#did he think i can redeem myself in one tiny way this time around

[breadandlottery]

Gi-hun and the futility of human will

[mxtxfanatic]

... Warning, rant in coming. Sorry.

Hot take, the only morally gray character in mess, that fits the exact definition of it, is Nie Huaisang.

I've seen more and more people trying to tone down Jiang Cheng's terribleness by saying that he's morally gray. I'very also seen those same people say that Wei Wuxian is morally gray because he did terrible things for good (and, no, lmao, he didn't. Most of those come from people not understanding how his cultivation works.) and that that was why he is so interesting. (Again, lmao. Lol even. Just say you don't appreciate depths and confuse "kind" with "boring", so you gotta give every character that you don't find boring a label to justify why you like them.)

I think the term "morally gray" has become a buzz word thrown around for any kind of character that isn't one dimensionally good or evil.

Jiang Cheng isn't morally gray. He is a bad person. Again, a PERSON. Not a monster, not some sort of creatures that has no concept of humanity, just. A bad person.

Society's habit of separating people that do bad things from themselves, that "us vs them" mantality, that dehumanization of bad people, it just leave a bad taste in my mouth. Even fucking serial killers have qualities, can be smart or charismatic or empathetic. Even pedophiles have hobbies and people that love them. Even rapists have people that they love and respect.

Being a terrible person doesn't mean that they're not human. There is no one in the world that has absolutely no redeeming qualities to them. But because of that separation that so many people take for the truth, because of that "they did this because they're a monster, but I'm not so I would never do this", people just cannot accept when a bad person isn't bad all the time.

They'll look at Jiang Cheng that, ultimately, loves his family and is arguably hard working, and they'll think that that means he's "morally gray", because he possesses good qualities, completely ignoring the fact that he's just a trash human being in general.

Low key, it pisses me off. Especially the people that relate so hard to him, and ask me if I wouldn't do the same in his shoes. Because no. I fucking wouldn't cause genocide. I wouldn't torture and kill complete strangers because they dared to have a surname I don't like or because they make me think of someone I resent from my past.

Like, I took can see myself in him, totally. He IS well written, and between the cartoonishly bad Xue Yang and the paragons of moral virtue that is Wangxian, he's definitely the one that feels closest to an everyday man, in personality if you ignore all the murders. I am petty, I hold grudges, I can be entitled and selfish, I am overall a massive rude cunt, but I do not want to hurt people and everyday I strive to be better than the last, even in infinitesimal ways. As should anyone. But that is something that Jiang Cheng doesn't even acknowledge, stuck as he is in his victim mentality and inferiority complex.

But Jiang Cheng is morally bankrupt. He is not morally gray. Not even dark gray. As an adult, he is painstakingly human and in general, a bad person.

And that is OK.

To make him a better person, you don't have to change his entire character with half assed head canons, just make him acknowledge his flaws and let him (finally) grow as a person, past that stubborn mentality he has had for decades.

He IS a bad person, but even bad people have a capacity for growth and change, of the moment they allow themselves to. If he ever gets forgiven for his past actions, that's on the people he has hurt, not that it should even be considered in his journey towards growth.

(Frankly, I don't think he would be. I think he shouldn't be, but that's not for me to decide. However, I can definitely JC finally making some tiny progresses but for all the wrong reasons, and get insulted when, if he ever even get to that point, his apologies don't end up fixing everything. He is totally the kind of person that would see you being mad at them and feel like he's the one being victimized because you didn't accept his half assed apologies. The emotional maturity on this man is below -100.)

(Also, Wei Wuxian isn't morally gray in the total opposite, in that he is such a good person, be it morally or emotionally, just. God, I envy his mental fortitude and his capacity for forgiveness and love.)

Sorry again for the ask, just had to rant somewhere about this and I am kind of curious about how you consider the "morally gray" argument. I think it's total bullshit, if the entire post didn't tell you, but yeah, I'm curious.

I hope I was coherent enough, I did not plan this ask at all, it was all streams of consciousness.

So before I get to the actual material of your rant—of which I agree with—I want to go on a tangent. Bad people as a category are not “dehumanized.” Dehumanization is the act of stripping someone or a group of people of their humanity as a tool of oppression, and it must come with material consequences. Saying that a continent of people are only capable of non-human animal intelligence to justify centuries of enslavement is dehumanization. Saying that a country of people are born terrorists to justify flattening their homeland and claiming it by a different name is dehumanization. Claiming that the man who called you out on your desires to be the new oppressors is a literal demon wanting to destroy your heritage in order to justify leading an army to kill him and his charges while attempting to remove their ability to reincarnate is dehumanization. Calling a child abuser a monster is not dehumanization. It is just an insult.

In fact, the “human traits” of terrible human beings do not need to be defended, because more often than not the absolute worst human beings are materially protected from the consequences of their actions by people who want to defend their “humanity.” In mdzs, I don’t give two fucks about Jiang Cheng’s one “human” trait of loving his nephew, because his “inhumane” traits of abusing said nephew and everyone else in his life intentionally overshadow that by his own design. Jiang Yanli loved her son just as much and lost much more than Jiang Cheng ever did, but she didn’t become an unrepentant monster. Humans are not “monsters-in-waiting” whereby we must act as if every individual is always one step away from committing unspeakable acts of depravity. If that was the case, we would not have survived as a community-dependent social species. Therefore, I do not find Jiang Cheng as the most relatable character ever because I do not find the way that he gives into anti-human behaviors to be relatable to me on a personal level or to be representative of most people’s actions throughout the course of their lives. To feel pain is human, and to have outbursts about it is understandable. To abuse about it? To murder about it? To mass murder about it??? Absolutely anti-human, anti-community, and the type of behavior that can only survive and thrive in an environment that privileges people with those specific “inhumane” traits above everyone else. (One might even call it the environment of a corrupt hierarchy of power that mdzs critiques.) The exact opposite of dehumanization. So if I choose to call Jiang Cheng a monster, it is to intentionally point out the ways that his conscious actions as a character in this story are a negation of human life and community.

On that note, I’ve discussed how this fandom uses “morally gray” in this ask (excuse the fact that I switch between “grey” and “gray” lmao). To bring back a point from my rant from above, Jiang Cheng has his one (1) good trait leveraged by fandom to whitewash his crimes under the guise of “morally gray,” while Wei Wuxian is the one actually being dehumanized by that same label as people use it to justify his literal murder (and those of the Wen remnants) in the story, so that’s my feelings on that. Whether Jiang Cheng can be redeemed or not, I frankly do not care to speculate because the story concludes his character arc at him regressing back into Jiang “hunter of Wen” Cheng, still rich, still single, and still only loved by his nephew. At the end of the day, he is not a real person and I’m only here for wangxian.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Since you asked for more asks 🫂

Here's one for Josh's point of view again: do you keep count of the many times you found yourself in jail? How does it feel to be jailed once again after a drunken binge?

Hello! I really do appreciate these asks, it's helping keep my head level. But without further ado. Joshi's pov (he rambles before he starts panicking. I've set this during a 4e 201 fic i'm writing where he's rarely sober except for after he's slept off a bender and he's in and out of gaol a lot. He's painfully sober during this)

If I'm honest, I stopped counting a long time ago. There was once a time in my life where I fought tooth and nail to not find myself locked in a cell again but evidently, I'm not very good at it.

I'm technically still on the run from my conscription two hundred years ago, since like I kinda just left after I got Corprus. I'm aware that my original sentence had been fucked about with a fuck tonne, so I don't really know how long my original sentence was. Last I heard it was 55 years- course that was before it got changed again to execution. Apparently that's part of the reason I was picked for playing folk hero - my death was meant to be useful. Kinda bit them in the ass, aye?

As you can imagine, I'm not really the compliant sort. Cosades would have me thrown into the dungeons of Fort Moonmoth every time I fucked about. I'll be honest here, I do have a bit of an issue with being in total darkness. You don't spend twelve years in a tiny, solitary cell with no view of the sun and be okay, I think. I sleep with a lamp burning, even after all this time. Cosades knew that I think and that's how he got me as far as he did. It's why I killed him.

So I really tried my best to avoid finding myself in another gaol cell for a really long time. Mind you, I had Erra to keep me from fucking up too much back then. I didn't find myself back in a cell until I was back in Cyrodiil just before the Oblivion Crisis. Think I stopped counting how often I got thrown in gaol to sleep off a binge or for beating the shit out of some dumb fuck that looked at me wrong around then too. Yeah, it wasn't my best time or anything. I kinda go up and down with my drinking, yeah?

I'm pretty bad with it now, I know that and I'm fucking astounded they keep letting me out. I got thrown in Falkreath's Gaol the other day for breaking some n'wah's face and I can tell you, that place is unpleasant. The cells are flooded and that water isn't particularly clean. Not a great place to wake up after passing out somewhere near whatever their tavern's called, yeah?

I can tell you that I still feel panic every time I wake up to the feeling of shackles around my ankles. The Redoran back in Raven Rock didn't do that though, I think Veleth figured I wasn't really a danger to anyone but myself and the Redeemer shrine up at the Temple after the first few incidents.

I'm usually sober, or almost sober when I wake up and that means my brain is fucking yelling at me about how much of a failure I am. I feel so fucking empty all the time. Just all the fucking time! Then Nerevar gets in there and-

SHUT UP!

Sorry, um... I don't feel good when I'm in there. I spiral coz of all the thoughts and if I'm in a cell with someone else it's so much fucking worse! Like, I've killed a guy for as little as a touch on the shoulder. I'm not proud of it, and I may not be able to go back to High Rock for a long fucking time. I don't do well locked up and yet I'm always fucking up and getting myself thrown right back in there!

I don't know, I don't know which way is up half the time. I sometimes wonder if I'll really step in it again like I did when I was a kid and get thrown in a real prison again. I got shanked in the gut once when when I was at that tobacco plantation and I still have nightmares about it. I've always thought that that was how I'd meet my end and theres nothing to stop me from dying from blood loss. It just takes far longer than a normal guy.

I've tried.

I don't do well locked up. I just wish I could stop being a fuck-up.

[drawnbadly-blog]

Hellish Bells 10: Protection

Charlie was just. So. HAPPY!

It had been five months since the drama of the forced engagement started. Five months of trying to break down Alastor’s barriers. She didn’t think they were doing a shabby job of it.

Right now, Alastor and Vaggie were battling over the flower arrangements. Alastor was insisting on pitcher plants and Venus fly traps being mixed in. Charlie did disagree with him a tiny bit. Vaggie was full-on ‘no’. When Charlie had left them, Vaggie had set up a chart on the most complimentary colors for a bouquet that matched with red and blue.

Charlie had decided to talk with some of the residents. She hadn’t done a walk like that for at least a month. Her focus had been so hard on Alastor that she was neglecting her guests.

“How’s therapy going?” Charlie asked when she stopped by a nook to talk with Tom. She was rather worried about him; he got drunk an alarming amount of days. There was something going on.

“It’s fine,” he snipped, dumping some of his booze down his gas mask. “I’ll Ascend at some point if I keep going, right?”

“It…doesn’t quite work that way,” Charlie said.

“Well then, I’m fucked.” Tom sighed and started to get up. “Time to refill the cup.”

Charlie blocked him, making him sit down and move over as she put herself in the same seat. “Drinking your problems away doesn’t work. It’s temporary at best.”

“I’ll take ‘temporary’,” Tom said. “It’s better than reality.”

“Why don’t we break down why you want to get away from reality.” Charlie asked, “You didn’t drink this much when you first checked in.”

Tom gripped his glass hard. “When I got here, I was trying to get away from my coworker . That bitch ran me off even before I decided to try and Redeem myself. Super cunt.” He pointed accusingly at the bar. “Now, I have to watch that piece of shit on the screen all day, every day.” He gripped his head. “No matter where I go, she’s constantly following me.”

“So, you’re drowning your trauma with alcohol,” Charlie inferred.

He looked down at the ice in his glass. Swirling them around, he sighed. “Something like that.”

“Would it help if the tv was turned off?” Charlie suggested.

“Not completely.” Tom pulled out his phone. “Katie sends me messages regularly. I’ve tried switching numbers, blocking her, getting an entirely new phone. Every time, she finds me again and sends me these.”

On the screen were many, many new messages from ‘Bitch’. Each one was more vulgar than the last. Katie was clearly trying to taunt him into replying.

Charlie frowned. “We could take your phone and put it somewhere you won’t be tempted to look at it.”

“And lose contact with my kids ?! Are you kidding me!?”

A stray thought, Alastor mentioning her splitting up families, almost made her cringe. Now was not the time to be thinking about that sort of thing!

“Hm…” Charlie thought hard on it. Then, idea! “I can go talk to her!”

“What?” Tom seemed dumbfounded. “ Talk to her ? You’re joking, right?”

“Nope!”

Tom slammed a hand on the table. “That bitch is one of the irredeemable ones. She still hates you for showing she wears a wig on television. I still love you for that.”

