan!”

Within no time both the flute wielding Genma and the fierce shrine dog had made their appearances at last. Swiftly they took off into their own directions to deal with the situation at hand.

Yoshitsune was first to start things off, softly trying to approach the child.

“Is something troubling you, miss?” Yoshitsune asked politely, the child looking in the direction of the flute wielding Genma.

Her response was to smack the Genma silly, giving him a piece of her mind the whole time.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, you meanie!” She cried out, Yoshitsune backing off a bit after smacking the Youkai away with his small but handy sword. Something in her voice was a bit off however, like a child wasn’t this irrational to be calmly asked if everything was okay, right?

“It seems there is some sort of curse making this Youkai’s Shadowside much more violent and unreasonable than it typically is,” Yoshitsune gave his insight to the situation at hand.

“Alright, well it might be best to see if ol’ Komasan can get an opening on that kid and I can see if a little bit of Yojistu can get her out of her funk!” Akinori explained his plan, coordination on the fight being underway.

While waters began to rise in the small meeting room, Komasan tried to figure out how to knock over the Youkai without causing too much harm to a literal child. So using his finisher to summon a huge rock statue to crush her seemed to be an absolute last resort plan.

The dog’s thoughts were stopped by a jet of water being blasted into his direction, jumping out of the way made him run into a chair with wheels and nearly crashing into a wall had he not stopped himself at the last possible moment. Wait a second…perhaps…?

Leaping out of the chair, Komasan proceeded to kick it square in the direction of the rainy youkai, making her wobble a bit where she stood.

“Now!” Komasan barked, Akinori getting a smug look on his face.

“Alright, time to shine, take this!” The priest boy yelled, making a star formation out of magic and tossing it at the rainmaking Youkai, causing a burst of light to purify the troublesome youkai.

Finally, the rain had stopped. The sun started to break through the clouds, slowly starting to dry up the sopping wet ground.

“Is everything alright?” Shirogane asked from the other side of the locked door.

“All clear skies!” Natsume answered, all the locks in the facility being disabled and going back to normal.

All the flooding water that had resulted from the encounter had dried up and now standing was a much cheerier youkai bathed in sunny yellows and a less torn up umbrella. Her face was graced with an expression of pure, unparalleled joy.

“How did I end up here?” The sunny Youkai asked herself curiously, the teens approaching her.

“Hey there little miss, is everything alright?” Natsume inquired, the youkai just smiling in return.

“Yeah, I just got lost,” The asked youkai answered sickeningly sweetly. “By the way, my name is Hare-Onna, my shadowside there is called Ame-Onna but I often get mixed up with my mama if you aren’t super specific. Plus I like being happier and sunnier anyways!”

“Hare-Onna, do you know what happened to cause you to act out in such a way? You don’t seem like the type to do that often,” Touma added in, the girl thinking for a bit before giving a slight sigh.

“I don’t remember much, I remember seeing a mean looking boy as the last thing before my memory got really clouded.” Hare-Onna answered, trying not to seem too glum but perked right back up. “But! I think they might have put a spell on me to be really mean. Usually I stay in one place when I’m in my Shadowside form, I don’t like causing trouble.”

Mean looking boy, that’s probably Chiharu…

“So whoever this Queen of a Hundred Demons is, she must have something that causes Youkai to go berserk and violent,” Akinori thought for a moment, piecing it all together. 

“An evil queen? That sounds awful, please, let me help out in any way that I can!” Hare-Onna called to action, handing out her Arc without a moment of hesitation. “I pinky promise that I’ll listen and be nice, even when I’m upset and go into Shadowside!”

“Thank you, we’re doing our best to figure out how to stop her before things get out of hand,” Natsume smiled back, the sunny enthusiasm rubbing off on her.

Meanwhile, Shirogane thought to himself, some of the words the priest boy was saying. A Queen of a Hundred Demons? Why did that sound so…so eerily familiar?

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

Miles and miles away, far off in France, a museum tour to a group of high schoolers was underway, taking them through a special exhibition showing off various weapons from across the world.

Swords, spears, shields, knives, bows and arrows, you name it, from all corners of the globe, they were on display. While each was a crafted thing of beauty to behold, there was one that caught the pale blue eye of one student that came abroad.

“Excuse me, could you tell me more about this really pretty archery bow you have here?” Ayame politely asked one of the curators, pointing in the direction of a bow made of pure platinum highlighted with bright cyan accents. 

“Yes, that bow was found by the curation team of this traveling exhibit, and they found it in the Yamuna River miraculously intact and without a scratch!” The curator gave a gentle smile and began to explain. “It’s a miracle such a thing of pure platinum didn’t seem to rust. Because of its ability to have been kept in pristine condition and where it was found, the curation team has decided to call it ‘Gandiva’. Shame that tomorrow we have to pack things up to go to our next stop in Japan…it’s a wonderful piece of weaponry and art.”

“Thank you, and I agree, it is quite a beautiful piece of artistry!” Ayame thanked, before starting to take mental notes, as something about the bow looked strangely familiar. 

She got out her phone to scroll through her group chat log between her and the other detectives across the continent and to the sea, further inspecting the engraving from the Youkai World she had been sent in the chat. It was a rhythmic pattern of looking at her screen and then back at the display case.

There was no denying it had a similar four gem set up with a colored diamond much like the other Youseiken she had seen. The primary color of cyan matched the depiction seen in the large engraving, even some of the distinct patterns were translated.

Making sure her hands were steady, Ayame got the best photos she could, getting a few closeups as well, making sure nothing was missed by any glares from the glass or random museum goers being in frame. Then, the photos were sent alongside a message and sticker of a cute rabbit with polka-dotted inner ears making a shocked expression.

“Hey guys, I think this might be one of the Sacred King’s Armory Youseiken you guys were talking about to me last week!?” 

“Woah! Do you know if it’s a permanent part of that exhibit or of a touring exhibit?”

“They said it’ll be on the road to Japan starting tomorrow, so it might be at a museum where you guys are all at! It’s called the Marvelous Weapons Of the Past Three Millennia exhibition!”

[hanibalistic]

CELESTIAL STRINGS | HAN JISUNG.

genre | fluff, angst, romance, friendship / soulmate au, magic au 

synopsis | having been alone most of your life, the last thing you thought would gain you a few friends and a home was helping a random boy get past the school gate after he was late.

word count | 34.5k+

warning | violence, mentions of blood and injuries / mentions of death and killing ​

note | limiting 1000 blocks per post is the single most stupidest thing tumblr pt.2

parts | one, two, three

Seconds ticked by as you and Jisung stared at each other, him with determination and you with anxiety. He was watching your every move, or at least it seemed like he was observing every churn of your muscles. 

It almost felt as if he had already predicted your backup plans and was ready to strike out a solution at any given moment. And if he noticed how your hands were trembling, he had given you the time to deal with it instead of butting in.

What could you do, [Name]? You have dealt with so many problems on your own before. You have managed to sneak out of your home and leave the city you once resided in without leaving a single trail. You have managed to create a brand-new identity and conceal your magic from plain sight. You have managed to go several years without shelter or stability over your head.

You got over so many things, including letting the wrong people know your magic and the act of memory erasure, so why did your head suddenly start stumping just because it involved Han Jisung this time? Why was it hard for you to wipe a small piece of memory this time?

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and glittery as though there were tears of concern withering underneath them. Jisung softened at your vulnerable state, which almost compelled him to drop the matter altogether. But you had thrown him over the edge of a gate and blasted him across his own bedroom, and you have dead parents and no home to go back to. 

Nothing that happened was an ordinary thing. None of what he heard about you was daily news to him. Not only did he deserve an explanation from you, he would also never forgive himself if he does not take the opportunity to get everything answered.

“I am your friend, [Name],” he whispered, his eyes wide with sincerity.

Right. He is your friend, and just that simple fact made everything so much harder for you to disclose. You were juggling this friendship at the tip of your fingers, uncertainty floating everywhere. The idea of him slipping away was haunting. The idea of your dropping back to where you began was haunting.

“You can tell me,” he persuaded, not stepping over to you yet but simply choosing to use verbal comfort. “I can help you. Let me help you.”

You let out a strained noise at the back of your throat. He was talking like you have major problems going on in your life, which you certainly have! You just haven’t gotten the time to realize it. As days pass, you have gotten used to how your life turned out, and the bad has become normal.  

Your dead family, your empty home, the city council, the fear of authority, the pressure of early maturation, the loneliness—they all suddenly started to fill your head up like a storm, twisting and swirling to destroy all that was left inside you. Everything came back to you at once, forcing you to remember and reminisce.

Jisung held back a gasp when you glared at him. Your eyes were teary, but no tears fell, and he somehow knew that the anger burning within was not directed at him. He was baffled, for sure. He had never seen you on the verge of tears before. But he was more empathetic than surprised. He wondered how much you have been through in your past, how much you had to endure on your own and he never knew of.

“Jisung…” Your voice was small as you finally spoke, but he heard you and replied. When you looked at him, you gulped. “I don’t know where to start.”

Finding the right words to describe your childhood, from its timeline to its tragedies, should be easy since everything happened for a reason, and one thing led to another. But you did not know where to begin, somehow. Going to the root of all things felt like you were trying to make sense of your trauma, but there is never sense in those things. There is only a cause and an end, and you have yet to reach the end. 

It was an organized mess with too many events and repressed emotions for you to explain it like a glorified story.

“That’s fine, I got you,” he said with a quick nod. Finally approaching you, he gently tugged at your hand and pulled you to the edge of his bed, where you both sat down. He hummed for a little, gathering his questions before asking, “Let us start easy. I don’t need that much detail, but can you tell me about the strings on your hands?”

“Yeah,” you said after a sigh. “They are–”

“Magic?” Jisung looked at you. His tone was more serious than you have ever heard him. When you gave him a shocked expression, he shrugged. “I kind of figured. You threw me over the school gate, which is tall as hell. And you just sent me flying across the room in your sleep. I wouldn’t believe you now if you tried to tell me otherwise.”

You pursed your lips together. The determination in his eyes was familiar to you, yet they felt vague and confusing. You feared what the burning was for. Was it the intention to hate and expose you? Or was it to accept and understand you? The question lingered, but you kept it inside.

“Yeah, they are magic,” you muttered, rubbing your wrist in a circular motion. “I was born a magic-user. I used to live in a magic-populated city. It’s the one close to this city, so I escaped here to Seoul. This is the fastest place I could run to and hide, and it is a bonus that this city is huge.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. He was hearing too many buzzwords. “What are you escaping from?”

“Like I said, it is a very long story,” you informed. 

You were not holding out hope that Jisung would choose to back down and let the matter drop. It was more to give him a fair warning that he was about to dive deeply into your childhood and everything that led you up to this point. Glancing up at him, you took a deep breath to calm yourself when you saw that he seemed ready and steady to listen.

“All magic cities have two councils, one for the magic users and the other for the ordinary people living there. The one we are focusing on pertains to people like us. I was never too sure what it is that they do. Legal things and whatnot. I was too young to understand them. I just know that my family has always held a high status within the council because of the unique magic we use,” you explained, rubbing your hands to calm your nerves.

“A new group of councilmen is selected whenever the current ones turn too old for the job. There isn’t a set interval like the government system you guys have. Things don’t change every couple of years. Things change when people die," you said. "And, like I said, my family has a history of working for the council. They go through the elections and tend to be chosen to be part of the group of councilmen. It has been like that for a long time.”

Jisung was nodding along as you spoke. He listened carefully to everything you said, about how the last election was no different than the rest and how your father was supposed to be the next in line after your grandfather had passed away. Until that point, a sense of dread had gradually started to paint over his face. He could almost predict how things would unfold for you, and he was devastated.

“The election ceremony happened at night. I was not told any gory details about what exactly went down. I just heard that there was a blackout, and when the lights came back up, my entire family was gone. Dead. If not dead, injured,” you said, your voice trembling and your brows furrowing as you tried to remember. 

It felt like there was a knot clogging in your throat, and it was taking you too much effort to speak. “The injured ones were all rushed to the hospital, but only my uncle managed to come out alive. He has been in a coma ever since. I… I am not sure why, though. I can’t wrap my head around why they decided to keep him alive.”

Jisung wanted to comment on the event, but he clasped his mouth shut instead. He didn’t know what to say. Nothing felt appropriate at the moment, not even a simple ‘I am sorry for what happened’ because it did happen, and it was terrible. An overused, sympathetic line would not suffice for anything.

“The family of each election candidate is supposed to attend that ceremony. You can imagine how big and glorified the process is. Everyone is supposed to be there! But I couldn’t because I got the flu that day.” You glanced down at your hands, where you squeezed your nail to the skin of your palm as a sore laugh left your throat. “People like to tell me I got lucky that I wasn’t there. But you know… sometimes, I kind of wish I had been there.”

What was it like? He wondered. What was it like to receive that much death news in one go? Were you too sick and too young to comprehend it at that time? Have you been sleeping the night away, only to wake up and find out you’ve been completely isolated from the world? Were you lucky to have slipped away from death’s grip, or were you unlucky to have lost everyone you’ve loved at such a young age?

“Since everyone was dead and the only person who could replace my father’s place was stuck in a long coma that I am not smart enough to reverse, I thought they would elect someone else,” you said, then you shook your head as a dissatisfied expression confused your face. “But they didn’t. They waited a few years until I turned ten, and then they forced me to take classes to learn about the council and prepare me for a future campaign. ”

Jisung furrowed his brows. “What about that? Is that bad?”

“I didn’t think so originally, but I am slowly coming to an understanding now,” you told him, your tone gradually lowering as you started to glare at the empty air. “My family has always done well in the council. It is so much easier for our family to gain trust from people. I like to think it's because we rarely mess up, but the way the other candidates see it is that we are just legacy hires. People with my family name have always been in the council, so might as well let that continue!”

“But, with this sudden mess, the other households finally saw a chance of breaking the pattern, and that was through me.” You pointed at yourself. “Working with people so much older than me, who know more about the council's inner workings than I do... it's all a disguise. They paraded me around like a sad orphan rescued, but they were trying to screw me over. When they do successfully mess me up, my failure will inevitably lead to the downfall of my family’s reputation, even though only two of us are left now.”

Jisung’s jaw dropped in thought. He was piecing the information together now and, thankfully, it was much easier to understand than he expected it to, albeit definitely much more dramatic. It sounded straight out of a television show. If only he could utilize the same method to solve your problem. 

“Besides, I don’t even want to be in the council. The whole authority thing just doesn’t sit well with me, even if I am the one having it.” You shivered with a grimace. “But it doesn’t seem like I’ve got a choice. I tried my best to give them shit for trying to teach me anything, but that was proven to be unsuccessful.”

It is certainly troublesome to have a child who is unwilling to obey, but it is even worse to have an adult who refuses to listen. Everything you did, including trying to straight-up ignore those who attempted to pamper you to be qualified enough, has gone completely unnoticed on purpose.

“Eventually, I decided to just pack my bags and leave for good,” you sighed, a troublesome pout forming on your lips. “It is hard for me to visit my uncle now. I can’t guarantee I won’t get caught if I go back, so I haven’t seen him for some time. I doubt that he had woken up, though. I am sure people are pulling strings to ensure he never does.”

Jisung clicked his tongue as if he were the one with an uncle lying on his almost deathbed. Just listening to the story was infuriating for him; if he had the power to beat those adults asses, he definitely would do it. Not just for you but for the city's greater good.

You laughed at his scoff. “Yeah. me too. But it doesn’t matter much now. I am here. He is there. There is almost nothing I can do about the situation, so I am focusing on laying low and making sure I won’t have to run off somewhere else anytime sooner.“

Jisung fiddled with his fingers. His head was hung low in thought, thinking about the possibility of you ever being discovered. He certainly wouldn’t hope for you to leave. Mostly because he would want you to stay, that thought deriving from very friendly reasons. But also because he would love for you to settle down somehow.

Find a home, perhaps. And find people who could and would take care of you; that was an important goal on the bucket list he made on your behalf. Frowning a little, Jisung’s mind twinkled within the obscurity that if you permitted him, the boxes on the list would have long been checked off.

The thought never crossed his mind that he may be put in harm’s way simply by being your friend. Frankly, to calculate the harm a victim can do unto you immediately after they have told you their story was indecent to him. He was more humane than that. He has better morale than that. 

Things were pretty much out and clear now. At the very least, he thought he knew what he should know. Not that he wouldn’t dig deeper into your traumatic childhood experiences. He most definitely would like to share the burden a little if allowed, but the night felt too full already, and he didn’t feel like adding more pressure to it anymore.

"Okay,” he responded quietly to accommodate the nighttime. ”Thank you for telling me everything.”

"You are welcome.” You offered him a faint and unsure smile.

Jisung was taking things too well, and you have told him a lot more than you have said to previous others. You only used to talk about your magic, never about your family. No one was ever interested in your family. Pursing your lips, there came a thought that maybe Jisung was different than everybody else. From how he reacted to your story to how you always feel this strong magnetic pull towards him.

What was up with that? You still have not figured out why you felt so drawn toward him.

“[Name]?” Jisung called, tilting his head to the side questioningly. When you looked at him, he asked, “Are you feeling okay? Do you want to go to bed?”

“I’m fine, it’s just… I didn’t tell you anything about the strings, actually,“ you muttered. "Just thought you might want to know.”

Jisung laughed after a moment, his eyes widening in realization. You had branched off from his initial question, and he forgot what he asked because of the intensity of the information dump. Grinning at you, he shrugged with a dismissive wave, “You can tell me tomorrow! Just go to sleep. On the bed. Sleep on the bed.”

You gave him a furrow of your brows as protest, and you tilted your head when he stubbornly held your gaze.

“Okay, fine.” You rolled your eyes, turning around to adjust the pillow on the bed so you could lie down after Jisung left for his desk.

Covering yourself with the blanket, you felt a rush of fluff drowning down your chest. The warmth and the softness of this little cocoon you’ve created were none you’d ever thought you could have again. You pulled at the hem until it reached your shoulders, and you peered over at Jisung slightly.

The lamp illuminated his back, almost as if casting a natural glow around his heavenly self. Your heart slowed down at the peaceful sight, and you fidgeted with your mind to check whether you wanted to say something.

