#betelgeuse angst

[nugzzzzzzz]

FINALLY FINISHED THIS COMIC OH MY GODDDDD JESUS CHRISTSTTT

this comic was also one of the very few comics I have ever colored, so this is merely a test as to see if I can do better with my rendering and I feel somewhat satisfied with this comic

I have a try at establishing color with mood and tone 🤭

BUT I ALSO I WANT BJ TO EXPERIENCE ACTUAL LOVE GRRAAGHHH

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Say It Once, Say It Twice - Beetlejuice (Musical) X Female Reader

Title: Say It Once, Say It Twice

Beetlejuice (Musical) X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Lydia (Mentioned), a Mugger, Delia (Mentioned), and Charles (Mentioned)

WC: 4,306

Warnings: Musical Beetlejuice, and Beetlejuice in general, teasing, banter, flirting, suggestive, italics, cursing, mentions of death, very brief mention of snakes, nicknames, Reader gets almost mugged, crying, mentions of knives, self mentions of insecurement, fear of abandonment?, mood ring hair, slight angst, and fluff

Ever since you had a near-death experience as a child, you've been able to see ghosts. It was terrifying. And funnily enough, your first ghost was your grandmother, whose spirit had been attached to the house you, your mother, and your father lived in. Only after then, did it get worse.

You'd spot a ghostly ghoul trapped to walk down the same sidewalk over and over; shards of glass embedded in his pasty skin, someone had hit him with a car. There was an older woman, doomed to sit on the same bench she died on; heart attack while feeding the birds. You had witnessed and even spoken to a lot of trapped ghosts in your life, and this eventually led to you becoming an outcast to most of society. 

As you grew up, school was difficult, especially when you were younger ranting on and on about ghosts you could see and talk to; which led to a-many parent-teacher meetings. As you got older, and the stories continued, your parents tried taking you to a therapist, and psychologist, but nothing seemed to help you. For years you went to these doctors, and they always said that you either had an overactive imagination or you needed pills. 

At some point, you realized that by hiding your strange 'superpower', and pretending you were just making things up for attention or whatever, you were able to stop seeing those doctors; convincing your parents that you were fine. But that was well into your high school years, and at that point, you were considered... Odd. It was hard to make and keep friends. But you got to the point that you didn't need companionship. You did well in school, getting great marks, and graduated early, moving straight on to college. 

You were able to finish college and get your degree, before finding a well-paying job. Though, this well-paying job forced you to move to rural Connecticut; not that you really cared about moving, you could have a fresh start on life. New people, who didn't know about your odd past, about the ghosts you sometimes see, or anything else. 

So, in your early twenties, you moved yourself out to a small town in rural Connecticut. You were able to find a small home - oddly decently priced - thankfully, you had been saving up your savings ever since you were little, in hopes of possibly moving out and getting your place someday. Still, this small home was marked pretty low, and you thought that maybe it was a pretty big fixer-upper, but it was actually nice inside. It was bare, yet liveable. 

When you first moved in, you had noticed that you lived right next to this really pretty black, Victorian mansion. Well, the mansion sat on a high hill, looking over the town, and you were below that hill, off to the side, next to a side road that led to the main road. 

Well, after a couple of months, living in your new small home, you started to feel like someone was... Watching you. It was a feeling that sent shivers down your spine. This feeling wasn't all the time, no, but it happened every other day, or so it felt like. And whenever you felt it, you'd look around to see if anyone was watching you, but nobody was there. It unnerved you, to say the least. 

It wasn't until a couple of weeks later, that you finally figured out what was causing that unnerving feeling. It was no wonder why the house you now lived in was so cheap, compared to other houses around the States. The town was haunted by a demon. And this demon rarely left you alone. 

You felt like you were cursed. 

"Babes!" You heard Beetlejuice whine, hovering behind you as you sat at your desk, working on something for work. "Babeeeeeee!" He whined again, this time more forcefully.

You groaned. He's been whining in that tone for a while. But you were working, and you really wanted to get your work done, continuing to type away at your computer. "Beej," You muttered, still typing. "I'm working right now. I need to get this done for my boss."

Appearing on your desk, Beetlejuice sat beside your computer, glaring down at it before looking at you; a soft pink rising onto his hairline briefly at the nickname. Crossing his legs, he bent to rest his hand on his cheek, "Why don't I just get rid of your boss for you, then you don't have to work anymore."

"Nope," You began, popping the 'p'. "Then I wouldn't have a job. And no job means no money."

Beetlejuice pouted dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Money, shmoney. Who needs it? I can conjure up anything you need with a snap of my fingers!" He snapped his fingers, and a shower of white, green, black, and purple confetti burst into the air, though it did little to aid your concentration; you blew a piece of confetti off your nose.

Your... Relationship with Beetlejuice was... Interesting to say the least. In the beginning, you were incredibly annoyed by him, but soon found yourself warming up to his bizarre antics and unconventional charm. Beetlejuice was like no one you had ever met - or rather, no one you had ever been haunted by.

At first, his constant interruptions, crude jokes, and mischievous pranks drove you up the wall. You were sure he got a kick out of seeing you flustered and annoyed. However, beneath all the chaos, you began to see a different side of him. He was surprisingly attentive, and he never crossed any real boundaries that you had put up.

Slowly, your annoyance turned into reluctant amusement. His antics started bringing a smile to your face, even when you were trying to stay mad at him. You found yourself looking forward to his visits, wondering what kind of chaos he would bring next. He had a way of making the mundane interesting, and his unpredictable nature kept you on your toes.

Though, at that very moment, you just wanted to have some peace and quiet. Sighing, rubbing your temples, you spoke, "Beej, I really need to focus. This report is due by the end of the day."

He floated in front of you - upside down - blocking your view of the screen, his eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. "But babyyyy, I'm so bored! Entertain me!" He exclaimed, giving you an over-the-top puppy dog look.

You arched an eyebrow, unamused; though you felt heat rise up in your cheeks. "Why don't you go scare the neighbors or something? I'm sure Lydia's parents would love to entertain you or something.”

Beetlejuice grinned wickedly; streaks of red slowly appeared in his green, untamed hair. "Oh, you know they would! But I'd much rather be here, with you. It's way more fun!" He leaned closer, "Come on, just a little break? We can play a game, maybe we can play 'Truth Or Dare.'"

You shook your head, chuckling despite yourself. "Beej, if I don't get this done, I'll get in trouble, and then you'll have to deal with me being grumpy."

He smirked, returning to sit on your desk, and leaning in closer. "Come on, babes. Just a little game, pretty please?"

Without thinking, you reached out to push him away, your hand passing right through his ethereal chest. A shiver ran down your spine as your hand met no resistance, just cold air. Beetlejuice grinned wider, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Forgot I'm not solid, didn't ya?" At your groan and eye roll, he continued, "Fine, fine. But you owe me some quality time later. Or..." He trailed off, his mischievous grin reappearing, the dark green in his hair spreading, "You could be a dear and just say my name so we can have some real fun."

"Nope, not gonna happen. I am not summoning you." He groaned again, and you got right back to work, "Sorry, Beej, but I know that if I do that, you'll probably try and take over the world. I'm so glad I spoke to Lydia.”

“Damn kid.” He muttered, staring out your window, pouting once more, crossing his arms over his chest. Returning his eyes to you, he grinned that grin of his, "Take over the world? Me? Come on, babes, you know I'm more into causing localized chaos than global domination." He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with a mock wistful expression - his legs hung off the side of the desk, kicking back and forth in the air. "But imagine the fun we could have together! Ghost parties, haunting the living, pranking everyone... It would be legendary!"

You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued typing. "Legendary, maybe. But I've got responsibilities, and I can't just abandon them to become your sidekick in a supernatural escapade."

Beetlejuice sighed dramatically, floating up to sit cross-legged in midair. "Alright, Miss Responsible, finish your boring work then. But you better make it up to me later. Maybe then we can play a game of 'Truth or Dare' then, and I promise to keep it... Relatively decent."

You glanced at him, smirking. "Relatively decent, huh? I'll believe it when I see it."

He winked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, you'll see it, alright. Just you wait."

With a final dramatic - and somewhat creepy - giggle, Beetlejuice vanished in a puff of green smoke, leaving you to your work. As you turned back to your computer, you couldn't help but frown.

You wondered if Beej really did like spending time with you - annoying you and flirting with you - or if he was just doing it to try and convince you to say his name. That possible realization made your chest hurt. You knew that if you did say his name, you'd be giving him a lot more power than you were comfortable with.

What would happen when he got what he wanted? Would he really cause chaos like he always promised, or was there something more to his constant presence? Deep down, you had gotten so used to him always being around that the thought of him leaving after regaining his power scared you. He'd have his powers and forget all about you... The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being used, despite the strange bond that had formed between you two.

~~~

That night, after finishing the day's work, you kept your promise to Beetlejuice and played 'Truth or Dare' with him, which you immediately regretted doing. To make a long story short, Beetlejuice didn’t really follow through on his promise to keep the game 'relatively decent.' ‘If you could kiss anyone in the room, who would it be?,’ - you and Beeltejuice were the only ones in the room - you ended up letting out an irritated huff and crossing your arms.

Seeing that you were actively ignoring him, Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow and leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Oh, come on, babes! It’s just a game.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to avoid looking at him. "Yeah, well, you said you would keep it decent. This is the third question."

He tilted his head, his grin faltering only slightly "Actually, I said 'relatively'." At your silence, he continued, “Alright, alright. I get it. I’m sorry, babes… How about this? You pick a movie, and I promise to behave.”

“You?” You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “You promise to behave?” 'Ha, fat chance.' You thought.

Beetlejuice crossed an 'x' over where his heart would be, "Cross my heart and hope to die.”

"Beej, you're already dead." You sighed deeply.

You quickly found yourself sitting on the one end of the couch, eyes fixed on the movie you had chosen. It had been silent except for the ambient noise of the TV for what felt like thirty minutes or so. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Beetlejuice fidgeting. His leg was shaking rapidly up and down, and his hands twisted around each other restlessly. You knew that he wasn't good at sitting still for long periods of time. Though he was trying to stay focused on the screen, his eyes kept drifting to you, unable to stay away.

Beetlejuice, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, slid closer, the proximity making your pulse quicken. You could practically feel the warmth of his presence, even though you knew it was just a trick of the mind. You tried to ignore the feeling of his presence. 

He glanced over at you with a teasing smirk. “You know, babe, if you said my name right now, we could really make this night more interesting. Wink, wink.” He actually said ‘wink, wink’ out loud, adding an actual wink. "Come on..." He trailed off, leaning in close, "Just for tonight. I can make it worth your while." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

"Beetlejuice," You lightly warned, making his eyes light up at the possibility of you saying it two times more, "No." His wicked grin quickly dropped into a pout.

Groaning, Beetlejuice flopped over your lap, though he phased right through you. Why did you still feel his presence as if he were truly there? And why did you have the overwhelming urge to touch his hair? “Babe! Babes! Toots! Baby! Babycakes! Puddin' Pie! Pumpkin! Pumpkin Pie!-” His insistent nicknaming made your cheeks flush as you tried not to make eye contact with him. “I’ll do anything!”

You looked down at him, a mix of frustration and curiosity in your gaze. “Anything?” you asked, tilting your head.

Beetlejuice sat up, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “Anything! You want a puppy? I’ll steal you a puppy! Or an elephant! Ya like elephants? Oh! Maybe we can get you a giraffe! Or a tiger! Or-”

You bit your lip, staring at him as he continued listing off animals he could ‘steal’ for you in exchange for his ‘freedom.’ Each offer sounded more outrageous than the last, and yet it was his eagerness that struck a chord with you.

A familiar unease settled over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Beetlejuice’s insistence on getting you to say his name was just another ploy. The thought that he might only be around because you could see - thus set him free - made you feel used. The idea of him disappearing from your life after all this time was more than unsettling; it was devastating.

Despite enjoying most of your time with Beetlejuice, your trust in him was fragile. The fear of him leaving, combined with your history of loneliness, made you wary of fully opening up. Having Beetlejuice in your life felt like a rare - if unconventional - source of companionship, and the thought of him vanishing after you’d let your guard down was almost too much to bear. You felt selfish for holding back, feeling like you were keeping a genie trapped in a bottle, but you also knew that not saying his name was a way to protect others from the chaos he could and would unleash.

“Beej,” You said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside, “I appreciate the offer, but you know I can’t just-”

Beetlejuice cut you off with an exaggerated sigh, sitting up. “Oh, come on! Just say the magic words, and we can have some real fun. You know you want to.” He sing-songed.

You shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. “It’s not that simple. There are... Reasons. I can’t just-” You let out a sigh, rubbing your cheek with a hand, and casting your gaze down to your lap; your heart was pounding in your chest. “I’m just going to... Get some air.”

You retreated to your room, shutting the door behind you and leaning against it for a moment. The quiet of your room was a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere you’d just left. You tried to calm your racing heart, grappling with the overwhelming emotions Beetlejuice stirred up in you. As you sat on the edge of your bed, you let out a deep sigh, your hands coming up to cover your face; your palms fiercely pressing into your eyelids, and tears burned the backs of your eyes.

~~~

When you did finally emerge from your room the next morning, you could almost feel the absence of Beetlejuice. He was nowhere to be seen, and the house felt eerily quiet. You went about your day, glancing over your shoulder as if expecting him to appear at any moment; almost waiting for him to appear with a giant grin on his face - maybe try and scare you in addition to some suggestive comment. Beetlejuice’s absence was both a relief and a source of unease... You even sort of... Missed him. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was either giving you space or plotting his next move. 

However, nothing happened at the beginning of the day. No pranks, no sudden appearances, nothing. You continued on, getting ready for work, walking to work, working, and then walking home. As you did every weekday. It was dark, but there were a few street lamps that illuminate your path. The streets were silent, and you seemed to be the only one walking down the block. You often found yourself the only one, and it was nice most nights, just listening to music on your headphones as you enjoyed your evening stroll back home. 

Passing a couple of small businesses, you fiddled with the strap of your over-the-shoulder bag before you felt someone grab your upper arm, pulling you into the nearby alleyway. A shiver of fear ran down your spine, your eyes wide as you were harshly pushed up against the brick wall of a building. You felt your body suddenly feel cold, a chill running through your veins as you stared up at the man before you, pinning you to the wall.

He smirked wickedly, a grin that would probably give you nightmares. Raising his free hand, he pulled the headphones off of your ears, letting them rest around your neck before he raked his eyes across your face. You felt like you were going to be sick, and even more so when you noticed the glint of a knife as he pulled one out of his back pocket. You tried to swallow, but your throat was super dry, and you tried to speak, only for the evil stranger to tut you, shaking his head.

"Uh-uh-uh, pretty. I have something to say." His voice was dripping with venomous honey, he raised the knife, and it glinted once more in the moonlight. "Now, this is how this is going to play out. I'm going to take your bag, whatever valuables, and maybe... If you're lucky, maybe-" He glanced down at your body again, licking his lips as he grinned wolfishly, "I'll let you go." His knife brushed along your collarbone, rubbing the fabric of your shirt slightly.

You felt panic and bile rise up in your throat, trying to think of something - anything! Suddenly, you had an idea. A crazy idea. "Beetlejuice." You muttered, making the man before you raise an eyebrow, his wolfish grin becoming slightly confused.

"What?" He darkly chuckled out, twisting the knife.

"Beetlejuice." You spoke again, more clearly, the man blinked.

"Beetle-whatnow?"

Swallowing thickly, narrowing your eyes, you stared up at the man as you spoke, "Beetlejuice."

The man before you let out a laugh, staring at you as his grin returned, "I don't know what you are trying to pull, or saying, but I would suggest you just let me take want I want and-"

“Nice knife you’ve got there,” A voice suddenly said, his tone dripping with mock admiration as he appeared behind the mugger. The man jumped, turning around to see a man dressed in a tattered black and white stripe suit. The mugger narrowed his eyes, eyeing the strange red, untamed hair, and pale complexion, and the odd bits of green on his face. 

"Who the living Hell are you?" He growled, still trying to sound and act tough, despite being a bit unnerved by the strange man's sudden appearance.