A plan started forming in her head. It sounded like a bit of good cop, bad cop was needed. “Don’t worry, I have it covered.”

“ How ?”

A smug smile was followed by, “I’ll go talk to her with Alastor!”

Tom thought for a second. He admitted, “Yeah, that might work.” Chuckling, he added, “You should skip to your fiance eating her. It’d be best for everyone involved.”

“What? No!” Charlie shook her head, making an X with her arms. “Nope nope nopity nope! No eating. Just…” She searched for the right words. “...a bit of emotional coercion!”

It sounded worse when she said it out loud.

“Eh. I still say eat her.” Tom sighed. “I think I’ll go sleep some of it off.”

This time Charlie let Tom out of the booth. He gave Charlie a two-finger salute before making his way for the main stairs up to the rooms for the guests. Charlie let out her own sigh once he was out of earshot.

She said her thoughts out loud. “Okay, so, one of your guests is being tormented by their former coworker. You promised to take care of it. The coworker is a very not nice person who hates you. Good cop, bad cop might work. Which requires Alastor’s help.” Charlie rubbed her head. “This will definitely not be a disaster.” She paused, then corrected, “Hopefully.”

——————————

“Okay, I think I see where you’re coming from. What about splitting the difference? Have the killer plants in the vases around the room to keep the peace, and no killer plants in the bouquets?”

“That may work,” Alastor allowed. “Would you like to shake on it?”

“ No .”

Their words echoed out of the penthouse suite down the stairs that Charlie was climbing. Charlie could feel her eyes shining bright and a giant smile grace her face. It really touched her, them getting along and actually talking without her there. It meant that things in the future would go more smoothly.

The future … She tried not to get lost in the idea of MARRYING VAGGIE and Alastor. The thought on Alastor was less so than Vaggie, but Charlie could feel some real excitement about it. She still couldn’t get it out of her head that she was being forced into it, that it wasn’t entirely natural. She mentally swept it to the side.

Charlie shook off her momentary pause and opened the door all the way. Vaggie and Alastor were at Vaggie’s color chart making ‘corrections’ here and there. There were a lot of crossed out words. Alastor looked amused while Vaggie looked like she had a headache. As the door creaked open, they both turned towards it.

They both straightened up and looked more relaxed as they both greeted her at the same time.

“Charlie!”

“My dear bride!”

“Hi guys!” She shut the door behind her. How to break the topic?

“What did you want to talk about?” Vaggie asked.

“Yes, what are you thinking?” Alastor said, “Your cringe and hesitancy gives you away!”

Drat! Either she was too easy to read or her partners had caught on to her tells. Shaking it off, she said, “One of our guests is having some trouble with…someone.”

“Okay?” Vaggie looked on expectantly, Alastor with his neutral smile.

“And, I was hoping, maybe, we could go talk to this person? Maybe play good cop, bad cop? Maybe?” Charlie hoped she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt.

“I can do that!” both Alastor and Vaggie said at the same time. They looked at each other and descended into a vicious staring contest, Alastor’s lip turning up and Vaggie glaring.

“My dear Vaggie, you must realize that as an Overlord, my position allows me to better handle Sinners!” Alastor said in the strict polite tone he used when he was covering himself.

“Whoever this is, I’m sure my spear will make them change their mind.” Vaggie glanced at Charlie. “Who is it?”

This time, Charlie definitely cringed. “Katie Killjoy.”

Vaggie’s face fell as Alastor laughed. Vaggie asked, “You do realize she isn’t afraid of anything, right?”

“She isn’t afraid of you ,” Alastor corrected.

“That was before everyone learned I’m an Angel.” Vaggie traced a finger along her spear’s blade. “I’m sure she’s changed her mind about me.”

“You literally said she’s not afraid of anything, even you,” Alastor reminded her. He partially transformed as he said, “ She’ll be afraid of me .”

“Vaggie, I was hoping for someone…more outwardly evil?” Charlie said.

Vaggie paused, then said, “What? You want someone more evil ?”

“More outwardly evil,” Charlie repeated.

Vaggie’s eye twitched. Alastor bowed. He graciously said, “I’m at your service, Charlie! Now…”

Alastor asked, eyes glinting, “When would you like me to eat her?”

“ No eating .”

“You say that now. I’m certain you’ll change your mind!”

“I won’t,” Charlie said cheerily. She waved for him to follow. “Come on! Let’s go help our guest!”

“But of course!”

Vaggie looked frustrated as they left. Charlie would have to make it up to her later.

——————————

“Here we are!” The shadows around them subsided as they stood in front of a tacky, gaudy townhouse in a less terrible part of the Pride ring. It was trying to scream ‘I am rich and powerful’ but only came across as desperate. Alastor twirled his cane. “How would you like to handle this?”

“First, I’ll see if she will listen to me make my case. If she says no to all of it, I want you to come up behind me and be scary!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Sounds rather boring,” Alastor noted, smiling genially.

“It’s okay! If you’re scary enough, I’m sure she’ll change her mind.” Charlie skipped up a couple of steps and waved at Alastor. “Stay right there! You’ll know when you need to step in!”

Charlie stopped at the front door. Before she knocked, she straightened her shirt and jacket and took a quick breath. Then she used the door knocker.

It took a minute for Katie to get to the door. Charlie didn’t knock again; she could hear the potent swearing from where she stood. The door flew open outwards to Charlie’s surprise, making her dodge backwards to keep from getting hit.

“For the last damn time, YOU HAVE THE WRONG ADDRESS!” Katie yelled before she noticed Charlie. Her hair was haphazardly shoved onto her head. Pure hatred flashed across her face as she hissed, “You .”

“Hi! As I can tell, you remember me from when I was on your program last.” Charlie said, an attempt at a smile trying to get through the cringe.

“Go the fuck away, bitch!” Katie tried to shut the door. Charlie blocked her. This was too important to let go! A soul was at stake!

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Charlie began her spiel. “As you know, Tom Trench is trying to Redeem himself.”

Katie snorted. “Yeah, like the lil’ shithead he is. Why should I care?”

Charlie said cheerily, “He’s making great progress! There’s one little itty bitty thing that’s holding him back.” She motioned at Katie with her hands. “That’s you.”

“Really,” Katie drawled. Then, to Charlie’s horror, she laughed. “Oh holy hells, that’s great! That loser doesn’t deserve anything.” Her eyes narrowed at Charlie. “Neither do you.”

“If you could just listen -”

“I heard you loud and clear. You know what I’m gonna do?” She pulled out her phone, making a show of typing on it. “I’m going to text him more .”

Charlie felt herself starting to get angry. “That won’t help anyone!”

“No, it won’t.” Katie stared her down. “You really think you can intimidate me? You’re as much of a loser as that cocksucker Tom!”

“At least I’m not a hairless hag ,” Charlie snapped.

Before she could apologize for losing her temper, Katie struck. She let loose a solid, loud slap against Charlie’s cheek. It was strong enough to make her almost fall down the stairs. If she hadn’t been as powerful as she was, she was certain her nose would be bleeding.

“You bitch !” Katie growled. “I’m going to grind…you…” Her gaze had ventured behind Charlie. Her pupils were pinpricks and her mouth was twisted in horror.

Charlie didn’t understand. Then a shadow eclipsed her. She looked up.

Alastor was a pure monster . The Wendigo was on full display, his eyes black dials and black tentacles coming out of his back. His teeth had elongated like he was going to chew something to pieces.

“ How DARE you hurt my bride!? ” He carefully grabbed Charlie and set her to the side as he climbed the stairs, towering over Katie Killjoy. “ I’m going to destroy you. Tear your body apart, eat your screaming soul on my radio show. Spit you up and re-eat you over and over until everyone knows not to touch Charlie and Vaggie. You’ll live in my gullet with all the rest of the fools that dared to cross the Radio Demon. ”

Alastor reached out, grabbing Katie and opened his mouth. The pure terror on the news anchor's face made Charlie certain that she’d been scared enough. Charlie had to do something!

She grabbed one of Alastor’s legs and shouted, “Stop!”

To her surprise, Alastor did pause with Katie positioned to drop in his mouth. He looked down. “Why? This bitch deserves everything she gets. ”

“We did what we came for! Look at her! She’s terrified!” Charlie hugged his leg for all she was worth. “Please don’t eat her!”

He contemplated that for a moment. Alastor suddenly shrank, letting Katie fall head-first on the cement. He then said, “How can I deny a plea from my dearest Charlie?”

Katie righted herself, shaking. It looked like she’d wet herself; her clothes wet at the crotch. Her hair had disappeared somewhere. After a shivering breath, she stuttered, “I-I won’t go after Tom again. I’ll delete his number. Hell, I’ll block his number. That’ll work, right?”

Charlie sighed, then said, “Yes, it will.”

“Good!” She jumped to her feet and raced for her door. “You’ll never have to worry about me again!” Slamming the door, Charlie could hear a multitude of locks being put in place.

“Mission accomplished!” Alastor said with a giant proud grin on his face.

Charlie laughed weakly. “Yeah.” Clearing her throat, she suggested, “Let’s go get ice cream.”

“Oh?” Alastor pondered. “What has upset you, my dear?”

Again, she was too easy to read. This time it was probably for the best. She said, “I’m…” Charlie looked at him. “Am I really that important to you?”

“Of course!” Alastor put an arm around her shoulders. “We are partners! We’ll never be apart!”

“If I am, could you please not eat people? Like, full-on monster swallowing people on my behalf?”

If Alastor would have ever frowned, this was the closest it came. The corners of his lips twitched and he withdrew his arm, though he was able to keep a smile on his face. “Why?”

“I don’t want everyone to be too afraid to come to the hotel because you might eat them,” Charlie said simply.

“Hm…” He thought for a moment. Then he finally said, “I will refrain from eating possible guests. But I will not tolerate any disrespect towards you or Vaggie.”

Charlie assumed this was the closest to him promising not to eat people for her without making a deal. She considered asking for a deal before the thought cleared from her head. Making any more deals was a bad idea.

Her mind wandered to how protective he’d been. It was another tic on the box that he was growing to care for herself and Vaggie. She was sure Vaggie would take it all the wrong way and threaten him. Charlie, for her part, understood where Alastor was coming from. Daring to hurt his brides when he was trying to cultivate a high-tier position with them would have made him seem weak. At the same time, Charlie was hoping there was more to it than that.

It was then Charlie realized that Alastor was walking right next to her. Normally he kept his distance from others when walking anywhere. It gave her an idea. She reached out with a hand, at first brushing against his own before grabbing and holding his hand.

He didn’t hold hers back but neither did he pull away.

[anemia-rp]

I can't stand people that are overly optimistic all the time and they tend to get on my nerves. I understand that people should not be pessimistic all the time, but I would say I'm mostly realistic. I try my best not to lose control, but sometimes my emotions get the better of me. Like if someone really pisses me off then I say he had it coming if I just go ahead and punch them. I just want people to stay away from me and I don't really care what they think about me.

I want to interaction with someone that seems to have a brain and is capable of using it. Someone gullible is entertaining in the beginning, but they're not a challenge. So I agree with you on that. And I would say it's rare to find an equal opponent.

Well said. The experiences we make shape us in different ways and depending on the path you take you become a different version of yourself. And you can never say which experience will change you in what way. I think it's possible to get a small glimpse of someone's core if you're truly willing to see. I show different sides of myself to someone I deem worthy or in the very rare case only realize I showed a new side to someone after I did already.

I decided if it's a monster people see in me, then I will be exactly that monster. I'm confident if I saw I doubt no one decided to really understand me so far. People have no idea what I'm capable off, but they stay away from me anyways. I'm making sure no one makes fun of me either. I refuse to let anyone walk over me ever again. So what you tell me is safe with me. Let's see whether you can trust me on this even though you have no reason to do so.

Not a complete asshole, huh? Maybe there is a tiny part of me, that makes me redeemable. The small acts of kindness that get easily overlooked, I see. Strangle enough I can imagine you in an old folk's home, telling them stories like you would little kids. I bet you would be popular with them. I'm not sure whether old people would like me.

I wouldn't say it means much to me. It's more like a part of me believes I'm better of there. I'm better off in a world with no rules, where I can do whatever I want, a world in which people stay away from me. A world that is closer to hell.

Guess it's best to be realistic, but what's that even? Anyway, that's interesting, I'm impulsive as well when it comes to slamming my fist into someone's face, but I'm not impulsive at all when it comes to positive feelings. And of course how I look like in the end is the most important. Nothing is worth it to lose my dignity for it.

True. I don't only want the challenge of a fight but the challenge for me to have to show other sides of me, too.

If someone is too submissive I've got a harder time to trust them because there's nothing that could be a safe place for me among them. And so I rather hide my weak spots.

Good method. Why wasting your time on convincing someone otherwise? I usually do it like that, too. I don't go around gossiping either. Anyway, I told you relatively much about me already, but yeah, I'd rather trust someone who doesn't try hard that others trust them. Guess that's about authenticity.