“Um… Jisung?”

He turned at your timid voice, brows raised in concern, “Yeah?”

“Thank you for not being weird about this,” you said.

Jisung softened, his grip on the pencil lightening up, and the eraser tip tapped against his textbook. Whatever has left you with the impression that you needed to thank people for not acting out on a life you didn’t choose to live, he wished you had never needed to go through that again. And all that life has thrown at you by far, he wished you never had to go through that again.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied with a mutter. 

You gave him faint snores as a response, and Jisung breathed a short laugh of relief. He left the blessing of a good night's sleep for the dimming of his lamp and the fact that he would be just a few steps away if anything were to happen.

Jisung was too tired to throw a hissy fit early in the morning when he found out you stuck him back onto his bed and slept on the floor with a thin sheet of blanket anyway.

When he was called to wake up in the morning, he happily urged you to freshen up in the bathroom first so he could have an extra five minutes to sleep. The appalled expression on his face was priceless when it only took you roughly two to three minutes—or what Jisung felt to be ten seconds—to clean yourself up for the morning.

“Come on, Jisung,” you said as you tugged at the bedsheet he had pulled over his face. “I don’t want to have to haul you over the school gate, and I cannot guarantee that I won’t throw you too harshly again this time.”

He whined from under the blanket, his voice muffled as he pulled harder at the blanket in refusal. It was a game of tug of war, one that you knew if you tried, you would win. All you needed was one strand of red string. But you decided to humor him a little, your hands still pulling gently at the fabric as Jisung stubbornly wrapped his legs around it to keep you from removing the warmth.

“Alright, I warned you.” You let go of the blanket after allowing him a minute to be childish about going to school. Stepping away from his bed, you moved to the corner of the floor and grabbed your backpack. You headed to the door and looked behind your shoulder at him, sighing. “My shift starts in the morning, so I’m leaving now. Thanks for letting me stay the night, Jisung.”

Jisung furrowed his brow. The farewell was too sudden. He wanted to think you were just bluffing to make him wake up. Yet, when he was piecing the puzzle together, what you said was not only within your character, but it also made sense. You did seem like the type to leave with a short announcement, and if you weren’t attending schools, you would have to work to sustain yourself.

He peeked an eye over the blanket to see if you were standing in his room, and a part of him jumped to find an empty room. Trailing his gaze to the side, your bag was also gone from where it lay yesterday night. You did leave! Gasping under his breath, Jisung quickly sat on his bed, flipping his blanket over to the side.

Panic rose in his chest; he needed to catch up with you! Who was to say you wouldn’t ghost him for another week after you leave?

“Shit–hold on, [Name]!” He swung the door open, planning on heading to the living room to see if you were still in his home. But he abruptly stopped when he found you standing right outside his room with a deadpan expression on your face.

“Good, you are finally awake,” you muttered as you removed your backpack from your forearm and swung it over your shoulders to wear.

Taking your action as an incentive to leave, Jisung quickly took a step closer to you and took hold of your arm, his eyes rounding innocently as he spoke. His voice came out low and raspy, so he cleared his throat before he spoke again, “Wa–um…wait, you are staying for breakfast, right? And then we are going to school together?”

Shrugging his hand off, you gave him a grimace. “Yeah. Your mom already made me breakfast outside, so I have to stay for that,” you pointed out, looking towards the door leading you directly to the living room. “But it doesn’t take me that long to eat, so if you aren’t ready by the time I finish my bowl of rice, I will leave first.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise!” he exclaimed. “Just don’t leave without me, okay?”

You pursed your lips in defeat, a faint eye roll struggling to surface. “Okay. Just hurry up. I have work.”

The relieved smile Jisung showed you only made your grimace widen. 

This boy was infuriating at best without even trying to be so. As cheesy and corny as it sounded, he was different than others, drastically different that you were unsure how to react to him sometimes. Until now, you still could not understand why he was so hell-bent on befriending you. He has practically done all that he could, hasn’t he? He refused to leave you alone; he put a shelter over your head, and now he was making sure he could spend his entire morning with you as well. 

And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t wrap your head around why he wanted to spend all that effort on you.

The idea of you exuding any appeal was unfathomable, so that reason was immediately thrown out. Could it possibly be the magnetic feeling you felt with him? Did he feel it as well, that intriguing pull akin to faint electricity dancing across your skin whenever you two are near each other?

“You’re so weird, Jisung,” you commented under your breath. When he threw you a questioning tilt of his head, you couldn’t help but huff out a curt laugh. “No one has ever gone this far to make sure I become friends with them before.”

“Well, they should!” he said, almost proudly. “I think you would make an incredible friend!”

You laughed, “Oh, great. I thought you would say something about me having magic.”

“Oh, yeah, that is pretty cool too.” Jisung smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He let his arm drop to his side after a moment, his eyes growing more sincere suddenly. He was looking at you intently, ensuring he had your attention before saying, “But I think even if you don’t have magic, I’d still want to be your friend.”

Surely, he gained interest in you because you threw him over the gate, and he wanted to find out how. And, surely, it was interesting to know that you were one of the rarely heard-of magic-wielders living near them. And, surely! He felt an unnerving pull towards you. He could feel its presence wherever you were around, like it was waiting to reveal itself.

But, ultimately, your slip of the tongue about your parents got his empathy up and running, not the magic. 

You looked up at him, the glimmers in your eyes wavering at his words.

Jisung was different in that he showed you genuine affection and interest. He easily balanced out the magic part of you and the personal part of you, it was never only the magic part of you unlike how it has always been. He took all aspects of you to his heart, and he held you carefully in his hands despite your many attempts to fall from the gaps in his fingers.

“You are making this too sentimental for me,” you commented monotonously, giving Jisung a smile so rigid and forced that even he started feeling awkward.

“You know how I get emotional, [Name],” he muttered funnily, his eyes squinting to mimic how his heart was squeezed by your disappointing response to his touching words.

“I don’t know, Jisung.” You tightened the grip on your backpack straps, blinking at him with a small frown. “You see, we’ve only been friends for a couple of days, and so far, only I spilled my childhood traumas.”

“Oh, no worries. I can spill all my childhood traumas to you if you want. I’ll get you spooked about all the chocolate I’ve stolen from the cabinet.” Jisung said as he glanced down at his invisible watch. He looked back up at you then, feigning professionalism on his serious features. “I am free tonight at ten o’clock. We can have a background check session in my room before we call it a day. We have much to talk about.”

“How about you finish your morning routine first? The clock is still ticking, and you are still in your pajamas.” You poked his shoulder with a glare. “Like I said, hurry up or go to school alone.”

Jisung glanced at the clock on his wall and yelped in shock. Brushing past you quickly, he slammed the door to the bathroom. You sighed inwardly when you heard the lock click and slowly made your way to the living room with a mind filled with thoughts.

The day had barely started yet, and he was already trying to make sure you would stay for another night. You didn’t plan to stay another night, frankly speaking. No matter how agreeable he and his family were, you just could not get past the feeling of being a burden.

Your shoulders relaxed a bit when you realized you’ve got to think up a plan during the day; at least that would keep your mind off all the unfortunate people you would meet during your shift.

“Han Jisung!”

A lunchbox slammed itself down on the table, and its tremor caused the bird that had landed in front of Jisung to fly away. He glanced up at the intruder and clicked his tongue when he found Hyunjin staring back down at him with an apologetic yet guiltless grin. Following suit behind him were Seungmin and Felix, one with a faintly annoyed expression while the latter held a natural smile.

“You scared the birdie away!” Jisung complained with a pout. “I was feeding it my sandwich.”

“Alright, I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sat down from across the boy. “Since when did you start playing around with birds anyway?”

“It flew over and refused to leave, so I thought it wanted my sandwich.” Jisung shrugged. “I peeled some of my bread for it, and it was eating just fine until you decided to slam your lunchbox on the table, you damn brute.”

“Hyunjin was just excited today. He didn’t get the chance to talk to you during recess because he needed to finish his make-up test, but he has been dying to talk to you the whole day,” Seungmin mumbled when he finally approached the lunch table as well. He gently set his homemade bento box down and scooted onto the bench seat next to Jisung. Turning to the boy, Seungmin tilted his head. “Come to think of it, I am also quite curious.”

“Curious about what?” Jisung questioned, taking a bite of his sandwich and munching on it as he looked at all his friends.

“We saw you arriving at school with someone today,” Felix finally joined the conversation, trying to balance the paper plate of food while picking balls of rice with his other hand.

Seungmin groaned when Felix approached the table, and he quickly slid the boy a pair of chopsticks to use. Meanwhile, Jisung stayed rigid on his spot, unsure what his friends wanted him to tell them about you while their eyes focused on him with anticipation.

“What about it?” Jisung asked, taking another bite of his sandwich to occupy himself.

Hyunjin scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He moved away from the table briefly before leaning back in, his forearm on the edge to give him a more menacing vibe. Arching a brow at Jisung, he urged his friend to speak up. “Who are they? We didn’t know you had friends outside of us three!”

“Not to mistake that as us thinking we don’t want you to have friends outside of the three of us, of course,” Felix clarified with a shrug. “We’re just curious since you two walked to school together.”

“And they also did this!“ Hyunjin jumped up from his seat and reached over to Jisung. His finger tenderly traced a line over Jisung’s forehead before he smacked Jisung over the eyes playfully, a laugh erupting through the table when Jisung swatted his hand away with a frown.

Felix blinked from the side when he noticed something from the brief moment Hyunjin moved Jisung’s bangs away from his face. His eyes were wide and observant when he said, “Hey, Jisung, I think your scar is gone!”

Hyunjin hummed at Felix’s words. He hadn’t seen it before because he was too busy trying to get Jisung riled up about you. But now that he had taken a closer look, he finally noticed the smooth surface on the side of Jisung’s forehead where there was once a scar he had gained from falling off the gate he had tried to climb the other day.

Jisung reached up and pressed his fingers against his forehead. He gasped lightly when he couldn’t feel the stinging pain anymore. “Oh yeah,” he chuckled as he glanced at the table. It must have been your doing, possiblely when you healed him yesterday night after you threw him across his room. “My mom got me these medicinal creams from a facial shop. It healed me up quicker than I thought.”

As Hyunjin sat back down, he gave the boy a moment of relaxation before he looked at Jisung expectantly again. “So…” He started expectantly, “Who are they? Friends? Crush? A lover from outside the school? Soulmates?”

Seungmin snorted with an eye roll. “Wow, the lineup gets worse.”

“How is soulmate the worst?” Felix furrowed his brows in disagreement.

“They’re worst in the way that they don’t exist.” Seungmin shrugged as he replied, his focus on his lunch. “There is no point in pinning over non-existent things.”

“How do you know they’re not real?” Felix retorted again, holding desperately onto the romantic concept. His grip on his plastic spoon was as strong as his determination to hold onto this concept. “Do you also think people who can use magic are not real just because you’ve never met one before?”

“Where is the correlation?” Seungmin muttered impatiently, nonsensical annoyance flooding briefly into his eyes. “Also, as far as we know, those people are only alleged to exist. We have never heard any news about them. Nobody talks about them online, and they live in their own city or region or whatever. They are way too good at excluding themselves from reality to be real people.”

Jisung laughed awkwardly from the side, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. His past views on magic-wielders were not as extreme as Seungmin’s, but part of his friend's statement was correct. The perfect ability to conceal a whole population of people this well did make the existence of said population rather dubious. Everything anyone has heard was just heresy and fairytales. The concept of soulmates must be included as they were part of the cosmos and, therefore, magic. 

Jisung pat Seungmin on the shoulder when he saw the boy was about to throw another devastating truth (that Jisung now knows was mostly not true at all) at Felix. 

Come to think about it, from what he remembered, your family did have a history with strings. Perhaps you might know a thing or two about the red string of fate, and he might be able to discreetly give Felix some solace about it.

“Don’t mind him, Seungmin,” Jisung said. “There is this college boy Felix is having a giant crush on at the tutoring center.”

“Really? What happened to the girl from your class?” Hyunjin asked in bewilderment, turning his attention to Felix then.

Seungmin heaved a defeated sigh. “It’s Felix. He probably likes them both right now.”

“They’re just crushes!” Felix said defensively, a mouthful of rice and spitting everywhere during this heated moment. “Oh, what, I can’t have crushes now?

Seungmin grimaced at the rice that had accidentally scraped past his face. He began his daily distasteful scolding while Hyunjin chimed in from time to time just for the sake of getting Felix more flustered than he already was. Jisung laughed along at the side, feeling a little glad that he could divert the attention away from him and you.

Glancing down at his lap, he discreetly peeled a piece of bread from his sandwich and handed it to the bird that had quietly nudged its way back to him mid-conversation. As it pecked the crumbs of the bread off his palm, Jisung couldn’t help but giggle.

“Did [Name] send you here, birdie? How are you so mellow?” He muttered under his breath before he laughed.

That would not be impossible, but he thought it’d be unlikely.

Felix glanced down at his phone and sighed before he shoved it back into his pocket. He glanced up at Jisung, his eyes softening at how Jisung kept glancing back and forth along the street. Felix had only planned to wait a while with him since he was quite curious about who you were as well, but they have been waiting for longer than Jisung had verbally anticipated and you still haven’t turned up yet.

“Jisung,” Felix called, his voice showing mild distress.

“Yeah?” Jisung looked behind him at his friend, his brows furrowed and his eyes holding a glare not meant for Felix.

“Are you still waiting?” Felix asked, ignoring the firm gaze thrown at him. “It’s been an hour.”

Jisung nodded, his lips pursing tightly as if to prevent the negative thoughts from being voiced. You would be here, he believed. You promised him. “Yeah. I told them I’m not leaving unless they show up.”

“Oh… I…” Felix sighed in confusion. “What is the situation, exactly? Did you have to give them something important?”

Jisung was already reluctant when he mentioned that he planned to wait with him. Felix chalked it up to Jisung being possessive of your relationship and chose to stay behind anyway. But, seeing that it had been an hour and most students had already left the school premises, this felt like an urgent matter rather than a slight obsession with a new crush, which was still just an assumption on his part. He knew nothing about you and who you were to Jisung, after all.

“No, but it is about something important,” Jisung replied with his eyes dead-set on the street far down. “They promised me they would be here, and I told them I won’t leave until they arrive, so I’m waiting.”

“Oh… well, I have to leave, though,” Felix pointed behind him at the bus stop far away. “I have to head to the tutoring center.”

“You should go then,” Jisung urged, waving his hand dismissively without sparing a glance at his friend. “You don’t want to be late.”

Felix quietly left his side. A part of him didn’t plan for his friend to see him act all nervous and fidgety anyway. It was an uncommon sight for him to be all sweaty and anxious like this. Not to mention how pathetic he felt when it dawned upon him that this tightness came from the simple thought of you backing out on your words.

His frown deepened as each second ticked past, and you were still nowhere to be found. He was seriously contemplating heading to where you left off this morning in hopes to see if he would stumble upon the shop you worked in somehow. But you would have already left your work, would you not? Your next job should be at the convenience store… no, that was on weekends!

Before Jisung could make sense of his plan to find out where you were, he looked up from the ground and found you rushing towards him with an unamused expression. He breathed out a heavy sigh and straightened his back as you approached him quickly. He threw you a pout when you were within earshot, frustrated that it took you so long to arrive and without an ounce of anger in his being.

“What took you so long?” He whined. “I thought you backed out!” 

“I had to stay behind for a bit because someone didn’t show up today,” you replied. “I thought you knew? I told you not to wait for me.”

“When did you tell me?” Jisung asked incredulously.

“I sent you something! I put it on a birdie and sent it to you!”

Oh, that was you.

“[Name], I don’t understand birds!” he exclaimed with a growing smile, throwing his arms up in defeat.

You stared at him, eyes wide in deep thoughts. Then, comedically, you pointed a finger at him and tapped against the air. “Yeah, I always thought how much that must suck for you guys,” you mentioned, causing Jisung to drop his jaw in disbelief. 

“Anyway, I strapped a note on it,” you muttered to yourself then, recalling your lunch break when you clearly made sure you tied a ribbon around the sparrow before flying it off to the school. Pouting, you scrunched the side of your mouth. “Maybe it dropped my note somewhere.”

Jisung huffed out a hopeless laugh as he began walking, making sure you were following him and never going too quickly for your pace. “You know, people here don’t send birds, we use phones,” he commented. “You should probably invest in one.”

You grimaced, reaching into your pocket and pulling out an old smartphone. You showed it to him, waved it, and said, “I do have one.”

The look of betrayal Jisung flashed you was dramatic at best. He looked like you just told him you hate puppies and that you have purposefully run over a few with your nonexistent car. You rolled your eyes at him, not really in the mood to deal with whatever stunt he planned to pull about you having a phone and not telling him so you just handed the device to him.

“Just add your number in,” you said.

He grinned as he snatched your phone away from your hand. He examined it initially, his brows failing to hide a judgemental scrunch when he realized what year the smartphone came out. He was quick to disregard that as he unlocked your phone; he wrote a mental note to himself to remind you to give your phone a password. 

You could hear his excruciatingly obnoxious typing sounds, and you prayed for your phone’s poor screen. After he was done, Jisung called his mobile to make sure he made no mistake before handing it back to you. His grin was cheeky and wide. It seemed like he was up to no good.

You turned it on to check for your contacts. It wasn’t hard to find him. With no relatives or friends, you only have a few essential numbers stored in your phone, like your boss and co-workers. But the thing that made his contact pop out the most was the name he set for himself. It left an immediate frown on your face. 

“Best friend Han?” You questioned, blinking at the red heart emoji sparkling next to his name.

“Mmhmm.” He nodded as he showed you his phone. “I put your name like that too, my best friend!”

You looked at his phone, a fit of giggle bubbling up threateningly when you saw the same red heart next to your name. “Do you add hearts to everyone’s name or are you just weird when it comes to me?” you asked when he retreated his hand to look at his screen.