“I'm your worst nightmare,” Beetlejuice said with a sinister grin, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight as he took a menacing step closer to the mugger. His voice was laced with a chilling amusement that seemed to fill the alleyway with an unsettling energy. The mugger’s eyes widened in shock and confusion. Beetlejuice continued, his gaze fixed on the knife in the mugger’s hand. “As I said, nice knife you’ve got there. It would be a shame if something were to happen to it.” With a snap of his fingers, the knife began to twist and writhe, its metal surface rippling as it transformed into a black-and-white striped snake.

The mugger’s face went pale as the snake slithered around his hand, hissing and wriggling with an almost sentient anger. The mugger let out a high-pitched yelp of terror, dropping the snake and stumbling backward onto the ground. He scrambled away from the hissing, writhing creature, his eyes darting around in panic as he tripped over himself, desperate to get as far away from Beetlejuice as possible.

Beetlejuice watched with a satisfied smirk, he chuckled darkly, his laughter echoing off the alley walls. “Run along, you little creep!” Beetlejuice called out with a mocking tone. “I’ve got better things to do than play with you.” He waved dismissively, and with a snap of his fingers, the snake vanished into thin air, leaving only a faint shimmer of green smoke in its wake.

The mugger, now thoroughly panicked, scrambled to his feet and bolted from the alley, his screams fading into the distance. Beetlejuice grinned; nobody touched his breather. Beetlejuice turned his attention back to you - seeing your still-wide eyes, frozen frame, and somewhat slack jaw as the adrenaline coursed through your system; this was your first time having witnessed Beetlejuice so… Devious. His grin softened slightly at you, expressing as he approached, his hair returning to its green, with streaks of red; and hints of purple. He was worried that you were scared of him.

“Well, that was entertaining,” He said, his tone shifting to something more gentle, though still edged with his usual mischief, and you felt yourself finally breathe. "You rang-?" Beetlejuice's words were cut short when you suddenly threw your arms around him; all his worries flew out the window.

You clung to him, tears streaming down your face as the reality of the situation hit you all at once - not even taking into account his almost rotten and dead flower smell; you nuzzled your face closer. Beetlejuice was caught off guard and hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you. The touch was new, comforting in a way you hadn’t expected; but you still feared that he might vanish into the air if you let go. He wasn’t just a ghostly presence anymore; he was solid, tangible, there. His usual bravado faltered, replaced by a hesitant, almost clumsy attempt at offering comfort. He held you close, feeling the warmth and weight of your embrace. He shut his eyes, digging his nose into your hairline, before teleporting you back to the safety of your home.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself sitting beside Beetlejuice on your couch. Reluctantly slipping out of his cold hold, you wiped the heels of your hands onto your eyes, brushing away the tears; and sniffling. Beetlejuice's hands fidgeted, the overwhelming need to reach out and hold your hand was bubbling up inside of him; he bit his bottom lip with his sharp teeth. He waited for you, waiting for you to start talking. Anything to break the heavy silence between the two of you. Finally, after a long while of hesitation, you spoke.

"I- I didn't know what to do," Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "I had to summon you... I- Thank you..." You bowed your head, and the realization that he was now free, free to leave, "You probably want to go off and do your own thing... Right? You're finally free to wander and roam and cause chaos."

His green eyes studied you, staring down at the side of your face. “Free to roam and cause chaos?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically as you looked up, your confused, wide eyes meeting his. “Oh, please, babes. Do you really think I’m just gonna waltz off into the night and leave you high and dry? Where’s the fun in that? I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to it. Can’t get rid of me.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were softer, betraying a hint of sincerity as he looked at you.

"Really?" You asked, sounding somewhat unsure, "You won't- you won't leave me alone?"

"I won't leave you." He spoke, surprisingly serious, before he spoke up again - dark pink began to appear in his hair and beard - his grin growing, "Consider me your own personal demon, baby! And if you’re ever feeling lonely, well, let’s just say I’m always up for a little... Late-night company." He wiggled his eyebrows, making a giggle leave you - back to both of your old ways - you went to push him, half-expecting for your hand to phase through him, only to press against his chest. Your smile softened as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his side. 

Feeling his cold lips press a somewhat sloppy kiss to your temple, you pulled away from him slightly, looking up at him as his bright eyes met yours. "Now that you're free... What else can you do?"

Beetlejuice grinned, the mischievous glint returning in his eyes, "Oh, baby," He almost growled, "You're in for a show!"

---

Main Masterlist | Beetlejuice The Musical Masterlist

[greatgaspiads]

You won’t believe the song that inspired this piece

Uploading this as a text post for those who don’t want to see blood

Married in red, better off dead.

And a version without the words:

[seoulzie]

범규; whispers of the unsleeping

───── orphic ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 (adj.) mysterious & entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding

synopsis: in the small city of yeosu, insomniac choi beomgyu seeks refuge in his school's abandoned astronomical observatory to catch some sleep. there, he encounters y/n l/n, a sociable and carefree girl who shares his struggle with insomnia. together, they form an unlikely friendship and revive their school's defunct astronomy club, spending their nights exploring the stars.

彡 pairing: beomgyu x f!reader 彡 genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers au, university au 彡 warnings: mentions of mental health & insomnia, parental abandonment (?) chronic illness, strong language, grief & loss

RELEASE DATE; 07/26/24 — this week, friday

index: prologue i. sleepless encounters capella ii. a place of our own vega iii. rekindling the stars proxima iv. phases of the moon, phases of us rigel v. cosmic challenge polaris vi. beyond the horizon altair vii. heart to heart betelgeuse viii. tomorrow's sunrise arcturus the end: epilogue

TAGLIST: OPEN! leave an ask in my inbox, reply to this post, or send me a dm!

CHOI BEOMGYU ( 21 ) ( M )

a student who struggles with trouble falling asleep most nights. consequently, he is irritable at school, always searching for an opportunity to find a secluded place to doze off. despite his gruff exterior, he is well-known around campus for his charming looks.

Y/N L/N ( 20 ) ( F )

a cheerful and enthusiastic student, the astronomy club president, whose secret battle with insomnia leads her to the solace of the astronomical conservatory at night. determined to keep her condition hidden, she finds refuge among the stars until she encounters another night owl, beomgyu.

PROLOGUE: CHAPTER 0 word count: 3.1k

another sleepless night. beomgyu stared up at the ceiling of his room, counting the cracks for the hundredth time. it was a game he played with himself when he couldn’t sleep, a futile attempt to trick his brain into shutting down. spoiler alert: it never worked.  he groaned, the sound echoing hollowly in the silent room, and threw an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the faint glow of dawn creeping through the dusty blinds. the alarm clock on his nightstand blinked 6:00 am in angry red numbers, a mocking reminder of the day looming ahead.

with a sigh that condensed the exhaustion clinging to him like a shroud, beomgyu rolled out of bed. every muscle screamed in protest, a dull ache thrumming through his limbs. he shuffled to the bathroom, his movements heavy with sleep deprivation. his reflection in the mirror looked as shitty as he felt—dark circles under his eyes, hair sticking up in every direction, and a permanent scowl etched on his face. he splashed some cold water on his face, hoping it would wake him up enough to function through another hellish day at school.

he reached for his usual blue and white striped tube of toothpaste, but his fingers met only the cold, hard plastic of the sink. panic clawed at his throat. empty. of course, it was empty. why wouldn't it be? just his luck.

frantic, he rummaged through the cabinet under the sink, desperately searching for a spare tube. nothing. nada. just a half-empty bottle of mouthwash that reeked of peppermint and disappointment. he slammed the cabinet shut, the sound echoing through the small bathroom like a gunshot. “fucking hell.”

defeated, beomgyu straightened up, bracing himself for another blow. he hobbled over to his laundry basket, a tangled mess of unmentionables. he started digging, desperately searching for a matching pair of socks. hope flickered when his fingers brushed against soft cotton, then died a slow, agonizing death as he pulled out a lone, navy blue sock. where was its partner? had it been swallowed by a rogue dryer gremlin? eaten by a sock-hungry monster lurking in the washing machine?

beomgyu stared at the single sock in his hand, a monument to his perpetually bad luck. he was starting to think the universe had a personal vendetta against him. this wasn't just another day; it was a full-blown disaster waiting to happen, and he was just the hapless protagonist caught in the middle.

after throwing on his uniform and grabbing his backpack, he headed downstairs. his dad had already left for work, as usual. the house was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the chaotic mornings of his childhood before—stop it, he thought to himself. beomgyu shook off the unwelcome memories and grabbed a piece of toast on his way out.

he dragged himself to the front door, his feet protesting with each step. a splash of color outside his window caught his eye. mrs. han, his elderly neighbor, was kneeling by her rose bushes, her weathered hands wielding a watering can with surprising vigor. despite his fatigue, a small smile tugged at the corner of beomgyu's lips. mrs. han was a fixture in the neighborhood, a tiny woman with a heart as big as her prized hydrangeas.

"good morning, mrs. han," he managed, his voice rough from disuse.

she looked up, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a smile. "good morning, beomgyu. off to school already? you look a bit pale," she said with a motherly concern that always made him feel a flicker of warmth.

"just a little tired, mrs. han," he replied, offering a weak smile. "those history essays won't write themselves, you know."

mrs. han chuckled. "always busy, that's you. but remember, dear, rest is important too. don't you burn yourself out."

"i'll try my best," he promised, though the words tasted like ashes in his mouth. he knew the truth – sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford.

beomgyu continued his walk, the rising sun painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink. the usual sights and sounds of the morning held a peculiar distance, muffled by the fog in his brain. the bakery across the street, usually a source of enticing aromas, only offered a dull ache in his stomach – a reminder of the breakfast he hadn't bothered with.

as he neared the school gates, the sounds of chatter started to seep in, a rising crescendo of greetings and nervous laughter. he braced himself for the usual barrage of hellos and high-fives, his trademark charm already feeling strained. beomgyu wasn't just tired, he was running on fumes, his charisma a flickering candle in a hurricane of exhaustion.

just as he predicted, a cheerful voice chimed in from beside him. "beomgyu! looking handsome as ever this morning, even at this ungodly hour."

he turned to see yeri, a girl from his class with a smile as bright as her sunflower hair clip. she was notorious for her bubbly personality and her unashamed crush on him. usually, beomgyu would respond with a playful jab or a witty remark, adding to the innocent flirtation. but today, a single word was all he could muster.

"hey," he croaked out, a smile barely flickering across his lips.

yeri's smile faltered slightly. "everything okay? you seem...out of it."

he shrugged, the movement feeling like wading through mud. "just a late night studying." it wasn't a complete lie, but the truth felt too heavy to share.

"well," yeri continued, her voice losing a bit of its usual chirp, "don't let it get you down. math class first thing, right? let's just hope ms. choi isn't in one of her moods."

there was a time when such a comment would have sparked a playful banter, a shared groan about their least favorite teacher. today, beomgyu merely nodded, a hollow feeling settling in his chest.

despite his exhaustion, beomgyu couldn't help but notice the way heads turned in his direction, the whispered greetings, the stolen glances. he was undeniably popular, the school's resident charmer. but the weight of that popularity felt like a suffocating cloak.

a group of guys from the basketball team hollered a greeting, their voices echoing off the lockers. beomgyu offered a weak wave, the movement seeming to drain the last vestiges of his energy. a couple of girls from the dance club giggled as they passed, their eyes lingering on him for a beat too long. all he could do was muster a tired smile, the effort feeling monumental.

he reached his locker, the familiar combination numbers a blur in his sleep-deprived haze. as he shoved his books inside, a hand landed on his shoulder. it was kai, his best friend, his partner in crime (or at least, they were when beomgyu had the energy for crime fighting). kai, unlike beomgyu, was a beacon of energy, his perpetually ruffled brown hair and mischievous grin a constant source of amusement.

"dude, you look like a deflated balloon," kai commented, his voice laced with concern. "another night?"

beomgyu slammed his locker shut with a sigh that spoke volumes. "yeah," he mumbled, leaning against the cold metal for support.

kai's brow furrowed. "seriously, beomgyu. you've been like this for weeks. we talked about this already! you said you’d try anything besides looking like you haven't slept since kindergarten."

beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, a grimace creasing his face for a moment before smoothing out into a tired indifference. "yeah, yeah," he mumbled, more to himself than to kai. "it's whatever at this point."

kai's concern flickered, then died down as he picked up on the subtle shift in beomgyu's demeanor. he knew that tone – the one that said beomgyu was resigned, shutting himself off. pushing wouldn't help.

"alright," kai said, switching gears with the practiced ease, “come on, zombie boy. let's get to class before ms. choi starts discussing the square root of boredom."

the morning dragged on, each class blending into the next in a haze of exhaustion and boredom. beomgyu could barely keep his eyes open, let alone focus on the lectures. 

his first class was math, and he trudged to his seat, slumping down with a heavy sigh. he rummaged through his bag, only to realize he had forgotten his pen.

“hey, taehyun,” he whispered to the boy sitting next to him. “got a pen i can borrow?”

taehyun glanced at him and chuckled softly. “forgot yours again? here.” he handed beomgyu a pen, shaking his head in amusement.

“thanks, man,” beomgyu muttered, trying to muster a grateful smile. he opened his notebook and attempted to take notes, but his eyelids felt like lead weights. the teacher’s voice droned on, a monotonous hum that only made him feel sleepier.

his head began to nod, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay awake. just as he was about to give in to the sweet embrace of sleep, he heard his name being called.

“mr. choi,” the teacher’s voice was sharp and reprimanding. beomgyu jolted awake, blinking rapidly.

“y-yes?” he stammered, sitting up straight.

“care to repeat what i just said?” the teacher asked, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

beomgyu’s mind went blank. he hadn’t heard a single word. “uh… something about calculus?” he guessed, hoping he was at least close.

the class snickered, and the teacher sighed in exasperation. “detention, mr. choi. maybe next time you’ll pay attention instead of dozing off in my class.”

beomgyu slumped back in his seat, cursing under his breath. “great. just fucking great,” he thought.

by the time lunch rolled around, beomgyu was ready to collapse. he shuffled towards the cafeteria, his head hanging low. he spotted his friends at their usual table and dragged himself over, the fluorescent lights feeling like a personal attack on his already throbbing head.

"yo, beomgyu!" yeonjun called out, waving him over. "you look like shit, man. rough night?"

beomgyu slumped into a chair, the metal groaning under his weight. a defeated grunt escaped his lips as he slumped his tray onto the table. "yeah," he mumbled, picking at his food with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

soobin, munching on an apple, raised an eyebrow. "again? dude, you really need to see a doctor or something."

beomgyu shrugged, picking at his food without much appetite. "what are they gonna do? prescribe me more useless meds? no thanks."

yeonjun leaned forward, concern etched on his face. "have you tried, like, meditation or something? i heard it can help."

beomgyu rolled his eyes. "yeah, 'cause sitting still and doing nothing is gonna magically cure my insomnia. thanks, but no thanks."

taehyun looked at him, frowning. "you really should try something, man. this can’t be good for you."

beomgyu sighed. "yeah, well, i’ve tried everything. nothing works. now i’ve got detention ‘cause i fell asleep in math."

taehyun winced. "harsh. what are you gonna do?"

"skip it, maybe. find a quiet place to sleep," beomgyu muttered, pushing his tray away.

beomgyu wandered the halls, his mind a jumble of thoughts and exhaustion. the school was a labyrinth of possibilities, each one fraught with its own set of risks and potential rewards. he needed to find the perfect place to nap, somewhere quiet and out of the way where no one would bother him.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) the janitor's closet

the first place that came to mind was the janitor’s closet. beomgyu had passed by it a million times, always noticing how the janitor, mr. lee, would leave it unlocked while he went about his duties. beomgyu headed towards the closet, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. he carefully turned the knob and slipped inside.

the closet was small and dark, filled with cleaning supplies and equipment. the smell of bleach and disinfectant was strong, but beomgyu didn’t care. he saw a small space behind a stack of boxes and decided it would have to do. he crouched down, wedging himself into the cramped space. the floor was cold and hard, but he was desperate for some rest.

he closed his eyes, trying to let the darkness and quiet lull him to sleep. just as he felt himself drifting off, the door creaked open. beomgyu’s eyes snapped open, and he held his breath. mr. lee stood in the doorway, a look of confusion quickly turning to annoyance on his face.

“hey! what are you doing in here?” mr. lee barked.