Yeah, huh? I'm friendlier than some people expect and wanna see. And I can have manners if I wanna have them. If you show too openly that you're leery it will push people away, no matter how old. But if you appear relaxed and speak with many emotions in your face they will turn to you. That's how it is mostly.

I'm sure not everyone is made to fit into this world. So probably it's good there is something like parallel worlds to hide and be yourself in. If more people knew this there would be billions of escapists I guess. I wonder if there is still anyone left who's fully satisfied with the world how it is these days.

[dear-mrs-otome]

Why Silvio does that? Because we know that he really does love Emma. Why push her away? That was the first time they kissed?

I've been thinking about this myself for a long while now, Nonny, because it is so baffling almost. I think I've parsed out at least what I consider to be the 'why'…but let me be very clear, none of my ramblings below condone his actions whatsoever. What he did to Emma was wrong, and no amount of armchair psychoanalyzing could or should excuse his behavior.

That said, if you're interested in the essay and my opinions, read on…

There's three influences on Silvio's action in this scene, I believe, and they all eminate from and manifest themselves in different but related ways.

Lack of knowledge/experience

Lack of tools

Lack of confidence

Let's tackle the biggest problem, #1, first. Fundamentally, Silvio is unacquainted with love - it's apparent from what he's said and what we've seen that he hasn't had a shred of romantic or familial affection in his life. He doesn't know how to recognize it, he doesn't know how to acknowledge it, and he doesn't know what to do with it. Like you said Nonny, the scene is all the more shocking because it's clear to anyone reading the story that at this point, Silvio is absolutely, 100%, head over heels in love with Emma. It's painfully obvious to everyone else around them from the way he hoards all of her time, the efforts and lengths he goes to on her behalf, and his obvious concern for her…but he's unable to articulate what his feelings for her are, and continues to attribute them to his original purpose of hassling Rio.

In a similar vein, he has no means of expressing his feelings even if he were to acknowledge them. Silvio's a man of interesting dichotomy - I would go so far as to say that's one of his defining characteristics almost, that he can encompass polar opposites within him almost simultaneously. He both loves and hates his brother Rio. He can be incredibly blunt and rude on one hand, and have impeccable clothing and mannerisms on the other. He can negotiate a deal with uncanny skill, but also brute forces his way through problems, doors, and relationships without an iota of finesse. A confident man but cripplingly shy and anxious as well. He knows of only two ways to get the things he wants, as even he himself says - to buy it, or to take it.

What he wants is Emma. But none of the methods he knows how to obtain what he desires with are or should be applicable to a person, let alone someone you love. He tries both of them in this scene, and they both blow up in his face spectacularly, because he doesn't know how to ask for something that should only be freely given.

Both the first and the second problems snowball down and crash into the third, exacerbating it. In most areas of his life, Silvio is incredibly confident and self-assured. But when it comes to interpersonal relationships or emotions, it's clear that he is horribly anxious and unsure of how to handle either. He knows he's handsome, has money and intellect, but doubts his charisma or that anyone would ever find him good or charming or appealing for who he is inside. He's convinced that Emma finding out the bad things he's done will sour her completely on him, that much seems obvious from how badly he seemed to not want her to find out and how shook he looked when he realized she had. He thinks that he has no redeeming qualities that would outweigh those sins (at least that she would be interested in) and to spare himself the pain of having to confront that he doubles down defiantly on the bad…and is 'rewarded' when she does exactly what he assumed, and says her sentiments for him in the past tense. A self-fulfilling prophecy at its finest.

Better to wreck everything while in control than let her see his honest feelings and have the 'upper hand'- because I suspect those honest feelings have been used to belittle and control him his entire life.

We find evidence later in a tiny flashback for how much her calling him a beast must have wounded him (as it should) when he recalls a time that Rio had accused him of being not even human…and how vehemently he didn't want to be a beast even then. I think he was so caught up in his own pain there for a moment he didn't realize how far over the line he had crossed, until Emma forced him to see it.

So. Our sequence of events is thus, in my opinion:

Silvio dreads Emma discovering how much of a dick he was in the past, because he doesn't value himself. Said fear comes true, and when she questions him on it, he defiantly confirms her version of things rather than being honest and admitting his envy of Rio and how it stems from his own lack of love. Rather than risk being vulnerable and owning up to his own feelings for her, because he's unable and unwilling to take that chance. This only seems to bolster his assumptions when she takes this VERY poorly, and in a desperate bid to retain what he wants, he employs questionable tactics that I think a part of him knows would never work - but if she's to leave or hate him already, what does he have to lose by trying? Or by making it a surety and putting an end to things that won't leave him questioning the 'what ifs'.

And yes, to answer your final question - that was the first time they had kissed.

[cloudenthusiast2]

To be a human - Scaramouche x reader - Part 7 (Final)

You knew committing to a relationship with Scaramouche would be no easy task but you loved him dearly and unlike others, you believed he wasn't evil. But as a mortal and the devoted protector of your village you were too much of a good person, too much of a human compared to him and your differences slowly start to show.

Previous: Part 6

Length: 4000 words

Trigger warnings: blood, mentions of loss

A. note: Scaramouche is my favourite character in the game and I really love him. But I couldn't help and feel awful when he said those words in Inazuma. Look, I don't think that Mihoyo is gonna let the huge opportunity slip and not make him playable (for which we need to have at least a tiny bit of friendship with him and well, right now mc straight up hates him) but in case that does happen, in case he doesn't get a redemption arc, I made one myself. I wrote this to redeem him in my own, and hopefully your eyes as well. I hope you enjoyed reading this story of that little bastard as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It was fair to say that Scaramouche was stunned by the sight of the local people.

Certainly not because he suddenly grew fond of them. It was rather because the way they appeared out of blue when little Yu gave them a sign. She let out three short whistles and the forest came to life in front of the harbinger.

Old men and woman, little children and whole families walked towards them. It was clear even for Scaramouche that they looked uneasy and hostile. They surely wouldn’t have appeared in front of the fatui if it wasn’t for Yu.

The sixth harbinger was astonished.

Because they would trust someone, especially a child so much.

Because there were so many of them.

He counted the people walking towards Yu. Way more than he’d thought there would be.

These people were injured, dirty and exhausted. But they were alive. And all because of one person.

‘Impressive’ he thought to himself.

Yu talked to them, explaining why the fatui was there and promising that they’re not in danger any more. The people seemed less at ease in his presence now but the harbinger still felt the piercing gazes. If looks could’ve killed he would have been dead in an instant.

He knew they all blamed him for the things that had happened. Maybe they even thought he was the one who made the abbys attack their village.

But Scaramouche got used to these types of glances during the years and he did not care about them any more. All that mattered was that they were able to help.

He stood behind little Yu who was still clinging onto her doll. Scaramouche stared at the bloodstains on the toy as she asked the people of Qingce to help find you.

The thought to promise them money crossed his mind but the instantly threw it away. He just somehow felt that it would be very wrong.

These people won’t help him because he can pay them. They won’t help because Yu asked them to either. They will help because you had been guarding them for years.

Mentioning your name caused them to stir up, to get loud and the all of a sudden the whole crowd was ready to go and search in the mountains.

It was obvious how much they loved and respected you. Maybe even more than Scaramouche used to, he realized.

Yu turned to him and nodded.

‘I think we can go now.’

‘How are you going to search everything?’ the harbinger asked as he crouched down to the child. It wasn’t needed since he wasn’t much taller than her but it felt like the right thing to do.

Yu’s eyes wandered to the hat. She reached out and gently touched it.

Scaramouche normally would’ve ended the person who messed with his hat but when the child did it, he somehow felt no urge to do so.

‘It’s because so many people are watching’ he explained to himself. But it still felt a bit weird not being annoyed.

He cleared his throat so Yu would focus on him again.

‘We know this place well’ she answered, letting her arms fall back to her side. ‘We will split up and warn each other if we find something.’

‘My people are out too.’

‘Then call them back.’

The harbinger glared at the child. She really was fearless, wasn’t she, huh. First touching his hat and now disrespecting the fatui.

‘You know…’ he crossed his brows as he began to speak but Yu quickly cut him off.

‘Everyone is afraid of them. And they’ll just be in the way. They don’t know the mountains, do they?’

Scaramouche clenched his teeth together. But he had to admit that the girl was right.

He stood up and walked towards the agents standing by a nearby bridge. They were there since the people appeared to make sure they don’t try to do anything to their harbinger.

He gestured to bring them closer then stood and crossed his arms.

‘First, I want to know how a big group of fatui agents were unable to find anyone when there was a whole village hiding in the forest’ he questioned them with a glare.

The agents were bowing already but now they bowed even deeper.

‘F-forgive us, our lord!’ a pyro agent answered. ‘They’re locals and we…’

‘Spare your apologies, I don’t care.’

Scaramouche closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh. He really didn’t care, he only snapped at them to let out a little frustration.

‘Call back everyone from the mountains. And let these people do what they want. Anyone who disturbs them in any way shall be punished.’

‘But my lord…’

‘Do as I say!’

Scaramouche turned his back to them and the agents hurried away. He watched as the people of Qingce split up and began their search in the forest, around the destroyed village.

He looked up to the mountains. Clouds hid the most of them, they were so huge, so high. And there were so many places you could be.

Was is it even possible that you were alive?

Scaramouche never lied to himself and this was the first time he wanted to. He simply just didn’t want to accept the small chances of finding you. He wanted to feel hope.

‘You better be alive, Y/n’ he muttered to himself. ‘For your own sake.’

For his sake.

*

‘Have you taken a look around in that cave too?’

‘I haven’t but I can go if…’

‘Stay.’

Scaramouche climbed to the cave and looked into the hole. It was smaller than it seemed from below and inside it there was absolutely nothing.

He quietly let himself down. He jumped on a bigger stone on the path under him, the bells violently jingling on his hat.

Little Yu asked nothing. It was obvious from the harbinger’s expression that he found nothing.

The air began to feel a little chilly in the mountains. The sun was getting ready to go down and let the moon take its place.

They’ve spent their whole day with searching. They’ve found absolutely nothing so far.

There were a lot of traces left behind the abbys order and the monsters. It was also clear that the fight continued outside of the village as well. Corpses of dead monsters bordered the narrow paths.

But your body was nowhere to be find.

Scaramouche looked up to the sky. The first star had already appeared. And with that, their last piece of hope started to slip away.

‘We haven’t looked there yet.’

The harbinger snapped out of his dark thoughts and glanced at the child in front of him. She pointed at a smaller mountain nearby.

‘That’s very far away from the village’ Scaramouche claimed. ‘We’d be just wasting our time.’

‘Then where do you want me to go?’ Yu asked.

The man let out a sigh. She was right, they’ve already looked through every bush and searched every rock on this mountain.

He started walking towards the other one without saying anything, and Yu silently followed him.

In the valley below them, lots of figures were moving and changing places. The locals still haven’t given up even though it was getting colder and darker with every passing moment.

A red dot appeared. Then another. They started lighting torches.

Scaramouche felt like choking. He touched his throat and fastened his steps.

He tried to banish the horrifying thoughts from his head but his desperate tries were unsuccessful.

You’re dead. They’re only going to find a cold body and not you. You’re dead and it is his fault.

He shook his head to quiet the voices and to get back into focusing on his search.

This made him realize that he hadn’t seen little Yu in a while. Scaramouche stopped and turned his head to check on the girl.

She was behind him a few meters away. Her movements were too slow to keep up with the harbinger’s.

‘Are you coming or not?’ The man growled at her. ‘Hurry up.’

‘Sorry…’ She was out of breath, quietly panting. ‘You can leave me behind. I know I’m just slowing you down.’

Scaramouche rose his brows at the young child who was not even tall enough to reach the ground from a bigger rock. Was she really that aware? What should he do now? Just leave her here? He was willing to do that, to be honest. The sun was about to completely disappear.

Yu grabbed the side of the rock. She let her feet down, trying to get down safely but she was too tired – the little girl stumbled and fell.

Scaramouche didn’t even realize he was reaching out – but a moment later he found himself holding the child in his own arms.

They stared at each other, the sixth Fatui Harbinger and the kid from Liyue. It was impossible to tell who was more surprised, the one holding or the one being held.

But it was the man who found his voice first.

‘Don’t think I’m gonna carry you like this to the other mountain.’

‘I didn’t think that’ she answered quietly.

Scaramouche cleared his throat and opened his lips. But before any other words could’ve come out of his mouth, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

They both jerked their heads up.

The sound was coming from below, south to the village.

The whistle was repeated – two short, two long ones.

‘They’ve found her’ Yu said.

*

Scaramouche had no memories of how he got down from the top of the mountain.

All he remembered was the crazy pace of his heartbeat. The darkness invading his head. That terrific feeling clenching his heart, incredible, deep fear he’s never experienced before.

There were many people standing in his way in front of a big cave. He pushed them away as he rushed to get closer.

It was dark. Everyone stood with a torch in their hands. He heard the whispers but the words were incomprehensiblenext to the loud beating of his own heart. There were figures but they were blurry, everything was blurry…

Until he saw you.