He innocently scrolled at his phone and puffed out his cheeks. He let his cheeks stay jutted out with a pursed smile as he shook his head. “No, it’s just you. And it’s not weird, it’s…” He told you, his eyes rolled up to the sky as he thought for a while. “I don’t know what it is. I just felt like doing it.”

The hysteric laughter that once surfaced reduced to small, gentle hiccups of joy under your breath. That was a very Jisung thing to say; impulsive, but somehow it worked out in his favor, and the impulsivity brought you solace due to how closely you related it to him. Putting your phone back into your pocket, you nodded at him as a simple response.

You two shared a moment of silence. For once, Jisung chose to delay a topic of choice and instead enjoy the laid-back sensation where both of you walked quietly down the street, presumably where the bus stop was since you hadn’t raised the idea of teleporting both of you back to his home yet. You, too, enjoyed not having to constantly think of something to say despite rather liking how chattery Jisung has been with you so far.

“So…” It took Jisung a while to clear his throat and break the silence. You perked up at his voice but didn’t turn to look at him. “How’s your day been? How is work?”

You were quick to shrug in response. “Normal. Nothing special happened. I did my job and stayed away from people when I could.”

“That’s not very fun.” Jisung frowned. “You should at least try to befriend other people, you know? They might be able to help you down the line.”

“I don’t like asking for help,” you pointed out honestly, causing him to laugh.

“I know. I learned it the hard way,” he muttered to himself, faintly throwing a smile your way but you weren’t paying attention to him.

“What about you? I’m sure there is plenty of juicy drama circling a high school?” you asked after clicking your tongue in mild annoyance, quickly turning the topic on him.

“I’m not a very big rumor person so I don’t know anything about that,” Jisung said with an innocent shake of his head. He then slammed a fist to his palm upon thinking of what happened during lunch, and suddenly his excitement spiked. “Oh, my friends told me they saw us together this morning and they asked me about you!”

Your eyes widened in amusement as you looked over at him. You fidgeted your fingers and asked, “What did you say? You didn’t say anything stupid, right?”

“Of course not! Why would I do that–wait, hold on,” Jisung paused with squinted eyes. He looked at you, a weak finger pointing up at the sky and then at you. “Why do you care if I said something stupid? That’s not like you.”

You stared at him innocently. “What if you spill my secret?”

His jaw slowly dropped as he processed your words. The light came back into his eyes and he made a noise of acknowledgment, a silly grin appearing on his lips as he laughed out the embarrassment.  He initially thought you cared because you might have fancied one of his very attractive friends, and somehow, the thought didn’t sit well with him. But then he remembered: you have never met any of them before, so how could you? 

“You should have some faith in me. I might talk a lot but I never reveal any classified information!” He patted his chest to emphasize how trustworthy he was, a move that did nothing to convince you, but he thought it was cool, so he did it anyway. “But really, though, I didn’t say anything. They just kind of guessed who you were, and I never responded.”

You huffed out a laugh. “What does it look like we are? We’re friends.”

“My friend Hyunjin saw you brush my hair, and he thought it was evidence of something more intimate,” he said. “He was all up my ass about it. He even guessed if we’re soulmates, and then Seungmin had a whole pessimistic debate with Felix and it’s just all messy!”

You laughed in bewilderment, not so much at what Seungmin and Felix were debating about but more so at what his friend had suggested you two to be. Soulmates were not a foreign concept to magic-wielders; the concept itself came from one of your kind and anonymously traveled over to the fictional world of normal people. But to think that you and Jisung were predestined to meet each other and, in some sense, like each other was not plausible to you.

Besides, non-magic wielders having a magic-wielder as a soulmate was rare, if it even happened.

Jisung had looked at you weirdly when you laughed. He waited for you to explain what about it you thought was funny, and you gave him a quick shrug.

“I think I would know if we’re soulmates, Jisung,” you said, slapping a hand to your hip and shaking your head. “Ahh, soulmates… that is hilarious. I will never understand why you people make such a big deal out of it.”

Jisung tilted his head to the side. His opinion on soulmates has always been neutral. It was certainly a romantic idea; to have one special person created just for you. Truth be told, Jisung secretly yearned for a love similar to the ideals that soulmates hold—a bond so strong that two people can feel each other constantly, an understanding so special that two people can tell what the other is feeling without the need for words. 

A conditioned unconditional love that lasts across time and space.

It was a great idea because it wasn’t real, and it rarely happens. Jisung would love to experience it if he was given the chance. But the idea of soulmates just didn’t feel real enough for him to make a big deal out of it. It could be true, but so far he hasn’t been shown evidence that it was.

“People think it’s romantic,” he told you. “It’s also an out-of-reach idea, and people tend to go after unavailable things.”

“It’s not out-of-reach,” you said. “Most of us can find our soulmates with magic. For me, I can find them just by following my fate string.”

Your casual tone should not be paired up with words like those. Widening his eyes in surprise, Jisung turned to you quickly and he asked, “Wait–so it’s real? Like soulmates are an actual thing?”

“They are. Everyone has a special person, Jisung. People aren’t creative enough to make up such a vivid concept, it had to came from somewhere,” you informed, crossing your hands in front of your chest. “But it’s not that big a deal, though. There are a lot of cases of soulmate rejection.”

“Oh, I’ve seen those in stories before.” Jisung snapped his fingers in acknowledgment as if he had found a solution to a world crisis. 

“Good, so you aren’t one of those who believe soulmates have to love each other,” you muttered before looking up at him. “Soulmates are a little different than what you might expect. The red string they share actually stores the feelings and memories. The stronger the feeling, the stronger the string is, meaning the more magical it is. If you never share any memories or feelings with your soulmate, it’s just a string.”

He nodded at the newfound information. How he wished he could tell Felix all about this! That freckled boy would be so energetic (and probably a little smug) to hear that soulmates are, in fact, a real thing. Jisung could almost hear the disbelieving scoff in Seungmin’s voice, bright with retorts despite having the blatant truth mapped out in front of him.

“You can store magic in your string?” Jisung asked suddenly then, trying to keep the conversation going.

You nodded at him, and then you shook your head in thought. It was a rather complicated concept, but it also wasn’t. There were a heaping amount of interesting cosmic laws to how soulmates work, and you didn’t know where you could begin explaining it. 

“Yeah, it’s so soulmates can help each other out in desperate situations. It is a form of magic that even non-magic users can, I guess, subconsciously utilize,” you said. “Obviously, normal people don’t actually get to cast a spell with it because you guys know no spells. But, when soulmates are together, the string acts as a shield to fend off bad luck or accidents. Those things.”

The soulmate string links two people together. The more in love with each other soulmates are, the stronger the magic is. It is, however, not tragedy-proof. There will always be death within the laws of the universe; the Cosmo feeds off of the human soul because it needs energy to protect those it chooses to stay alive. Love is great but it is not above the truth, and the truth is that everything comes to an end. 

The soulmate string cannot prevent death from happening. It, in turn, causes it—when one dies, the other goes shortly after. But it also does not. The most humane thing about that was its voluntary occurrence. People choose to fade. When a spouse dies, the other spouse soon follows. When a best friend dies, the other best friend soon follows. When a child dies, the parent soon follows. 

The human spirit yearns so hard for their other half that death becomes voluntary. That is what makes soulmates a big deal, you supposed.

“Magic needs to go through a certain medium, like how I have to use my strings to manifest my magic,” you added. “When an emergency comes, the soulmate string can be our last resort. It’s never really used, though, since that requires breaking the string and transferring the magic.”

Jisung raised a brow, getting more and more intrigued with more information. He asked, “I suppose something bad happens if you break it?”

“I don’t think it’s too bad. The person who breaks the string will be forgotten by their soulmate, that’s all.” You shrugged. ���Since the magic builds on your memories and feelings, when you break the string, you just release everything and set them free.”

“What? Why would they do that!” he exclaimed. 

“Magic has consequences,” you replied. “You get one good thing and another bad thing happens.”

Jisung shivered. That took a dramatic and miserable turn. It would make an interesting story plot but knowing that it could happen in real life made him feel an unknown sense of fear. The complete memory erasure of an important person, all the unknown feelings of nostalgia that always caused pain to him… those would bother him. 

Glancing at you, he blinked to himself as the thought of how you could have easily just erased yourself from him floated into his head. He wondered why you never chose to do that even though you didn’t start out being fond of him at all. And he felt glad that you still hadn’t tried to do that to him yet. He hoped you never would. It would be a shame to forget about you completely.

“You can see who your soulmate is, right?” He suddenly asked, both wanting to break free from the negative thoughts and because he was curious.

You hummed a little, bringing your right hand up to your face and glaring at your pinky finger. The red tie slowly appeared in your sight and you scoffed. Never have you ever obsessed over such a trivial thing before, it had always just been a long strand of string to you and nothing more. Whoever was at the end of it likely never cared as well, since they never tried tugging at it.

“I can. I just never looked for them,” you said.

“Oh… can you see who my soulmate is?” Jisung asked then.

You rolled your eyes a little and turned to him with a faint groan. Reaching out to grab his hand, you held his finger gently and waited before the red knot appeared around his pinky. You pinched the thin string carefully, your eyes widening in surprise when you saw the bright redness coursing through the lining of it. The vibration surrounding it was strong, which either meant their mutual feelings for each other were strong or that his soulmate was near.

“There is magic in here,” you said, shifting your gaze to Jisung. “You’ve not just met your soulmate. You've built a relationship with them.”

“I have?” Jisung whispered out in anticipation.

His heart picked up its pace suddenly at the knowledge that he had brushed shoulders with his soulmate before. His mind raced to check past all the faces he’d met and interacted with before, and he tried to guess who his soulmate could possibly be as best as he could. 

This had just gotten exciting; the suspense was slowly killing him.

“I can try to pull at the string but if it gets too long, we’re not going to follow it to the end,” you said, carefully grabbing a hold of his fate string with your fingers. Glancing up at him, you warned, “Don’t come crying if the universe made the wrong choice.”

Jisung nodded. He watched you intently as you continued to pull at the string, going at a fast pace until you abruptly came to a stop. You huffed out in frustration, unsure why the string was not leading you anywhere. It usually should, especially if the soulmate was standing at a distance. Jisung’s string felt in place as if it got cut off somewhere and was no longer attached to someone from a far distance. 

With furrowed brows, Jisung tilted his head and took a step closer to you, his voice urgent as he asked, “What is it?”

You blinked at your hand as you continued to pull at the string. Eventually, you made it to the last millimeter of the string just to find a knot attached and burning at your own pinky. Confusion clouded your mind for a second before it was replaced with disbelief and refusal. You let go of the string and grabbed onto Jisung’s hand, then you dropped his hand and raised your own, pinching your fate string instead and pulling at it.

Jisung stared at you with a troubled expression. Concern was etched on every part of his features as he watched you rapidly pull on your soulmate string until, all of a sudden, he felt a strong pull at his hand. He lurched forward towards you at the impact, his eyes widening in the process. That was when his surroundings came to a magical halt. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

Time stopped, literally, just within the atomic spaces you two stood on the street near his school. Fateful magic creased up both of your skin, yours shedding from your blood to travel through the red string to him so he could see what a magic-wielder could see; a long, bright red string surrounded you two in a multiple loose circles, creating a bubble. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

Jisung glanced down at your hand and back up at your face, where you looked more shocked than ever. He finally understood why he got pulled forward and what the messy map of red string he briefly saw in the air when he got closer to you meant. He finally understood the constant, special pull he felt towards you. Those electrifying feelings he kept feeling when he was with you.

“Are you… are we soulmates?” Jisung asked, anticipation flooding into his brilliant eyes.

You gulped with a nod. “Yeah, we are.”

He broke into a slow smile then, his chest heaving in excitement. “That’s great,” he said. “That’s exciting.”

“It is?” you asked incredulously, a reaction Jisung wasn’t quite expecting but he was suddenly too fond of the idea of soulmates for him to nitpick at your less-than-happy expression.

“Of course!” He beamed. “Because I really like the universe’s choice.”

The ticking of the clock was getting rather annoying. You couldn’t sleep. It was not because of the clock. You just needed something to blame your insomnia on aside from that messy head of yours. Shifting your weight on Jisung’s bed, you turned to the other side and scooted closer to the edge. 

You peered down at the floor where Jisung slept, your hands unconsciously bringing the covers up to your chin.

He slept in a curled-up position with a thin blanket draped over his small frame, giving you the false sense that he might be shivering from the cold night. Jisung was not a loud snorer; you could still hear his breathing from up on the bed, but it was nothing too distracting. It's not distracting enough for you to blame your lack of sleep on, at least.

Seeing him so fragile and small made you feel guilty.

Slowly and surely, after deciding you needed a breather, you got off the bed and tip-toed out of his room, not before taking a long strand of blue string for yourself. Heading to the living room, you quietly slid open the glass door leading to the balcony and stepped out onto the cold tiles. You sucked in a long breath as you propped your elbows on the fence, taking in the chilly air and letting them bruise your lungs like drugs and alcohol.

After discovering your soulmate ties, your first reaction was not the best you could muster. But, you were usually so good at hiding emotions you thought would harm others and, thus, a disadvantage to you. For some reason, your inability manifested at the most important time; supposed anxiety does make performance worse.

Your anxiety was not the only fault. The more time you spend with Jisung, the more he removes your default need to hide in plain sight. Self-expression became easy and normal, and Jisung has made it so that you were expected to be embraced through all the flaws in your demeanor and opinions. It has gotten to a point where when your first reaction to having him as your soulmate was fear, you just immediately showed it to him.

He didn’t seem visibly upset about how you were unsatisfied with the universe’s choice. All he did was smile and beam that he has you as a soulmate. Yet, even then, some of you wondered if he was mad at you. Or if he was disappointed, at the very least. 

Crazy how you two could do the same thing, but while you lied for yourself, Jisung lied solely for others.

That was just one of the many reasons that weighed down on why you didn’t want him as your soulmate. Your selfishness, instinct to protect yourself, tendency to feel annoyed, suspicion and insecurities, lack of desire to experience human interactions, and so on.

You’ve created an uncountable list of negative traits you possessed within two hours of laying on Jisung’s bed because you needed something solid to think about, not just bits and pieces as to why you do not deserve Han Jisung as your soulmate. Not as measly as that, everything that has happened to you and your family was somehow deserved, it seemed. You didn’t have the power to change your inherent characteristics, which was the consequence. 

Standing straighter, you counted the seconds you inhaled and tapped your finger against the vinyl rail to remind yourself you needed to release the air slowly. Your heart calmed down, but your chest still had an exhausting slump. The cosmos could make no mistakes; your life was supposed to be this tragic. You were unlucky and bad, and that was the end of it.

Your eyes traced across the night sky and the bright buildings. The empty air hit your ears with a gift of white noises of sounds that traveled from the alive souls of others. Among the chatters you could faintly hear, you remained silent as you always have, with no soul to confide in. Despite all the people that surrounded you, you were ultimately alone within. Nobody could truly understand; the one person who could hasn’t been awake in ages.

A shy tear rolled down your cheek, and you huffed at yourself, reaching up to wipe it away as more rushed to your waterline in hopes of welcoming their escape. You pursed your lips together and faced skyward at the ceiling, forcing down a shaky breath only to feel a croaked sob claw up your throat. Too much was happening in your head, from revisiting your past for Jisung to you suspecting he was probably mad at you.

This was bad, really bad. After keeping your feelings on a down-low, you knew very well that the tears would start flooding once you break out of moderation.

You should fly for a while, you urged yourself. You should jump off the balcony and float for a little. The sky had always cradled you as one of its own, and the ocean had always hugged you as her child. Nature was your second mother and then your first after your own passed. You had slept in trees and sung to the moon. If you wanted to calm down, you should fly. You would feel safer with the clouds.

Rubbing your eyes, you hoisted on the balcony fence and balanced your body to stand still on the thin railing. The wind brushed against your body, causing Jisung’s thin shirt to stick closely to your skin. The wind seeped through the fabric, grazing you with cold. You prepared the blue string in your hands, which makes you weightless, and you closed your eyes. 

You tried to ignore the droplets rolling down the corner of your face, but the crying didn’t stop. It never stops. The pain just keeps going, possibly until exhaustion takes over you.

From your past experience of flying, you liked to chant the spell while falling through the air. The thrill was addicting to you. Despite the constant protest of your teachers and family members, you continued to do it, and you have gotten used to it now. Your shoulders slumped with an exhale as you prepared the spell with your strings, and then you poked one foot out into the air after you finished the initial spell-casting phase. 

Just as you were about to fall forward, a pair of hands harshly gripped at your ankles, yanking you back to the ground with a huge thud. Jisung scrambled across the floor, ignoring the pain that expelled from his back when he fell with you on top of him.

He couldn’t see straight; only the vivid image of you standing on the balcony fence haunted his knowledge. The instant he has you all forgotten. He knew not that you could use magic or assume that you knew how to fly. All he knew was that he needed to feel you in his arms. He needed to know he pulled you back from falling and that you were safe with him.

His arms fussed around the air, desperately searching for your form before he grabbed a fistful of your shirt and tugged you to his chest, hugging you with every ounce of strength he had. The previous grogginess slowly began to vanish. It was slowly coming back to him now. 

He thought you woke up to get a glass of water, but you had been gone from his bed for too long to just be getting water. When he decided to leave his warm cocoon, he remembered seeing you tipping your leg forward into the sky and how it brought him a sense of panic he had never felt before.

It wasn’t the usual paranoid nervousness, something most anxiety-prone people would feel daily. It was not the ones that would surface when it was his turn to do a presentation in front of a class or when his mother found a loophole in his array of lies about failing the Math test. This felt like spikes growing from within his ribs, penetrating his body, and there was nothing he could do aside from waiting for the impending moment of his heart being pierced through. 

This was genuine fear. The second he was introduced to the concept of losing you, all Jisung could feel was terror. And then it was the resolution that if you did, in fact, not know how to fly, the next person going off the building would be him.

“What were you thinking?” he asked shakily, still pressing you close to him despite his arms aching from the overuse of muscles. “Wha–what the hell were you doing? You–you can’t do that.”

Your brows furrowed because you were unsure why he acted this way. But then it hit you that he probably couldn’t see the string across your fingers, so his mind just aimed for the worst. You tried to pull away then, to give him an explanation that you knew how to fly, but Jisung refused to let you go as he whined out a panicked sob.