“shit,” beomgyu muttered under his breath. he scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding. “sorry, i—uh—i got lost?”

mr. lee narrowed his eyes. “out. now.”

beomgyu didn’t need to be told twice. he quickly slipped past the janitor and out into the hallway, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. so much for that.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) janitor’s closet 2) library

next, beomgyu decided to try the library. it was usually quiet, and he figured he might be able to find a secluded corner to catch some z’s. he made his way to the library, the scent of old books hitting him as soon as he stepped inside. the librarian, mrs. tanaka, gave him a stern look over her glasses, but he ignored her and began his search for the perfect spot.

the library was mostly empty, with only a few students scattered around, hunched over their books. beomgyu walked past the rows of shelves, looking for a place where he could hide from prying eyes. he found a spot in the back, behind a tall stack of books on astronomy. it was quiet, and he could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning.

he sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, and pulled his knees to his chest. the cool air and the silence were soothing, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy. just as he was about to drift off, he heard footsteps. he peeked around the stack of books and saw a group of girls walking towards him, giggling and chatting.

“great,” he thought. “just great.”

the girls didn’t notice him at first, but as they got closer, one of them spotted him. she nudged her friend, and they both started whispering and giggling even louder. beomgyu felt his face heat up with annoyance and embarrassment. this was definitely not going to work.

he got up, brushing the dust off his pants, and made his way out of the library, ignoring the stares and whispers of the girls. “too many people and out in the open,” he thought. scratch that idea.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) janitor’s closet 2) library

beomgyu trudged on, defeat clinging to him like yesterday's gym clothes. he formulated a mental list in his head, each possibility crumpling under the weight of potential interruptions. the rooftop? too exposed. the music room? a rogue trumpet could shatter any hope of sleep.

his weary eyes scanned the familiar halls, a sliver of hope flickering as he rounded a corner. there it stood, a solitary figure against the twilight sky—the astronomy tower.

the tower, a relic of a bygone era of scientific exploration. its once-gleaming silver exterior was now weathered and rusted, the windows dark and vacant. It had been years since anyone had ventured inside, rumors of asbestos and ghosts swirling around it like dusty cobwebs.

but for beomgyu, in his desperate search for a haven, the tower's isolation was a siren song. no students lingered in its shadow, no teachers patrolled its perimeter. in that forgotten corner, a flicker of hope ignited. it might be dusty, it might be creepy, but it could be perfect. as he neared the tower, the details became more pronounced: chipped tiles forming the entrance walkway, a rusty weather vane groaning in the faint evening breeze, and the peeling paint revealing the faded inscription "ad astra per aspera" - "to the stars through difficulties." an odd prickle ran down his spine. the inscription felt oddly fitting, a challenge on this day of immense hardship. could the tower, in its own dilapidated way, be his path to the stars? to sleep, the most elusive star in his current reality? the door was old and creaky, and it took a bit of effort to push it open. just as he was about to reach for the door handle, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

“fuck,” beomgyu muttered, feeling his shoulders slump in defeat. the observatory would have to wait. he decided then and there that he would check it out tomorrow during his free period. he turned and trudged back down the hallway, the prospect of a good nap tantalizingly out of reach.

⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @beombeomlovesme ⤷ want to get notified? click here!

© 2024 seoulzie

[iz1331]

Betelgeuse: You down to take couples counseling and see at what point the therapist realizes we barely know each other?

Lydia: Idiots to lovers, 20k words, angst with a happy ending.

[truefandemonium]

All the Time in the Netherworld

BJ xLydia — angst, fluff, short oneshot prompt

—————————————

Steam rose in ribbons from the mug of coffee between Lydia’s chilled hands like smoke from the rubble of a burned building.

Condensing on the window in front of her as rain fell beyond the glass, she convinced herself it was the steam that made her cheeks streaky and stained with makeup. A sigh fell from her lips, coming out far shakier than she meant it to, surely summoning (poor choice of words, she scolded herself) the ever-present Betelgeuse to her side.

Since the failed marriage to Rory, Lydia hadn’t exactly minded Betelgeuse’s presence in her life. In fact, he’d become almost part of the family.

As she dealt with the deaths of her father and Delia, BJ would keep Astrid from sinking too far into isolation. He would accompany her to school dances, bend metaphysical rules to help her get by— even tutor her. Not that Astrid needed much help in school. And yet she’d pretend for his sake.

She hadn’t called him dad, but some nights when the three of them curled up on the couch to watch movies, Lydia would catch her daughter leaning into him, jumping at the opportunity to have his protective arm wrapped around her shoulder and her head on his chest.

It was sweet. But Lydia was still broken.

Rory had hurt her worse than anyone had in a long, long time. Lydia, not for the first time in her life, felt unlovable.

She didn’t know how to fix it, and she certainly didn’t have anyone to talk to. Betelgeuse’s piercing eyes bored into the side of her face as she refused to look at him, her gaze pinned to the spattering rain outside.

“Hey toots,” the demon gruffed, a smirk crawling onto his stubbly face. When Lydia didn’t respond, he prompted, “What’s th’ matter, babes?”

Lydia blinked at the window, feeling more tears spring into her vision. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Betelgeuse waving one hand in her direction, flesh morphed into an awkwardly adorable kitten’s paw. “Cat got yer tongue?” he snorted loudly.

Normally Lydia would laugh. Not this time.

Betelgeuse’s smile fell away after a moment, his brow pulling into a deep furrow as he leaned forward in his own chair and blinked longingly in Lydia’s direction.

“Hey,” he said a little more sternly than his earlier jokes. “Lyds— y’know what ever’s th’ matter, I’m a great listener.” He holds out his arms idiotically, lips twisted in a charming, devilish smirk.

Lydia shook her head weakly, fearing that even if she tried to tell him everything that was on her mind, her voice would fail her before she could start.

Betelgeuse softened, the ghostly persona shifting for a few seconds to reveal the concerned man beneath. “Seriously.” His rough voice lowered, the rhythmic pounding rain almost drowning him out. “Talk to me, babes.”

Lydia heaved another deep sigh, finally looking over to see Betelgeuse dropping his chin onto his palm placidly, leaning in to listen.

Lydia swallowed hard and muttered dismissively, “It’s a long story.”

Betelgeuse smiled sweetly. Not a smirk, or a self important grin. A loving, adoring smile, his eyes practically filled with stars as he stared at Lydia’s teary face.

And he told her gently, “I have time.”

…

Based on this post: https://www.tumblr.com/iz1331/761567538205360128/this-is-the-last-for-this-week-fanfic-or-fanart

[hawkinsbnbg]

Welcome, you can call me Sione. I'm here to keep Steve Harrington well-loved and happy 🥰

You can also find me on ao3 under the same handle 💖

🌸 About Me 🌸

★ 24, she/they, bi

☆ Bottom Steve truther

★ This blog is for 18+ only.

🌸 Navigation 🌸

SFW: #sionewrites

NSFW: #sionewritesatmidnight

Incorrect quotes: #sione's silly thoughts

My rambling: #sione talks

🌸 Masterlist 🌸

flowers on your grave, dirt in my ribs (bury me in your bed and kiss me to sleep) Eddie presented as an alpha in the boathouse and Steve had to take care of him (omegaverse au, alpha4alpha, dead dove | 5k8 | complete)

brat (when daddy's not home) Frat boy Steve and drug dealer Eddie au (18k | complete)

kaleidoscope (let my desire eat you alive) A collection for Steddie Smutty September event. (8 works | complete)

betelgeuse Vampire Eddie got drunk on his boy's strawberry wine. (6k5 | complete)

remedy (drug me up, love me down) Steve wanted to numb his loneliness with drugs, but he ended up getting addicted to something better. (omegaverse au | 3k5 | complete)

honey bunny Eddie woke up to Jeff informing him that he had bought himself a bunny. He never cared much about the hybrids before, but it seemed he had to now. (bunny hybrid Steve au | 5k2 | complete)

a kiss on my lips Carol’s words kept circling in his head like a broken record. Munson is really good with his mouth. (omegaverse au | 1k5 | complete)

glacé (candied peach) Steve was convinced by Robin to attend Nancy's birthday party in a mini-skirt. What could go wrong? (omegaverse au | 11k8 | complete)

whiskey eyes Steve's first time bottoming (2k1 | complete)

burgundy kiss Steve got 'Good boy' inscribed on his buttcheek ( soulmates au | 6k5 | complete)

binary stars Sub alpha Eddie with puppy play. (omegaverse au | 3k7 | complete)

over loved Steve asked Eddie to shave his cunt for him. (2k8 | complete)

Poison Paradise A series of mob boss Steve and assassin Eddie ft. toxic relationships and bad bdsm etiquettes (omegaverse au | 3 works | complete)

baby, you're my angel Fem Steve who got insecure about being vanilla (1k2 | complete)

whaler Steve lost his hearing after a car accident. When he decided to spend his summer break at his aunt's in Hawkins, he didn't expect to make friends with a rockstar (17k5 | complete)

my dear, my love, a billion stars Post-divorced Steddie, light angst, hurt/comfort (2k | complete)

lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you miscarriage, angst, hurt/comfort (omegaverse au | 4k6 | complete)

🍒 Steve decided to be a tease and Eddie was weak to his boyfriend (2k3 | complete)

Rotten Heaven Monsterfucker!Steve (5k5 | completed)

Cherrie Amour Eddie took care of Steve after Starcourt blew up. (omegaverse au | 2k9 | complete)

I Was Made For Lovin' You Alpha4Alpha, no bitching, dom/sub undertone (8k1 | complete)

your name is a prayer on my tongue, sugar on my lips, but baby why does it hurt so bad? Fwb to lovers, accidental voyeurism, brief smut scene of Steve/MOC (6k7 | complete)

Rivals Turned Lovers? What A Cliché Exactly what says on the tin (7k5 | complete)

— Dividers are from @saradika-graphics

[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

BETELGEUSE

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~15.7k

⊲ previous

[May 11, 2022, 06:54pm, Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture, Restaurant X]

Rei couldn't feel the cold granite beneath his hands, only your heated skin. You were malleable for your age, and he could mold you into anything he wanted. Besides, you absorbed everything he told you like a sponge. As he washed his face with cool water, he tried to regain his senses so as not to lose face before his guest, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw the drawings he had made on your body.

"Eyes can fail you," he told every time he blindfolded you, and afterward all you felt was a blade cutting into your flesh. "You must learn to perceive the world through your other senses."

Before you could squeak, he liked to inject you with new doses of black orchid - he enjoyed watching you squirm and squeal in pain, and then go limp and docile, listening to his every word. At the very least, Rei expected you to thank him for the opportunity to be his favorite canvas, but you were so immobile and paralyzed that you wouldn't even look at him.

"You should rely on your surroundings," he instructed softly, cutting the skin on your back. "It will tell you exactly where the enemy is at all times."

The demon didn't care if you trusted him, if you followed his teachings - what mattered was that you were getting stronger every day, and more importantly, you were already struggling to keep your essence under control. He scrubbed his hands in the sink with irritation like he was washing away the sins your terrified gaze had left on him. There were no vices in the demon that required confession - he just wanted to show you who you really were even if you resisted it.

"Oh, does it hurt?" asked Rei affectionately, deliberately overdoing the dose of orchid. You shook, nearly throbbing from the flames that flowed through your veins instead of blood - like tiny shards of glass, the flower's extract cut you from the inside out. "If you want, I can take your pain away," he whispered, taking you by the chin. The closer his face got, the more your aching body tensed, and before he could kiss you, you sank your teeth into his lip with force, nearly tearing it off.

Rei was almost resigned to the way he looked now, his frail body a constant reminder of his lack of strength. He couldn't drag you down or strangle you with those hands, but seeing you in agony was the most beautiful picture. He had to do something.

"Oh, really?" the demon hissed, spitting saliva and blood. "Not into fucking with me anymore?" he laughed hysterically, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you across the dirty floor. The realization that you couldn't resist him, but only whimpered pitifully, spilled over him with a warm, sticky honey that he didn't want to wash off. When he opened the doors and saw his hungry parts, he tossed you to them. "Do what you want with her. Just bring her back at least half alive," he paused in the doorway, almost walking out - the demons didn't dare move until he was completely out of sight. "Oh, yeah, and don't touch her face. It's a pretty one," he grinned, watching you shake with panic, unable to do anything. "Have fun," Rei knew what would happen as soon as he left the room - where there were no windows and the doors were forever closed, tears would start to drown the paper airplane. And he stepped out.  

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so cruel to you, and you would have stayed by his side forever. Or at least on his side. There would have been no need to play catch-up, plotting and scheming to get your head off his shoulders - Rei really didn't want that, but you were poisoning his life and his parts a lot. "You're surprisingly calm," the voice in his head said.

"Is there any reason to be angry?" wondered Rei sincerely, looking at himself in the mirror - he was annoyed by the human tendency to blush due to emotion, physical exertion or stuffiness.

"Four, at least."

"Oh, you mean the cores?" he chuckled nonchalantly, tearing off the paper towels and rubbing his hands together maniacally. "Come on, what's to worry about?" the demon shrugged, dumping the papers into the bucket one by one. "You think I don't realize this little fool is just provoking me? Anyway, she doesn't have long left, how many more can she destroy? Three more?"

"Anyway, it's our land. Aren't you going to do anything about it?"

"Oh," he clicked his tongue in satisfaction and smoothed his black, disheveled hair. "That's what I'm doing right now. I thought it might be a good idea to return the favor," he smiled, frantically adjusting his tie - Rei couldn't leave his already faultless appearance alone. "God, she should be here by now!" the demon exclaimed worriedly, glancing at his watch.

As he stepped out of the men's room and into the restaurant's lounge, Rei saw the silver-haired girl at his reserved table. Straightening his back, he smoothed his suit with his hands one last time, and walked over and sat down across from the woman. "I hope you didn't get me out from overseas for nothing," Mei-Mei purred, giving him a hand.

Leaning down, he took her palm and kissed it. "Certainly not, my lady. I hope we work well together."

Grinning languidly, she pulled back her hand. "Don't misunderstand. I'm only here because Gojo told me about you. And also about the fee you promised him."

"Believe me, I'll offer you many times more," the girl's interested look excited him, interested him - the demon liked a compliant person with passion who was capable of going to over the heads for the sake of their desires. "You won't even have to move your dainty fingers, much less get them dirty," Rei assured her, and the more he told her, the more the girl counted the money in her head. "All I'll need is your powers of observation."

Mei-Mei gently tapped her fingernails on the table and decided to test the man sitting across from her. Rei had lived here for a very long time and he had no trouble reading her emotions - he uncorked a bottle of wine without hesitation. Smirking, she muffled her laughter embarrassedly against the palm of her hand. "To meeting," she cooed seductively, raising the glass filled to the brim.    

[May 11, 2022, 09:09pm, Hopetown]

The smell of late spring mingled with the scents of peach and nectarine - the immersion blender whirred quietly in the kitchen, the refrigerator door opened every now and then, and the glasses clinked quietly, unhappily, when they were touched. You watched Ieiri with curiosity, and as you saw how she handled the fruits, berries and alcohol, you thought for some reason that many doctors were probably alchemists in past lives. If those existed, of course. Shoko looked like she was in the operating room, the honed and deft movements of her hands making it impossible for you to see how she was getting the strawberries into the bowl.

You shivered as the wind blew into the room and disturbed you, shamelessly grabbing your wet body and tugging at your wet strands. You couldn't even get up to close the window, and from under your half-closed eyelids you could only watch the insolent raven that perched on your eaves and pecked at something. 

A quiet exultation crept into your head as you felt the soft couch beneath your body instead of the hard, cold ground covered with black sand. Having completed another raid and destroyed the core, you tried to enjoy the delights of this world - the warm spring air, the cool but endless water, the allure of all the various colors of this world that reminded you of itself by knocking on the window with the hands of the sunset, and Shoko, eternally impenetrable and cold. She hadn't looked in your direction before, and you felt an unfamiliar alienation every time you passed her, but now Ieiri had not only come to Hopetown with you, she had silently volunteered to spend time with you and Rachel.

Your happiness was only hindered by the fact that Rei didn't show up even when you destroyed the fourth core.