You were laying on the ground. Your body completely still, your chest not rising nor sinking. Your clothes torn, bloody.

There was so much blood.

He stumbled and fell on his knees in front of you. A local turned to him and spoke but he understood nothing. His hand was shaking as he reached out to touch you.

You were… cold.

He forgot how to breathe and just stared down at your body. Your messy hair hid your face and that just didn’t feel right.

Why was this happening?!

Everything was supposed to become alright after they’ve found you!

How dare you be dead, how dare you not wake up to his touch, to his wishes, to all wishes around you…!

‘Balladeer!’

He snapped out of the blurriness when someone grabbed his arm. An old lady with a serious look tried to pull him back.

‘Let go of me!’ he hissed, pushing her away. He groaned when the grip became stronger instead on his arm. Pain in his heart and body blinded him as he shouted. ‘I said, let go of me or else…’

‘Please stay out of the way of my people’ the lady asked in a calm tone. ‘She needs serious help.’

‘What help can you provide when she’s dead?!’ he screamed at her in a hoarse voice. ‘You stay away from her!’

‘Please calm down. Y/n is not dead… yet.’

Scaramouche slowly closed his eyes. The words echoed in his head.

She’s not dead. She’s not dead. She’s not dead. Yet.

He took a deep, shaking breath. The cold air in his lungs cooled him off a little.

You were alive. But also, only barely. He finally understood what that meant. But he couldn’t let himself feel any relief nor fear…

He was a harbinger, he was part of the Fatui under the rule of the almighty Tsaritsa. He was Scaramouche, the Balladeer who simply could not allow himself to show any vulnerability in front of mere mortals.

Even if it was about you.

Even if he wasn’t the same person any more.

‘Bring a healer’ he said in a lower tone.

‘We don’t have any vision bearers among us’ the lady answered. ‘But we’ll do everything to keep her alive.’

Scaramouche nodded and stood up. It took a lot of strength to tear his eyes from you but he forced himself to do it and turned around.

‘Alert my people and tell them to give you all that you need’ he told the locals as he fixed his hat. ‘Tents, medicine, food, everything.’

The people stood there in silence for a few seconds, not knowing whether to obey him. They only moved when the old lady from before thanked him. Then they finally set off towards the village.

Scaramouche wanted to turn back and take a glance at you one more time to make sure you’re really there and not just a hallucination. But suddenly little Yu appeared in his sight and that made him stay.

‘She’s alive’ the girl whispered. The mask she had worn so far finally broke and her expression was an expression of a little child. She seemed tired, sad and a little happy. ‘I’m so glad… Scara.’

The harbinger nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. His heart was still beating fast with fear but those heavy weights on his shoulders finally started getting lighter.

He felt something touching his hand and he opened his eyes to the sight of Yu holding onto him.

This type of physical connection was very far away from what Scaramouche would tolerate coming from a human but he felt way too tired to resist. He just let the little girl clench his pinkie and they both watched silently as some helpers grabbed your body and moved it to a safer place.

*

You felt like something that had been sitting on your chest for a while finally moved. Something even bigger, a huge, scary type of darkness slowly left your body.

It left you with the first breath you were aware of taking in a long time.

You let out a small sigh. And opened your eyes.

There was a fabric cover above you.

You were in a tent, safe and sound. Alive.

The first thing you noticed was the temperature. It was warm, welcoming and comforting. Lot of soft blankets covered your body which hurt badly but the pain was dim.

You tried to look around but your head was too heavy. You could barely tip your head to the side.

But the sight was worth it.

Your breath was taken away one more time. You just stared in silence and you could feel your eyes widen in shock.

‘You’re awake.’

Scaramouche closed the book he was reading and looked at you with a straight face.

‘Finally.’

He put the book down with a slow movement.

Mixed emotions invaded you. You fell from relief to happiness to fright in a span of a few seconds. You were alive and Scaramouche was here with you, but – why did he seem so distant? Was he still angry at you even after everything that had happened?

You almost let fear overrun you. Almost.

But your gaze fell on his hands and he couldn’t hide his true feelings from you any more. His hands were visibly trembling as he still held onto his book.

Little did you know he could have not read a single word written in the last couple of hours. He just sat there and watched over your sleep, not dozing off for even a second himself.

The shaking of his hands became even more obvious and he couldn’t hold himself back any more.

He moved closer and placed his trembling palms next to the sides of your body. He looked down on you from above and as you stared back at him, you could clearly see something that wasn’t there before.

The usual cold, emotionless blur was nowhere to be found in his dark eyes. Instead, there was pain. And a lot of it.

‘How dare you do this to me?’

During the years of your relationship, he’s grown to be comfortable in your presence but he never ever showed any signs of vulnerability in front of you and you just accepted that it’s probably never going to happen.

It was shocking, almost scary seeing him like this.

The desperate expression on his face softened and he let his head plop on your shoulders.

‘Scara’ you whispered. Your voice was hoarse and dry but it was your voice. You were able to speak.

The realization of how unlikely your survival was suddenly hit you and your eyes teared up.

‘Scara, I… I really thought I was gonna die…’

‘Then you’re stupid’ he answered, speaking into the blankets covering your shoulder. ‘You should know that you can’t die without my permission.’

You laughed through your tears. They streamed down on your face, straight into your ears. But even that felt so good. Crying was a sign of being alive from the very beginning of life and you never understood that so much than at that time.

‘Don’t… leave me ever again.’

You didn’t event think, the words just left your mouth.

‘Don’t worry.’ Scaramouche finally got himself together enough to sit up and at least pretend that he was alright. ‘You have successfully proved you’re not capable of taking after yourself so now I’m definitely stuck babysitting you till the rest of our lives.’

His movements said otherwise though. The way he caressed your cheek to dry the tears up showed that he’s not just stuck. He wantsto stay.

Just what kind of thinks did he go through in the past days? – the question occurred to you.

To think about it… why did he even come back? How did he hear what happened? And your people?! Were they safe?

So many questions echoed in your head and you couldn’t even put most of them into words that made sense. So opened your mouth and quietly asked:

‘What happened?’

‘I want to know the same’ he said. ‘What happened? How did you get so far away from the village? How are you alive in the first place?’

You thought back to the night. Pain stabbed you instantly and you had to close your eyes for a moment to calm it.

‘I don’t remember much. But I think the abbys wanted to take me with them. Is that… possible?’

‘I heard all kinds of things about them’ Scaramouche nodded. ‘It is very possible. Continue.’

‘There isn’t much to say… Obviously I tried to resist but there were too many of them. They probably realized I would be just a burden. I remember a mage knocking me out. But they didn’t kill me…’

‘Well, given your injuries, they must’ve thought there’s not a lot of time left for you. It really is a miracle that you’re alive.’ Scara stated. ‘And you were in that wet cave for an entire day too. You were nearly dead when we found you.’

‘We?’

You stared at him and your heartbeat dropped.

‘You mean…’

‘Yes’ he sighed. ‘That people of yours.’

He went silent for a moment then rolled his eyes.

‘They helped me out… I guess.’

‘So they’re all alive and safe?’ you asked and couldn’t help but laugh in relief. ‘That is so amazing! Thank you, Scara!’

‘Thank yourself, idiot’ he snorted. ‘You were the one who kept a whole abbys army away from them after all.’

The harbinger shook his head.

‘I hate that you were so reckless to do that… but I have to say I’m impressed. We should spar again sometimes.’

‘Aren’t you afraid you’re getting your ass kicked?’ you grinned.

‘I compliment you one time and you get this cocky?’ he crossed his eyebrows. ‘I have to put you back into your place, I see.’

You laughed and as you were finally strong enough to move a little, you grabbed his hand. He had to oppress his smile with force.

‘And how did you know… we were going to be attacked?’

The question made his task much easier. The harbinger’s face turned back to being serious once again.

‘I have my connections’ he answered briefly. ‘But you don’t have to worry, the fatui had nothing to do with the attack.’

‘I would never think that’ you rushed to make your words clear. ‘I just… hope that my people feel the same.’

Scara shrugged. Then averted his eyes as he thought of someone.

‘I don’t know about the others but there’s one person who clearly does.’

‘Who?’

‘That girl… Yu or whatever her name is.’

You stared at him in surprise. You’d never thought the day would come where he mentions a child and doesn’t frown. And to think that it’s Yu as well! Yu who was normally wary of strangers and such a gentle child…

Just what happened to him? – you asked yourself again.

You searched for answers in his eyes but it seemed like there were things that even this new type of Scaramouche, this more vulnerable and open one wouldn’t tell.

But it was alright. Maybe you didn’t need to know. You were just happy to be there and experience it yourself.

‘How is Yu?’ you asked.

‘Alright’ Scara muttered.

‘Her mother?’

‘Oh, her… Well…’

He hesitated for a moment and that was enough. Every good and warm feeling was instantly replaced by cold ones and you found yourself sitting up in dread.

‘Please tell me… She’s not…’

‘Hey, don’t sit up! Lie back right now!’

When you didn’t obey, Scaramouche pushed you back with his own hands. He was right, your body started aching terribly from moving and the physical pain almost outgrew the pain in your heart.

‘Is she…’

‘Yu’s fine. Don’t worry.’

‘No! I need to talk to her!’

‘You won’t.’

You clenched your teeth together in despair and Scara flinched. He saw himself in you when you did that. Earlier this day his expression was still this full of pain.

‘Scaramouche!’ you said, calling him by his first name which he suddenly realized, he hated more than that stupid nickname. ‘I will go and talk to her and you can’t stop me!’

‘I…’

‘Just think about everything you felt while I was missing! I know you don’t want me to go away again but you need to understand.’

‘All I’m trying…’

‘Maybe I really am cocky to think that it was painful to you but if I’m not and it really was, then just imagine that Yu feels like that too right now. And on top of that, she has no hope whatsoever. She knows that her mother is dead and there’s no…’

‘Oh, to Celestia, can you shut up for a moment?’ Scara interrupted you harshly. Then he frowned and quickly continued. ‘What I was about to say is that under no circumstances should you get up with these injuries. But you can talk to Yu.’

‘I can…?’

‘Yes, idiot. I’ll call her over.’

You stared at him in silence.

‘You’d… do that?’

‘Yes.’

‘So… you won’t mind if she stays with us?’

‘I guess not?’

‘Not even for a long time?’

‘I said no, stop asking these stupid questions.’

You were speechless and just gazed at him without saying anything for a long time.

You had mixed feelings about the Scara you woke up to so far. But this had finally convinced you that he really has changed into something better.

A slow smile formed on your lips. It grew bigger and bigger and it completely lit your face up.

‘You’re grinning like an idiot’ Scara claimed but nothing, not even his salty remarks could take away your happiness any more.

‘Scara, I really love you.’

‘You better do.’

He stood up and turned away as quickly as he could to try and hide the blush on his face. He knew if you saw that, you’d be teasing him about it till the rest of your lives together.

You were still grinning “like an idiot” as he was rushing to leave the tent. But even though he was in hurry, before he’d stepped out, he made sure to turn back and say:

‘I’ll be back.’

[ghostdrew22]

Angel || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No. Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: Lots of angst in the beginning, mentions of self-harm/self-destructive behavior, mentions of blood, quite a few mentions of the devil, ptsd, just a lot of dark themes ig (let me know if i need to add another warning) Summary: You’ve always been an angel in Draco’s eyes and now, years after the war, he’s reminded why once again.