“No, don’t! Don–don’t,” he stuttered, burying his face to your shoulder as he so desperately needed to feel you with him. Starting from your body to your scent, he had to latch onto you to calm himself down. “Please.”

You licked our lower lip in a troubled manner. Jisung was agitated, and it was not in his usual energetic way. You found it harder to deal with him when he was like this since it was an unfamiliar sight to you. You never counted on him to be at a loss for words or on the verge of breaking down. Therefore, you opted for the best thing you could do for him—let him hold you until he feels better.

“Jisung, I’m not…” You exhaled carefully. “I’m not trying to do that.”

The calming process was slow. You could feel his shoulders heaving slower now, but even then, it seemed like Jisung had no plan of letting you go anytime soon. And you felt okay with that. You could stay where you were for a while longer.

“You don’t have to worry. I promise I am not trying to jump off,” you said with your hand on his head, patting him gently to ease him down further.

“Why… why aren’t you sleeping? It’s so late,” he asked with a muffled voice, seeming to slowly relax into your caressing touch.

“I felt a little overwhelmed, Jisung. A lot of things happened recently, and my lifestyle completely changed,” you replied. “I just came out to have a breath of fresh air… and to think about things, that is all.”

He sniffed, turning his face to press his cheek against your shoulder. You smiled at its softness, feeling wet tears staining your skin, making your own rush to your eyes. You were sure Jisung was the first person to cry for you, and that thought touched you more than it baffled you. 

“I’m sorry I acted weird when I found out you were my soulmate. It was not my intention,” you confessed to him, feeling the impulsive rush that you needed to do it now when the timing felt right. “I thought the universe made an incompetent choice and got a little mad. You have such a good heart, Jisung, and I think you deserve so much better than having me.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes, his breathing hitching in his throat. Disbelief riddled his senses—how dare you say that about yourself? You were such a strong individual to have continued even after what has happened to your family and yourself, and you have been so endearing to him with your hidden smiles and playful bickers. If the roles were reversed, Jisung doubted he would survive it.

You don’t even know how much he adores you, from your spirit to your presence.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized. “This is all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t. Nothing is,” he mumbled slowly, shaking his head and finally deciding to pull away to look into your eyes. “You just had to find a way to release yourself. I’m not going to blame you for doing that.”

Neither was anything that happened to your family. You never chose to be born into that position, nor did you choose that people possess such cruelty against each other. This was all the universe’s doing. This was all God’s doing if he even existed. Everything that has happened to you was just an unfortunate tragedy that he—a cruel man—could have let happen to anyone else or just not happen at all.

“But please give me a heads up next time you do something like that. I love you, and seeing that just then scared the hell out of me,” Jisung blurted out. And even when he saw how you reacted to his confession, which was to freeze on the spot and stare at him judgementally, he did not attempt to back down.

It was true. He was only being honest. Was it a little too early for him to say that? Perhaps, but what are the standards for human affection, anyway? There is none. There is never any standard. Love is blind and ignorant in the face of time; it has always been. Sometimes, you just have to shoot your shot and believe in yourself. Sometimes, you just have to trust that you are in love with someone and that it will last for eternity. 

“Yeah, I said it. I love you! There, I said it again! I love you, and… uhh, yeah! I love you!” Jisung declared, his eyes glimmering with affection when you begin to soften at his antics. 

A smile slowly moved up his lips, the force he had always felt in his chest magnifying as he looked at you fondly. He wondered what the string looked like now. Would it be vivid with redness? Would it be rich and overflowing with love? Would it become so powerful that it could save a city of people if a hazard occurs?

Jisung has quieted down now. The calmness solidified when he faced you with care. He leaned his torso forward tentatively, hesitation riddled in his movements as he inched closer and closer to you. For a moment, he thought your lips would touch if he didn’t change his mind. But he altered his action and bumped his forehead against yours instead. You nudged at him with a hearted huff, smiling. 

He closed his eyes to feel your presence. When he spoke again, his voice came out as a whisper. 

“I don’t want any other soulmate but you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Words have never been your strong suit, especially when it was a reply to a confession that Jisung made so shamelessly. Or screw that. Receiving love has never been your strong suit! It was a habit you had been unaware of after the death of your family. How were you supposed to react to someone who throws verbal affection at you? Laugh? Accept it with the same amount of love? You have not a single idea.

But his lashes were wet, and there were faint trails of tears down his chubby cheeks. It warmed up a smile on your face. Your heart felt more cradled than ever at the sight of his vulnerability. Perhaps you were never too good with words, but Jisung would understand, and you felt it was okay to resort to the second-best thing you could do.

The second best thing to show that your heart was filled and your loyalty was now tied to you and to him. Your hand moved up to his face, and you stroked the dry line on his soft skin, causing Jisung to glance up at you in surprise. Innocence filled the glimmer of his eyes while his mouth went agape at the unexpected action. He had only seen your gaze so celestial like this when you thought no one was looking: bright, loving, filled with the tender light of each star visible in the sky. 

He squeezed his eyes tightly in one bashful swift when you leaned forward to plant a featherlight kiss on his brow, somewhere close to his temple and the corner of his eyes.

“Thank you,” you said as you pulled away.

Jisung’s eyes flickered around his surroundings, his cheeks fluttering with a nice pinkness your friendly kiss sent him. He hadn’t got the time to think properly. He could only remember how soft your lips felt and how, surely, the spikes in his chest had pierced through his heart happily from that brief moment. 

His heart will bleed for you. He just knows it. He could suffer for you, but the suffering would be kind and gentle because he had done it for you. 

“Of–of course…” He lowered his head, a wide smile hidden.

If it wasn’t for Jisung, you would probably be lying on a rooftop somewhere, stargazing freely and flying without a care in the world. It was good back then. You enjoyed the freedom. Now, you could almost safely say you have a place to return to. You have someone who would look out for you, cry for you, sit under the night sky, and hold your hand until you both get tired.

Now, you have Jisung.

It was good back then, and it was much better now.

“Okay, the next thing you do is loop your fingers through here. You just go under section five with your thumb and pull it all the way back to section one,” you instructed while demonstrating to him how you could make the symbol for a healing spell.

Jisung had suggested having you try riding the bus to school (or to work) after the many times you teleported you both there, leading to him having extra minutes of sleep. It was mainly because riding the bus could give him so much more time to spend with you, but he kept claiming that it was to make sure you get the full high school morning experience, which to him simply consisted of waking up late, rushing to get his morning routine done, and meeting with you by the door completely untidied. 

Halfway through the bus ride, he finally remembered to bring up the topic of your magic—how it works, where it came from, what kind of systems there are, and so much more curiosity exploding in his head.

“Do you know if your family is the only household that uses string magic?“ Jisung asked as he kept his focus on the pattern on his hands.

After much convincing, he got his hands on one of the strings you had stuffed in your bag. While knowing that the magic would not work on him since he wasn’t born with the blood to activate it, he still wanted to fulfill his curiosity and learn a thing or two about it. He also wanted to earn some bragging rights about knowing how to make such complicated patterns with just a simple string, but you didn’t need to know that.

“No, there are other families that use string magic as well. My family wouldn’t run a magic string company if we were the only ones using it,” you replied. “But I am sure we are the only ones who use it like we do.”

Jisung nodded. “So magic is divided into categories.”

“Yeah, you can say that!” You nodded in agreement. “String magic is, by itself, a whole category. Each category possesses sub-categories that show the different ways people use magic. For my family, we utilize string figures and spells. Each bloodline possesses a uniqueness that allows the person only one kind of magic, and–“ You paused shortly when you looked at his hands. ” “No, Jisung. You move your index finger over circle two in section three.”

The boy groaned faintly under his breath, the tip of his tongue poking out in concentration as he delicately moved his fingers in fear that he would make a mistake and cause the whole build-up to crumble. You beamed at him when he successfully mirrored the symbol on your hand, causing him to sigh in accomplishment.

“Finally!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up due to the impulse of the moment. And as his face morphed into one of shock, he quickly lowered his hands and made sure he did not ruin the pattern. “How fast can you usually do this?”

You looked at the green string around your fingers and hummed, tilting your head to the side. You have not thought about a time frame in a while. After learning all the base patterns that exist as the first step in every pattern, you never really thought about how fast or accurate you have been making the string figures. You could do it with your eyes closed and at a quick speed. 

“Well, this is a more complicated symbol since this is a really big spell, so this will normally take me a second longer than usual,” you replied. “But for the easier spells, no more than a second. My family made me practice a lot when I was younger. My family does have a reputation for being one of the more resilient magic users. We think quickly, and we act quickly!” 

Jisung gasped in awe, nodding his head in approval. What took him a full, twenty-minute journey to school to do could be done by you in under seconds! Somehow, it made him feel proud to know that you mastered such a complex skill. He wondered how you would find in normal academics; would Mathematics be your strength? 

“What is this spell for?” he asked, staring at it with intrigue as he wriggled his fingers, imagining how it would feel if he had the magic to use it.

“This is a healing spell. A very strong one, like giant gashes and bullet wounds,” you said. “The stronger ones tend to fix you immediately, so there is no need to go to the hospital. The medium spells usually patch big wounds, so you can buy time to get help.”

“Oh…” Jisung nodded before he looked at you with furrowed brows. “Have you guys found the cure to cancer yet?”

“Jisung, we do magic, not miracles.” You rolled your eyes with a snorted laugh. “We can buy some time and alleviate pain, but I think regular medicine and chemotherapy also do the same thing. Except you guys pay thousands of dollars for it, and we just…” You looked at your hands and grimaced with a mutter, “Do it ourselves?” 

“Imagine! DIY cancer treatments!” He hollered out a laugh, almost doubling over dramatically, but thought better of it because of the fragile string woven between his fingers. “If someone invented that, it would cost thousands for us to have one kit.”

“Hey, maybe someday they will figure it out,” you said. “And I promise I will learn it so you can grab a free ride through me.”

“Or maybe you will figure it out! These strings feel very trustworthy,” he joked, arching his brow at you as a bashful smile appeared.

“Sure. Hello, I’m [Name], the cancer cure founder,” you joked grimly, looking at your hands. “If my own people didn’t take me out years ago, your government will.” 

After a moment of thought, you finally let go of the patterned string. You stared at the shimmering line, the sun bouncing off the celestial lights printed on the material, and you felt your eyes glass over with nostalgia. It looked just like the way it was when your parents first introduced you to it. It was such a shame that you could never look at the strings with the same amount of delight you used to anymore.

“I can’t even cure my uncle, not to mention cancer.” You shoved the string back into your pocket and crossed your arms.

It was a fatal flaw of yours: your lack of knowledge.

Magic is diverse. Like the skeletons in every family’s closet, every bloodline utilizes a category of magic uniquely, and each family within the bloodline will have a slightly different variation of the craft. You have not learned enough about other types of magic to fully understand how to defend yourself and others from it.

A simple spell is still a unique spell. Sometimes, the simpler it is, the harder it is to understand. If you never learn in-depth about other categories of magic, you will have difficulty reversing them. 

Unfortunately, that was the case with your uncle.

Jisung frowned, his arms lowering in front of him at your dejected state. He still could not imagine, and he knew he never would be able to imagine how it feels to have to constantly worry about a bedridden loved one from across a city, one that was filled with people trying to exploit your life.

He supposed he couldn’t have helped you any better, but he sincerely wished he could have at least been there for you. He blamed it on the universe for messing up. How could it put you both in different worlds but still tie your fate strings together? How dare the universe let his soulmate suffer so much without his presence there for moral support?

“I’m sorry I can’t help with that,” Jisung muttered, gaining your full attention. His steps slowed, and he looked at you, a serious expression replacing his once goofy smile. “And I know this isn’t my fault, but I never got to say I’m sorry for not being able to be there for you when everything happened.”

It just made him feel so frustrated. You escaped your city years ago, yet somehow, you two have never crossed paths. He could have given you a home earlier. He could have helped shoulder your survival responsibilities earlier. He could have done so many things for you, but he wasn’t able to, and he didn’t. And even though he was not at fault, he could not help but feel incompetent somehow. He resented his past for not having you in it.

“Jisung, this isn’t your fault.”

“I know,” he said, gulping down a knot. “I just wish it could have been my fault. That way, I might have been able to do something about it, at least.”

You bit your lower lip. God, Jisung is so lovely. He is so damn lovely. His voice, his heart, his attitude, and everything. He was just born with it, wasn’t he? He was just born precious as such, with immense empathy and the capacity to care and love like no other.

And anytime it would dawn upon you that you got the privilege to experience how tender he has learned to cradle one’s heart and how you could now laugh in a world where he exists right next to you, you just freeze with a mindful pull in your chest. Your heart falls to your sleeve, beating at the sight of him, beating for him.

And you love him. You do love him.

“You can be here for me from now on,” you said quietly, not looking at him.

Jisung softened. These cheesy lines were starting to become less and less rare, and he was so delighted to see the progress of you becoming more and more comfortable with him. Your heart was finally settling down alongside his. He nodded enthusiastically. “I will, I promise.”

A small snort escaped from behind you both. You could not recognize the voice, but Jisung certainly could. Widening his eyes, he spun around and glared at Hyunjin, who had probably been listening long enough for him to make Jisung’s lunchtime a living hell hours later. Pink blushes quickly formed on Jisung’s cheeks at the thought of it.

“Good morning, Jisung,” Hyunjin greeted slyly.

You watched as Jisung shoved his friend on the shoulder before grabbing him by the collar and pushing him back. Hyunjin was giggling and not attempting to get Jisung off of him, clearly enjoying the moment of Jisung’s misery.

“How long have you been listening?” Jisung asked in a low whine.

“Long enough to hear you make that cheesy promise,” Hyunjin snickered. He then feigned a pout, his lower lip jutting out dramatically as he blinked his eyes until they looked soft enough to be romantic. Tilting his head to the side, he dialed his voice up and mocked, “I promise I will stay with you forever. I love you so much, oh my god–“

“I will end you right here, right now,” Jisung threatened, which didn’t feel much like a threat after he clamped his palm over Hyunjin’s mouth.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and peeled Jisung’s hand away from him. He stepped away, finally settling his eyes on you before he did a curious head tilt, scanning you from head to toe. Jisung frowned from the side, feeling the uncomfortable tension rise in his chest as you challengingly held Hyunjin’s gaze for longer than he liked. You looked rigid, like the first time he met you. 

“Stop staring,” Jisung groaned, reaching up to smack Hyunjin’s cheek and mess up his hair when he turned away to dodge the attack.

“You two are why people think students from our school are ill-disciplined.” A calm Seungmin appeared from behind the two, brushing past them and stopping in front of you with the same amount of curiosity Hyunjin showed you. After a moment of silence, he nodded. “My name is Seungmin. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“And I’m Felix!”

Your eyes widened at the shorter boy who popped up from behind Seungmin. Damn, there were just more and more of them! 

Awkwardly, you gave them both a nod of acknowledgment before you said, “My name is [Name].”

“And that one over there is Hyunjin,” Seungmin motioned over to the black-haired boy, who gave you a sweet smile as he struggled with the loose headlock Jisung was desperately trying to put him in. 

Seungmin rolled his eyes at the two, inwardly fed up with their morning antics but not having the energy to break them apart. He spent most of his time finishing multiple assignments yesterday night. He has not an ounce of energy for fun. “Those two are always on about something. They can get pretty physical with each other.”

Felix snorted at the mistranslated connotation, causing Jisung to finally let go of Hyunjin and return his attention to you three. He was frowning, embarrassment and annoyance crossing his face when he approached you again, giving Seungmin a glare in the process. 

“Can you not say it like that?” Jisung complained, crossing his arms with a scoff.

“There is nothing wrong with the way I said it. You just took it the wrong way,” Seungmin shrugged. “There is also nothing wrong with what I said. Who cares, seriously?”

Jisung grumbled under his breath, his pout more permanent now as he sulked with shrunken shoulders. He was feeling down about how Hyunjin ruined such a nice moment you two were sharing. What you said was a token of your acceptance, or at least he took it that way. You telling him that he could stay by your side meant that you had decided you would no longer suffer alone. 

But that was ruined now. Then, the rest of his friend group joined in when he could have just tried to shoot Hyunjin away so he could resume talking to you about anything.

Seeing his sudden grim state, you raised a brow and reached out to pat his arm. When Jisung looked at you, you tilted your head, your eyes asking all the questions you needed to ask, and Jisung replied the same way you asked him: with his soul leaping through the windows of his eyes. It was a conversation without words, and that alone showed a kind of bond all his friends could see had grown to be close-knit and sacred in some way.

“Oh my god, Hyunjin! I think you might have jinxed it when you said soulmates,” Felix mentioned quietly, his eyes fixated on you both when you gave Jisung’s arm another nudge to make him smile. His heart was pounding, his head wandering into a romantic space as he imagined one day when he could find someone he could talk to by looking at them.

“Again? Felix, don’t be ridiculous.” Seungmin waved his hand dismissively. “Soulmates don’t exist.”

The words hung on the top of Seungmin’s tongue, and somehow, the words felt wrong when he looked at you two again. The way Jisung was looking at you and the way he was smiling at you—Seungmin didn’t see it; he felt it. It was different. His eyes crinkled slightly more than usual, so the space within could only hold your image. His lips quirked without effort to show how euphoric he felt just being there with you.

How Jisung looked at you differed from how he looked at everyone else. And the more he looked, the more Seungmin wondered if Jisung knew that himself.

A tap on his shoulder shook him out of his thoughts, and Seungmin barely turned his head to the person in response. Felix breathed a short laugh when he saw Seungmin's gaze on you and Jisung. He was uncertain why he was suddenly so concentrated, but he knew it was something he could tease him about anyway. Felix smacked Seungmin’s shoulder harshly to gain his full attention, rolling his eyes playfully when Seungmin glared at him.

“Do you want to invite [Name] to hang out with us after school today?” Felix asked, motioning towards you.

“I don’t care. Ask Hyunjin.” Seungmin shrugged.

“Really? You stare a lot for someone who doesn’t care,” Felix responded.