"I'm so tired," your sister sighed wearily, coming down from the second floor and rubbing her wet hair with a towel. There were dark circles under her green eyes, so heavy was the blow of the disembodied hand of exhaustion. "Next time, I'm going to the bathroom first," she huffed, sticking her tongue out at you and flopping down on the couch next to you. You, before you could wrap yourself more tightly in your terrycloth robe, were taken captive as Rachel unceremoniously sprawled on the couch, resting her head on your lap. "And how did doc let ya go?" wondered Rach, glancing at Ieiri. "We've got a lot of people out, and the infirmary's a busy place right now."

"I didn't bother asking," Shoko said nonchalantly, pouring the potion into two glasses. "It's simple."

You and your sister tightened your lips and looked at each other warily. Shoko seemed so unperturbed that she wasn't afraid of any consequences. Approaching you, the girl handed you a glass filled to the brim with ice and red-orange liquid and garnished with an orange slice - in her hands was the exact same one and another dark bottle. Rachel, snorting resentfully, crossed her arms over her chest. You took the glass and looked at your sister sympathetically - it looked like you all had to stick to a non-alcoholic diet, so as not to stir her soul. "And this is for you," Ieiri said to your sister, setting the non-alcoholic beer on the table.

The offended snort was immediately replaced by a pitiful whimper. "Thank ya," you chirped, comfortingly stroking your sister's head and sipping from the glass - what a relief it was to know that Rachel would never try it or else this temptation would have turned into another binge. The sweet pulp of the peach that coated your tongue, the warmth of the tequila that warmed your heart, and the aftertaste of the orange zest that completely obscured the flavor of the alcohol, making it unapparent - Shoko really was either a sorcerer or a witch.

Kicking the chair closer to you, Shoko sat down, relaxed, sipping her cocktail slowly under your sister's desperate gaze - she seemed to enjoy torturing people. No matter how much the girl had not praised Gojo, she seemed to have unconsciously adopted some of his habits. "What are your plans next?" she asked, throwing her legs straight over Rachel. 

"No raids yet!" exclaimed Rach exhaustedly but quickly, trying not to let you get a word in edgewise. "We'll wait until Mike's birthday at least, and then we'll see."

"It's still a month away," you objected, frowning unhappily.

"And?" Rachel didn't even have the energy to argue with the enthusiasm, she spoke sluggishly and quietly. "How much can we accomplish in a month? Start without me if ya want, and I've run away from my parenting duties for too long as it is."

Earlier in her soul, conscience had played the role of a small, almost invisible mentor - Rachel easily brushed it off and quickly extinguished the outbursts that it caused, but now, with a sober memory, shame took the dominant position and did as it pleased. She was angry at her father for not being around most of the time, and if the reflection in the mirror told Rachel that she looked nothing like him, her conscience told her otherwise. Mike's room was littered with expensive gifts and toys, but there was no hint of Rach's presence - no scent of perfume, no red hair on the floor, no her son's smile.

Rachel wondered - how could children love their parents despite all their faults? The girl thought that she was unworthy of such gratuitous love of a little person, and instead of wallowing in self-defeat and alcohol, she decided to do something else - brave, courageous, maybe even a little boorish because that was what she had always done. To leave behind the regrets, the thoughts that it might be too late. It wasn't as bad to be late as it was to not show up at all.

With a sigh, she pulled out her phone. Seeing her face softly contorted with longing, you rubbed the top of her head. "What's up?"

"Oh, man," she whined, staring at the screen. "Mike kept wanting that expensive model of the Boeing, and it's not on sale. See?" she turned the phone toward you, and you just caught a glimpse of 'sold out.' "I've been following this stuff for a month."

"Is this model only fish in the sea?" Ieiri wondered, skeptical. She didn't understand Rachel's whining or the despair on her face. Couldn't she just replace what was missing with what was there?

"Anyone can tell ya're childless," Rachel muttered, taking the phone from you and continuing her search. "Better get me a beer."

"Take it yourself," Ieiri grinned.

Rachel gave her a threatening look, but then smiled wryly. Her fingers deftly began dialing a number, and she gave one last warning glance at Shoko, who was sitting there, nonchalantly sipping her cocktail. "Hey, Doc?" Shoko's eyes immediately flew open, "Do ya know where your coworker is right now-" Ieiri, unable to remember herself, grabbed the nearest pillow and pressed it into your sister's face - her loud voice was replaced by a muffled scolding, and the phone fell out of her hands. Ieiri immediately picked it up and frantically punched the disconnect icon several times.

The pressure point was found unhindered - no matter how unperturbed Shoko seemed, she was still afraid of something. Or rather, someone. The big man in the white coat who was in the infirmary and demanded the same of Ieiri, but as much as she loved money, she wasn't a robot. Fear was literally read on her face and in the way she pressed the icy glass to her flushed cheek. With a relieved exhale, Shoko tossed the phone to Rachel and tiredly plopped into a chair. "Ya forgot something," Rach extended slyly.

Rolling her eyes, Shoko stood up and handed her the bottle. Perhaps if you weren't here, Ieiri would have just smashed it over your sister's head. "That's better," Rachel sent the girl an air kiss and uncorked the cap, but as soon as your sister took a sip, she wrinkled her nose squeamishly. "God, what a shit."

"Get used to it," Shoko hissed, pleased with Rachel's ordeal.

"That's it, get off me," you whimpered, lifting your sister's head. "My leg fall asleep," you stood up from the couch and picked up Shoko's empty glass from the table and went to get a refill.

Rachel, pressing her lips together, stood up and lay down on the other side of the couch, her whole face showing her resentment at your neglect. Only now the girl remembered how much love she really had in her, which couldn't be showered on Mike alone - an immature boy could just be blown away by this wave, and you, as it happened, remained an impregnable fortress. You shied away from long hugs and kisses and avoided tactility as much as possible, but Rachel couldn't be angry with you; she was angry with the situation as a whole.

At such moments the girl remembered her husband. Rob may have been a slovenly lazy man who couldn't even put cotton swabs on place, but he'd always gladly accepted her obsessiveness and loveliness - for lack of an opportunity to give them to him again, she'd begun to choke them down with wine, and her son served only as a reliable reminder that she'd never fall into her husband's arms again. "Ya know," she chuckled wistfully, putting the phone aside. "Ya can't imagine how many times in the void I've thought about running across my husband's corpse right now," shy tears glistened in her eyes, and all she could see was Rob's face. "And even more I thought about how he could have come out of the void and just left me and Mike," his features began to drown in with dark sand - she couldn't see the wrinkles or the color of his eyes anymore. "I didn't know whether to cry or be angry, and now... When we finished this roundup, I suddenly felt relieved. I don't know if he's still walking this land or if he's been buried under strange one for a long time, but I accept it. May God be with him," she sobbed, taking a sip of non-alcoholic beer, hoping to soften the lump lodged in her throat.

Your hand nearly trembled as you filled your glass. As your tongue became more and more tied in a knot, in your sister's imagination, the sand increasingly covered her husband. Would you ever find the courage to admit it? "But I have a tiny bit of him left," Rachel wept, smiling bitterly. Walking over to the girls, you handed Shoko her glass - she nodded gratefully, blurring the estrangement between you all the more. Sitting down on the couch, you threw your sister's legs over your lap and began stroking her ankles, though you realized it wouldn't atone for your sin. "And now I'll do anything for Mike. Buy him every model airplane in the world, take him wherever he pokes on the globe, kill for him or die myself. "As long as he's happy."

There was silence in the living room, with only a modest, brief sniffle of the nose. Shoko wondered, and she was frightened at the thought that there might be someone in her life who would make her think that way. Self-sacrifice and bravery were not qualities that Ieiri praised; she was content to be practical and sensible, but as she heard Rachel's ragged breathing, she shamefully brushed away a tear.

Rachel, hastily wiping her wet cheeks with her terrycloth sleeve, sipped some more from the bottle - she could only justify her dizziness as a placebo effect. "Geez, did I ask for much?" she laughed, trying to lighten the dreary atmosphere. "I just wanted a bunch of men praying on me."

You glanced meaningfully at Shoko and decided to play along. "We could buy you a lifetime prayer for health in a friary," Ieiri offered seriously, but she betrayed her playfulness by waggling her foot coquettishly, either on purpose or involuntarily.

"That'll do too," Rachel sighed dreamily. "Also, we should talk about a place to celebrate... What do ya think about an amusement park?"

"Is it safe?" you asked hesitantly.

"Mike has to live in this town for the rest of his life or what?" snorted Rachel. "He's almost an adult and he hasn't seen the light of day yet!"

"Whatever ya say," you said, rolling your eyes.

Shoko had never understood how people felt when they looked at pictures of babies, kittens, puppies or the tiniest of snakes - she felt a little less than nothing when she looked at it. But looking at your sister's instantaneous mood swings and the way you supported her unconditionally, Shoko felt emotion for the first time. Now it was her turn to dream. Could she really have someone close to her who wouldn't pester her, trying to get on her nerves by saying she was too cold and unemotional? Wouldn't look down on her, letting her know that she is far from their level? Wouldn't they leave just because their view of the world had changed? She glanced furtively out the window, confused, trying to find answers, but all she could see was a raven still perched on the ledge, pecking at something.

[May 12, 2022, 01:29am, Hopetown]

The open window had been a constant for you ever since you'd started sleeping together. If nightmares and Rei had taken away your sleep before, now it was the heat from the sorcerer's snow-white skin that did it. In your half-sleep, you kept trying to pull away from Gojo, but at those moments his grip grew from just tight to unusually insolent - even in his dreamless slumber he couldn't leave you alone. You couldn't complain, though, because instead of the bloody images before your eyes and the sharp pain of long-healed scars, you felt only a single drop of sweat trickling down your neck. 

Gojo's deep, measured breathing was a metronome for you - each time you breathed in unison with him, you calmed down more, and when you exhaled together, you fell further into a half-sleep. The feeling of a protected back made you cling to him more despite the abnormal temperature of his body. It was like the sorcerer wasn't asleep at those moments, just holding you tighter and burrowing into your neck, letting you know he wasn't going anywhere.

On the other side of your closed eyes, absurd scenarios were beginning to emerge. There was Doc putting someone's severed arm back in place with duct tape, there was Frank trying to grow hair in the beds, and just as you stepped aboard the pink icebreaker, you felt someone bite your arm. The bite was faint, almost insensible, and you, wanting to check who it was, turned around. There was no one in front of you. "Y/N-ie," came a quiet, thin voice from somewhere below. Lowering your head, you rounded your eyes. Standing in front of you was Tris, who was cradling a stuffed cat. "Y/N!"

"Huh?" you jumped up, not quite realizing where you were now or what year it was. There was a muffled grunt behind you, and the grip around your waist was so strong that it was hard to breathe.

When you blinked, you distinguished reality from your dream - Tris was standing in front of you along with the toy - the girl was pocking at the floor with her toe, her lips pursed guiltily. "Bun," you sighed sleepily, wiping your eyes with your hand. "What is it?"

"I need a craft for class tomorrow," she muttered modestly, not looking up. You were speechless at that statement, only able to reach for your phone to look at the time. It was past one in the morning.

You plopped your face into the pillow tiredly. "Whose problem is that?" you muttered muffled, for which you received a hard pinch on your side. "Ouch!"

"Come on, get up," Gojo said sleepily, rising up. "Can't you see the kid needs help?" he asked reproachfully, trying to make you feel guilty. "And you, little one, come here," his cocky threat made Tris backpedal, but he quickly crawled over you and grabbed the little girl. "So what kinda craft do we need?" 

"A fox in the woods," Tris giggled playfully, swinging her legs.

"How original," he clucked his tongue. "What were the orders to make it out of?"

"Said to impro… improvise," Tris mewed, beginning to chew on a nail on her thumb.

A sudden desire played in him to cut off her bad habit immediately. "Aren't you scared?" he asked slyly, lifting the girl even higher.

"No!" she snorted haughtily. "Frank carries me in his arms every day. And he's actually taller than you."

Gojo raised his eyebrows in exasperation and threw Tris over his shoulder - she shrieked. "Your upbringing," he shook his head censoriously, looking at you - you only shrugged guiltily. "Alright, I'm gonna go put her to sleep, and you, young lady, get dressed. Let's go improvise in the woods," the sorcerer mentored before dragging a giggling Tris out the door. 

"Maniac," you plopped back on the bed exhaustedly, spreading your arms. When had Tris been assigned this craft? Why hadn't she mentioned it the day before, or at least a few hours ago? And her whole innocent and guilty look - was it sincere or had she just learned how to manipulate people from someone? If so, she was pretty good at it - your injured side was still tingling from the way Gojo had pinched it, jumping up and ready to help Tris.

You pulled yourself off the bed, dragging tiredly with legs, and walked over to the closet, swinging the door open angrily. With your arms at your sides, you sighed and grabbed the first thing you saw without looking. You took off your pajamas and realized that even the clothes made a mockery of you - it took a lot of effort to zipper up your jeans, and your head was stuck halfway up the collar of your sweatshirt.  

You sat down on the bed and sighed indignantly into your collar. When the door swung open, you met Gojo's confused stare. It took him a second to realize what was happening. At first, he tried not to move, then he bit his lip, but when you whimpered, the sorcerer broke. "Wait a minute," he wheezed, grabbing his phone. Gojo knew he should have helped you, but he couldn't even help himself.  "It's for the record," you were blinded for a moment by several flashes, and you squirmed and tried to hide - just then his heart stirred. "God, honey, I'm sorry," he cooed through a smile, stepping closer and helping you out of bed. You'd already resigned to your fate, obediently letting him help you.

The sorcerer gently pulled the collar down and released you from the soft captivity of the fabric. "I don't wanna go anywhere!" you whimpered, throwing your head back. "I'm tired!"

"Honey, I know, I know," he tried to reassure you, stroking your cheeks and kissing your forehead. "But Tris is a much bigger baby than you are today," Gojo could have sworn he saw the way you were pouting your lips. "At least we'll walk around for a while, freshen up," he encouraged you. "You couldn't sleep well tonight anyway," you squinted at him, and the sorcerer faltered. It was hard for him not to hear you panting and sighing, but it was harder not to feel your body squirming against his. "You sleep longer tomorrow morning, and I'll make breakfast, 'kay?"  

"Mark my word," you sighed exhaustedly. "She'll sit on your neck like that."

"I have broad shoulders," he grinned, grasping at the lifeline of your words to swim out of the maelstrom of embarrassment. "I can handle you, too, by the way."

"Oh, man," you brushed off his joke. "Better get changed, Apollo. I'll wait for ya downstairs."

"I have nothing to be shy about!" shouted Gojo after you.  

As you carefully made your way to the first floor, you were surprised not to see Tris there. You'd expected to see her right at the door, already dressed upside down, complaining and yelling that she'd come with you despite the dull night outside the window - It was her dubious temper. But she was not here. You scratched your forehead thoughtfully and began to pull on your shoes. How had Gojo bribed her? Reading a fairy tale was out of the question - too little time had passed. Sleeping pills? You made a puzzled grimace - your thoughts were too unobvious and strange when you woke up. You had to get the sorcerer's secret of calm because you couldn't keep that girl still for more than a minute.  

As Gojo quietly snuck up on you and just as silently dressed, you walked out the door, leaving the house in peace and quiet. Wrapped in the night spring air, you moved towards the path of life that ironically came to life only once a year. Sleep dispelled to the chirping of crickets and rare cicadas that sang in defiance in the middle of the night oblivious to the sunny day. As you stepped off the road and into the dark sleeping forest, you searched with your eyes for the best leaves that would be suitable for crafts, occasionally sighing for the fall - this beauty would provide you with a variety that was beautiful in its colors. The forest whispered and trembled, its shy movements reflected in the moonlight on the grass in shadow. The branches, seeing familiar faces, hid their threats and saw you off with a smooth sway. "What are we gonna make the fox out of?" you asked, stepping over the roots.

"Hmmm," Gojo drawled thoughtfully, looking around. The forest, as it was, was monotonous and green. "How about we cut a few strands off Rachel's hair?" you glanced at him skeptically, dumbfounded by such a suggestion. You simultaneously pursed your lips and shook your heads together, imagining the horrors that would happen to you. "Nah, bad idea."

"I'll have to look for plasticine," you yawned, stretching.