WORDS: 3440

I’ve been wanting to write about the ‘devil on the shoulder’ trope for a while and I felt like @anchoeritic‘s 3K WRITING CHALLENGE was the perfect opportunity though i think i lost the plot a bit at some point and this probably isn’t what you had in mind.

i had to do so much research for this, probably the most research i’ve ever done for a fic. It’s a lot heavier than I’d intended for it to be (i almost cried at certain points) but I still really love it.

anyway this fic is inspired by ‘Angel’ by FINNEAS (which is a great song that I recommend listening to) and i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

~~~

Anger.

So much anger that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Red, hot, fury just begging to be unleashed.

He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes. When he opens them again his fist collides with the wall. “Fuck!”

The miniature Mephistopheles that’s made home on his shoulder tells him to keep going, that this is the only rational response. Draco heeds the advice until his knuckles are bleeding and there’s a dent in the wall.

He lets out a frustrated sigh as he thinks about you returning in a few hours, then he punches the spot one last time out of frustration. Draco’s own love for destruction lies parallel to the myths surrounding Beelzebub, his own virtues bringing him to peril instead of an unseen force of evil. But it’s much easier to believe that the voice always telling him to do wrong, is not his own.

Maybe this is who he is, a fucked up kid with anger issues. Maybe this is all he’ll ever be, knuckles spotted in crimson and harmful thoughts being shoved down as to not raise alarm.

He feels violated by the mark on his arm. Sobs stacking up in his lungs at the very thought, but all he can express is anger- all he can understand is the resent that crawls beneath his skin and settles into his bones like calcium.

Was it his choice? No. Did it matter? No. Choice means nothing in a world run by circumstance. Intention holds no value when there’s no action to follow through. In another world, a better world perhaps, he would’ve had the right to choose and he hopes that he would’ve chosen the right side- the good side.

Forgiveness, they say, is often practiced by the strong willed. He’d tried to forgive, he really had, but Iblis had told him that it didn’t matter who he forgave because they’d still done this to him anyway- they’d still sold his soul to the Devil.

“Draco, when will you forgive me?” She pleads and he shrugs with a thin smile.

“I don’t know mother. I don’t know.”

“It’s been years.” He turns a steal glaze toward her.

“And yet I still can’t get the mark off.”

“What am I meant to do?”

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s too late to do the right thing.”

“What would the right thing have been back then? Huh?”

“The right thing to do would’ve been to protect me.”

“I did protect you. I took the Vow for you!” She yells as she stands out of her chair and points an accusatory finger toward him. He’s seen this scene so many times before that it’s permanently imprinted in his mind, but this time he’s not a scared teenager being scolded by his mother.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” He stands as well, “I just asked you to save me. Why didn’t you save me?”

“What?” She’s taken aback,

“Summer before fifth. You told me that you’d had enough of him, you told me that we were going to leave and run away so that you could save me from him, from all of them.”

“So now you hate me because I couldn’t leave your bigoted father?”

“No, mother. I hate myself because you couldn’t leave my bigoted father.” He tucks his chair back into the table and pulls out his wand, “Thank you for dinner mother, it was lovely.”

Then he’s gone, and he doesn’t come back.

Draco had shut himself out from the world, hoping that his loathing would dissipate with time but it hadn’t. He still wakes up every morning with that tiny voice reminding him that he’s worthless, and he still believes it.

Why had he done it? Why had he allowed them to put the mark on his arm in the first place? Why had he put his own morals, his own principles, on the line to save a family who might not have done the same for him? Why had he allowed himself to succumb to the many ministrations of Diabolous, which dragged him further and further down the dark side?

Weakness. That’s the only answer he can conceive. Or maybe that’s the sound of Lucifer on his shoulder, consistently reminding him that he’s no match for the evil that resides deep within his soul. He can’t fight it, it’s who he is. He’s weak and he’s unholy. Bathed so often in sin that it’s sunk into his DNA. Does that even make sense?

Draco shakes his head and runs his hands down his face in an attempt to ground himself. But it doesn’t work, all he can see is red and all he can hear is his own conscience belittling him for continuously making the wrong choices. Why does he always make the wrong choices?

His throat so dry it feels as though he’s swallowed sand. His palms sweaty like he’s dipped them in oil. He paces around the room in a desperate effort to remember where you’d placed the box last time this happened. He can feel himself disconnecting from the world, feel himself sinking further and further into the dredges of his mind that torment him most.

That part of his brain that holds the memories, the shame, the anguish, is his biggest obstacle in recovery. It’s always on good days, days when… He blinks when he realizes that no fond memories come to mind. Does he even have good days? Or does this always happen, is this what’s become normal for him?

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and steps back in shock, completely forgetting about his mission to find the box. The man in front of him looks clean, taken care of. When had he become this man and stopped being the terrified teenager that never ate and wore bags beneath his eyelids like name tags.

There is muscle on his arms, taut beneath the dress shirt that he must’ve put on that morning before going to classes… or work? When had he earned the right to stop looking the way he felt? Which of his actions had merited his beauty returning, when the dark mark still lays clear beneath the dress shirt that he’s got on? There are hickeys along his chest- one, two, three, littered around his torso like a map to his heart- and he can only assume that they’d been left in the wake of your last meeting, because he can’t seem to piece together the memory of them being made.

You. Where are you? Why can’t he remember where you are or what you look like? Did you finally leave? Did you finally realise that he wasn’t worth any of the pain and anguish that he’d put you through? Had you ultimately decided that Draco and the dark mark could not be separated, both physically and mentally? Maybe he never managed to redeem himself in your eyes, and it hurt so much to lose you that he made himself forget.

Redemption, he’d searched far and wide for it. He’d spent the months after the war trying to find some spiritual cleanse for the ailment in his essence, had dabbled in every muggle religion he came across in hopes of finding something that would provide him freedom from guilt. The Bible, the Qur’an, the Gita, the Torah, the Guru Granth Sahib, the Tripitaka- none of the holy books he’d read had promised him enough solace to feel deserving of love from a higher entity. They had all just reminded him of the purity and innocence that muggles embodied, the same qualities he came so close to erasing.

Redemption wasn’t in the cards for him. If it had been a game of Poker, Draco would’ve been the first fold with the knowledge that he didn’t stand a chance against the better players at the table. Who were the better players? He didn’t really know, he just knew that he wasn’t one of them.

His eyes drift toward his reflection once more and he feels disgust crawl through his anatomy. Nausea, a familiar friend in times like these, making itself comfortable in the barrel of his gut. Why had he even eaten today anyway? Sustenance won’t fill the emptiness that’s making domicile in his chest, it won’t make him less of a habitat to repulsive regret and desolation.

He walks toward the dresser and picks up a pocket knife that’s sitting in-between some make up and a music box. Then like deja vu he can already feel the weapon pinching, digging beneath his skin as if it’s trying to excavate bone. He recalls blood pouring out, drowning his pale skin in spills of vermillion and carmine, and dropping to the floor. The floor, chalky tile with tiny chards of black glass engrained in it, something that he hadn’t come up with himself but liked anyway. Who had come up with that again?

Screams, familiar but unrecognizable, had filled his ears soon after. He remembers his arm being wrapped in a bandage, him being carried off the bathroom floor and taken to the Hogwarts infirmary, no, it was actually St Mungo’s. He remembers being treated and loud cries settling down into comforting whispers beside him. He remembers feather light touches being placed on his face and kisses settling onto the skin of his palm.

He remembers something good, but he doesn’t know what.

He remembers the injury, and knows that it didn’t work.

Draco takes a deep breath and puts the knife back down. Staring at his reflection once more he sees that the man standing before him is not the same child that had stepped into battle way back when. When was that? Months? Years? He can’t tell.

The box. The box will tell him. But he doesn’t know where it is, he doesn’t even know where he is anymore. This room is definitely not his Hogwarts dorm room, it’s not in Hogwarts at all, and it’s not his room in the Manor either. Where is he?

His eyes shoot up when he hears a door shutting, and soon after voices follow suit. The voices are coming toward him, in this strange room that he’s in, and Draco struggles to identify them. His dorm mates potentially? No, this clearly isn’t Hogwarts. Friends? His mother? You?

Then there’s a laugh, from a child, from two children, and suddenly none of it makes sense any more. He knows those voices, he knows those laughs, so well that they might as well be his own, but he can’t seem to attach faces or names to them.

A few of the voices drift off, further down the hall, and one gets louder as the door to the bedroom opens. Draco holds his breath as the person walks in, not knowing what to expect, and feels a confused sense of relief wash over him when he sees you standing there.

You laugh as you enter the room, “If you can get an outstanding in Transfiguration then we’ll get you whatever your heart desires.” You respond to your daughter as you recall how both you and Draco had struggled with the subject during your Hogwarts years.

You furrow your eyebrows at the state of your bedroom- documents scattered across the bed, clothes in tiny piles all over the floor, and a tiny dent in the wall beside the bathroom door. A sigh escapes your lips as you process the mess and prepare yourself for what’s about to come. You turn and your eyes land on your husband, and your heart breaks at the sight of him. He’d promised this morning that he’d be fine, it was the only reason that you’d left him alone, but clearly he wasn’t.

“Love? Are you okay?” You ask softly as you take the shoes off of your feet and close your bedroom door behind you. He tilts his head to the side momentarily in confusion, but then realisation flashes across his eyes and he takes quick strides toward you.

“Oof.” You breathe out when he pulls you into his chest and rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“Y/N.” He muffles into your shoulder and you feel your heart swell with love for him- this man who recognizes you instantly, even when the entire world is nothing more than a distant memory.

“Miss me?” You ask with a small laugh as you bring your hands up to wrap around him tightly. He mumbles an agreement and you smile, “I missed you too.”

“Bad day.” He whispers and you nod, rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him.

“I know baby, wanna talk about it?”

“No. Can’t remember.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” You pull him away from you and kiss his forehead with a warm smile, “We can just lie down for a while.”

He obliges as you pull him toward the bed and shuffle the papers off of it, climbing on after you and setting his head in your chest. You run your fingers through his hair and hum, trying to your best to make him feel calm and prevent another breakdown.

But your efforts are futile, within the hours that Draco had been alone he’d thought every terrible thought that he possibly could, Al-Shaitan had already tormented your husband through a series of painful misconceptions. Draco had never really subscribed to religion or faith but after the war he’d identified quite quickly with the concept of the Devil- confessing that he believed he had an evil conspirator sitting on his shoulder- and felt that his own soul deserved to be damned. You’d tried to rid him of that notion, many times, but it never worked, he was in too deep.

You tense up when you feel a cry escape his lips and his fingers tighten into the space of your torso. “I’m sorry.”

He feels terrible, terrible for ruining all of your hard work. All the effort you’d put into rebuilding him now disintegrating in the blink of an eye. But you’re here now, you’re going to fix him again, he knows it.

You try to level your breathing so that you don’t cry too, so that you don’t fall into this pit of despair with him, because Merlin knows that any pain Draco feels takes as rough a toll on you. You pull him off of you and sit up, bringing him to sit as well, so that you can look him in the eyes.

“Sorry for what Bub?”

“For being broken. I-“ He feels another sob rock through him and you pull him into your chest. “Please fix me Y/N.” He pleads, a whimper following suit.

His fingers are digging into you again, he’s clinging so tightly to you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t stay close enough, and it hurts you to know that even after all these years he’s scared that you’ll leave.

“You’re not broken Draco, there’s nothing to fix.”

“But I’m- I’m-“  Cries start to escape rapidly and interrupt him. He can’t see clearly anymore as tears form in his waterline and obstruct his view of you. It hurts, everything just hurts.

“You’re not broken, my love.” You whisper as you cup his face, “You’re not evil, you’re not bad. You’re good. You’re my husband, I love you. Did you open the box?”

He shakes his head, “Couldn’t find it.”

“Okay, let me get i-“ You’re cut off by your bedroom door opening and your children marching in.

“Dad, you’ll never guess what happened at school today- Oh, is this a bad time?” Ariel, your daughter, stops in her tracks as she raises her eyebrows at you.

You shake your head and gesture for them to come in. “I think it just got a little much for him this year. Please get me the box, love.”

Ariel goes to the headboard and pulls out the aforementioned box from the first drawer, before her and Cael, your son, get comfortable on the bed beside you and Draco. But Draco doesn’t need it anymore, he can already sense himself coming back down to earth. He knows where he is- with you, in your house, with your children, in your bed. He’s home, he’s safe.

He takes the box anyway and begins to unload its contents in silence, the three of you observing him with admiration. It’s a small circular box that your children made a few years back after witnessing one of his episodes for the first time, containing momentos from the last 18 years of you and Draco’s lives together. Pictures, notes, a few school projects.

“Tell him about what happened at school today, it’ll probably make him laugh.” Cael encourages his older sister Ariel, and she does as told.

Draco pays a significant amount of attention to the story, piecing together facts that he’s slowly starting to understand and recognize as a part of his normal life. He intertwines his fingers with Cael’s as Ariel continues telling the story from her spot on your lap.

Love.

So much love that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Bursts of it just choking him out.

Draco remembers everything now. He remembers this house of yours, the one he’d bought straight out of Hogwarts and begged you to live in with him because “It’s nothing without you in it”. These children that you’d had 14 years ago, that’d he’d been so scared to raise because he thought they’d resent him, and that made everything in the world just seem brighter. This life that he modeled with you on the embers of his haunting past, this life that reminds him he’s good.

Before you, he would’ve been terrified to show any one his vulnerable side, especially his children, but you’d taught him that loving someone means loving all the good bits and the bad bits, all the happy moments and the sad moments. Now he knows that when days like this happen, when he gets so lost inside the mental maze of his own construction, the three of you will always be waiting to help him out.

Ariel finishes her story and Draco bellows out a laugh, feeling thankful to have you three around in his moments of weakness.

His three guardian angels- the only people who can always lead him away from the shadow in his mind and toward the luminescence that he carries within him. “All the good within us is split in the middle, half from you and half from mum, just as it should be. I hope you remember that we wouldn’t be who we are without you both.” Cael suddenly speaks up and you smile pridefully at him.

“They wouldn’t.” You add once he’s done and smile, “I couldn’t have done such a bad job without you.”

“Hey!” Ariel accuses and you all laugh.

“She’s right though, I am the one who taught you hexes at age 7.” Draco grins bashfully and you roll your eyes.

“And look at us now, acing Charms!”

“See love,” Draco turns to you, “There is a method to my madness.”

“Mhmm.” You hum with a small smile. “Go do your homework, dinner soon.”

“Yes, I’m making pizza tonight.” Draco adds as he kisses both of your children on their foreheads.

They excitedly hop off the bed and run out of the room. “I can’t belie-“

“Harry called.” Draco interrupts you and your eyes go wide at his statement but you nod for him to continue, “He wanted to know how I was doing, you know with it having been 18 years since the war and all. Offered to come spend the day with me and make sure I’d be alright while you were gone.”

“And you said no?” You raise your eyebrows and he shakes his head.

“No, I told him that I’d come by his office instead. Then when I was getting ready… I just started having flashbacks again, and my mark hurt. I felt horrible all of a sudden, like there was huge weight on my chest and this fog obscuring my vision.”

There are few things that Draco has faith in, but you, you he never runs short on trust for. You’re a constant in his life, a shoulder that he can always rely on when he needs it, and as he sits here and tells you about his day, he feels love for you hit him tenfold.

You, this beautiful, kind, ethereal being that has no place on earth. You, the one who’s managed to convince him that saints are real. You, who has given him your entire life, along with all the love that you have to offer. You, Y/N, the love of his life.

You.

An angel.