Seungmin scoffed then. Whatever Felix was thinking about, which he could assume was something related to some dramatic romance, he was not feeling it. He just had a frozen moment of disbelief in what he had always thought was true: that soulmate didn’t exist. He had always been so against the idea because of what he mentioned to Felix before: people desire it when they can never have it, and there is no point in chasing over a petty ideal.

Besides, people will never love each other so strongly like that. There was no way.

“Jisung feels different, don’t you think?” Seungmin asked gently, his hands tightening on the strap of his school bag. 

Felix raised a brow and looked at his friend before turning back to Seungmin, a shrug leaving his shoulders. “Not really.”

Seungmin sighed. Perhaps it was just him and his tendency to detect changes because Jisung felt different. He was still as fulfilling and bright as he used to be, but it wasn’t just him anymore. The blinding innocence in Jisung’s eyes, the way he speaks, his gestures, and everything started to look softer, as if there were extra he could give, but he was holding back for something.

Everything about him went from shining for himself to a light that learned to accommodate somebody else. Jisung used to feel like he had all the love for the entire world, but now he feels like he has put space aside to love someone special. And it was not a mystery who that special someone would be.

“Whatever then, forget I ever said anything.” Seungmin shrugged before he marched forward to catch up with the rest, urging Felix to follow behind.

When the two finally approached you both, the first thing Felix did was strike up a conversation with you. 

“We saw you with Jisung once and have meant to introduce ourselves for a long time,” he beamed. “We never got the chance, though. And Jisung is so against us meeting you for some reason.”

“He thinks we are going to steal you from him,” Hyunjin joked with a roll of his eyes.

Amused, you arched a brow at Jisung, who groaned with a faint blush on his face. He thought the teasing would end earlier, but it had just begun. Starting with his mini crush on you when you two first met each other to the strong affection his feelings have gradually blossomed into now. He knew he would not be getting out of his hellhole in a long time.

“You overestimate yourself,” you muttered, turning your usual annoyed look—the signature dead eyes and the furrowed brows—at Hyunjin.

“Hah,” Hyunjin mused with a growing smirk, completely unfazed by your lack of enthusiasm, causing your frown to deepen. Suppose optimism runs in the friend group, but in this case, it felt like a massive load of ego. 

“Anyway, we were thinking maybe you’d want to tag along with us to shop after school!” Felix asked, then he turned to Jisung, the smile on his face dimming slightly. “I hope you didn’t forget we planned to hang out today.”

Jisung clicked his tongue in annoyance, finding it very disappointing that his friend had such little faith in him. “I remember,” he replied before looking at you and whispering, “I was going to tell you about it, but I guess they beat me to it.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re gonna hang out with your friends, Jisung,” you muttered.

“Well, I mean–since we always go home together, I figured you should know,” Jisung grumbled, his mind short-circuiting as he tried to explain why he needed to tell you everything he does that did not involve you. He did realize how much he had made it seem like he was reporting to a significant other about his whereabouts, and perhaps that was what got him all flustered about it.

Seeing his friend being rendered speechless so quickly, Hyunjin rolled his eyes and let out a short scoff. He hasn’t seen Jisung like this since back in freshman year when he fell briefly—uhh, not quite—in love. Even back then, he hadn’t looked at the girl the way he looked at you today. A crush would suffice, though. Hyunjin hadn’t heard Jisung’s voice trail off that way since he had this giant crush on that senior girl.

He has been trying to find a way to get Jisung to shut up sometimes. All it took was to get him to fall in love. Maybe Hyunjin should have been more seductive in their friendship.

“Well? Do you want to tag along?” Hyunjin chimed in, stopping you from replying to Jisung. He tilted his head at you, raising a brow in encouragement, yet it felt more like a challenging stance.

“Come along! It’ll be fun, and we can get to know you more!” Felix exclaimed, snapping his fingers as if what he said was a brilliant idea.

And he was right. It could be a great idea. Expanding your social network, even if only by three people, could help you with your loneliness. Not that you have been lonely for a while now. Ever since Jisung came into your life, everything flipped upside down. You’ve got company every morning and every night, whether it was in the form of spam texts during lunchtime or messy rambles at midnight when Jisung would slip under the cover with you and just talk nonstop.

And you have never once complained about only having Jisung as a companion. He was more than enough for you and more than what you thought you deserved.

However, not only that, but having more friends could also help you with your future plans. Your nearest goal, which has been in progress for years, was to navigate away from a magical life into a human one. That would require you to suppress a very important part of your identity: being a magic user. But what needed to be done cannot be changed, and you were willing to get on an alternate track for a more comfortable life. 

(Given that waking your uncle up was a plan that has decomposed in your mind for a while now.)

You looked at Jisung, asking for his opinion. He gave you a shrug, a warm smile on his face. His friends were great people. Hyunjin might be stepping on thin ice, but according to Jisung, this is just how you two act around strangers. Him being an egomaniac and you being an antisocial, to speak on hyperbolic terms. Once you get to know all his friends, they would be just as amazing as how he knew them.

When you hesitated, Jisung gave you a small nudge on the back, encouraging you to take the invitation. Scanning all three of the unfamiliar boys, you pursed your lips together for a brief moment before you nodded. “Yeah, sure, I’ll come along.”

They smiled. Hilariously, you could assume their personality just from how they smiled at you, just like you did when you first saw them back during your little stalking period. Hyunjin held a smirk; Felix’s grin was wide, and Seungmin only pursed his lips and let his eyes speak the rest. Your heart pounded slightly as you heard Felix begin talking about his shopping plans while Seungmin walked ahead of you with him, Hyunjin following along closely.

It felt thrilling to gain friends your age once again. It made you wonder if the ones you used to have back then still remember you or if they’ve ever tried to go after you. You let out a bitter chuckle. It was unlikely. You have never been friendly enough with anybody for them to drop everything just to find you, especially when sheltering you could mean going against the city council. 

“Are you excited?” Jisung asked then, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You softened. “Kind of.”

He turned to look at you then, his warm smile still evident. “I bet you can’t wait to hang out with someone who isn’t me, huh?”

You laughed, your voice as light as feathers. Although you desperately wanted to make a joke, the swirling in your heart prevented you from doing so.

“No. I know it would be great to have a few more friends, but I don’t think I will ever get tired of hanging out with you,” you replied casually. “And just so we are clear, no one can ever take me from you.“

You didn’t look at him. You weren’t sure if you would have been able to say such embarrassing things if you were looking at him. But he was staring at you with the same look again: softened eyes and a loving smile. The look that mirrored the tender falling of first love, the chilling excitement when the first snow touched your nose. A look that screamed he had fallen in love with you all over again.

“I love you, [Name],” he whispered, the thought too big in his head that he needed to get it out of his system.

You laughed brightly. “Yeah.” You reached over to grab his hand and ran your thumb smoothly over the back of his palm, feeling his rough skin and delicate touch. “I promise I will say it back someday.”

He smiled. He’ll wait.

You pulled at your fingers as an uneasy feeling struck your chest for no reason.

You went through with the plan and joined the boys on a window-shopping spree after school. It was mostly just them chatting while they walked through a busy commercial street crowd. Occasionally, they would stop by a shop or two when they found something interesting, but more often than not, they would look at the product of interest and just whine about wanting to buy it instead of buying it.

The only one who bought anything was Felix and his boba milk tea, which everyone else had already taken at least two sips of.

The boys have been engaging you in casual conversations, hoping you could warm up to them more easily. Especially after Jisung spent lunchtime making sure they wouldn’t accidentally step over the line and warning them about you being relatively alert around strangers. You could tell they were cautious about where topics were straying, though. The way they would change subjects, or when it felt like one of them was holding back a joke of sorts, had alerted you.

You appreciated their effort and have been engaging. But while having good intentions in mind, they could not detect that you were only growing more and more anxious as time passed.

When you first met Jisung, you didn’t have anyone else you were trying to please; therefore, you had more chances to distance yourself from him. With him, it was a gradual process of becoming friends. You did not immediately click with him, you did not see him every single day, and you did not have full-blown conversations with him for over thirty minutes.

There were time lapses in between your process of getting closer to Jisung, which was what you were more comfortable with.

Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Felix were three people who kept dragging you into conversations. Seungmin was lesser than the others, you realized, but he was a pain in the ass for being so good at holding onto a conversation you deeply wanted to end. Not to mention, both of you have an argumentative nature. You were just less vocal about it. 

It may be a misunderstanding on their part that you would find silence more awkward than sounds, but it was exhausting to talk for so long with people you barely knew, especially when you were in constant fear that what you said simply wouldn’t be entertaining enough for them. They were, after all, Jisung’s friends. You would like nothing more than to leave a good impression and to make new friends, but not at such a quick pace where you need to answer one curious question after another. 

It was completely out of your comfort zone and not within your social capability. You needed to be away from them to recharge yourself, yet somehow, whenever you tried to bring that up, you found the words stuck in your throat.

These three were excellent and friendly people. You could not guarantee their reaction when you told them you needed them to shut the hell up for a second, and frankly, you didn’t want to have to say that to them.

Jisung noticed your micro-movements when you turned away to face the zooming cars out on the road. His smile faded, and concern quickly flooded into his eyes. Discreetly moving away from his friends, who were bickering among themselves, he grabbed you gently by the edge of your wrist and pulled at you for attention.

When you looked at him, he asked, “Are you okay?”

His eyes have been home to you ever since the night you told him about yourself; calming, caressing, warming. You could tell him everything he wanted to know, and you have told him everything he wanted to know. But as you caught his eyes right now, all you could think about was how much you must have burdened him for the past few weeks and how much you wanted to stop doing that.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I am just a little hungry.”

He looked at you for a while, accessing your facial expressions, and then he broke into a soft smile. 

“We can go get something to eat, I know a store just down the street,” he said before turning around and beckoning his friends over. “Let’s go get something to eat! [Name] said they’re hungry.”

Felix perked up with a nod, agreeing to the idea. Then he stretched his arm out to you, the bottle of milk tea in his hand. “You can have some of my milk tea if you want,” he said, shaking the bottle.

Seungmin chuckled as he pointed at the cup. “I think you drank all the milk tea already. It’s just boba now.”

Felix furrowed his brows as he raised his cup to glance inside. He let out a small yelp of surprise when he saw a pile of boba with the tea drained from the cup. All the weight he felt was an illusion created by the weight of the boba! Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he turned to Seungmin and whined, “You drank everything! What about me? I bought this!”

“Me? What about Hyunjin? He was holding it for a good five minutes back there,” Seungmin retorted as he shoved Hyunjin a little, looking at Felix in disbelief. 

Seungmin then turned to Jisung and pointed at him as well. “Jisung drank a lot, too! He just takes big gulps and stores them in his cheeks at a time. That’s why it feels like he didn’t drink too much, but he did!”

“I saw that too! He’s right!” Hyunjin chimed in, also pointing a finger at Jisung.

You watched them. Their tendency to start an argument over the littlest things was, needless to say, entertaining to you. Not only did it give you a chance to relax, but it also gave you free real-life drama to watch.

Amid their bickering, you relaxed a little upon the lack of attention fixated on you. Finally, you decided it would be a good time to help yourself out with some anxiety-reducing magic. You should have done it all along, but there was never the right time to bring the strings out, and you didn’t feel like lying about it.

You reached behind your bag and fished around blindly for the plastic board of strings. Your brows furrowed as you traced their bands with your finger, trying to feel their energy and find the loose ends. As you did so, you also focused on the conversation that the boys were having, which seemed to be getting more and more heated—in a playful way—as the seconds ticked by.

“You guys always drink my stuff! It isn’t just this time!” Felix complained, pouting down at the bottle with angry eyes.

“If you don’t like it, why didn’t you say something?” Hyunjin asked. “We wouldn’t have drunk it if you told us not to.”

Jisung gave Hyunjin a faint, deadpan smile. “You know Felix is a people-pleaser, right? He can’t say no.”

“So you’re saying he is a pushover?” Hyunjin snickered, causing Felix to glare at Jisung in shock.

Seungmin rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to join the argument; it all seemed pointless, and he wanted to end it as quickly as possible. “I’ll buy you one back then, you petty bastard,” he said to Felix, once again not being the best conversation killer.

Felix grimaced bitterly, unamused by Seungmin’s tone. “When you say it like that, it makes me sound like the bad person,” he said. “If that’s the case, I don’t want it.”

Hyunjin huffed out a laugh, turning to look at Jisung and shoving the boy on the shoulder. “People-pleaser, you say?”

“Oh–shut up!” Jisung groaned out, punching him back with an equal amount of strength.

Hyunjin gasped, not expecting Jisung to repeat his movements since he never really did. “No, you shut up,” he retorted, returning the punch and, thus, adding a sub-argument to this seemingly never-ending cycle of heated bickering.

You were too focused on threading a pattern with your fingers to care about what the boys were still discussing. You could hear their voices being thrown back and forth, though, just not quite the words they were saying. After all, there was no need for you to pay attention. Everything would be resolved quickly, just like all the other little quarrels they’d had the past hour about allowance money, parents, grades, and food.

As you concentrated on creating the pattern with your fingers, you found yourself growing less and less nervous when there was a complicated task. You could hear a loud yelp from Jisung and a clumsy shout from who you guessed to be Felix. After that, an array of honks came from the road just beside the pedestrian street you all stood on.

“Hey! Hey! Jisung, watch out!

You snapped your head up. That sounded urgent enough for you to finally break out of your own bubble.

Eyes trailing after the boys, who were all staring with blazing eyes toward one single direction: Jisung. His body was falling backward, presumably being pushed by someone who had miscalculated their strength, and he was close to falling to the ground below the curb when your eyes shifted up at where the honk came from.

A car was rushing forward seemingly slowly, but you knew it was only a perception problem. Your heart rate picked up, and your fingers had already started to undo the pattern on instinct. Judging by the way Jisung was falling and by the distance between him and all of you, it would be impossible for Jisung to be pulled back to safety in time.

It would either be the driver slowing down, which was unlikely, or he gets tackled farther down the road, which would be equally as dangerous as this was a two-lane street. 

Without a second thought, as the car from behind tried screeching to a pause to no avail, you jumped out of your spot and onto the road. Your hand had immediately thought of the quickest spell you could think of, tying knots and moving fingers until an easy pattern was formed. The string moved quickly as if it could feel your urgency, and as soon as it wrapped around your forearm, it squeezed your skin with a piercing ache to churn out more energy.

Jisung could feel a hand around his head, a palm pressing against his hair, and his face muffled in your chest. He could recognize your embrace anywhere and at any moment. But instead of feeling solace as he would typically when drowned in your arms, his mind was suffocating with the sound of shattered glass and a beeping engine. 

He breathed heavily, his eyes moving to glance to the side, and his eyes widened at the trickle of blood that melted down the string on your forearm.

Magic has consequences. He remembered. This was the first time he had seen it. 

The pain was relentless in its attack, spreading from your palm and breaking the top hood of the speeding car to all the exposed skin of your forearm. You channeled too much magic, and even then, it was not enough as your fingers felt numb under the impact of shielding the both of you. You’ve broken your hand with this, but the bone-shattering pain went unnoticed as you pulled yourself away from Jisung and stood up.

“[Name]…” Jisung muttered, his eyes wide at your lifeless hand as you clutched it with your functional one.

Your brows were furrowed, not registering his presence. The pain was finally starting to get to you, all after you had made sure Jisung was fine and safe from harm. Looking around, you sucked in a huge breath at the prying eyes and gossipy cameras those eyes have whipped out. And your new friends—if you could consider them that now—were all staring at you in horror, not sure of what you did or what you received as a result.

There was too much attention plastered all over the crowd, targeted on you, your bleeding hand, and your swelling fingers. It felt worse than your broken bones. You couldn’t move your hand at all without the help of the other one, and you felt your functioning hand slipping as the blood lathered itself all over your skin. The only thing keeping you from succumbing to the pain was the lingering magic sparing you an act of generosity.

Glancing back at Jisung, you huffed quietly and shook your head when he stepped towards you. “I…” You inhaled sharply, and all you could fathom to do was turn around and run for it.

“[Name]–hey, wait!” Jisung wanted to go after you, but the driver quickly stopped him, who was half concerned about your injuries and half angry that Jisung had appeared out of nowhere. 

Swinging around and swatting the stranger’s hand away, his gaze was a pit of merciless black when he glared at the driver, wanting nothing more than to run after you immediately. “Look, sir, I don’t have time to talk to–“

“Go, I got this,” Seungmin chimed in quietly as he moved Jisung to the side. He gave the confused boy a firm nod, glancing behind his shoulder at where you had run off to before ignoring Jisung’s questioning gaze and turning to the driver. He had it all figured out by now: a magic user in the land of mundane reality.  

“Jisung, we can still catch up if we run now,” Felix urged as he pulled at his hand, forcing him to move.

Jisung blinked momentarily, still trying to comprehend the situation he already knew of. He needed to process it correctly. You got hit by a car–no, you did not get hit by it. You shielded him and yourself, so technically, a crash did not happen. But you were bleeding when you ran away, and the hood of the car was destroyed–it must have been you. He did see strings on your wrist, he believed. He also saw blood, a lot of blood, which entailed a lot of pain.

Jisung breathed heavily, looking around. 

He realized you were alone. 

The strings couldn’t work with one hand.

You have never considered such a circumstance before, when only one set of your fingers works while the others are rendered completely useless. It was so suddenly presented to you that you weren’t able to think of any plausible solution aside from struggling through the pain and hoping you could somehow make the patterns work with one hand.

You remembered seeing your mother do it when she was multi-tasking around the house, so at least you could have faith that it was possible.

After finding an empty alleyway, you reached the far corner of the dark space and slid down against the dry, rocky concrete wall. Even puffs of air went in and out of your lips as you tried to regulate your breathing and not cause any more pain within yourself; the broken hand and the torn skin were hurtful enough. Glancing down at your hand, your previously steady breath came out shakier than ever upon the reddening bulge, glazed over with the pouring blood that stained the blue string.

You couldn’t feel your arm anymore when you poked at it, but somehow, the pain still lingered strong. It looked ugly.