You picked up randomly fallen leaves, sometimes the sorcerer would pick you up so you could reach the one you liked. Your pockets were filling up more and more with resources for crafting - pinecones, small twigs, pine needles that sometimes pricked your fingers. You walked forward, deep into the forest, completely oblivious to the fact that you would have to return someday. "Mochi?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you find her?" asked Gojo, remembering his first encounter with Megumi.

"Just like everyone else here," you shrugged. "A little over seven years ago, we decided to check all the barracks again for some reason before we roundup. I remember going into one, starting to look around, and... I noticed a woman lying right under wood boards. She was already dead, but I remember her stiffened hands were clutching some lump of rags. I don't even know why I looked," the sorcerer's soul whispered admiringly and sympathetically for him to embrace you, and it was right - feeling a hand on your shoulder, you took your eyes off the ground. "I thought the baby was dead, too, but no. She moved as soon as I looked at her. We took her away and wanted to do what we do with all children - put her in the hands of the church for foster care. But for some reason I couldn't. That's how she stayed with us."

Gojo laughed quietly, encouragingly. "She was born a fighter. And she remains that way," he added more quietly.  

You, remembering Tris' temper, chuckled as well. "Kinda." 

Nearby you could hear the sound of water crashing restlessly against the rocks. You knew these places practically by heart, and you realized that you were getting closer and closer, but your consciousness did not shudder in fear at the thought that Gojo might see it. On the contrary, your soul sang with dauntless bravado, and you realized with embarrassment that you just wanted to show off. Just a little bit. You deliberately stepped forward, regardless of the fact that all the materials had long since been gathered. 

On the horizon, something dark - much darker than the forest beneath the moon - peered out from behind the trees. All the water was silent, and the whispering leaves were quiet before the permanent guest you were restlessly approaching. The closer you came, the more majestic the huge, deaf, black box towered above your heads. It had no transparent windows or welcoming doors - it just stood there, hidden among the trees, making no sound and not allowing the rest to disturb the peace. Not the animals, nor nature itself. "Whoa," Gojo marveled quietly, barely stopping a few feet away from the box. He had never felt like a little boy before, nor could he be called short, but next to this dark gap he felt like an ant. "And this...?"

"The heart of the town," you sighed mesmerized, nodding your head. "It can't be seen from above, and even if someone were lucky enough to sneak into the town, they wouldn't find their way to it. It's only accessible to its keepers," no matter how much you looked at the repository, no matter how many times you stomped around it, you never went inside - that burden fell on Frank's shoulders. "There now lies the artifact that supplies us with electricity and empowers the hunters' relics to protect the town. So... Without the artifact, they'd just be useless trinkets," contrary to your enthusiastic narrative, you're wary. How long will the amulet you got in Cambodia last? Wouldn't you soon have to start bouncing around the land again in search of curiosities? If it had thrilled and delighted you before, you couldn't find the same enthusiasm now. After all, it only meant that you would be apart again. 

"How many keepers are there?" Gojo asked softly, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. He already knew the answer to his question - at least part of it - but he couldn't stop his insolence and greed under the guise of interest. It wasn't enough for him that you'd first bared your neck, then your shoulders, and then told him the secrets you'd never told yourself. He wanted to drown in your trust, which was embarrassingly lapping at his shore in brief waves - Gojo wanted to catch every single one, to save a single salty drop of it. The sorcerer had become too obsessed with your vulnerability, which was revealed only to him alone. 

"Three now," you said weakly. "Frank, Rach, and me."

Gojo could almost hear your thoughts and the way they screamed, interrupting each other. Surprise clashed with indignation, worry caught up with confidence, uncertainty clawed at the throat of exhilaration. Every step you took towards him was difficult, but now the sorcerer stood here with you, right in front of the heart of the town, not on the other side of your workroom door. You couldn't even look Gojo in the eye - was the doubt so great and dangerous that you did whatever it told you to do? The sorcerer winced in pain - your thoughts screamed loudly, but he couldn't make out the words. "Hey, guide," he grinned, bringing you to your senses and wanting to get you away from this place - it was affecting you too badly. And, it seemed to Gojo, on your relationship with him, too. "Let's go home. We have a fox to make." 

In Hopetown, unlike at headquarters, the evenings were slow and lazy - there was no desire to get out of bed at all. Danielle, nestled comfortably on Megumi's chest and covered with a blanket, watched a movie - they'd chosen it for about an hour only to struggle to keep their eyes open. Every touch, every hug was imbued with a serenity that was sorely lacking in the girl - she almost stopped shaking as she closed her eyes and mentally found herself back in that horrible day.

Dany was grateful that you hadn't said anything to Megumi - which was probably why the boy was lying next to her now, ordinarily calm, watching the movie. But still, in the back of the girl's mind or maybe on the very surface of it, lay the desire to tell her boyfriend about what she had done for him. Danielle stopped every time, asking herself why she needed it and where it would lead, and all the scripted and fictionalized scenarios boiled down to the fact that she needed to see his concern. Attacks of such selfishness came more and more often, but contrary to breaking Danielle, they made her stronger - the girl looking at her favorite face full of peace already brushed them off with ease. He didn't need to know about it. She didn't want to think about the consequences of her silence, but what could happen if she opened her mouth frightened her even more. Megumi's anxiety could spiral into paranoia, and what if he started blaming himself for what had happened to her? What if his regrets became so enormous that he could no longer look her in the eye? The pesky, unpleasant questions swirled in her head until she finally decided to stay in that boat, to stop rocking it.

Still, every touch of Megumi's fingers reminded Dany that she was no longer worthy of it - false, fake, nasty beliefs trampled their way into the girl's head, making her cringe every time Megumi smoothed her hair. "Dany?" he turned to her softly, stroking her shoulder. She flinched and looked at him questioningly. "Remember when we made the butterfly?"

"Ah...," she drawled carefully. "Yeah, I remember."

"Why don't we try again?"

She frowned. It was an odd request because they hadn't tried it again since that time, which was why it took her by surprise. Danielle lifted up, and the heated blanket rustled and fell from her shoulders onto the bed. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"What do you mean why?" laughed Megumi, causing the girl to blush embarrassedly. "Don't you wanna... Well, perfect it?" the boy's every word intended to ratchet up his excitement, his voice nearly breaking from the overabundance of feelings and adrenaline. His knees didn't shake like this before curses, but one glance at the watch on his hand and he would definitely fall down if he wasn't sitting on the bed right now.

"Okay," she said hesitantly, still squinting suspiciously.

The way they sat across from each other hit Dany with nostalgia right on the back of the head, a blow so strong it made her head spin. She had only yesterday ceased to be a teenager, and it would seem that she should have experienced all the unknown emotions long ago and stopped being afraid of them and trembling in front of them, but the excitement that swept over her was much stronger than her childhood feelings.

Megumi knew that cheating would be necessary here and he hoped Dany would never figure him out. He wanted the butterfly to come out perfect this time, and since both cursed and dark energy were now flowing through him, why wouldn't he help his girl? After all, he was going to forever be her shoulder and the bastion of all her hopes and dreams, so why not start with something small?

He covered her small hands with his and nodded, glancing up at her with glittering eyes, but Dany squeezed her eyes shut, either out of fear or excitement. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the sight - she looked exactly like a child waiting for a miracle. As he began to infuse energy, all he could feel was the warmth of Dany's hands. Something tickled her palms, and she opened one eye with a giggle - a faint blue glow was seeping through their fingers. "Well," he began embarrassedly, smiling. "Do you wanna see it?"

"Yes," she giggled.

They opened their hands at the same time, slowly - a small butterfly sat inside. There was no flaw in it, the patterns on its fluttering, cursed wings ran and shimmered in the same way. Its predecessor was less than perfect, and most people would probably call it ugly upon barely seeing its different wings and crooked antennae, but the pair of lovers knew that it was only their imperfect beginning. One could vilify and berate even the one that now sat in their hands - the blue color wasn't blue enough, the wings were too small, but that didn't make the butterfly any less beautiful. The butterfly had been created by and for the love that had been born between two people.

Dany gasped in surprise when a butterfly fluttered up and flew toward the window. "We have to open it," she worried, jumping up from her seat. The butterfly was beating its wings fiercely against the glass like it had spent its whole life dreaming of freedom. Dany, carefully opening the shutters so as not to disturb their shared creation, could only watch as the tiny blue light flew away from her, merging with the horizon - at that moment Megumi realized he was ready. To hold her on cold nights, to swipe the custard of brownies off her lips, to watch the most boring movies with her, to return to her from the void again and again. Alive. "Danielle," the girl tensed when Megumi called her by her full name. Taking the frozen girl by the waist, he turned her around to face her. "I really don't know how to do this right," he admitted honestly in a breaking voice. Her knees grew weak when she heard the clattering and clinking, and Dany tried to keep her head straight, afraid to look at her boyfriend's hand, suspecting that right now he was taking the watch off of them. "I'm not familiar with your traditions, and I don't know about whether I should get down on one knee," Dany, realizing she was about to pass out, began breathing hard and often, practically gulping for air with her mouth. "But please, answer me," a sob full of pain and happiness escaped the girl's scarlet lips, and the cold metal that coiled around her wrist burned her skin with yet untold promises. "Will you marry me?"

"How can ya do this...," the crying made her voice shake harder, the tears that rolled down her cheeks choking her, and the barely buried memories breaking through all the fresh ground slapped her in the face, reminding her of what she was like. Dany had feared that their happiness wouldn't last forever, that sooner or later it would come to Megumi that he deserved better, but there was no way she had expected such a sharp turn in the exact opposite direction - completely knocked off her feet and confused, she could only mumble unintelligibly through her tears. "How can ya say that, how can ya look at me like ya used to, when I'm so... dirty?

The girl's pain became his - he couldn't stand the agonizing tension that was crushing both of them, and he pressed his lips to hers, muffling her sobs. Dany didn't give in, but she didn't resist either, only placed her palms on his chest, not so much to push him away as to feel his warmth. Megumi was too insistent and firm in his decision - pulling Dany by the waist and pressing her against him, he deepened the kiss with a gentle movement of his tongue, making the girl dissolve into him, and she had nowhere to retreat - the love of her life was ahead of the girl, and behind her was the windowsill and the pain left by bitter memories.

With difficulty he pulled away from her, panting straight to her lips, he cupped her flushed wet cheeks. "Don't ever say that again," he commanded quietly. "The truest filth is the one who did this to you, and you... You're everything to me. And I want you to be even more, just say 'yes', please," he begged, pulling her frail body against him and burrowing into her neck.

The laughter that filled the room was full of weeping, longing, and relief. Danielle nodded frantically and wrapped her arms around his neck, the watch on her arm rattling - a reminder of the delayed happiness that was rushing toward her.

They stood huddled together, reminding each other of their bleeding wounds. The path was far and winding, each branch leading either to the abyss or straight into the arms of death. There was only one way that led to freedom, and they had learned by experience that they could never reach that faraway light alone. Megumi, having gained another power, was sure that now he could protect his bride from all the troubles, and the short name of that power was not in the dark lines, not in the energy that sometimes spilled over the edge - putting all the meaning of life into it and asking for its protection, people called it love. "Want to finish the movie?" smiled Megumi softly, rocking Dany from side to side.

"Actually," she began, mumbling shyly into his shoulder. "I'd like to tell Y/N," the excitement and awe still hadn't receded, but anxiety came along with it - Dany didn't know at all what she was supposed to do tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, a month from now. She needed help, and having learned from the past, she was ready to open the door to her worries and secrets. "If ya don't mind, of course."

"Okay," Megumi agreed, not saying a word about the fact that you were already aware of his intentions - the boy didn't want to ruin her sense of hidden celebration and take away the opportunity to tell her everything herself. "I need to let someone know too," he snorted irritably, making Dany giggle.

They, happy and clutching each other and their hands, went into your room first, but it was empty. Megumi, frowning his eyebrows, wondered. You all just finished the raid yesterday, where could you have gone? You should have been resting, where else could you relax if not in your room? Did you slip away on another scouting mission? If you did, why didn't you bring him with you?

Worried and almost insulted, he tried not to show it in front of Danielle. The girl was glowing for the first time in a long time, and a beaming, embarrassed smile never left her face. Megumi hummed, shaking his head. He shouldn't have gotten himself worked up ahead of time. Deciding to go downstairs, all of his doubts were dispelled, and he almost felt ashamed that he had time to get mad at you for making up his own problems because he and Dany were greeted by two half-asleep faces on the couch in the living room.

You and Gojo did Tris's craft until morning, and when it was time to go back to bed, you were blinded by the rising sun and the sound of a child's voice asking for food. You decided not to go to bed to get back into a routine that you'd regretted a thousand times before - the battle with sleep was unequal and unfair, especially in each other's warm embrace. You offered him more than once to unwind or at least to get off the couch, but the sorcerer, sighing lazily, stopped all your tries at rebellion, pressing you to him with a heavy hand, cutting off all attempts to retreat. 

"What is it?" you drawled tiredly, blinking hard, trying to fix the floating silhouettes in front of your eyes.

"We, um...," the boy's tone was like he was apologizing for the thousands of crimes he'd committed, and you tensed up from the couch, and Gojo lost sleep as well - he squinted his eyes, staring at the pair expectantly. He knew Megumi too well, and that tone boded either good things or nothing good at all. "I proposed to Dany," he stated firmly, shifting a determined gaze from you to Gojo, and Danielle was the direct opposite of him - the girl picking at the floor with her toe, shyly lowering her. 

Caught off guard, you're numb. You only just noticed the watch on Dany's hand. Megumi told you that he intended to do it, but he didn't say when he would do it. Did he tell Dany that you knew everything? If not, you didn't want to take away her opportunity to be first in everything, but you didn't have time to think about your actions. "Oh my gosh," you marveled deliberately loudly, gasping and clutching at your heart.

Gojo was immediately alarmed, jumping up from the couch and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "Why are you driving your mother crazy?" he spat out angrily, and all Megumi wanted to do was fall to the ground in shame. "Honey, where's the sedative?" 

"There, in the medicine cabinet ...," you waved at the top kitchen drawer without getting out of character. "It's a transparent bottle..."

It took the sorcerer exactly seven seconds to find the sedative, open it, take out a glass, pour water into it, and be at your side. Gojo seemed to be the only one who believed in your performance - so naive and gullible Megumi had never seen him before. "What's the act?" the boy grimaced, watching as he held out water and pills to you. "You're the first to know about everything." 

You stared at Megumi with wide-open eyes, stung by the betrayal, and then glanced furtively at Gojo - he too was staring at the boy with glassy eyes, still not giving you the pill and the glass. "Satoru, I can explain," you grumbled guiltily, but it was too late - he popped the sedative into his mouth and drank water all in one. 

"You sleeping on the couch tonight. Alone," the sorcerer said blankly, handing you the pills - you took the bottle with the empty glass, confused. It would take him about five minutes alone to recover from the betrayal you'd made with your silence.

"Where are ya going?" you shouted back at him, but Gojo waved you off and walked outside, slamming the door behind him.

"You do realize he's just kidding, right?" feeling guilty for the rift in your relationship, Megumi tried to smooth things over, but you, already pursing your lips, stared at him grimly.

"Couldn't ya play along?" you snorted, but contrary to what you said, you found yourself standing beside the kids, clasping them in your arms - they barely fit in your arms, and the boy was almost a head taller than you. "Congratulations!" you whispered into their ears, kissing Dany on the cheek, who winced a little at the prickling sensation of your mask biting her.

Danielle was still confused - too much had happened in the last few minutes - from the touching to the punning - and her heart could barely keep up. Thinking she could use a sedative too, she sat down on the couch, trying to calm down a bit. The fact that you knew Megumi's intentions didn't upset her because it only meant that his move wasn't just a simple impulse - it was a warmed-over, time-honored desire that he'd discussed with you. 

"So... what your plans?" you asked, plopping down next to Danielle. Megumi sat straight down on the floor, across from you, and tucked his legs up.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "I proposed literally just now, so we haven't had time to think it over," he sarcastically quipped.

You didn't realize that such an advantage would fall right into your hands, your main goal became to grab onto it as tightly as you could. "Megumi, ya're a hunter now," you remarked. "And Dany was born into those circles. And it's customary for us to hold all our weddings in Hopetown," you didn't care about tradition, and to your shame, you hardly gave safety a second thought, but the wedding was the perfect opportunity to check out the town. "I hope ya don't mind."