~~~

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[nightferns]

How c!Ranboo's attitude towards c!Wilbur lines up with everything he's been told | a quote list

All /rp of course

So on Tubbo's last lore stream (my new purpose) Ranboo said this:

"-thats why im here so when he does something that does redeem himself then someone can be there that will be able to see it and everything, and honestly i'd rather have it be me the person, rather have the person that be there be me instead of maybe someone else[...]"

And then this, when asked why he didn't tell Wilbur about marriage:

"[...]From what i've heard from Tommy and everything the Wilbur that 13 years ago- at least might've- he used stuff against Tommy and everything so just in case- "

And it made me wonder what exactly lead him to that opinion so i spent a day ghathering quotes in which Ranboo heard/or was told something about Wilbur, before the revival. Its a bit of a long one so strap in.

Convos about Alivebur that Ranboo either listened to or was a part of, pre-meeting him.

Vod: Tubbo and Tommyinnit Start To Break Apart…

TommyVods

Tommy [talking about Techno]: -Wilbur died in action, so he doesn't- so he didn't live long enough to face the consequences, but that guy he is a fucking bitch.

Ranboo: So he was fighting with you and then he decided to go against you.

Tommy: yeah. He decided that the last minute "Hey! Hey what im gonna do is fuck everyone over."

Ranboo: Oh… so he was sort of a vigilante of sorts? His own-

 [...]

Tommy: sit down [on the bench]…  fuck. I just want back the discs, that's all- thats all I've wanted everytime im sat on this bench, that's all we've wanted.

Ranboo: Yeah, I can tell... You seem pretty adamant about those.

Tommy: Yeah! It's because-! Literally bro- since the- four months! [...] four months ago is when I first started trying to get these discs! And it was just me, Tubbo- there was no Technoblade on this server! There were like 6 people- and it was just me and tub- there was no nation there was no- it's always been about getting back the shit dream stole from this very chest!

So now Tubbo's gotten this position of power and is doing it- it's dis- it's disappointing.

B-but thank you, for sticking up for me, no one did that, you saw big Q fucking turning on me- you saw Fundy- they're-  they're just sheep bro, they're just sheep. Thank you

Ranboo: Well, you stuck up for me when you could've easily pinned it on me. You could've just said "oh, he was the one that did it", because- i mean, my name was being said in there too, but then you just decided to take all of it and now we're in this situation.

So I couldn't just let that happen, I couldn't stand by, have Tubbo call you selfish when you did something- the opposite.

Tommy: Thank you-

If they evict me through- that is it he-

Ranboo: yeah.

Tommy: -dude, you know i'm worried- i- i don't want to, i know there's that one line that we- that rings through my head as i sleep l of Wilbur going "Tommy, let's be the bad guys." But I wanna- i don't wanna be the bad guys. I just want-

Ranboo: I don't think that's- that's not a good thing to do.

Tommy: The reason- do I say this now? Yeah-  The reason I didn't make Tubbo the leader, when I had- and I could've chose anyone, and I chose Wilbur, the man who was already half-insane but I knew he was coming back around, and I didn't choose Tubbo.

Is because i knew that if tubbo was the president,

it would pull us apart Ranboo, and look at him he's picking his nation over me. And i- and if he does on Friday I don't know what I'm gonna do with myself.

Ranboo: No matter what happens on friday i'll help you. I'll-I'll figure it out- I'll try to talk to Tubbo, i'll try to see if something better can happen.

.

Vod: *Archive* Mar 6, 2021

Philza

Phil: [places down a picture of Wilbur] my son.

Ranboo: Oh. There he is.

Phil: I wanna put his picture in the-in the meeting room, cruz i want to be reminded, i miss him, it's lik- he's been gone a long time.

Ranboo: He has. He really has. He's been gone, before I even came here.

Phil: He did some dumb shit y'know. And my hand was forced, in a sense, but I miss him everyday, I do miss him.

Ranboo: Oh, yeah i heard about that

Phil: I do wish he'd come back.

Ranboo: Yeah, Well… well I mean, wasn't he a ghost for a little bit?

Phil: Yeah, but that wasn't really him-

Ranboo: Oh.

Phil: That was- That was like the pure kind of innocent version of him if that was to exist I think, he was very kind of uhm- it was just not him though, it was just not him. So it was kind of like talking to a doll of like- someone.

Ranboo: I mean- I mean it's the most you're able to get at least. Like-

Phil: Yeah…

[...]

Phil: -sad, miss child, miss, maybe i shouldn't have stabbed him but you know.

Ranboo: Yeah, well i mean- yeah.

Phil: I Bet if- i bet if- if i was to talk to him again he' would- he would probably forgive me, he- he definitely was at the end of his rope and i dunno maybe he'd think of it differently.

Ranboo: I mean, it was his wishes, I mean he wouldn't- it was his wishes, it wasn't- like- he wouldn't- he wouldn't not forgive you for following what he asked you to do.

Phil: Yeah. I dunno.

Ranboo: But- one day hopefully-

Phil: Can't help but think if i did the right thing or not sometimes.

Ranboo: I mean, when you think about what he would have done if you hadn't, you know?

Phil: Yeah, he was out of control.

Ranboo: Like if you- if you hadn't like- would anything- would anything have changed?

Phil: I dunno, I kinda showed up at the most chaotic time possible and yeah it was just- didn't really have a lot of time to process things. It was like "Hey I should probably stop him from blowing up this place" that I had no real knowledge of other than that he helped build it. That's all I heard. I got- i got like letters from him just like telling me what he'd been up to and stuff, and that he was having fun with this friends and then the letters stopped, and i got worried so i started to like- 

Ranboo: mhm.

Phil: -make my way over to this area.

Ranboo: Yeah.

Phil: And I was right to worry, apparently.

Ranboo: I mean, I don't know, I think- I mean, I think there's really- there's really nothing you can do about it now, you know? There's- it's really like- you can- you can try and get closure but I mean, the ghost- Ghostbur is missing in action and he has been for a little while, and...

Phil: Yeah, whenever I talked to Ghostbur I didn't really feel like I was talking to him though, like it wasnt really- It was him but it wasn't him, like-

Ranboo: Yeah.

Phil: It's hard to explain.

Ranboo, I mean you just- i- i think you did the right thing even though its not- it wasn't the optimal thing, you know? I mean, was it the best solution? Probably not, but it was still a solution so.. I'd say you still did a good thing even though in your eyes it's probably not good, but what else were you gonna- what else were we gonna do?

Phil: Yeah, true.

Ranboo: yeah.

.

Vod: Tommy's Plan to Kill Dream

TommyVods

Tommy: Tubbo, I died. I spoke to Schlatt, I spoke to Wilbur, Wilbur Soot, alright?

Tubbo: Has Schlatt changed his ways? Or is he still smoking and drinking-

Tommy: Tubbo, they've been in there for so long, and so many years, alright?

Tubbo: Years? They've only died months ago-

Tommy: Tubbo, I was in that prison for about… month and five days, alright. Time in death though? I was here for months and months and months! Time's different when you d- Don't tell anyone this- Time's different when you die.

Tubbo: So you're older, now curz-

Tommy: I don't, I don't know! [...]

.

Tommy: -But Listen to me! I've seen everything! I know so much more than you now, I've been with the dead and I know so much more! So much more I'm not willing to explain. But listen to me we need to kill him, before it's too late-

[...]

.

Tubbo: Why is it different now? Why are we killing him- why didn't we just kill him to begin with, when we had the chance? Why did you put it off?

Tommy: Because Tubbo i thought he would use the revive book for go- ok, this is what he said to me he said he will only use the revivebook to revive Wilbur, and he said that that when he gets out out of the he's gonna hurt, not just you, but everyone i care for, he's gonna hurt everyone. So please we need to kill him.

[...]

Tubbo: So why don't you want him to bring Wilbur back now? What suddenly changed? 

Tommy: I've spent months in the death area- well- let's call it the death zone, with Wilbur, right.

Tubbo: the death zone? Like limbo-

Tommy: I've spent months there, I've spent months and months and months there and I was only there for a few days, Wilbur's been there for real months, he is so different and he is powerful and you know how he molds me like a piece of clay Tubbo. I don't want him to come back, we can't let him come back, and Dream said to me that he'll revive Wilbur.[...]

.

Tommy: No, i spoke to you, not Ghostbur, i spoke to you

Ghostbur: But i am Ghostbur

Tommy: I spoke to Wilbur,

Ghostbur: You don't wanna talk to him.

Tommy: I know, I never wanna talk to him again.

Ghostbur: He's not very nice, he's not a nice guy.

Tommy: Acu- Ghostbur i've got a question for you, do you want him to come back?

Because i- i don't, i don't think i do ever ever.

Ghostbur: He's a- i- uhm.. t-the world needs- needs structure and order and he he's good at that, he did that but- i-

Tommy: No, the world needs less villains, and he was a villain if I've ever seen one.

Ghostbur: But a villain is just a- sometimes the line's a little blurry, you could say, a little blurry it's a tiny bit, it's like a villain- a villain is just a hero you haven't convinced yet.

Tubbo: I'm not sure I follow you.

Tommy: No, but he started as hero, he started as a hero and then he was the villain.

Ghostbur: Well-

Tommy: I don't think we should bring him back ever. 

Ghostbur: Oh…

Tommy: I think you should-  you like being a ghost don't you? Hey! Look bl- Red! You can stand on the red! [...]

.

Ghostbur: Yeah,i- i- i like it here but  we were talking about this and i thought we wanted to bring back Wilbur, because he understood-

Tommy: No-

Ghostbur: -because, because L'manburg got blown up-

Tommy: No! No no no no, We don't want to bring back Wilbur, i've spent months with Wilbur, wh-when you die times different Ghostbur, i know i can speak to you 'cause you don- you keep secrets, times different, alright? i've spent so long with Wilbur,

Ghostbur: How- how long?

Tommy: Months and months and months alright? And if i was here for months, he's been there for years, possibly decades, he can't come back.

This isnt a-

Ghostbur: How- how- so what's the corversion? What's the- how long-

 Tommy: What's the conversion rate?-

Ghostbur: yeah, what's the-

Tommy: -God, you sound like a fuckin' bitcoin miner.

Ghostbur: -If time's different in the- in the- in the dead land then what's the- what do you call it? Limbo- if time is different in limbo then what's- what's- what's the difference?

Tommy: I don't really know. But I was there, apparently, I was dead, according to the Dream but he does lie, I was dead for- for 3 days. And i was there for-

Ghostbur: And how long, how long was that in months?

Tommy: I don't know, i can- i can say  months and months, i- i'd- i'd say between three to seven?

Ghostbur: Okey.

Tommy: So the middle, four point five.

Ghostbur: -So Wilbur's been dead for ten to twelve years.

Tommy: And there's a lot to learn when you're dead, innit?

Ghostbur: What did you learn? I've just forgotten things.

Tommy: Oh I learned about bad shit.

Ghostbur: Yeah?

Tommy: Do you know what Wilbur did? He very slowly and excruciatingly, over an entire month, explained to me what hemorrhoids was and it hurt me so much.

And then he'd go on about all the books he has been reading. It was terrible, it was the wor-

Tubbo: Did you see each other? Or were you just-

Tommy: Oh, Don't make me talk about it! Don't make me talk about it! Oh, it was- it was the worst!

.

Ghostbur: Tommy why didn't you want Wilbur back?

Tommy: Well… I spent a long long time speaking to Wilbur in- when I was dead. And i- and when I wanted to bring him back I thought he- I thought there was still some brotherness there, I thought maybe he's still my pal. And I found out he's not- he's only grown worse.

Ghostbur: He spent a lot of time around a bad guy, he spent, like a decade you said, around- around Schlatt and Schlatt's the bad- Schlatt's the bad guy right?

Tommy: I don't think Schlatt's the only bad guy.

Ghostbur: He's a bad guy right? Him and Eret are the bad guys right? That's the- that's the-

Tubbo: Yes, more or less.