“Okay… okay…” You kept reminding yourself as you reached to blindly a loose end of your blue string.

It was submerged with your skin entirely, you found out. Using the wrong string for a power-type spell was already bad enough, as it channeled unnecessary energy. But you had to keep using it for pain reduction to keep yourself from collapsing from the injury, causing the string to keep draining your blood through the tissues of your skin by wrapping its bladed surface tighter around your arm.

You had no other choice but to dig your nails through the gap where the string was etched into, hoping to needle out an opening for you to lose your finger through and tug the string out slowly between your flesh.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the agonizing pain when you ever so lightly pulled at the hem of the string, peeling it away. It felt like the sharp end of a blade running across your skin repeatedly, the sharp and stinging pain gutting you with each inch you take off.

The pain-reduction spell was losing its patience with you. You had less than enough blood to give.

Opting to take breaks between each little peel, your heart clenched at how hopeless you were, and a bitterly triumphant smile slowly eased its way to your face.

This situation hit home for you—being in trouble and being alone. You welcomed this eerie nostalgia, even relaxing into it so you could feel better about this situation. 

A loud exhale left your lips as you let your arms drop to the ground, your eyes roll skywards at the clouds, and your smile dimmed with satisfaction when it suddenly hit you that you could kindly take your time soothing the pain. You didn’t have anywhere else to be anyway.

Your phone suddenly rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. Letting it ring for a while, you clicked your tongue at how insistent the caller was before you fished it out of your pocket. When you saw Jisung’s name flashed across the screen, your heart halted with a stumble.

Oh god, what were you thinking? Someone out there was desperately looking for you. Han Jisung has been looking for you all over the place.

“[Name]! Where the hell are you?” Jisung’s panicked voice came out as a shout when you picked up.

“I… uhh." You gulped a harsh breath. “I mainly ran straight. You will see a mini-park when you leave the shopping area and go straight. You will see an alleyway if you turn a corner around the crossroad. I’m just far inside.”

There was shuffling on the other side. You could hear Jisung call out to his friends before he pressed his phone back to his ears, and he huffed with each step, not quite running but walking fast enough to be out of breath.

You didn’t dare hang up. He sounded angry when you finally picked up the call, and you assumed he had things to tell you. While he stayed silent to follow your direction, you held your phone between your ear and shoulder as your hand returned to business.

“You better be okay when I get there,” Jisung scolded, his mind flashing back to the bloodied arm you got before you ran away. “How could you just up and leave like that?”

“I’m sorry–“ you winced with a squint of your eye, a yelp leaving your lips when a particularly sharp inch tore at your skin.

Jisung furrowed his brows immediately, the grip on his phone tightening as he picked up his pace. “[Name], what is that? Are you okay?”

“Yeah… no, actually. But I am dealing with it,” you said through gritted teeth. “Anyway, I just got overwhelmed, and my first response was to run away.”

Jisung sighed in defeat. He couldn’t blame you for that, especially since he knew how much you hated being under the spotlight and how much the crowd drains you out. He just wished you could have asked him for help so he could have done something. He could have left with you to fix your hand, which he assumed you would much rather not go to the hospital for. But you were still in pain, and the fact that he was not there to help you was breaking him apart.

It felt like a piece of his heart just left his chest and started to roam around the world looking for you, and he couldn’t protect it. He has no idea where it would go and what would happen to it. 

“I think I’m here–oh, please be there,” Jisung muttered as he turned a corner and walked straight into the alleyway. He hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket, his legs rushing until he finally saw you sitting in the back corner.

His heart dropped at the sight of you. Hair stuck to your forehead due to the sweat, your bloodied arm still a raging color of fresh redness, and you were breathing heavily in pain as you tried finishing off with the tightened blue string around your forearm.

Jisung felt tears brimming behind his eyes as a lump of fear jumped to his throat, forcing him to let out incoherent sounds of protest as he rushed to approach you before dropping to his knees.

“No, no–what are you doing? Stop, you’re hurt–you’re hurting yourself.”

His voice came out croaked, and his hands fumbled in the air, somewhere close to yours, hoping to stop your movements. But still, he wasn’t sure if he should stop you because he knew he wasn’t knowledgeable enough.

“Jisung, I have to do this. This has gone far too deep,” you explained calmly, despite wanting nothing more than to break down in front of him. “If I try to heal it, the string will get ripped out of my skin. It’ll hurt way more than me doing it slowly now.”

His friends finally made it to the end of the alleyway then, and you could only give all three of them a firm nod before returning to Jisung.

“You can help me by making the pattern I taught you this morning. Can you do that?” you groaned out. 

Jisung nodded. “Wh–what do I have to do?”

“Just go into my bag and find a green string, the same amount I made you use this morning. You will have to make it for me because my bones are shattered,” you instructed, feeling him pause before going to your backpack.

When Jisung gave you a verbal agreement, his voice was much more watery than before. “After you make it, try slotting it onto my hand.”

Jisung was trying very hard to focus on his task. His eyes darted between his hands and you, his mind jumping between remembering what to do and feeling anxious that you were literally going through so much pain right in front of him. He felt like crying, the tears threatening to spill over little by little, but he held it in just so he could appear firmer than his heart was.

You could see him trembling from your peripheral vision as you focused on taking the previous blue string off your forearm, and you could tell by the way he was cursing that he had to start over multiple times.

Jisung was getting fearsomely frustrated that he couldn’t get the pattern done faster, and he was starting to blame himself for everything that had happened thus far.

However, no matter how much you wanted to help him out, you couldn’t break concentration on your task. You have learned to lean into the pain now. If you turn to talk to him, you will have to start over again. You just need to have faith that he remembered what you taught him.

Standing not too far behind you both were the rest of the boys. Awkwardly and unsurely, they stood close to each other and stared ahead at you both. What they witnessed just then was still vivid in their mind, but while demanding an explanation from you or Jisung, they planned to keep quiet for now at this tense minute.

“Should–should we do something?” Felix whispered after he leaned towards his two friends, his eyes focusing on the dry blood staining your skin. The continuous urge to puke lingered, and he could taste the sourness beneath his tongue. 

None of them replied to him because there was nothing to say. 

Hyunjin barely understood how you didn’t die or how the car got more damage than you did. Seungmin figured out what your identity was, but the process of realizing everything that he thought was fake was, in fact, real gave him a reality check he did not appreciate. Felix was on the verge of throwing up, both the sight of flesh and the confusion of it all contributing to his weakened mind.

All three of them were having issues of their own. How were they supposed to go about helping you out?  Besides, this whole incident happened technically because of them. This would not have happened if they hadn’t started bickering.

Jisung screamed in joy when he was finally done with the string. He smiled at it before looking at you for confirmation, but you were still trying to remove the remaining blue string.

Furrowing his brows painfully at you, he waited patiently before you suddenly collapsed against the wall with a relieved sigh, the string dropping to the ground after you let go of it. Jisung felt the rocks on his shoulders roll away as soon as you were done.

“I did it! This is right, I hope?” he said, presenting you with the pattern.

You looked at it, your eyes squinted in thought before you gave him a faint nod.

“Yeah…” You reached your working hand out to him, your fingers spread widely. “Put it on my hand.”

Jisung blanked out then. He has only ever seen you do this with both hands! He was barely skilled at it, let alone sticking the pattern to only five of your fingers!

Shaky eyes trailed towards your face and fingers, then he gulped as he eyed his own hands—Jisung didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even begin transferring the string to your hand.

“I…”  He suddenly turned behind him and yelled at his friends. “Can you guys come and help me, please?”

The three scurried over to you quickly, kneeling by your side and wordlessly listening to Jisung’s explanation. Many suggestions were made as all four fumbled with the patterned string on Jisung’s hands, trying their best to shrink it all to fit at the tip of your fingers and use your palm as leverage. It took a while, but they finally constructed a messy string figure.

Without a second thought, you immediately cast a healing spell and palmed your bloody forearm. The pain vanished gradually, and your wounds sealed themselves up in a fading manner. The boys watched the process unfold; blood suckled back into your flesh, and your skin sewed itself together seamlessly. It was so unreal that it almost looked as if the sight was generated by a computer program.

“Oh, thank god,” you huffed out as you raised your arms in front of your face to wiggle your fingers, feeling your muscles move freely, unlike before.

Seeing your arms going back to normal, Jisung relaxed upon relief. Although the dry blood stains still served as a reminder of what had happened, he took off his schoolbag and scooted closer to you so he could move your arms away and dive right into your embrace. His arms went around your torso as he slumped down onto the ground, sprawling across it.

You widened your eyes, wholly taken back by his action. Not only did you smell like metal, but you also looked like a damn dirtbag. And all of his friends were just there, watching you both with careful eyes.

“Jisung,” you whispered. “I’m bloody, don’t do this.”

He whined with a shake of his head, stubbornly tightening his arms around your waist as he adjusted the position of his head on your chest. He reached for your previous injured hand, loosely lacing his fingers through yours and leaving it on the ground. After all that preparation, he finally stared into the distance, clearing his head to listen to your heartbeat.

It had always calmed him down to hear it. The idea that you’re alive and next to him was delightful.

A pout inched to his face when you asked him to move again because your blood could be staining his white uniform. Jisung insisted on holding onto you at the moment, and he only relaxed when you heaved a sigh and gently patted his head in defeat.

Looking up at the three boys, all with faces of confusion, you pursed your lips together. “I’m sure you three have questions.”

“No shit, we do,” Hyunjin said, his brows furrowing finally as he looked at you.

You told them everything. Almost everything, at least minor details of how your family fell to its deathbed and how exactly magic as a whole works. That could come later.

For now, it was the overall gist of what would clear their confusion about who you are, both as a magic user and as a person who has lived among non-magical people. You watched their suspicious faces turn into clear understandings of the situation.

Hyunjin was the first to stand up after silence ensued. Everyone turned to him with curious eyes, waiting for his next move, and they were all taken back when he wordlessly turned around and just walked out of the alleyway. Not protesting his action, although still unsure why Hyunjin had reacted the way he did, Seungmin and Felix both gave you and Jisung a glance before they got up and left with Hyunjin.

You sighed loudly when you knew they were out of earshot, your hand dropping from Jisung’s head to his waist.

“Do you think I scared them away?” you asked then.

Jisung hummed in genuine thoughts, not seeming to be taken aback by his friend’s actions. “No, I think we have done worse things to each other,” he commented truthfully. “They can handle this. If I can handle it, so can they.”

You breathed out unsurely, your anxiety getting the best of you.

While not quite caring how your background could affect your relationship, since you’ve always had people leave you for it anyway, you wished hard that it would not ruin Jisung’s friendship with them. For one, making him choose between his friends and you would be cruel. For two, you have second thoughts about who he would choose if the dilemma proposes itself to him.

You continuously doubt your place in Jisung’s heart. He would go insane if he knew you didn’t trust your place in his heart to be the top priority because he’s always placed you before himself. He knew that before when you two just realized you guys were soulmates. He knew when he started whispering those ‘I love you’s' differently after you fell asleep. He knew that now, with his arms around your waist and his head still pressed against your chest, refusing to let go.

If you go, he will soon follow. It is the tradition of soulmates. It is the tradition of love.

“[Name]…” His voice was muffled when he looked up at you, eyes innocently wide and sparked with sincerity. They were how he always looked at you, and they always made your heart jump with affection.

Your hand instinctively flew up to his head, playing with his hair as your eyes softened upon the vulnerable atmosphere. Jisung played with your finger, his movement bashful and shy before he held your hand and let it lay on the ground.

“I… “ He sighed. “Next time something like that happens, please don’t run away again.”

You pursed your lips together, feeling guilty about putting him through such stressful events. But the remorseful feeling vanished as soon as he spoke again.

“It scares me to not be there when you’re hurt. Even if I may not be of much help, I want to at least be there so you aren’t alone,” he explained before he looked up at you again. 

There was something in his eyes. A swirl of fluorescent light, something celestial but different than the usual ones you have seen. A kind of affection that traverses what you used to know from him. He was looking at you differently. You could tell for the first time.

“I love you so much. Please don’t do that again," he whispered to you.

And somehow, you just knew he had meant that. He meant that confession in the most loving, romantic way possible.

It wasn’t the ones he threw at you during mid-conversation, the ones he would say with a goofy smile when he made a mistake. This was real, as real as the double knots he pretended to tie on your soulmate string that night so it would not be broken, and as real as the feeling of his lips on your eyes when he kisses you goodnight, thinking you wouldn’t know.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, your eyes facing forward. “I…” You sucked in a shaky breath, but you felt ready, “I love you too.”

Jisung’s eyes widened for a fraction. He had not expected you to say it back so quickly. He thought he would have to wait a little while for it, which he didn’t mind. This was a pleasant surprise, and he hugged you tighter for it, a tender smile and a soft blush growing on his face. 

He felt childish for being so overjoyed over something so small, even though it is never something small when having your deepest feelings returned by the person of desire. You’ve got to be really lucky for the universe to time your moments right like this. It seemed like the stars loved you both enough to hand you over to each other, and how fortunate it was that they got it right this time around.

Footsteps could be heard from not too far away, and you looked up, anticipating the arrival of three boys. Felix was the first to stop before you, followed by Hyunjin and Seungmin, who trailed behind slowly. You raised an eyebrow at the giddy boy, watching as he knew, and pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small paper bag.

“We got you something!” Felix exclaimed as he handed you the bag.

He sat on his heels and watched expectantly as you pulled out a small keychain knitted into a cartoon squirrel with dirty brown strings. You couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle as you dangled it in front of your face.

This must be because you use string magic, but unfortunately, these strings would probably not do you much good due to their low quality. You weren’t supposed to separate the squirrel anyway.

Jisung snickered for a moment and shrunk back towards you when he received three glares.

“Sorry about what happened. It was our fault,” Hyunjin said. “This won’t compensate for it, but we hope you will take it anyway.”

“I paid for it, by the way,” Seungmin chimed in. “These two just found the store and picked it up.”

It was the thought that counted. You haven’t received a gift from anyone but yourself in a long time, and this one single keychain felt like ten missed birthdays mashed into one.

Giving them a smile, you held it tightly and spoke, “I accept your apology, and thank you for the keychain.”

A smile slowly blossomed onto their faces, widely and discreetly. Felix clapped his hands together, and then, with a hopeful expression, he said, “So we’re still friends, right?”

You paused in speechlessness. The thought that you were friends with them has never crossed your mind. Your position was as miniscule as being a mutual friend, and you had expected things to remain that way. But seeing Felix’s genuine smile, it seemed like these three had already roped you into the group without your knowledge, and you did not have the heart to refuse such an offer.

You nodded at them, and you felt warm on the inside. Like they just barged into your heart, bickering and laughing loudly, disregarding every aspect of you that you thought was unloveable and intolerable, and they lived with you. They just sat beside Jisung, taking up the remaining space he couldn’t occupy. You figured they would stay in your soul for as long as you could handle it.

“Great! Now, can we actually eat something–oh no, wait.” Seungmin frowned at you as he eyed your blood-stained figure. “Your shirt and arm. We can’t go outside like that.”

“Hey, I have my jersey if you want to wear it! It can cover up most of the stain,” Hyunjin suggested with a shrug. “It probably smells like sweat, though, since I haven’t washed it in a week and practiced in it every day.”

Felix removed his bag and reached for a water bottle and a handkerchief. He looked at you and hummed, “We should try washing the blood off. We wouldn’t get past the kids playing in the park, so it’s better to wash it off here.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true.” Seungmin nodded. “Or you should do an invisibility spell if you know one.”

The boys looked at you, waiting for your response. It felt like an opening to a question-and-answer segment, and it was debatable whether Seungmin had suggested the idea to offer a solution or if he wanted to watch you try out even more magic. You usually minded the curiosity, but you did not mind theirs. 

“Don’t be insane. They literally just went through tremendous pain because of using magic,” Hyunjin said, piecing the puzzle together in his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to use magic for every little thing, or at least unnecessarily.”

Everyone turned to him, shocked at his surprisingly keen observations. Seungmin pulled a face in dismay that Hyunjin, of all people, beat him to being intelligently considerate, and then he shrugged. “That’s fine. I have a body spray you can use, though. Hyunjin’s sweat smells like literal garbage.”

Jisung snorted, finally pulling away from you and looking up at Hyunjin, who glared at Seungmin with a deadpan expression.

“I thought you wanted to cover up the bloody smell.” Jisung laughed. “But yeah, totally. Hyunjin smells worse than that.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, ignoring the mindless insults thrown at him. “You know you only need three people to start a religion, right?” he urged suddenly. “There is Felix, me, and [Name]. I will literally build a Seungmin and Jisung-hating religion.”

Jisung laughed. “[Name] won’t join you.”

You shook your head as you sucked in a breath, inhaling your lips into a mocking smirk. You playfully followed along with Hyunjin’s ridiculous idea. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

Jisung widened his eyes at you then, but instead of calling you out for playing along, he turned to Hyunjin and began a string of lousy trash-talking.

You watched as Seungmin attempted to resolve the argument, only to have his quick tongue spill something distasteful to their ears and get roped into the bickering. As Seungmin got dragged into the feud, mindless insults thrown around the air like a plastic ball, Felix stepped close to you and linked his arm through yours.

“We better get going!” he exclaimed lowly, eyeing his three friends. “Or else we’re gonna get involved in all of that.”

You agreed with him silently by letting him drag you out of the alleyway. You smelt of sweat and blood, but Felix did not mind. As you two turned a corner, he inched closer to you with anticipation, to which you responded with a faint body retreat.

“I just want to ask something,” he said. “Soulmates are real, right?” 

You blinked; how could you forget? Jisung told you about Felix and his fascination with love, thus leading to his yearning for the existence of soulmates. His innocent eyes blinked, waiting for an answer. You would have lied to him anyway.

With lips slowly pursing into a smile, you nodded bashfully at him. His smile grew in miles, and he was excited and grateful for the beauty this universe has allowed to happen to people. After a beat of a second, he looked toward you and faintly squeezed the corner of your inner elbow by pulling toward his direction. 

“Do you know who yours is?” 