"Not at all!" exclaimed Danielle enthusiastically, and a lump rose in your throat - how long had it been since you'd seen her like this? Her eyes were still drowned in the blue circles beneath them, she was thin as a reed, you were sometimes afraid to let her outside - one strong gust of wind and she'd just break. But happiness filled her from the inside and spread like a virus, infecting everyone around her. Megumi, mesmerized by her jubilant glow, hummed quietly. Truth be told, remembering how the town looked on the fifth of December, he didn't mind having the wedding here.

You had a lot more to discuss, but without the man's ears. The date, what dress to choose, hairstyle, flowers. What part of town to hold the event, what decorations to choose, what time of day. Arrange with the holy father, decorate the place where the two hearts will be joined and inform the residents. You'll have to calculate food supplies, and, most importantly, wine.

You and Dany seemed to be thinking the same thing, for when you looked at each other, you giggled softly, not noticing that the raven sitting on the window sill had its head tilted to the side and was peering at you with beady black eyes.

"Mike!" shouted Rachel, trying to catch up with her angry son. The boy literally flew forward, driven by injustice and frustration, not noticing the crowd of people chattering and cheering around him. The sweet smell of popcorn and ice cream no longer brought him excitement and delight, on the contrary - the boy felt nauseous at any reminder of food. Being still a child, he couldn't quiet his tears, and sobs of resentment escaped his lips now and then. "Baby, wait!" Mike abruptly threw his mother's arm off his shoulder, not listening to her at all, and tried to run forward, but his running was equal to his mother's quick footstep. "Ya realize I'm bigger and faster, don't ya?" she slyly sneered, scooping him up in her arms. Mike, because of his age, was confident in his supposed independence - he began to kick and struggle, looking around in embarrassment at passersby who he thought were looking at him reproachfully. "And stronger still," she reminded him. "Mike, calm down. If ya think ya're an adult, then act like one. Ya know what they usually do?" she asked playfully, looking at her angry son. "They talk."

Somewhere close by, a coaster with people squealing with fear and merriment raced down tracks. Rachel tried to keep her composure in front of her son, but her motherly heart bled at the thought that her son's birthday had been ruined. And it was all the fault of some little thing that had been a complete disaster for the boy. "What's got ya so upset?"

Mike ripped the toy medal off his chest and threw it to the ground. "That's for losers!" he howled, unwilling to bear the stigma of mediocrity he'd made up for himself.

Sighing, Rachel walked over to the nearest bench and sat her still mad son down - the resentment was so strong that the boy quickly weakened, losing all will to resist. He looked down at his wobbling legs which didn't reach the ground - another reminder that he was still a child.

The impressions from dozens of attractions were completely overridden by one loss in some godforsaken shooting gallery. When Mike saw a radio-controlled car as a prize for the first place, he thought that he would easily take it, but his expectations and dreams were shattered by the very first shot - the bullet flew a few inches away from the target. So it happened with the second and the third, and no matter how much the boy tried, he never got the required number of points. At the end he was given only a consolation medal. "Baby," Rachel turned to him gently, stroking his head. "What makes ya think it's for losers?"

"Stop calling me that!" snapped Mike, yanking her hand away.

Her son was sitting in front of her - she should have put out her temper immediately. "If I want to, I'll call ya that for the rest of my life," she laughed, looking at his pouting face - he looked like a red balloon about to burst. "And there's nothing ya can do about that," rubbing the top of his red head and meeting no resistance, Rachel got serious. "Ya know, Mike. Believe me, I know what it's like to lose. Ya can fuss all you want right now, but it's not gonna make ya better," the boy, feeling more tears of bitterness coming on, bit his lip and turned away from his mother. "Nothing comes easy to anyone. And ya really will be a classic underdog, but only if ya let it go that easily," the girl sat down on her knees in front of her son right on the pavement, forcing the boy to look into her eyes - he gasped in amazement when Rachel pulled out of her pocket the medal he had recently thrown away. Sometimes Mike completely forgot that his mother was a magician. "This one," she shook the consolation prize quietly. "It doesn't say ya screwed up. It only says ya tried. Even though the attempt was a failure, even though the second one will be exactly the same, but ya mustn't give up. Ya know, baby, ya're very brave," she cupped his cheeks, making the boy cry harder, and nearly burst into tears herself. "Your ambition is quite something, but ya have to work very hard to achieve it. Look at me!" she laughed in a shaky voice and with tears in her eyes. "Do ya think I would have hit that target even once? Not a chance in hell!"

"Liar," he whimpered, burrowing into her shoulder. She stroked his shuddering back, happy that Mike had stopped pushing her away.

'I know I wasn't the best mother to ya, but,' she thought, squeezing her eyes shut and cradling the little body, red hair just like hers tickled her nostrils, and she didn't know if she was crying from the tickling or the thrill. "I never lied to ya."

"Mom!" he howled, clinging to her more tightly - seeing her as a protector and ally, he tried to hide in her, to block out his own complexes with her maturity and confidence, hoping that he would someday be like her. The boy didn't care about the people hanging around and having fun, he didn't care what they thought of him because his mother's embrace reminded him that he wasn't alone in the world.

"I know, baby," Rachel soothed the boy in a quiet voice. "Ya're gonna make it," she pulled away from him only to place the medal back on his chest. "Now this medal will be a sign that ya will never, ever give up. So wear it with pride."

Mike sniffled and nodded fervently, snot and tears almost flying to the sides. Sensing her son's embarrassment as her own, Rachel took him to the men's room, nearly breaking the nose of the man who whistled at her at the entrance. She waited obediently while her son washed his face with cold water and cleaned himself up, and took any indignant or perplexed look from anyone else as a challenge. Even though his mother could fend for herself, Mike's protective instincts kicked in, so he glared at anyone who got too close to Rachel.

Mike took his mother's hand and led her away from the place, straightening up and lifting his chin - he thought he looked bigger and more imposing that way. Rachel giggled stupidly all the way to the sidewalk cafeteria. When she met your gaze, she nodded cheerfully, letting you know everything was fine. "Hey, kids!" she yelled to Itadori and Yuta, who were standing at the caramelized fruit counter. "Are ya going on the coaster now?"

"Yes!"

"Take these little ones with you!" she, picking up a bouncing Tris from Frank's lap that refused to sit on her butt because of the hard chairs, nudged her and Mike toward the boys.

Yuji immediately grabbed the girl's hand, afraid of losing her in the crowd, while Yuta kept his eyes on the redhead. After buying juicy, glistening glazed strawberries, they happily chatted about something and headed to the line for the ride. "Jesus," Rachel sighed tiredly, plopping down on the chair next to you. Her strength had left her body, all the energy she had left for calming her own son.

"Look at those happy buns," you said dreamily, watching Tris get cranky and try to take the strawberry from Yuta. "When I was their age, I learned how to smoke and steal blings," you were immediately got a smack from Frank for your words.

"Oh, like ya are a righteous man," you muttered resentfully, rubbing the back of your head and glaring at the man who had opened another bottle of beer.

"I can afford it couple times a year," he replied nonchalantly, sipping the cool drink.

"Ya wouldn't have potbelly like that because of couple times a year," you said cheerfully, slapping him on the stomach. You dodged another smack and laughed wryly.

It didn't take long for the man to get angry as a worried Itadori appeared on the horizon with Tris in his arms. Frank jumped up - the chair had fallen to the ground with a loud thud, nearly breaking in half - and ran quickly to them. "What's the matter, sunshine?" he said anxiously, taking the little girl from the bewildered Yuji 

"As soon as we were at the entrance, Tris immediately cried," the boy rambled apologetically, afraid that suspicion of her sadness might fall on him.

"Scared, honey?" cooed Frank, rocking Tris - her cries turned to quiet sobs, and she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. You and Rachel glanced over and sighed jealously in unison - now that you were grown, almost all the tender creature comforts went to the younger ones. "I'm taking her home," Frank stated in a stern tone, giving you a serious look. "And ya," he pointed a finger at you and Rachel then tapped it on the table. "Keep an eye on everyone."

"Okay," you agreed, heeding his words while your sister rolled her eyes.

Itadori, feeling guilty for being at the center of all the trouble, looked penitently at Frank as he left, and as soon as he was gone, Rachel sprang from her seat, running up to the boy. "I'll go with ya!" she said cheerfully, putting her arm around Yuji's shoulder, and the boy stared at her in surprise.

"Where are ya going?" you shouted. "Frank said to keep an eye on everyone!"

"What do ya think I'm gonna do?" barked Rachel back. "Where am I supposed to keep an eye on them if not in close proximity?"

Either her insolence has shackled your vocal cords, or common sense. With a snort, you grabbed your milkshake angrily, and sipped sullenly as you watched Rachel lead Itadori farther and farther away, shoving the queue - they were in no time at all near Yuta and Mike, who were standing at the beginning of it, waiting for the coaster to arrive.

People looked hot, excited, and instead of their endless chatter, you could hear only their blood boiling in them - you were tempted even by a drop of sweat running down the back of a girl you didn't know. Your usually dormant and slumbering hunger liked to wake up in a crowd - your body became cotton-like, barely obedient, and you struggled to keep yourself on the chair. You sipped the milkshake hard, trying to satiate yourself, but the creature inside couldn't stand the deception.  

Breathing hard, you wished you were in a vat of ice-cold water - it wouldn't satisfy your hunger, but it might bring you back to your senses. The air, warmed by other people's laughter and breath, tantalized you, made you dizzy, and you had to grab the table to keep your balance. Before your eyes blurred, you saw the coaster pull up, the thrill-seekers stepping off the wagon on shaky legs, some laughing merrily, some feeling only a surge of energy.

Gojo laughed and wrapped his arms around the necks of a pale Megumi and a dazed Danielle, and as soon as you met his gaze, your heart calmed a little, though your human heart was still racing. The sorcerer smiled smugly at you, leading the barely alive kids to your table. "Here we are!" he chirped, plopping down next to you. 

You watched in horror as a forcibly recovered Danielle sat Fushiguro down - the boy pressed his lips tightly together like holding back a gagging. "Is this really how it's supposed to be?" you asked uncertainly.

"Oh, come on," he waved it off. "He just feels a little queasy, that happens."

Either Megumi had no energy left or he didn't hear Gojo at all, for there was no frown on his part. Danielle anxiously stroked his shoulders, squeezing them a little - Gojo put his hands behind his head and watched contentedly as Dany tried to put some color on Megumi's pale face. The sorcerer's extremely happy smile made you suspicious - you got the impression that the celebration on his face wasn't caused by the amusement ride at all. "Ya're so petty," you grinned, realizing that Gojo was just enjoying some peddling revenge for the boy's failure to make him aware of his serious intentions first.  

"So?" he fluttered his eyelids innocently and snatched the milkshake away from you.

Megumi, who had regained consciousness, took a sip of water from the glass, but immediately put his hand to his mouth, making a gurgling sound - a sight you were glad to see was an appetite suppressant. You were no longer burning up inside, your hunger had briefly receded, your stomach was no longer eating itself, and though you were still breathing heavily, you were no longer sweating.

Your lack of reaction made Gojo uneasy, and the fact that you didn't fight for your unceremoniously snatched food made him panic. It was only now that he noticed your foggy eyes and the way your head barely was holding steady, and without realizing it, the sorcerer was breathing heavily along with you. It reminded him just now why you'd been denying yourself the pleasure of even short bursts of adrenaline. There were too many people here - it was like leaving a person who'd been starving for months in the midst of a feast under an all-seeing eye that commanded them not to touch anything. "Let's go get some strawberries," without giving you time to answer, Gojo grabbed your arm and dragged you towards the counter, leaving Dany and Megumi alone.  

There was almost no queue, only two people before you. You gazed with interest and appetite at the fruit in the display case, which glistened in the warm light of the lantern - the glaze seemed like liquid gold. "Mochi," Gojo said quietly, and you looked at him questioningly, hardly able to tear yourself away from the delicious splendor. The gleeful slyness on his face didn't last long - the more he worked up the courage to say those words, the more embarrassed he became. "You want to get out of here?" 

"What?" you blurted out confusedly, but it was the sparkle in your eyes that gave you away - the thought of escaping made them twinkle like a million stars. "But I... Frank said to keep an eye on everyone, so I don't think I can," you rambled shyly, not knowing where to put yourself. Temptation was on one side of the scale, responsibility on the other, and the scales swayed immeasurably, tipping sideways.

Frightened that he had only exacerbated your precarious state with his suggestion, he put on a serene smile and tried to reassure you. "Dany has Megumi, and everyone else has Rachel. Your sister is crazy," you snorted sarcastically at that remark. "And having her son here makes her triple the danger."

You glanced toward the entrance to the coaster - it was nothing but an excited, waiting crowd. People were hooting and hollering, jostling and trying to get ahead of the line, but there were no Rachel or Gojo's students among them - they were probably yelling at the top of their lungs right now. You'd never doubted your sister, and now you grinned stupidly and thought about the fact that Rachel was probably calming or coaxing the excited and frightened boys. Whether she was rocking their safety bindings or reassuring them that everything would be okay while laughing at their contorted faces, you knew she would protect them no matter what happened. Right now, they'd be safer without you than with you.    

Strawberries you took from Gojo spilled bitterness into your mouth as soon as you took a bite. You shouldn't have been so protective of your words and kept the warm embrace to yourself. Deciding that tonight and for the rest of your life, you would let Rachel lie on top of you, hugging and nibbling you as much as she wanted, you ventured.

Turning to Gojo, you took his hand and nodded. As soon as he took you to a place out of sight, the sound of people's merriment was cut off by a wafting breeze. As you found yourself lying on the grass, the smell of water hit your nose - rising up on your elbows, you saw the familiar horizon where the ocean kissed the star every night. "Well," you began slyly. "Will the star give its answer tonight?" 

"I'm afraid not," the sorcerer sighed lamentably, plopping down on the grass beside you - the waves were almost reaching your feet, splashing desperately. "It's too dark already."

You tried to put the puzzle together in your head, but you couldn't find any reason why the star could only speak in its own light. You didn't even try to ask Gojo about it, just glanced at him frustrated that he still hadn't told you where the place was. 

The sorcerer heard you mutter something sullenly to yourself - he enjoyed the fact that he could influence your mood. And your condition. Here, in the forested wilderness by the dark waters, you were noticeably lighter, and instead of your ragged, hungry breathing, he could only hear the sound of small waves. "My offer still stands," he reminded you embarrassedly, turning on his side and propping his head on his palm.

"Eh?..." you wondered, wrinkling your nose in confusion.

"I mean blood," Gojo said, peering into your eyes - they no longer screamed of unquenchable thirst. "Reverse technique will make up for the lack of blood, so you can drink as much as you want. When else are you gonna be offered an unlimited and free feeding tube?" 

"Do ya even know about a word like diet?" you laughed, taken aback by his suggestion. "If I don't stick to it, I might become greedy."

He'd truly forgotten that sweets didn't go along with blood - any addiction had consequences. No matter how many sweets the sorcerer ate, he still couldn't get enough, and if his whole dilemma was just going to the store, what about you?

Perhaps it was because Gojo had never seen you in a distraught state - the danger hadn't shown itself yet, and he was relaxed, thinking of you as a human despite some of the strange things that happened to you in crowds. The other side that existed was either too humble or repressed by you, but looking at you, he couldn't wonder if it was it that made you look up at the night sky like that. Your eyes, full of longing and tenderness - he didn't need to turn around to realize what you were looking at so lovingly. It was more likely that the tiny shimmering dots peeking out from behind the leaves were staring back at you just the same.   

Gojo suddenly felt empty - the unattainable, clutching his heart in a vise, asked him a leading question. Will he ever be enough for your adventurous soul? Or would you travel to unknown but native lands at the first opportunity? He was lying right in front of you, very close, but even now you were looking up high, searching for something. No matter how powerful the sorcerer was, he could not put himself on a par with the face of the universe. The feeling of being deprived was left on his conscience - he wanted to feel the same way you felt at the sight of those tiny, shiny dots. "If you had the chance," he blurted out, embarrassed, lowering his gaze to the ground, but there was nowhere to retreat. "Would you go there?" 