Ghostbur: That's what you told me.

Ranboo: And Dream of course.

Tommy: There's a lot more bad guys.

[...]

.

Vod: Ranboo prepares with tommyinnit to take down dream on the dream smp full stream (VOD)

Ranboo Vods

Ranboo: [About Dream] He's trapped in there and we thought he was powerless but even in there he still has power that's why we're killing him actually. Its because-

Ghostbur: What's the worst he could do with the power?

Ranboo: He could bring back the people that are- well, technically the villains in this story, and then get out. And then start to do what he did before he got into prison, just again, and probably worse honestly!

Ghostbur: He's gonna bring back Schlatt?

Ranboo: He can bring back anyone that's died.

[...]

Ghostbur: Also- um, so are we- are we not bringing back Wilbur anymore? Is that… off the table? 'Cause Phil and Technoblade and- and- and people are still keen- and Eret is keen to bring back Wilbur. And i- i'm- Ranboo i gotta tell you i'm really scared. I- i'm not scared of Wilbur i think.

Ranboo: Yeah.

Ghostbur: I'm scared of going back to.. nothing. I- I'll be gone again. I dont- I- i kinda like being here and i like all my friends and i don't...

Ranboo: Yeah. See it's different with me because I never knew Wilbur, i never met Wilbur. I've only met, well you… so...

Ghostbur: I- I think im pretty- I like to think im pretty neat.

Ranboo: Yeah i think you're pretty neat too. I don't- i don't think-

Ghostbur: Yus!

Ranboo: I mean, Honestly i'd- i never knew Wilbur, i never met him but I mean,  what i've been told, he seemed like he had good intentions and- and i mean, i think that's kinda what you are, you are his good intentions.

Ghostbur: In a pint sized glass.

Ranboo: yeah.

Ghostbur: in a little package, little package.

Ranboo: yeah!

Ghostbur: I've read his memoirs Ranboo, i've read- they are all gone now they were blown up when my library was destroyed, so many really important pieces of history were blown up when that library was destroyed.

Ranboo: Definitely yeah.

Ghostbur: But I have- i read his memoirs and he- he was- he was pretty ok! Most of the time, he seemed like he was- people liked him but then- then- then he lost this election and- and- and you know the story, everyone knows the story. 

Ranboo: yeah, yeah.

Ghostbur: But i just- i- from seeing how much everything went down and how Tubbo was- was really badly you know? Scared with- by- by- you know? the explosion and things which- thinking about it that's- maybe was Technoblade's fault and Phil's fault, but um, because of all this now more than ever it's really important that we have a leader and that's why i was on the side on bringing him back

and if- if things have changed, if you tell me i'll go along with whatever you say if- if you think Ghostbur sticks around, i'll stick around but if you think Wilbur- Wilbur sticks around i'll- i'll do whatever it takes to help you! I just- I just wanna help! I just wanna help Ranboo!

Ranboo: yeah, im-

Ghostbur: -And i can see it in you that you know what's best.

Ranboo: The thing is i- i really don't. i mean, Ha- Wilbur... he seemed good, when you read anyone's memoirs it helps them… kinda rationalize the way that they think so- i honestly don't know, because-

Ghostbur: History is written by the winners.

Ranboo: Yeah and he, he technically won, I mean he did what he wanted to.

Ghostbur: but then he lost and everyone hates him.

Ranboo: I don't- i don't think everyone hates him. I don't really hate him. I mean, it's like hearing about a historical figure. I mean he did good things yeah, but he also did bad things so. I- i'm indifferent as i am with a lot of things.

Ghostbur: I'm sure- i'm sure that you'll figure it out

[...]

.

Ranboo: I haven't even heard of Wilbur honestly, i- i've barely heard of Wilbur, i mean, Tubbo really has not told me much about Wilbur other than i mean, he's the one who blew up Manburg the first time. 

But i like Ghostbur i mean, i like- i like Ghostbur i'd say a lot more, because Ghostbur seems nice, i don't think that anything is going wrong right now, i mean if we- if we kill dream then… then uh- ' cause we don't need a leader. 

I really don't know... I really don't know, I don't think we need a leader, because if- if someone rules everyone then- i mean if the leader becomes corrupted, when the leader becomes corrupted then we see what happens. We- we see what happens when someone who leads becomes corrupted, heck i'm a part of an anarchist organization So… I really just don't know what to do.

Because I mean, Tommy doesn't want Wilbur back.

I don't think anyone wants Wilbur back, so why is it even a question?

All I do know is that we definitely have to kill Dream, right? We definitely have to kill Dream. I mean, we gotta- we gotta kill Dream.

I mean, i don't even know if anyone wants him back, i mean, the only person that i would think would be Phil, right? The only person that I'd think would be Phil, so… but Phil's ok now, he's doing alright, shure he's sad now, but I think he'll be good, yeah I think we'll be able to kill Dream and everything will be good!

I mean, if we kill Dream, Wilbur isn't coming back, we won't have to worry about much- we'll still have to worry about things but not on the scale Dream was doing right? Right? [...]

[...] So if everyone's ok without him, I mean, everyone's ok already… right? Everyone's- Everyone's good, I mean, I like Ghostbur, I think that Ghostbur is awesome. I don't know-[...]

.

Ranboo: Oh my goodness. Yeah see, i like Ghostbur a lot more, i like Ghostbur a lot more.

.

Vod: Wilbur's Revival Dream SMP

TommyVods

Tommy: No you don't understand, It's not that he's dead it's that Wilbur's back.

Tubbo: What?

Ranboo: What do you mean Wilbur's back? No, you mean Like- Wilbur? Like-

Tommy: Let's go-

Ranboo: "Press button and blow up" Wilbur, that one?

.

Tommy: No, no ok, listen to me, Did you think I liked Wilbur? Is that what you think this is about Ranboo? Why are you being so unempathetic?

Ranboo: I don't know what you mean! Like-

Tommy: Wilbur is back, Ranboo! Ghostbur is dead!

Ranboo: Yeah-

Tommy: No, no there's only one way to know.

Ranboo: What do you mean? Like- like THE Wilbur? The one that- like your friend?

Tommy: We are not fucking friends, Ranboo.

Ranboo: Wilbur wasn't-? I mean, I knew he did some bad stuff but I thought he was at least kind of your friend. 

Tommy: No, Wilbur was nothing.

Ever since i died Ranboo, we- i spent so long with Wilbur-

Ranboo: Yeah?

Tommy: -and i thought he changed, every time i thought he changed, but Ranboo he never changes, Wilbur never changes… and now he's back.

.

Ranboo: May- Maybe- Maybe he's different you know? I mean, he's been spending a lot of time in the afterlife-

Tubbo: Yeah, he's been dead for a while,

Ranboo: -he probably might be different, you know?

Tommy: He's not different Ranboo, i've been there Ranboo, and he's so much fucking worse. When we go up to him, you two just stand back-[...]

.

[angelikook]

How to Find Your Soulmate

Pairing(s): Non-idol!Namjoon x reader

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff, teensy bit of angst

Word Count: 10.2k

Warning(s): None

Summary: Where a journey to find his soulmate took a different turn.

A/n I wrote this as a spur in the moment thing, but it surprisingly came out really well.

The familiar sound of keys jiggling from his front door was a sure sign that he was about to lose whatever amount of peacefulness in his tiny apartment. As he braced himself for what was about to come, the door swung open and came in the person he had been waiting for.

Y/n was her name. Peculiar, wild, and random. Her hair basically could represent her entire personality. Unruly, messy, and out of control. She'd been a loner for most of her lifetime. Definitely a big believer in “I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need no man”.

It also came as a surprise to Namjoon when he couldn’t help but to be attached to her a long time ago when they were kids. And ever since that, he had gained a new best friend. Or more like the best friend since he didn’t have that many best friends to begin with.

“Joon, let’s go! We have things to do.” Y/n grabbed on his arm and tried to pull him up from his slouched position on his couch. The couch that became worn out so quickly for its rather frequent use whenever he was stressed.

In his defense, it wasn’t his fault that the couch was so comfy.

Failing to pull him up, Y/n groaned in frustration. “Come on! There’s a bazaar downtown that I wanna check. Can’t have me go alone at this time, right?”

“I don’t wanna get up. Let’s just watch Netflix,” he said as he turned on the TV.

Y/n snatched the remote from his hand and turned the TV back off. “Nope. Let’s go. Tomorrow is Saturday anyways, you can watch the TV all you want.”

Namjoon sighed. “What do I get for this?”

Y/n grinned and cupped her cheeks. “You get to spend time with me.”

“Ugh, I don’t want that,” he teased as he pulled himself up from the couch. “I'm tired of seeing your face.”

“You, mister.” She jabbed her finger at him. “Owe me a boba tea, remember? Now is the perfect time to redeem yourself.”

“Remind me not to wake you up again on Sunday mornings.” He shuddered at the memory of seeing bed headed Y/n screaming on top of her lungs, telling him not to wake her up from her beauty sleep or whatever.

“Are you seriously wearing that, though?” he asked as he eyed Y/n’s outfit.

She still wore the same outfit that she had worn since this morning. There was a noticeable coffee stain on her left cufflinks, indicating she probably had bumped her mug with her hand by accident. Her skirt was already crinkled especially on the bottom part. Disclaimer, he totally did not just check her out. Her heels made her feet red and look swollen. They clearly cut off her circulation, but somehow she insisted on wearing them anyways, claiming that she felt sexy and smart and beautiful in them.

“They look uncomfortable,” Namjoon had commented one day after noticing how her heels made Y/n walk weirdly. “Why don’t you just wear sneakers?”

Y/n scoffed, as if what he had said was ridiculous. “Real women don't wear sneakers to work, Joon.”

“Whatever you say, Y/n.” Namjoon had tried hard to stop the urge of rolling his eyes.

Ever since that, he didn’t even want to talk about her heels. “Let her suffer if she wanted that,” he always reminded himself.

Y/n walked to his full-length mirror inside his room and stared at herself. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Just change into more comfortable clothes,” Namjoon said from the living room. “You’d look out of place."

With that, Y/n closed the bedroom door behind her and grumbled. “This is perfectly fine. People do go out after work to a bazaar.”

She actually said more than that. Way more. But at this point, he didn’t even bother to listen to her. It wasn’t like this was his first time ignoring her blabbers. And he was pretty sure she was used to it, too.

Minutes later, Y/n came out to the living room wearing Namjoon’s hoodie and sweatpants. She even managed to find a pair of his sandals that he thought was gone. Sure her outfit now swallowed her, but at least it was more comfortable.

“Alright, let’s go!” was the last thing she said before they left his apartment.

A boba tea and a corn dog later, Namjoon and Y/n were walking aimlessly. They were just following the direction other people were taking, not really sure themselves where they would end up.

“Aren’t you glad I forced you out of that stuffy apartment?”

“Nope. I still rather be on my couch.”

Y/n frowned. “What?” She gestured to their surroundings. “This is so much better.” She saw a small bench and sat on it, gesturing to him to sit beside her. “I think you need to take a breather and just relax, my dude. Whatever problems you have at work, they don’t exist for now.”

“It’s easy for you to say that.”

Y/n slurped hard on her drink, trying to get as many bobas as possible into her mouth. “You-”. Chew. “-think too much-”. Chew. “-of things you can’t-”. Chew. “-control.”

“Okay, finish your drink first. That’s disgusting.”

Y/n laughed while trying to stop her bobas from coming out of her mouth. After succeeding to suppress her laughter, she chewed on the bobas thoroughly before swallowing them.

“You’re an overthinker who misses on great things in life just because you’re too caught up in your problems. And when you realize you missed those things, it’ll be all too late.” Y/n then continued finishing her drink in silence while he was registering what she just said.

He was so focused on his thoughts to the point he didn’t even realize when Y/n had left him to find a trash can. He was only drawn back to reality when Y/n came to him running and yelling his name in excitement.

Y/n spoke in rapid speed to the point she sounded like speaking gibberish. The only thing he heard was “fortune teller” before Y/n yanked on his hand and dragged him to a small kiosk.

The kiosk was mostly empty. No customers were surrounding it unlike other kiosks. But it wasn’t what set it apart from the others. It was the big letters in front of it that read “fortune teller” in big bold text. Inside, there was only one woman sitting, unmoving, seemingly reading something, a book maybe.

Aware of his and Y/n’s presence, the fortune teller looked up from the book and smiled at them both. Unlike what the media portrayed fortune tellers were, that they were scary and mysterious, her smile was warm and friendly.

“Is there something I can do?” The fortune teller closed the book and stood up.

“Yes!” Y/n replied. “My friend here-” She gestured to Namjoon “-wants to know his future.” After a few seconds of pause, she added, “And about his soulmate too, please.”

Before he could respond, the fortune teller beat him to it. “Very well.” The fortune teller cracked her knuckles before staring deep into his eyes. Her gaze somehow made him feel naked, vulnerable.