You told him, and he bursted into giggles when Jisung’s struggling voice traveled through the walls to find you after he realized you had been stolen from him. Felix pulled you into a jog, loving nothing more than to see his friend miserable. You couldn’t help but mirror his joy, letting yourself smile.

You have gotten closer to the three boys than you ever thought you would be. You had been meeting up with them after school, and they dragged you to different places before and after your work.

Coffee shops where you all share one cup of bitter coffee after debating for half an hour if a five-dollar pizookie was worth it. Clothing stores where none of you ever buy anything from, just hold the shirts to your bodies and think about wearing them. Pop-up art museums where you were pretty sure they only went for the aesthetics rather than the actual art.

It felt like you’ve been around the world just by spending time with the four of them. And everything they did—all the dragging you to places and waiting for you to finish with work so they could take you to hang out—was all in an attempt to give you back the childhood you should have had.

They knew they weren’t responsible for what happened to you, but as your friends, they felt it would be their responsibility to make you as happy as possible.

They even went as far as to join you at your graveyard shift after midnight once. It was an event organized by Jisung himself, and Seungmin made up the sleepover excuse so nobody’s parents would worry that their child wasn’t home yet. 

They had caused a ruckus in the convenience store that night, but it had been okay because barely anyone approached the outside world in the dead of night. They continuously purchased instant noodles and sodas until they had either tried everything in the store or started getting tummy aches from all the different food mixtures. It was an effort to keep themselves awake.

All four of them ended up falling asleep with their heads on the countertop by the start of sunrise, and you all ate breakfast in the store when your shift ended before bidding each other goodbye.

It was the closest you have ever felt to having a family. When Felix laid his head on your shoulder as he dozed off, still sipping the juice box in his hand; when Hyunjin ruffled your hair when you could finally join them by the windowpane; when Seungmin went to heat the bento box for you and stood by the counter table because he gave you his seat. 

All the minor things that made the world a little brighter for you. The small things that make up a group of people and their habits around each other make everything a little better for you.

You could not have asked for better friends.

“I knew we should not have picked today to come here,” Seungmin said as he faced the crowded area.

Most of the time, at least.

You guys have planned to visit a cat café on a whooping Sunday afternoon—well, no, Felix planned it. He made you join him by booking a table for five beforehand. Seungmin had complained about him picking the wrong date, and he was right. The shopping area was packed with people free from school and work, moving from one corner to another as they went about their last free day before the week recycled again. 

That made it harder for you all because none of you knew exactly where this café was located, and you guys were on quite a tight schedule.

“There was only today!” Felix huffed. “Hyunjin should have come earlier so we wouldn’t have to worry about being late to the reservation. We would have had time to look for the café.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in response to the accusation. “You made the reservation, Felix,” he said. “If anything, you should know where it is.”

Jisung and you shared a look before he pursed his lips and stepped between the two, his hands raised in mock defeat. With an awkward laugh, Jisung began, “Alright, let’s not fight! We can just ask [Name] to find it for us!”

You widened your eyes at him incredulously then, surprised by his suggestion. When the three boys turned their hopeful eyes at you, you only shook your head at them.

“I can’t do that,” you said. “We don’t have location spells like that.”

“What? So, what kind of location spells do you have?” Jisung asked, dropping his arms to his sides.

“The kind that finds people? Or the kind that finds places that don’t have duplicated names like ‘The Meow Café,’ ” You replied with faint disbelief.

“There is probably only one of those cafés around this area, [Name],” Seungmin pointed out.

You sucked in a breath and forced a smile at him. Seungmin was always so clever, but somehow, he was never on the same page as you.

“Right, except the strings don’t point out where it is to me so I can eliminate the places,” you said. “They pull me towards the place, meaning that if there is one of these cafés down the other direction, I will get pulled towards two different places simultaneously.”

Seungmin sighed then. It was a somewhat disappointed sigh. “That’s unconventional.”

“Phone maps that don’t work without an internet connection are also unconventional,” you retorted. “At least my strings work anytime I need them to.”

“Do they, though?” Seungmin questioned. “Because from my recollection, you said that magic has consequences. And from what I am seeing, your consequence can actually end your life at some point.”

Seungmin was about to add to his point when Jisung clamped a hand over his mouth. There was a smile on Jisung’s face, but his eyes possessed a glare. Part of him was happy that you and Seungmin’s relationship had gotten to this point where you could bicker with him as much as he and Hyunjin would. Still, sometimes he thought how much more venomous you two were in comparison.

It may be the product of you both being logical and pessimistic people. When you two argue, it is never like the silly arguments that Jisung has with everyone else.

Jisung possessed a ridiculously unserious nature that you nor Seungmin did, thus making every friendly quarrel stupid banters. You and Seungmin were both stubborn and opinionated. It was not the best combination for disagreement but was great when needing a solution. 

Jisung urged Seungmin to shut up and ensured Seungmin would comply before he was released from Jisung’s grip. Jisung turned back to stand by your side, giving Seungmin one last pointed glare to behave.

Clearing his throat, Jisung gave everyone a brief look before he suggested, “How about we split up and look for it? If some of us arrive, they can’t cancel our reservation.”

“Finally, an idea!” Hyunjin exclaimed. “I’ll go with Felix!”

Seungmin furrowed his brows as he looked at the two. When he realized he didn’t feel like joining the chaotic duo, he turned to look over at you and Jisung. He frowned more because of the petty argument you two had, and he grimaced as he took a few steps. 

“I’ll ask around by myself,” he said.

You looked away, not wanting to meet eyes with him. It was not because you felt wrong about what he said, but it was out of pure spite to act like you couldn’t care less. You were only willing to be petty about this because you and Seungmin knew this was less than it seemed to be.

It was just friendly hatred. Like siblings, a random question or an offering of food would fix the rigid tension. 

You knew he would come around eventually, and you two would be chatting again in no time, so for now, you’d wither under all the spiteful actions you could muster and prepare to apologize to him later.

After the little searching parties were formed, you all went separate in different directions. You and Jisung continued walking straight ahead while the others went on either side, where the roads opened up with more stores littered.

The crowd was still large and buzzing, causing much trouble to stick together as you walked. It was almost as if you two were stuck waiting in a queue in a theme park. Jisung kept turning his head back to glance at you, his brows furrowing more and more each time when he noticed how you seemed to get farther and farther away from him.

Soon enough, when he turned back once again, he could barely see you among people anymore. He clicked his tongue and halted his steps, his eyes darting everywhere for your face. He waited for the people to move around him, some throwing him glares for not moving while others simply moved out of his way. None of them caused him to budge from his spot until you caught up with him slowly, popping out from behind strangers.

“It’s so crowded here,” you complained with a sigh. “Felix really chose a bad day.”

He smiled faintly, giving you a shrug. “At least we can pet kittens later,” he said before looking down at his phone, a map displayed on his screen. 

He had no idea where it was bringing him to. Back then, when the group was still gathered, the map clearly showed they were at the destination despite their inability to find it. The route on the screen continuously changed to fit the illogical directions he was heading toward, and he just knew he didn’t trust it. He only still had a map out because it was better than blindly guessing where the café would be.

Putting his phone back into his pocket after he took a good look, he gave the surrounding shops a scan before he hummed. “I think we should try walking further and see.”

“Yeah, I will keep an eye out.” You nodded at him.

Before Jisung moved again, he casually grabbed your hand before walking. A silent squeal fell at the tip of your tongue. For some odd reason, your mind didn’t consider this a grand gesture even though your heart was swelling at how bold that was.

It was just to keep you from getting lost in the crowd and being separated from him. For all you knew, Hyunjin was probably dragging Felix by the hand, considering the sea of people around you. 

But it was a romantic gesture, nonetheless.

Jisung kept his gaze forward. The first few seconds of him holding your hand, he went through it with widened eyes and pursed lips, a blushy smile threatening to rise to his face. He was both surprised at his daringness and glad you kept his hand wrapped under yours. Then, he slowly got used to it. The softness of your palm no longer a foreign object of his affection and desire. 

You were close to him; you two were holding hands among the crowd, and there was that.

As you two shifted through waves of people, Jisung suddenly paused as his head turned to the side. You followed where he was looking, wondering if he had found the shop already, only to find him looking at a stationery store.

Turning back to him, you asked, “Do you need to get something?”

Jisung hummed in thought, unsure if he should wait until you guys were done with the café before coming back here to get what he needed for school. But he also didn’t want his forgetful self to remember he needed something until you both got home because a coffee shop filled with cats seemed like a nice place to get school-related amnesia.

“Kind of,” he muttered as he started tugging at your hand, bringing you out of the main street and to the side where the shops were.

“It’ll just be a minute,” he said when you two were at the entrance, his thumb briefly brushing past the back of your palm as a form of farewell before he let go and rushed into the store.

You watched his back disappear into the shelves before looking away and leaning against the wall, hiding near an empty corner so you couldn’t be in people’s way. During this dull moment, you decided to glance down at your hand instead of watching people pass by, thus running the risk of making awkward eye contact with strangers. 

A small smile appeared on your lips as you squeezed your hands together, remembering the shape of Jisung’s hand in yours.

You felt like such a sap, but it was rightfully so. Everything has changed for both of you since that day in the alleyway. None of you have made a declarative move yet, but there have been moments of affection here and there; there have been many suggestive questions and dodgy replies, blatant smiles and glances, and a lot of subtle touching.

It was all pushing and pulling, not telling each other how you felt, and leaving confusing signals.

All three of your friends knew, though. Seungmin had also dragged you into confronting conversations about how you felt about Jisung (which he already knew). The conversation would quickly be halted by a distracting topic about the differences between your lives. No matter how much of yourselves you reveal to each other, there is more to learn. 

The most hilarious thing was Seungmin’s reaction toward your childhood tragedy, which you expected from someone with such strong opinions about everything. 

As you huffed out a breath of fresh air, trying to keep your mind off the sappy relationship problems (that were not real problems, really), you made a mental note to yourself that you should initiate the apology this time. Your eyes wandered off in the moment of not thinking, and quickly, you caught sight of a pair of designer shoes stopping in front of you. 

You ignored it momentarily, your brain not ready to process your surroundings yet. But you finally snapped your head up when the person refused to leave.

The irritation that masked your face faded when you saw those familiar eyes shining down at you. You paused to assess the familiarity; was it illusional nostalgia or real? Was he who you thought he was?

The man also stared at you for a good moment, having the same question as you. Realization flooded his face, and he huffed out an almost relieved laugh upon seeing your faint smile.

“Minho…” you muttered under your breath, disbelief clouding your judgment upon seeing the man who used to babysit you when your parents were off to council gatherings.

Lee Minho lived within the same residential area as you. His house was within your block, only separated by two houses. His family was also part of the council but was less long-standing than yours. Since his family was more lenient about having him be around at council meetings despite being of age to do so, he had always gotten free time to take care of you. 

“Oh my god, it is you," he gasped. “It really is you.”

“Were you searching for me?” you asked.

He shrugged solemnly. "Yeah... kind of."

"Alright," you dragged out suspiciously. “What's up?"

“What's up?” he scoffed with faraway eyes and a few nods. He was thinking, debating whether to bring up what had happened. “I have been worried about you all these years.” 

Minho was young then, but he understood the situation's intensity. He had waited for you to turn to him for help or comfort. He did take primary care of you immediately after the accident despite his parents’ protest.

You lived with him for a while; he took care of all the living expenses with his allowance and would bring you to check on your uncle in the hospital. Then you grew older. You turned ten, and the council stripped you from his protective grasp. 

You did confide in him once or twice when you were forced to be under the educational curriculum of the existing council members. Then, one day, you vanished and never returned. You just fled without telling him anything. 

“People thought you died because nobody in the council has heard from you again. I thought you died!”

You gave him a casual shrug, your lips pursing as you thought of what to say. 

He must have felt betrayed somehow. Despite everything, Minho had once been close to you, albeit you were very young and didn’t feel the need to be grateful. He cooked your meals, he tutored you with school, and he lied to your parents for you countless times. Even the trusty spell you used to hide your trails came from him when he taught you how to always win in a game of hide-and-seek.

It was a simple spell. It was easy to break, but nobody thought to break it, not even Minho. Until now, at least.

You wondered why you never looked to him for help, and it felt like the answer was already there: his family was part of the council. You knew not of the details of what happened and who schemed the entire incident, so you were unwilling to place your bets on any family.

Minho’s family was just as likely to have taken part in the murder of yours despite you knowing them as kind neighbors.

Would it directly be Minho’s fault that your family died? No, but he became a liability once the possibility that his parents may have been part of the culprit group, and you refused to take any chances. Even though he cared about you. Even though he was a great friend of your uncle.

“You need to come back, [Name],” Minho said, straightening his posture.

You furrowed your brows at him, unable to fathom how he thought that would be a good idea. Even if nobody was plotting your downfall, why would you return to the city where you lost everything? He was idiotic to make that suggestion. 

“There is no reason for me to,” you replied.

“The council still has a spot for you,” Minho said softly.

“Tell them to find somebody else,” you blurted out coldly. “I’m not interested in working for or with people who murdered my family, nor am I interested in helping them be better.”

Minho gave you a brief sigh of defeat, trying to find the right words to phrase everything. He understood. Logically, he really did. If he were in your position… well, he would probably do a few things differently, but your hatred for the council was justified.

However, things have changed drastically since then. Change was bound to happen after so long; as Minho saw it, the council would be safe.

There was no reason for you to suffer alone in the mundane world. 

“Look… it has been years. I apologize for being insensitive, but I promise the council is much different now. Most of the people who used to be there are no longer members, and most of us do not agree with what happened, nor will it be allowed again. You should give it a chance. Come back, come home. I can help you.”

You sucked in a breath. Disregarding that you could never get over what happened to your family or that only a majority of things changed and not all things, you could appreciate Minho’s determination to help you out.

But you never wished to go back to that godforsaken place, not only because of the tragic memories plastered all over that city but also because you have important things here with you now.

You built your identity in this city, found your jobs, met your friends, and found your soulmate here. You would never permanently leave this city unless the people you love are leaving it too.

“I am not going back, Minho. I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I am doing really good here.”

Minho was quick to frown at you.

“Good here?” he said, his voice suspicious and almost condescending. You have never seen him like this because you never got the chance to. Everyone around you used to be magic users. “People here can’t do what we can. You can’t explore your potential here, which is a huge waste. Remember who your family is and what they can do; don’t let all that go down the drain.”

“Who cares about my magic if I will be miserable for the rest of my life? As you said, most of the council has changed, but not all of them. I will not be safe until all of them are gone," you reasoned as you stepped up to him. “I am better here. At least no one is trying to exploit my family’s legacy.”

“Because nobody here knows who you are,” he pointed out.

You laughed sardonically, rolling your eyes in disbelief and letting your gaze linger out at the street of people. You shook your head, reminding yourself of all your friends and all the great people you have encountered. There would always be terrible people; unfortunately, the world would never be perfect. But, the greatness of having the good ones near you made it meaningful. 

You have good people around you here. You have had bad ones, but the good ones outshine them by a million miles. 

“No, actually,” you argued quietly. “People here do know me. They’re just not greedy and horrible like us.” You glared at him then, finally deciding to meet eyes with someone who you once trusted. “I can’t believe you even tried to convince me to go back. Do I need to remind my uncle is still in a coma? You know, the man who was once your close friend.”

Minho huffed, a flash of tainted guilt covering his eyes before it was replaced with unexplainable disgust. You dared to bring up his friendship with your uncle. You dared all of what you have, which was little to nothing. You knew nothing about the two of them. He knew your uncle longer and better than your measly shared blood. You had no idea how he felt about his friend falling victim to his own family’s greed. 

You were a child, and you still were despite all the hardships you have endured. You knew nothing. 

Minho was going to speak, to scold you perhaps, but his eyes shifted when a certain boy walked up behind you and tugged at your shirt. You were pulled back from Minho, a hand soon wrapped protectively around yours as Jisung threw a worried glance between you and Minho.

“What’s going on…?” he asked quietly, frowning at you.

“Nothing, don’t worry.” You waved it off with a soft smile. “He’s just someone from my home city.”

Jisung widened his eyes in shock. He was not expecting to see another magic user, especially someone with a history with you. Turning over to look at Minho, he accessed the man silently; lean, stoic, and angry-looking. Jisung wondered if something had happened or if the man was born with a stern face. His observing expression faded into a timid one when he found Minho staring at him in thought.

Minho’s eyes shifted to your hands, and he raised a brow, a smirk of contempt reaching his cheeks when he saw the faint string linking you both together. You kept talking about hating the council, but there was an even bigger reason why you refused to leave this city, wasn’t there? Your soulmate was here, and he was a soulmate who cared. 

Unlike his own—a soulmate who never woke up after a tragic incident years ago, one which you conveniently sat out of.

“I see,” Minho hummed. “He is the reason why you won’t leave this city.”

A breath hitched in your throat. Minho sounded threatening, almost as if plotting something in his head. You couldn’t be too sure; you would love to give yourself the benefit of the doubt that he still, with the childish part of him, cared about you.

You hoped when he saw you, he saw the kid he used to love. But your mind was too paranoid that something would happen to Jisung if you showed a bond here, so you didn’t.

“He’s just a friend,” you said, removing yourself away from Jisung on a quick whim.

“You forget who I am, [Name],” Minho smirked as he gestured toward your hand. “I can see the red string just as you can.” 

“What is your problem?” Jisung asked as he took a bold step forward, pulling you behind. 

You shoved him backward as Minho flashed the boy a menacing glare. Jisung struggled against your grip; he could tell something was up. He wasn’t as stupid as he liked to act normally.

While unsure of what exactly Minho’s deal was, knowing that he was a past figure from your childhood was enough to warrant him doubting Minho’s intention. Why would you be here without help if he was someone close to you?

And he wanted to help. He wanted to shield you from pain and drama and death and everything harmful that could ever come your way. He wanted to be helpful. 

“Step aside, Jisung,” you whisper-yelled at him. “He’s just asking me to go home.”

Oh? Now he has to be here because you cannot go back. 

“Go somewhere else. Let me handle this.” You demanded again when Jisung stood on his ground. 