The sorcerer almost drowned in bitterness when you sighed dreamily. "No," you said plaintively, giving him your hand. He stared at you in surprise, but couldn't even open his mouth - joy intermingled with confusion stole all the words. "If I'd wanted to, I would have taken off my mask long ago and surrendered to the judges," you shuddered, even though you were the one who remembered them.

Gojo rolled over onto his stomach and felt the annoyance recede. "You look over there more often than you look at me anyway," he muttered resentfully, pinching the grass. Seeking reassurance from you, he started acting like a child again.  

"Now I'm just thinking about how many of those stars are already dead," you chuckled. The sorcerer squinted at you suspiciously, and you felt yourself under mute interrogation. "I'm telling the truth," you sighed, waving away the grass flying at you. "I'm just wondering which ones are real, and which ones disappeared, leaving behind a light that only reached us now," you rounded your eyes at the idea that had come to you, and clapped him enthusiastically on the shoulder. "Look, how about a bet?" 

"Bet?" he blustered, perking up. He was clearly interested in the scheme or rather in his reward for your imminent loss.

You were looking for something in the night sky. "Well, there's our sister, Betelgeuse," you turned your head from side to side, and not finding the constellation Orion, you waved it away, but decided to stick to your suggestion and not back down. "Right now it's in its last stage of life for us, but what if I bet it exploded... I dunno," you laughed at the absurdity of your suggestion. "Let's say about five years ago?"

"Too shallow," Gojo declared proudly. "I'll bet ten."

"That's the deal." 

"Uh.,, What did we bet?" he mused, trying to recall the terms of the deal.

"It's up to the winner to decide," the magnitude of the controversy allowed you to say this phrase. "If I'm right, we won't see the explosion until 495 years from now, and if you're right, we won't see it until 490 years. Oh yeah, there is some margin of error because the exact distance to Betelgeuse is unknown. Give or take 100 years."

"I think I just miscalculated," the sorcerer drawled uncertainly. "But where?"

Maybe it was a good thing the explosion wouldn't come soon enough - Gojo wouldn't have had ten years to make up his mind about his desire, every branch of which was invariably connected to you. You were naive to think you could get rid of him by time, for Gojo would be ready to get you in a thousand years. 

As you looked up into the silent sky, you heard again the last words the sorcerer had said to you once. You'd lived in his world, but he'd never known or felt a part of yours - an unfair and unjust selfishness that had strayed from your thoughts. Of course, you could never show Gojo the places by the stars themselves - those beautiful killers would leave you no chance of survival. But you could take him to places where the light from events would close in on you, making you see things you would never see here, lying on the grass. "I wanna show ya something," your voice cracked with excitement, and you jumped to your feet, thereby startling him as well. Panicked, Gojo rose to his feet with you, looking you cautiously.

"Show me what?" he hesitantly asked, keeping his distance - there were only two steps separating you.

"Look, I really don't know how to put this into words," you said out of breath like a long jog. "You'd better give me your hand," you held out your palm and held yourself back - his uncertainty was urging you to run to him, to grab his hand and do as you wished, but something inside demanded that you wait for his willing consent. "We'll only have about ten seconds, but I promise there's nothing to worry about," you kept rambling, trying to reassure the sorcerer, but you only made him more anxious. 

Gojo didn't know why he hesitated - he didn't remember you as excited and aroused as you were. Besides, he thought he was the only one who'd ever seen you like this, and that was what made him stiffen - the weight of your trust made him stop feeling his own body. You were about to show him something you hadn't shown the others, and despite his happiness, Gojo felt responsible.

As soon as Gojo dared to raise his hand, you grabbed him - he couldn't even understand how you could pull him, tall and big, towards you and change your places. It took his breath away, his legs and arms were numb, he felt like a feather that floated without falling - realizing that he couldn't take a breath, Gojo noticed your glittering eyes that blended with the rest of the wild and distant stars. 

One.

Gojo didn't immediately realize where he was - what he saw seemed so implausible and ridiculous that it drove him mad. Delirium retreated penitently as he looked behind your shoulder, barely breaking away from your gaze. There were no planets or other celestial bodies around you - you were, like two swimmers, dissecting with your bodies the universe in its original form. Finding himself at the beginning of all humans, he thought of yours as well - here his throat clenched just as it had clenched from the dagger once held to his neck. 

Two.

Enraged by his own consternation, Gojo placed the blame for his initial feelings on your shoulders. Foes may have mocked him, others may have underestimated him, looking down on the sorcerer, but they all met the same end, but he had never witnessed such cold eyes that he had seen on your first day - you could have killed him without hesitation, and it was left on Gojo's conscience to think of you as someone superior to him.

Three.

An upstart, a psychopath, a murderer, a thief, a subhuman - Gojo kept repeating those words like a mantra, and as he agreed to the deal with your superiors, he thought of the balance - the world wouldn't be worse off if his best friend showed up here instead of you. All his life destroying the vermin, Gojo mistook you for one of them, and pathetic excuses could not cover the regrets that followed - in fact, you turned out to be an amazing creature embodied by invisible hands that supported you right here and now, preventing you from drowning in the dark slurry, in which flickering, distant lights had long ago boiled. 

Four.

Not the desire to kill, but to protect yourself - that's what made you tick. Gojo had read it in your tired, red eyes back then, on the cliff outside the house. 'How strange,' he thought, squeezing your hand harder - if all around you were your home lands, the sorcerer still couldn't feel it under his feet, and he was afraid not to get lost in space, but to let you go. 'Even here it's not as cold as it was then,' there was no warmth in your hand or in your voice, just a mess of vacuum and thoughts, but he saw you brightly and clearly, and he couldn't find the words to thank the light that reflected off you.

Five.

Tears blurred all the stars making them flash – they became bright, almost red, which reminded Gojo of torches. You were the one who had unceremoniously interfered in his life and pointed out the consequences of his deeds. Every clueless person saved could continue to burn fires, illuminating the hearts of those they loved and their own. The sprawling expanses were not known for their friendliness, they loved only lifeless symmetry - having overlooked one tiny corner, they failed to notice the ugliness that stood out against the background of an endless similar pattern, thus giving this filth a chance to exist. And Gojo, never thinking about it, continued to draw this abomination called humanity on the beautiful and empty picture of the world with his own hands. 

Six.

Was the void like this place? Was saving people just one of the reasons why you returned to that cold land again and again? Or was it the purple-lit sand that reminded you of a home that had no bottom, no walls, no roof? It was in such a place that all the secrets of origin and birth, which were usually hidden under the dark cloak of matter of the known world, were exposed. They squirmed and pushed each other out, thus inadvertently showing their particles to the person who painted the formulas.

Seven.

You were probably being guided by goodness when you lied to the sorcerer - now he didn't believe a bit of what you said about not wanting to go there. In all his life Gojo had never seen so much confused delight in someone's gaze, he had never met someone whose eyes so easily merged with the stars, reflecting them. It was so strange, holding your hand, realizing that at any moment you could let it go and merge with the darkness, no longer allowing the light to reflect off of you - at this moment his grip seemed so fragile and unreliable that he was afraid.

Eight.

You looked at Gojo with a thrill at your heart. The awe on his face, unwilling to tell you its origins, made you anxious. Certainly, you had not walked the rings of Jupiter or viewed Venus from the distance of two moons, and all you could show him was the crushing insensitivity and colorlessness of nothingness. His thoughts eluded you, and you couldn't demand reassurance - finding yourself at the very pier where invisible ships were sailing to your lands, you hoped it resonated genuinely in his soul as it did in yours.

Nine.

How much foolishness and naivety can awaken in later years - Gojo would have laughed if he could. Going with heavy thinking, he missed the very point - being so close to home, you weren't looking around, searching the stars for a native being, you were looking straight at him. It wasn't the cosmos that fascinated the sorcerer, but Gojo was completely lost when he met the creature it spawned. To follow you through life, to go with you after death, resuming your endless circle of a beginning and never letting go of your hand even in the coldest of places.

Ten.

You were entwined where there was no life and no end to it. No earth, no water, no fire, no air - no threads that connected Gojo to a familiar world. He knew that sooner or later the universe would kill him, if not by lack of oxygen, then by cold - the world had a thousand and one weapons to get rid of unwanted guests. The universe was well aware that it was the worst place for the origin of life, but no matter how hard it tried to crush human existence, it could not prevent your meeting. From the very beginning of life on Earth, there were too many accidents for mere coincidence - it was necessarily either a gift of destiny or an evil fate, and one never excluded the other. Seeing through the prism of human's eyes, savoring all your colors, Gojo dropped for the last second all the responsibilities that awaited him upon his return - for one more moment the sorcerer relished the newfound home he never had.  

Two astronauts, unburdened by reinforced spacesuits, floated in weightlessness, content with the good spirits of their surroundings, which unobtrusively tried to kill them. Once smaller than a dot, the creation, having emitted light in all directions, had grown to the size that its underling could reach in 14 billion years, and it continued to grow relentlessly, illuminating its once invisible boundaries. Billions of stars, which became millions of eyes, forced the Universe to witness a miracle over which it had no control - in the vastness of its endless dead zone two loving hearts were beating. 

Gojo had been gulping for air as soon as he was on Earth, the abrupt change in his surroundings making his mind melt. The sound of water, the overflow of waves and even a green leaf falling from a branch seemed to him no more than decoration. His back didn't feel the ground, his hands didn't feel the wind - he was brought back to reality by you, real and alive, who hovered over him and gazed at him restlessly. "I won't pay for such an excursion," said the sorcerer, out of breath. Laughing quietly, you slid off Gojo and plopped down next to him. Trying to shake off the anxiety and the sticky thoughts that Gojo was disgusted by this walk, you listened, seeking reassurance in his every agitated breath. 

Gojo was afraid to admit that it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Or rather, this moment was right after your first meeting on his personal list. A lifetime of striving for more, of cutting and dissecting the boundaries of human possibility, he was still here on Earth. The greater the power, the more majesty the sorcerer felt, but where light years walked, the omnipotence appeared to be nothing more than ordinary dust that the stellar winds had scattered. "You know, it's...," he mewled shyly, trying to find a word that at least slightly described his heartstrings. As Gojo frantically went over the unspoken emotion on his tongue, he was interrupted by a rumbling sound. Clutching at your stomach like trying to shut it up, you rounded your eyes in shock, and your heart felt heavy. To ruin a moment like this, even unwillingly, seemed like the end of the world until you heard a gushing laugh. "I'm a lousy friend if I keep forgetting to feed you," you wanted to object, reminding the sorcerer about the strawberries, but he stood up and picked you up in his arms, each time you sighed in amazement as you looked down at the world from his height. "Well, what does our soul desire?"  

"Bacon-wrapped shrimp," you replied without hesitation like you'd been practicing that line for years. "Exactly the kind ya make."

"You could have chained me to the stove for all evening, wanting, let's say, ramen or curry rice, but do you really want just shrimps?" he wondered, and you nodded emphatically. "I don't deserve you," Gojo grinned, remembering not the recipe he needed at all, but the world you'd shown him. 

The moment you were on the doorstep of the house on the hill, you felt a little dizzy, either from the fact that the sorcerer had never warned you before moving abruptly or from worrying about the consequences of your escape. Your gut didn't let you down - as soon as you opened the door and crossed the threshold, you were greeted by a disheveled and flushed Frank, who was looking for something in the medicine cabinet. A surprised Mike was sitting on the couch, and your sister was kneeling in front of him, gently blotting his temple. Several bloody cotton balls were already lying on the floor beside her, and you crouched down next to Rachel, concerned, while Gojo tried to quiet your old man. "What happened?" 

"He fell out of a tree," Rach mumbled, soaking another cotton ball in alcohol. There was no attack from her about your disappearance, and surprisingly, you felt out of sorts. "Does it hurt, baby?" she asked her son affectionately, and he shook his head cheerfully. "I guess I was even more scared than he was," she sighed in relief. "Will ya come back for the others?" she turned to you. "I couldn't even warn the kids when I saw the blood on his face that we had to leave."

"Yeah, sure," you assured her absently, stroking your sister's shoulder. It looked like it would take you a long time to get used to the changes in her personality. Her yelling, shouting and accusations were much better tolerated than her uncharacteristic emotions, and you were unaware of the confusion and fright on her face. "We'll be back soon, don't worry, 'kay?" you said, standing up and patting Mike lightly on the top of his head - he didn't even squeak.

"Okay," she replied, and you, not noticing the cold stare she was giving you, tugged Gojo's sleeve, nodding your way out.

[August 23, 2022, 01:50pm., Hopetown]

The greenhouse offered no protection from the sudden late August heat, and you ran your wet palms through the vegetation, searching for stems. The wicker basket on the floor was slowly filling with soft pink flowers, and you looked at each sunlighted petal before you put one in. The monotonous work and humidity made you drowsy, and you struggled to keep your eyes open, yawning all the while. "Hey," Gojo called out angrily as he entered the greenhouse. He appeared before you covered in earth and dirt with a shovel in hand. "Am I to understand t correctly hat I was forced to dig potatoes and you're out here picking flowers?" snorted the sorcerer. "Where is justice?" he asked indignantly, stepping closer and nearly hitting the basket with his foot. Standing up beside you and resting his chin on the shovel's handle, he examined the flowers in the basket. "What's this ugly thing?" Gojo wrinkled his nose squeamishly, looking at the incongruity - the peony was on top of a lily, the lily on top of a rose, the rose on top of a chrysanthemum, and there was not a single repeating flower, which was repulsive in its chaos.  

Sometimes, Gojo rarely let you get a word in edgewise - either torrents of information or piles of questions usually rained down on you. "It's for Shaya. It's her anniversary tomorrow, and Frank asked me to help," you took advantage of the silence and answered patiently, still nonchalantly picking and clipping the stems of the flowers that weren't already in the basket.

"Then it's even weirder," Gojo grumbled. "If I were him, I'd bring a prettier bouquet to your grave," your outrage was beyond words, but the sorcerer realized what he'd said when you looked at him dumbfounded. "Why can't you shut me up in time?" he got angry, unintentionally putting the blame on you.

"That's because ya have a big mouth. Watch your tongue," the way the shears clanged together suggested to the sorcerer that you'd imagined the plant to be something else. "Shaya didn't care about flowers at all. She loved them all," you muttered quietly, changing the subject. "As long as they were white," you gently swiped at the petals and placed the jonquil in the basket. Your words confused Gojo - either you were overheating or you were playing him for a fool. 

"They're pink," the sorcerer said hesitantly, blinking hard a few times - perhaps he'd gotten sunstroke? But you didn't raise an eyebrow at his remark, just kept looking for the prettiest flowers, but your quiet chuckle didn't escape his hearing. "I can't believe it!" he gasp insulted, knocking the shovel to the floor. "You were testing me!"

"Call it professional hazard," you laughed, trying to soften his anger.

The prepared tirade remained unspoken - someone's large hand tugged Gojo by the collar, almost throwing him out of the greenhouse. "What, son, are ya done already?" asked Frank coldly, squinting suspiciously. The sorcerer, shaking his head fearfully and clutching the shovel to his chest, backed away - the gray-haired man stepped exactly until he had swept him out of the room. "That's better!" he yelled. "I don't need a lazy son-in-law!" he muttered, waving his fist threateningly in his wake. 

"Frank," you hissed embarrassedly, drawing attention.

"What?" he bellowed, proudly adjusting his shirt and walking over to you - inspecting the basket of flowers, he hummed in satisfaction. "Am I not telling the truth?"

"Better tell me how the orchid thing is going," you waved it away.

"Already started making the extract, that's gonna take quite a while too," he nodded meaningfully. "And what do we do with it next?"

"We're gonna do experiments on me," he frowned sternly, realizing what you were getting at. "We need to find out what ratios of wine and extract cause pain in demons."

"I don't like this scheme," the man muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are ya up to?"