“No! Are you serious? This man looks like bad news!” Jisung retorted stubbornly, flipping his wrist so his hand would clamp over yours instead. He squeezed your hand, looking at you firmly. “I’m not leaving you here alone. What if he takes you?”

“He is not going to,” you reassured him. “Please just leave? I will catch up with you, I pro–“

“Hey! Don’t touch them!” 

Minho had snuck up behind you without your knowledge. Once your attention is focused on Jisung, all else often fades into the background. You had no idea Minho even marched behind you until Jisung shifted his weight, took a giant stride to maneuver over you, and swatted Minho’s approaching hand away from your shoulder. Jisung deathly glared at the taller man, refusing to budge despite the unspoken power dynamic.

You spun around just in time to see Minho clench his jaw in irritation and the tattoo inked on the side of his index finger glowing a halo white color. You furrowed your brows; you had no idea what the rune meant, but it must not have been a regular spell if it was hidden in a place like that.

Although the glow disappeared as Minho calmed himself down, you held your caution like a wall and put your hands on Jisung’s shoulders.

It was unlikely, but there was still no guarantee that Minho would not discreetly do something publicly and frame it as an accident. He was always good at that. Thanks to the less obvious medium he inherited from his family, he was always good at subtle and stealthy magic.

You attempted to pull Jisung backward. “Jisung, leave us alone!”

“No! Screw him–screw you!” He snatched himself from your grip and advanced toward Minho, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You know what happened, and you did nothing to help them! How dare you come here to ask them to go back home like there’s a home to be had over there! You are a terrible person!”

Panicked, you kept your eyes focused on Jisung as he animatedly defended you when there was no issue genuinely present. He was getting louder, and a crowd began gradually forming to check out the source of this commotion. That would cause nothing but trouble and inconvenience for both you and Minho. You had to leave, all of you. 

You unzipped your bag and pulled out your string card, quickly unwrapping a small piece to create a teleportation figure. Minho seemed to have caught sight of your rapid movement because he shifted his torso to the side to see better what you were doing.

His sudden distraction caught Jisung’s attention. Jisung turned around, eyes narrowed with distaste, and he jolted in surprise when you took his wrist and dragged him elsewhere.

Minho followed suit, trailing behind you as you led him straight into an alleyway with fewer people. Jisung huffed in exhaustion to follow up with your speed, and when you finally stopped, you spun around to meet him face-to-face.

You immediately put a hand over his head, not sparing him a second to speak. Jisung widened his eyes, uncertain about his assumption that you were putting a spell on him. His doubt was erased once you changed a familiar-sounding spell under your breath, and his voice struggled in its protest.

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you said quickly. Before you closed the portal on him, you reassured him, “I’ll find you later.” 

He was gone in a second, carried away by the wind and magic. Minho watched the disappearance of the portal with disinterest, his hands shoved in his pocket as if he had been idly waiting for you to get rid of your nosy soulmate. When you exhaled in relief once he was gone and your ears were quiet, you looked to Minho with disdain.

“You are so vulnerable with him,” Minho pointed out. “I am surprised.”

You clicked your tongue. “Why? I was the same way when you knew me.” 

“I didn’t mean that,” he said with a knowing smile. “Either way, I take it that you’re not going home when he's here, are you?”

There was a shove at your chest. The word ‘home’ sounded uneasy. 

The word ‘home’ sounded like Jisung’s house, where his parents were continuously loving and where he loved to joke and laugh around. The word ‘home’ sounded like the cheering with your friends from the bleachers at Hyunjin’s basketball game, inhaling and arguing over Felix’s baked cookies. The word ‘home’ sounded like Seungmin scribbling on his notebook as he studied at the convenience store you worked at, mutters of equations leaving his lips.

The word ‘home’ was none of the above when it left Minho’s lips. He no longer sounded how you knew him to sound; he was not the sweet boy you knew. 

“No,” you answered faintly.

“This is not the place for you, [Name]. People like you and I don’t belong here,” Minho said as if it was a desperate attempt.

You clenched your fists, your head lowered to face the ground. You felt unsteady, but you knew your decision was final.

“You’re wrong. People like you don’t belong here,” you told him. “I earned a place here. This is my home now, and I am never going back there. I’m sorry about Uncle Chan, I really am.”

Minho remained silent. He looked disappointed and discouraged.

“I have been researching what to do, and I think I can wake him up.”

Light returned to your eyes for a split second. You caught his gloomy features and realized you had misunderstood him.

He wasn’t here to convince you to go back for the council. Why would he? He must also have a bone to pick with them because of what they did to your family, to his soulmate. He was never here to drag you back, so you have another chance to suffer eternally.

You looked down at his fragile hand and shuddered at the dirty red string. Gashes and nail marks adorned its surface, waiting to be broken so it could save the love of a lifetime and promptly destroy it simultaneously.

Minho planned to risk the fated bond to save Chan, and he needed you to be there for him. Nobody else knows of their bond, and his feelings—nobody else but your family, and you were the only one left. 

He would never take you back there and force you to walk in the steps of your parents. Minho was here to beg you to return for him, even for a little, because he was about to lose everything. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered when you were within his reach. 

You pursed your lips. “It’s not your fault.” 

“Don’t break the string,” you suggested. “We can figure it out another way. I will keep researching. You can try to bring my family’s books over for me to go through them. We will figure something out.”

Minho sighed, his voice shaky. Hearing you reassure him did alleviate his stress, thankfully. “It’s been so long. He’s not waking up.”

“No,” you said, “I think he will.”

He has to. Because it cannot be just you. It cannot be just you on this stranded land. 

A somewhat relieved exhale left his parted lips. He looked relaxed now, not as stoic as before. You forgot how gorgeous he was; it all came to light once you put down your shaded lenses.

The heat at your neck released itself throughout the rest of your body once you realized the previous tension was gone, and you felt at ease. Minho’s shoulders slumped in unison, his guard being let down, and he smiled remorsefully at you.

“How have you been?” he started again. "I forgot to ask you."

You hummed contently. “I’ve been good.” 

“You found your soulmate. Here, of all places,” he said, looking around him in confusion. There was almost relief in his voice when he added, “But he loves you.” 

“He does,” you sighed with furrowed brows, recalling when you sent him away without much explanation. “I have probably upset him a great deal just then, so I need to find him.” 

Minho nodded in silent agreement. He kicked his feet subtly and stood up straight again. “Yeah, you should go find him.”

“I plan to,” you said, your eyes lingering on his face. “Stay safe, Minho. I’ll see you again.”

After he gave you a wave in response, you spun on your heels and ran off.

Jisung did not return your calls nor reply to your messages. You did not necessarily want to pull the strings out for this, but after minutes of spinning around in a circle in this shopping area to find no traces of him, you opted for the easier way out: you pulled at him by the soulmate string.

You were there before you knew it, running after where the string was leading you and finding yourself at an emptier part of the shopping area. There were more cars than people here, and most stores were restaurants with few people.

You slowed down to catch your breath, and then your hands were on your knees as you inhaled and exhaled rapidly. When you were finally done, you stood up straight and called for his name.

Jisung froze on the spot. It was just a habit to respond whenever you called out to him, and he would turn around to respond with a bright grin. He turned around this time, but his face remained grim and betrayed.

However, part of him relaxed when he saw that you were safe and sound before him. He waited as you jogged up to him and stopped before you crashed into his body.

“Hey, I’m back,” you said. “Did you manage to catch up with everyone else?”

He shook his head, a frown tattooed on his face. “No, I was busy worrying about you.”

You smiled a little and shrugged. “I already told you I would handle the situation.”

He sighed. You didn’t understand him. You couldn’t understand his feelings of panic and fear. Perhaps this was all just an easy feat to you because you were born with the ability to physically defend yourself, from being able to do fantastic things and the ability to self-heal.

But to him, an ordinary boy, none of this was breezy and understandable. What he saw in Minho was what he would see in someone holding a knife and marching toward him. Minho was a person who could do you harm.

It was not about you being able to take care of the situation. It was about him not knowing what was happening and being forced to be scared in a tiny corner. It seemed his feelings were disregarded when you brushed him off with a half-hearted laugh. 

“How am I supposed to know that? I cannot be sure of that!” he reasoned in a fury haze. “Maybe you have the upper hand with danger when you are here, but I doubt you do when facing someone with the same capability as you.”

“Jisung, I am literally standing here now.” You awkwardly laughed. “ It’s really not that big a deal.”

“Yes, it is! My feelings are a big deal!” He pointed at himself repeatedly, his fingers jabbing at his chest as his eyes emphasized how hopeless and inferior to you he had felt. His eyes were staring into your soul angrily. They made you shiver.

“I am allowed to be scared for you and not be teleported away without my consent when you need me!”

You kept silent for a second. Your brain was processing his words and fishing out specific details to fit a narrative only you understood selfishly. You could not understand his frustration; where was it coming from? Why should he be upset? Your issues were never his, even though you knew he had the desire to shoulder your burdens for you. You didn’t need him to, though. You never wanted him to either because what can he help with? Not much is provided in terms of real solutions.

You shook your head and sighed, “Is that it? You didn’t like it when I used magic on you without asking?”

“What–my god, no–yes! But that is not the point I am making!” Jisung exclaimed, messily waving his hand as he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to calm the ringing noises in his head.

Speaking came as a strain to him. He hated fighting with you. He wanted this to end. “It’s not that. I’m mad because you pushed me away again when there was a problem, which you promised me before you would stop doing. You won’t let me help you.”

“How can you help? You can’t help me! You were escalating the situation and making everything tenser than it already was! I had it all under control!” you returned the exclamation but did not move from your spot.

You had all your frustration within your body, waiting for the perfect time to explode. “Had you kept that up, a fight might have broken out. Then what, huh? I have to save your ass again because you can never help me!” 

You were right. He would never be strong enough to help you; your family issue and your position in your home city were beyond the scope of his ability. He was just a boy, and even if he grew older, what was human flesh before the blade of magic? Not much. Everything you said was right, but they were not to be said, especially by you. You were not allowed to make him feel inferior because of something he could not control.

You made him feel like baggage you had to drag behind you. You made him feel like a burden. 

Jisung shrunk back at your words, his heart beating in glass shatters. He backed away when you tried to take a hesitant step forward and refused to look at you.

“Jisung, I’m sorry, I didn’t–“ you flinched when he backed away again, “mean it. I didn’t mean it.”

“Please leave me be,” he whispered. “I don’t want to see you right now.” 

You panted with the shivers in your body as you watched him walk away. Your sight blurred with water, and the ringing in your head grew as low as an ambulance’s alarm. There was a hole in your eyes that blinded you from anything and everything and forced you to act upon instincts only. Your senses were being piled into disarray; it felt like you were slowly descending into madness. You wouldn’t like it if you could process your emotions a lot.

Not a single thought traveled through your brain as you walked fast, trying to catch up with Jisung. Your hands ripped at your bag for strings, and you hastily latched onto the sparkly white string. A blank canvas to start things over, a blank towel to wipe the dirt on, a string to erase important memories. 

Jisung gasped in shock when you suddenly appeared before him. Your eyes were blank bullet holes with no shades of life in them, and you moved like a robot as you grabbed onto his shoulder and forced him in place. He furrowed his brows in concern when he saw the strings on your wrist glowing brightly.

Magic. On him. Again. You and your fucking magic.

He shoved you away hard, causing you to stumble back a few steps and regain your consciousness. His blood boiled with anger—god, he has never been this mad at you. He was afraid of what he would say at such a hectic time like this. But why should he care? You didn’t care when you said everything you did. 

“You used magic on me again!” he exclaimed, annoyed and utterly fed up. But he had no idea what words he was spilling out his mouth, and his heart hammered against the trap his sudden boldness locked it in.

He would never say this. He should never say this. Why was he doing this?

“I just told you I don’t like it, and you went ahead and did it again! It’s like you just do whatever you want, which you do! You can just up and leave your home forever, and you can just destroy a car if you so ask. I do not care if you did it to save me!”

You never thought of a single occasion where you acted out on your own, but if Jisung said so then maybe you did. He was right. 

You shook your head immediately, realizing you had made a grave mistake. “I’m sorry–“

“Good lord, that is all you do. All you do is apologize.” Jisung furrowed his brows at you, his eyes mercilessly cold and hurtful as he glared at you. “Get a grip, [Name], please. And stop ruining everything for once.”

It was all your fault. This argument, today being crowded, the cat café being hard to find, your uncle being in a coma, Minho’s desire to tarnish his fated relationship, your family’s eventful death, your solitude for years, Jisung looking at you with distaste, you being born.

Everything was your fault. It was all your fault. There was nothing good coming for you, and there has never been. 

You picked at your nails, feeling weights trapped at your ankles and reeling you backward into the cave Jisung helped you out of. 

Things were gradually heading back to square one for you. It could be a momentary lapse, but a moment was enough for you to make a decision that could cost you everything you have earned and gained thus far. Your friends, your life, your love—everything is gone within the blink of an eye.

This felt like the beginning of a relapse; you could do nothing to stop yourself from spiraling. 

All you needed to do was leave and never appear again. 

“I’m…” You caught the apology at your throat and refused its escape. A tear rolled past your eye, but you could not see how Jisung softened immediately. 

“Don’t guilt-trip me,” Jisung muttered as he looked away. His knuckles were white from gripping the straps of his bag. “Just leave me alone. I don’t want to see you right now.”

He has all the right to be mad. You knew that to heart. You hurt his feelings enough for him to churn himself over and act like this. Deeply enough that he chose to walk away from you when your image of him was that he would never leave you first. This was your fault. Your soulmate leaving you was your fault because you weren’t smart enough to fix this. 

You weren’t smart enough to save this situation, nor yourself, nor your uncle, nor your friends, nor anything. 

Your existence was a rejection of life. That was your fate, and nobody was present to tell you otherwise. 

[daz4i]

here let me give you a tldr

Recurrent suicidal ideation or self harm.

duh. it's dazai

Chronic feelings of emptiness.

duh. it's dazai

^ can you believe i wrote like 2 whole pages abt these 2 points alone in my doc. incredible

(1) Markedly disturbed sense of identity and (2) distorted self-image.

1. the name of his ability is "no longer human" (more accurate translation is "disqualified from being human") i don't think it's that big of a stretch to say he has Issues™ with his identity (also given how he practically changes his personality and behavior in often extreme ways for the people around him . yeah)

2. girl he is literally always covered in bandages (i can't say that's the reason but given we don't have any other one. no harm in theorizing when it helps my very serious and important tumblr post)

Impulsive or reckless behaviors (e.g., impulsive or uncontrollable spending, unsafe sex, substance use disorders, reckless driving, binge eating).

duh. it's dazai

fr tho i can't say this for certain (esp the "impulsive" part) but. one of the first times we see him - at least in the anime - is when he's high (i don't think i need to explain why his suicide attempts are bogus, i doubt this wasn't on purpose). we see him drink relatively often, esp compared to other characters, and his likes literally list "alcohol". also, these shots from his dorm from when he avoided going back to work after being kidnapped, supposedly not more than a few days really:

i will say tho. mad respect for only eating one thing. autistic king also

(edit: actually from my own experience + other ppl with bpd i met most of us have sensory issues - it's not a symptom, more like a very common thing - so it might even be a part of that!)

Transient, stress-related paranoid or severe dissociative symptoms.

i can't say anything abt dissociation, but his paranoia is def there even if he's relatively subtle about it lol. having 300 backup plans for anything your enemy can pull isn't normal. setting up traps preparing for a possible fight or disaster (see: the entire guild arc) isn't normal. no one else in the ada does that. even when we see him making strategies with ranpo, he's the one thinking up options and possibilities - he is on constant high alert and prepared to be attacked. you may say it's for a good reason which is fair i will not lie. but again this is why i bring up the comparison to the other ada members. he is clearly more paranoid and overprepared than they are, this is abnormal

also let me turn you to story's lovely post about what might be re-triggering this thought process for him bc i love this analysis sm 🖤

Unstable and chaotic interpersonal relationships, often characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation, also known as "splitting"

god i wish i could find the post where i mentioned this but. imo. that's part of(!!!) his dynamic with chuuya. i feel like esp in their interactions in the current day you can see him zigzagging between commenting on how much he hates chuuya - iirc only as a reaction to chuuya saying the same thing - and then admiring him the next minute, when chuuya isn't there to hear

him getting attached super quickly, telling him he loves him one day after meeting him, that's such a bpd thing lol 😭 i can maybe let it slide bc he was 15 but like . yeah that's not normal even for a 15 y/o. and again immediately switching to being... vitriolic, after chuuya's negative responses, and being obsessed with hurting him later on ("i spent the last 7 years thinking of ways to kill chuuya" or however that quote goes. girl please go on mood stabilizers)

if you've heard the term fp before you might be familiar with this, but tldr it's that person you hold as the one most important to you, the one with your self esteem and general wellbeing in their hands whether they know or not. if they fail to give you attention or validation as you expect, you might respond by attacking them, acting coldly, wanting to hurt them etc. do i need to go on

(i know a lot of people insist that he's just. lying. and that's fair! i personally disagree - yeah he's not 100% honest but imo there is a kernel of truth to his hate. it just doesn't negate the love and attachment that are there as well, and i'd dare even say feeds into them, and one can't exist without the other. also like on a factual level chuuya is in his dislikes list and idk how you'd lie on a meta level like this askljdfgh so this is my offer for WHY he's there, beyond actual meta stuff like the relationship between their irl counterparts)

bonus: for beast dazai that's 100% odasaku. if my fp rejected me this badly i too would throw myself off a building 👍 (fr tho that's also a possible response. not an outward reaction, but an inward one, attacking yourself for their lack of attention or validation)

these are just the ones i have off the top of my head. with hcs and theories you could probably get into the other symptoms as well (esp with beast dazai. he's the biggest bpd icon i've ever seen fr)

hope you enjoyed my slightly unhinged rambling 🫡 have a great day!

me continuing my bpd dazai analysis trying to phrase anything that isn't "dazai has bpd bc i said so" when my brain is as tired and messy as it is right now

i don't have a reaction pic here. imagine me looking frustrated and tired on my computer

[jayceart]

Foxxian has me in a chokehold