At this rate, you really weren't going to make it in time for town day, which is exactly what insurance was for. "There's a reason I asked Megumi and Dany to have the wedding here in Hopetown," you exhaled convulsively. "Call me paranoid, but I think there's someone here. Someone reporting on... us," you replied evasively, not naming specific names. "It's unlikely they used Danielle alone, they could easily have slipped us one of them in the void, passing them off as just another poor soul," Frank glanced warily through the transparent wall of the greenhouse at the town - it was as quiet and peaceful as it had been a day ago, or a month, or even a year. "I may end up being wrong, but wouldn't it be calmer that way?" you gibbered, panting, trying to convince the man. "We'll organize a feast, everyone will drink from wine barrels, and if no one reacts - that's great, but if one critter does choke, then...," you laughed nervously, wiping your wet face with your hands. "Oh my God… Looks like I'm gonna ruin the wedding."

next ⊳

[badaseyebags]

ᰔ⊹₊˚ 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗎 ˚₊⊹ᰔ

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ 𝖻𝖺𝖽𝖺 .ᐟ

⤷ jealousy is a disease ⊹ ࣪ ˖ fluff, suggestive

private lessons ⊹ ࣪ ˖ fluff, suggestive

⤷ chapter 1 ᥫ᭡ chapter 2 ᥫ᭡ chapter 3 ࣪ ˖

⤷ chapter 4 ᥫ᭡

⤷ ice americano ⊹ ࣪ ˖ fluff

⤷ betelgeuse ⊹ ࣪ ˖ angst?

⤷ birthday cake ⊹ ࣪ ˖ suggestive

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ 𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗋 .ᐟ

⤷ ice cream ⊹ ࣪ ˖ fluff

⤷ flowers ⊹ ࣪ ˖ fluff

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗁 .ᐟ

⤷ what is love ⊹ ࣪ ˖ angst

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ 𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 .ᐟ

to all the boys that tried to love me ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

⤷ intro ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ch 1 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ch 2 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ch 3 ˚｡⋆ ch4

[juni-aldaine123]

AD ASTRA/ snf ; himfri

✎ title is a latin phrase which literally translates to: to the stars

・❥・not beta read we die like himmel . oneshot . fluff . light- very very light angst . stargazing . maybe a bit ooc frieren? . no spoilers . soft himmel and frieren . whipped himmel (when is he not?) . basically a word vomit to compensate for my absence here for quite a while

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

Frieren finds herself sitting under the richness of the night and the heaviness of Himmel's arm wrapped around her shoulders as he excitedly chatters away about stars and constellations and astrology and all the deep talk of cosmic wonders Frieren has limited knowledge of.

But she still makes a show of listening; she doesn't want her disinterest to dampen Himmel's smile that's always adorned with childlike delight at the littlest of things. When she wears out whatever false curiosity she'd mustered she turns her gaze at Himmel instead, and watches how his big grin shrinks into the ghost of a smile.

He whispers to her, voice sombre, "It is said that loved ones we've lost watch over us-" His breath caresses the shell of her ear like a humid breeze. "-like the stars that decorate the heavens."

He points at the dark expanse hanging over the landscape of a small village they witness, while sitting at the edge of a forest at a higher point. "Their souls turn into those stars and light up our path to lead us to our destination- wherever it rests waiting."

"You were telling me the names of some commonly known stars and now you say they're a manifestation of spirits of your ancestors?" And truly, before- when they'd just sat down on the grass comfortably, the bonfire set behind them by Heiter and Eisen heating their backs- Himmel had meticulously charted the stars for Frieren by just using his words.

"That's Sirius, the brightest star known to man as of now. Betelgeuse and Procyon-" He'd taken her hand, along with her attention, and guided it to point at the direction he was looking. "-form a triangle with Sirius, called the Winter Triangle."

Then he made her trace a shape in air. "And that's the constellation, Orion."

"That," Himmel chuckles- the sound jolts her back to present- and emphasises his point. "Is the difference between science and philosophy." Frieren unwittingly pulls her lips into a pout at her lack of understanding. Or maybe it's just Himmel talking in riddles like he often does with her.

"It's just a saying, Frieren. Surely you what that means? I've told you before," His voice calms her, his patience never wavering.

"You have, but it's a foreign concept for elves such as me- sarcasm, expressions, idioms, and what not. It may take some time for me to catch on."

"And you've plenty of that," he retorts back, not unkindly. Then- silence ensues.

That Frieren breaks by voicing a question that itched her for a while to ask. "What star do you think you will be?"

"I believe you can give a better judgement regarding that. What do you think?"

"You'll be the brightest star for me." And unbeknownst to her, Himmel's heart also beats the brightest of all hearts that instant at her admission.

"Or maybe the guiding star. The one sailors seek to navigate their way at sea." Frieren may lack enthusiasm but she never forgets her lessons. Despite listening only half heartedly Himmel's words reached her mind with his gentleness.

"I can be both, if you want."

"You will. You're your own star." Himmel feels his cheeks redden at Frieren's heedless but sincere confession, and reins his traitorous heart into compliance before it influences his mouth to spill desirous secrets about the silver haired elf he guards cautiously.

'My star,' Frieren thinks proudly in the chambers of her own mind.

She unceremoniously plops down on his lap like she has done on countless nights, each time leaving Himmel flustered who- despite such frequent intimacies- can never get used to it, especially if it's Frieren initiating the touch. Frieren doesn't mind him, like always, and continues by speaking her thoughts.

"But how will I know which one is you? How will I find you amongst this infinity?" Seeing her viridian eyes zone upwards, at the sky, remind Himmel of a pond basking under the celestial brilliance of twilight- the green of undisturbed waters reflecting the bewitching beauty it sees above itself. Himmel, as he looks down at her- her face- loses himself in the changing shades of her eyes as light angles around the corners.

"You'll just know. When the time comes."

"I don't want it to ever come then, because that'll mean you're gone."

"Death is inevitable for humans, Frieren," he declares with easy acceptance.

"I know that better than anyone else." Frieren huffs, then shifts in his lap- head now on his thigh- and stares straight ahead at the village that is now slowly settling into the night after a day's hustle and bustle. "Doesn't mean I like it."

"Worry not. It won't be anytime soon," He assures her.

"I shall not allow it, anyway," she affirms.

Frieren doesn't move from the comfort of Himmel's warmth till there's a call for dinner from Heiter.

[roleplay-finder-search]

Hello all! I have been out of writing for a bit, and I am itching to get back into it. I write female ocs for various fandoms, but I can also work with fandomless depending on the plot/character presented to me.

A bit about me: I’m 31F. I have well over 16 years of roleplaying experience. I tend to write novella, literate, on Discord. I do have a full-time job and a busy life, so don’t expect a reply every day. I’ll always let you know if I may take longer than usual for some reason. I am available to chat ooc every day though! I love sharing music, visuals, headcanons, etc that relate to our characters/plot.

What I’m looking for in a partner: 21+, any gender. Please have multi-para/novella, literate writing style. It would also be great if you got excited about our characters/plot too!

Fandoms and characters I’m currently (desperately) looking for:

.Sonic - Dr. Ivo Robotnik (Jim Carrey version from the movies)

.JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure - Hol Horse

.Hazbin Hotel - Adam or Alastor

.Barry (HBO show) - Barry Berkman

.Beetlejuice - Betelgeuse

I have my character info ready for all of these, and starters for some of them.

Some fandomless ideas I can work with: supernatural elements (vampires, werewolves, etc), serial killers, dated (princess/knight type stuff). Plenty more, but that’s all I’ve got off the top of my head right now.

Plots will include smut/nsfw, dark themes, romance, angst, and plenty more.

Interact and I’ll message you! 💙

🍂

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Recently Uploaded - Fanfic Friday - 11/15/24

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Beetlejuice The Musical Masterlist

[greyghoulclub]

Harringrove Flip it Reverse it prompt 1 - fluff becomes angst: stargazing

Billy antis DNI

For @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

edit: <a href = "Look up to the stars - greyghoulclub - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]"> ao3 link here! </a>

When Steve was little, his mom taught him about all the constellations in the night sky. The big dipper, Orion and his belt, Ursa major and minor. They would go out in the middle of the night to sit on the lawn and use a telescope to see them. His mom would point in the general direction of a constellation and Steve would find it with the telescope.

“Mom! Look!” little Steve beckoned her over to the telescope, the biggest grin on his face. His mom would chuckle, push her long brown hair over her shoulder, and bend down to look through the telescope.

“You can see the big star in Orion’s belt right? Beetle- uh- juice?” Steve was talking a mile a minute because the star in question was brighter than usual. His mom chuckled from her position at the telescope, a beauty mark on the corner of her mouth moving into the crease of her cheek.

“Yes, I see Betelgeuse sweetheart, and there’s Rigel right next to it.” When Steve looked confused, she told him to look at the constellation again. “You see the blue star next to Betelgeuse? That’s Rigel.”

“It’s really blue,” Steve was fascinated by the little blue star, as they usually didn’t see it this bright. His mom only smiled and wrapped them in the blanket she’d brought outside.

When Steve got older and girls turned out not to be so yucky, Steve would take them out on stargazing dates to be romantic. The girls had loved it, something about how romantic it was to be kissed under the stars. And how they thought that King Steve couldn’t be as romantic as he was. Steve would chuckle and say something along the lines of ‘well, I like to make it special for a pretty girl’. Then Nancy came along and it didn’t work with her. For once in his life, King Steve had to work for something.

“Do you take all the girls on these stargazing dates?” she had ribbed at him, not in a bad way, but she was right. Nancy wasn’t going to be as easily wooed, but Steve liked a challenge. So he tried to do things that aligned with her interests, like library dates, the librarian raised an eyebrow at seeing him there. Nancy had liked going to the Hawk for a midnight showing of a new mystery movie, and trying to figure out what was going on before the characters did.

Then the upside-down stuff started happening, and Steve didn’t believe it at first, yeah right his pool had a portal to a different version of Hawkins right in the middle of it, and there were monsters that took creepy Byers’s little brother. Steve still didn’t believe it until he had seen the monster with too many teeth had to beat its face, if you could even call it a face, in with a baseball bat. Steve still saw the thing in his nightmares.

What he didn’t count on was Billy Hargrove. The Californian transplant who had crashed into his life with Motley Crue blaring and a bad attitude. He seemed to be King Steve cranked up to eleven. Billy Hargrove, who had stolen two titles right from under his nose. Billy Hargrove, who had beaten the shit out of him at the Byers' house in November and smashed a plate over his head. But also Billy Hargrive who had come to his house in the middle of January with a split lip and bruised ribs. Billy Hargrove who had silently cried into his shoulder when Steve realised it was his dad who was hitting him and that night at the Byers’ finally made sense.

They had kept their relationship a secret, out of necessity, only ever being intimate when no one else was around. Steve treasured those small moments when Billy had finally let his guard down. The real Billy was someone who had the oceans in his eyes, someone who had a soft spot for the stray cats around Hawkins, someone who was completely at ease in the water. Steve could’ve sworn that he was a mermaid in a past life.

Then Billy got possessed by the Mindflayer.

It was so goddamn painful knowing that he could’ve done so much more to help Billy but he was scared. Scared of the world knowing but Billy had also sworn them to secrecy. He knew that Billy was possessed and he did nothing. He worked the shitty ice cream parlour job at Starcourt acting like he didn’t know what was going on with Billy.

When Billy sacrificed himself to save everyone from the monster, after El had gotten through to him, Steve felt like his heart was ripping in two. There was no way Billy was surviving that. Billy died not knowing that Steve was there in that mall too, that Steve wanted to help him too. How scared must he have been? Not knowing what the hell was going on but his body was doing something that he never asked it to. Steve saw Max sobbing over Billy’s limp body and he was angry with everyone for a second, El had the psychic powers that could’ve saved them all and Billy wouldn’t have needed to sacrifice himself. Why didn’t the kids help Billy like they’d helped Will? Why didn’t he do anything?

Steve watched on as Billy’s body was taken away by guys in white suits for testing. He knew there wouldn’t be a body in Billy’s casket. Steve felt as if he got a limb ripped off. His life wasn’t going to be the same now that Billy wasn’t in it. He didn’t think it was ever going to be the same.

After Billy’s closed-casket funeral, Steve got out his old telescope and found Orion in the night sky. Standing proud and tall with his bow. Focusing on that blue star in the belt. Steve hoped that Billy could see the same from wherever he was now.

[xxx-theartofsuicide-xxx]

If Astrid is our Lydia-proxy, then Rory represents everything Lydia ever hated about Delia. He is every divorced parent's disappointing rebound fling. Yes, on the surface he exists to highlight Betelgeuse's undying devotion to Lydia, but his humiliating end can also be a seen as a sort of rape-and-revenge fantasy for the Evil Step-Parent archetype.

Rory's association with Delia is further supported by the character's source inspiration: Otho.

We know Lydia and Delia smoothed out their beef as adults, but when she was fresh to the family, things were tense. Lydia was an angry sullen brat in the first Beetlejuice, partially because she was being forced to live with this neurotic loud mouth Bitch. We love you, Delia, but you had your moments. It didn't help their relationship that Charles was forcing the "Mom" label where it really didn't need to be forced.

Astrid's show of angst at her mother's cringe-inducing engagement is Lydia's rage at her father marrying Delia. It leads Astrid directly to Jeremy's treehouse, just as Lydia's disgust with her father and Delia's incompetence drove her to the attic, and a potential suicide that Betelgeuse thankfully curtailed. Before the Maitlands interrupted, Lydia was sucking in her lips. She was going to say his name a third time.

Returning to; Astrid fell for the trap that Lydia didn't.

But if Lydia had fallen for the trap, Betelgeuse would have taken her to the other side and...(insert the cartoon here)

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Theory

Lydia is an unreliable narrator. Winona Ryder's personal headcanon that Lydia is a spinster by choice waiting in that attic is true. The film begins with her in the window in the house on the hill before blipping her over to New York suspiciously, and ends with her presumably in that same room. Astrid and Rory and Richard aren't real. The events of the film are all Betelgeuse indulging his wife's desire for a child, something he can't give her.

But he's sick and has to make his jokes, so he makes sure to remind her at the end with grandbabyjuice that her desire for a normal life is misguided and ridiculous, and she's stuck with him. Till death do we part, babes.

Cliche? Absolutely. Is that BJ's brand? Absolutely. The more I think about it, the more this is the most valid interpretation of the plot.

[prpfz]

Hello all! I have been out of writing for a bit, and I am itching to get back into it. I write female ocs for various fandoms, but I can also work with fandomless depending on the plot/character presented to me.

A bit about me: I’m 31F. I have well over 16 years of roleplaying experience. I tend to write novella, literate, on Discord. I do have a full-time job and a busy life, so don’t expect a reply every day. I’ll always let you know if I may take longer than usual for some reason. I am available to chat ooc every day though! I love sharing music, visuals, headcanons, etc that relate to our characters/plot.

What I’m looking for in a partner: 21+, any gender. Please have multi-para/novella, literate writing style. It would also be great if you got excited about our characters/plot too!

Fandoms and characters I’m currently (desperately) looking for:

.Sonic - Dr. Ivo Robotnik (Jim Carrey version from the movies)

.JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure - Hol Horse

.Hazbin Hotel - Adam or Alastor

.Barry (HBO show) - Barry Berkman

.Beetlejuice - Betelgeuse

I have my character info ready for all of these, and starters for some of them.

Some fandomless ideas I can work with: supernatural elements (vampires, werewolves, etc), serial killers, dated (princess/knight type stuff). Plenty more, but that’s all I’ve got off the top of my head right now.

Plots will include smut/nsfw, dark themes, romance, angst, and plenty more.

Interact and I’ll message you! 💙

give a like and anon will get back to you

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

裂隙

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/jhL2pRF by Betelgeuse (ProcyonSP) Dean久违地见到了他已经决裂的挚友，并且十分不巧地发现他们曾经是灵魂与荣光交织的灵魂伴侣。而这已经成为过去式的关系也如同他们的友情一样，早已在那一次的争吵中崩碎殆尽。 Dean并不知道他们的关系还能不能修复，或者是，他想不想。 一个关于已经破裂的事物的故事。 非典型灵魂伴侣AU 总是觉得1503很不爽所以写了。 本文包含：精神女铜、无意义的过多纠结、无意义的相互误解、无意义的谜语人、因作者个人喜好故意添加的无意义吵架、丁温彻（被女大学生夺舍版）、卡西条（被女高中生夺舍版）。谨防食物中毒。 Words: 68880, Chapters: 8/?, Language: 中文-普通话 國語 Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Rowena MacLeod, Michael (Supernatural), Adam Milligan Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Post-Canon, 1503 fix-it, Angst with a Happy Ending read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/jhL2pRF