They hold their gaze for a while. As seconds became minutes, he felt breathless, and hot. The gaze that at first was soft but strong, became sharper and almost felt painful. But not long after, the fortune teller focused back at Y/n who stood still beside him, gawking at her. He could finally let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“From what I can tell, your friend is on the right track. He’s doing well, but he won’t be if he can’t appreciate the simple things in life,” the fortune teller explained. “As for his soulmate, he already knows who they are, he even knows where they are. The only thing left for him to do is just to figure it out within himself.”

The thing was, he didn’t believe in fortune tellers, astrology, and whatnot. He never even cared about things like that. But seeing Y/n’s grin and the glint in her eyes as she thanked the fortune teller and gave her a tip, he didn’t say anything against it. As much as Y/n called him boring, he wasn’t the type to burst people’s bubble of happiness.

Throughout the walk to Y/n’s apartment, she kept talking about what the fortune teller had said.

“Gosh, I can’t believe you know who your soulmate is.” Y/n lightly punched on his arm. “You never tell me anything.”

Namjoon shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? I don’t know who my soulmate is either. I apparently need to figure it out myself.”

“I know what we can do!”

This sounded like he was about to be in for a bad time. “What?”

“Let’s go do something different! Maybe you'll find your revelation or whatever.”

He really wanted to scoff. “How does that even work?”

“Don’t know. But it's worth a try. Do you want to figure out who your soulmate is or not?”

Of course he did. “Of course I do. What kind of question... ”

Y/n clapped her hands together. “Good! Tomorrow I’ll pick you up. Get ready for a week full of surprises.”

“Wait what? I never signed up for this.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “You did sign up. You said you want to find your soulmate.”

“But not tomorrow!” he raised his voice in frustration. “We have work on Monday.”

“Just call your boss that you’ll be gone for a week.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Dude, bro, my guy, you need to live in the moment. Plus, you haven’t taken a leave in years. Years, Namjoon.”

He inhaled long and hard before exhaling it slowly. His best friend seriously was going to be the death of him.

“Please.” Y/n looked up at him. He suddenly became aware of the massive height difference they had.

It wasn't that Y/n was short. She said it herself that she was the average height although he didn’t really believe that. She just looked so tiny compared to him. But, on the other side, Namjoon was quite tall for a guy around his age.

He groaned. “Ugh, not the puppy eyes. Seriously.”

“Does that mean I win?” There was a soft gleam of hope in her eyes.

Namjoon was a strong man. At least, that was what everyone who knew him had said about him. So it was weird for the always composed and well mannered man to have a weakness. And to have that weakness took in the form of his childhood best friend was even weirder. What in his best friend that didn’t exist in literally anything that could melt his heart like no other? Puppies and kittens could never even compare. His cute bonsais, too, couldn’t even compare.

He might never find the answer to that. Heck maybe he found out about his soulmate before he could answer that. He could only shook his head in disbelief as Y/n put her bunny headband on his hair.

It was Saturday at 8 a.m, the morning after the fortune teller incident. Y/n simply invited herself into his apartment while he was still in the shower. It was one of the things he regretted after giving her the keys to his apartment. It was meant to be used during emergencies, not for her getting all cozy here and thinking this was her place.

He was walking out of the bedroom, fully dressed and ready for the day, when he heard a sizzling sound coming from the kitchen. He stepped closer to the kitchen and as it came into view, he saw Y/n cooking with her back facing him.

He thought he was being quiet, but apparently not because Y/n turned around and greeted him with a beaming smile.

"Morning! I'm making you some omelette and there's coffee on the table." She pointed at the mug on the table with smoke still puffing out of it. "Exactly two teaspoons as you like it." Then she continued cooking as if nothing had happened.

He was speechless as he looked at the mess in his kitchen. Egg shells on the floor, ketchup smeared all over the kitchen counter, and some puddles on the floor could be seen. It was as if a tornado just came.

“What is all this?” he asked when he finally found his voice.

Y/n carefully plated the omelette before proudly putting the plate beside the coffee. “This is what I call breakfast. Bet you usually only drink coffee in the morning.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Look at the kitchen, Y/n! Who’s gonna clean up after this?”

Y/n took a look around the kitchen with a readable and all too familiar facial expression.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Namjoon said as he took a seat. “And to that, I say, I don’t want to clean up your mess. You clean it up.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine, geez. A thank you would be nice.”

“You not making a mess would be appreciated.”

“Touché."

Usually when he had coffee in the morning, he felt that adrenaline rush. The kind that made you feel giddy, restless, and even made you tremble. This time, thanks to Y/n's cooking, he didn’t feel any of those. He was tempted to tell Y/n about this, but in the end, he just kept it to himself. He didn’t want to fuel her ego. It wasn’t a very good idea to do that so early into this “Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate” or whatever Y/n had called it last night.

Even if he told him all those things, chances were she wasn’t going to listen to him as she was busy admiring her work on his hair. The bunny headband finally put on properly and held his hair away from his face.

“Have you ever put on a face mask before?” Y/n handed him a face mask.

“Umm, no.”

“Let me put it on you.” She smiled as she took back the face mask from his hand.

Within seconds, her trained hands successfully put the face mask on his face. And not long after, her face was also wearing one.

“We’re matching!” Y/n grinned at him. “Let’s take a selfie,” she said as she pulled out her phone.

He wasn’t big on selfies, he didn’t even remember the last time he took one. But seeing the huge smile on his best friend’s face was enough for him to reluctantly agree.

He forced a smile at the camera. He realized it looked awkward as Y/n shoved their photo in front of his face to show him the result. It looked even more ridiculous with the bunny headband on top of his head. However, the girl looked like she didn’t mind as she kept babbling on about how this was their first selfie in years and she wanted to upload it so bad.

“-will ask me about you. And what’s going to happen to me when you date one of them?”

A silence followed her ramblings until he realized she just asked him a question.

He cleared his throat. “First of all, just because I’m dating, doesn’t mean you can’t still be my best friend. Second of all, isn’t the purpose of this… adventure is to find my soulmate?”

Y/n eyes widened in realization. “You’re right! I’m gonna post it then.” As she was about to hit the post button on her phone, she looked at him. “Wait. What should I caption it?”

20 minutes later, when the once cold mask was no longer cold and it started to dry a bit, Y/n carefully peeled the mask from both their faces.

“What do you feel?” Y/n asked expectantly.

Namjoon didn’t even know how to answer that. Truth to be told, these skin care products never really made an impactful difference on his skin, hence the reason he didn’t have a skin care routine. The most he ever did was just wash his face with a face wash and even that was a leftover he found in his sister’s old room a few weeks after she left for uni. A side note, don’t even ask him why he was in her room, he wouldn’t answer it truthfully. His parents would probably say that he missed her, but he knew it wasn’t true… right?

The lack of response from him was enough for Y/n to catch on what he was feeling.

“You don’t feel anything, huh?”

“Wetness on my face.” His answer sounded more like a question.

“You’re unbelievable. Well, since today is just the first day, I’ll let it go. But, the correct answer to that is refreshed, Joon,” Y/n explained in exasperation as she scratched her head.

“What does that have to do with finding my soulmate?”

“You might find out your soulmate faster if you’re not stressed,” Y/n said as a matter-of-factly.

He sighed. “You know what, I don’t even bother to argue with you.”

“Cause you know I’m right.”

That night when he was about to fall asleep, when he was only half-aware of his surroundings, the memory of today’s activity played in his mind. The messy kitchen as his best friend attempted to make him breakfast. Her proud smile as she served his food. The focused look on her face when he was putting on her headband and the face mask on him. And lastly, the tired smile she offered him as she said goodbye when the day ended after they binge watched on Netflix. For the first time in years, he fell asleep with a smile plastered on his face.

The next morning on Sunday, he woke up much earlier than usual. He even woke up feeling energized. He could even feel anticipation bubbling inside of him. The last time he felt like this was when he was around 9 and his parents gave him tickets to Disneyland as a birthday gift. Simply put, he felt like a kid again, waiting for great things that were about to happen today.

As he smiled at the memories of his childhood, he couldn’t help but realize that maybe Y/n was right all along. She always nagged on him because all he did was to mope around on his old couch and get drunk when things got too hard.

“Live in the moment, dude,” she had said multiple times. “You worry too much like an old man who fears the end of the world.”

What a great metaphor, Y/n.

Just like the day before, Y/n entered his apartment without notice. But this time, instead of being in the shower, he was already dressed and waiting for her. He could feel his heart beat get faster when he heard the door being opened.

Y/n widened her eyes in surprise before she smirked. “I like the energy. Let’s just go, then!”

For the second activity in The Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate, Y/n took him to an…

“Animal shelter?” Namjoon asked in disbelief.

Y/n nodded. “I want to see cute animals.”

“We can just go to the zoo.”

“It’s expensive. And they don't really care about animals."

Ever since the start of their friendship, he could never win against her wittiness. So this wasn’t really a rare occurrence where she said an argument so wrong yet so right.

“But a zoo is intended for exactly that purpose. Rather than you playing with those sheltered animals but not adopting one of them in the end,” Namjoon explained.

“Oh, shush. Stop being a party-” Y/n’s eyes suddenly caught a puppy running towards her. “Oh my God, come here, baby!” she yelled as she scooped the puppy up in her arms.

For a few minutes, it was just Y/n cooing at the puppy and he was just eyeing her in amusement. He knew that she would go mushy and all excited around animals, so he couldn’t really blame her for seemingly forgetting about him. Plus, he didn’t want to miss out on seeing Y/n using baby voices to talk to the animals.

His amusement was interrupted when Y/n abruptly shoved the puppy towards him.

“Wha-? I don’t-”

“Just take it. We’re here for you, not me.”

Namjoon sighed in defeat as he accepted the puppy into his arms. Its tail wagging so fast, going for miles per second, to the point he could feel its body shaking from the impact. Its big eyes looking up at Namjoon in… adoration? Maybe going to the shelter might be one of his favorite activities from now on.

They only went home after an entire day spent at the shelter. Namjoon was tired, he almost couldn’t keep his eyes open, but Y/n was probably more tired than him cause she kept running around to chase every puppy and kitten she saw.

He tried to stop her, knowing she would get tired, but she said, “Each one of them deserve love, okay,” before running around yet again.

Now as they sat in the bus on their way home, he saw out of the corner of his eyes Y/n’s head bobbing down every once in a while, following the motion of the bus. He snorted while he tried to hold his laugh. What he had thought would happen, really happened.

Feeling bad because he knew that would feel uncomfortable, he lightly directed Y/n’s head to rest on his shoulder. Instinctively, Y/n snuggled further into his shoulder to make herself more comfortable and when she was finally satisfied, she sighed.

This awfully looked like he was going to have a guest tonight.

The third day was on a Monday. He knew he was weird, Y/n had told him repeatedly, but he really liked Mondays. For him, it was finally the day in which he could do something about his problems at work that he just left off on Friday.

“I swear, you’re literally the personification of weird,” Y/n had commented one day.

To be honest, he didn’t really care if he was really what she had said. Can’t someone like something without being judged?

Right after they both woke up and had breakfast, Y/n went back to her apartment to get ready for the day.

Before leaving, she instructed him to find light clothes as they were going to spend time outdoors for the day. Exactly like what she said, he chose to wear an old t-shirt he had owned since he was in college and khaki shorts he found at the pit of his wardrobe.

“I hope they have mint choco flavor!” Y/n jumped up and down in excitement as they got closer to the ice cream parlor.

“Ew, why do you even like to eat cold toothpaste?” Namjoon asked rhetorically.

Y/n gasped. “What is this mint choco slander? You, mister, have never tasted life until you eat mint choco ice cream.”

“No, thanks. I bet I’d taste death eating those.”

Flabbergasted, Y/n stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “You-”

He quickly cut her off, “Let’s not continue the argument before there’s a bloodbath.”

Y/n chuckled proudly. “Because you know it’d be your blood that’ll be spilled.”

“Um, no,” he interjected. “I think you mistake your blood with mine.”

“Really? You wanna fight?” Y/n took a fighting stance in front of him in which Namjoon just grabbed her elbow and pulled her to walk again.

"Stop that! The kids will think you're one of them," he mumbled.

They were at a busy park surrounding a lake. Kids were running all around the place. Some parents tried to chase them but some went as far as scolding them. A small portion of parents even just let their kids disappear into the crowd of people. He doubted those parents even care about their kids.

He never knew such a place like this existed. During the three days he spent on this journey, he had learned and knew more things than all of his life experiences combined. Maybe he’d have to thank Y/n after they reached the end of this journey.

“I start to think this journey is just your excuse to have a holiday.”

“No way. This is totally 100% for you. Speaking of that, do you already have an idea who your soulmate might be?”

Namjoon shook his head as he opened the door to the ice parlor and gestured to her to enter first. “Just get your damn ice cream.”

There was a long line of people waiting to order, but soon enough, it was their turn.

Even before the cashier could greet them, Y/n already blurted out a question. “Do you have mint choco flavour?”

“We’re unfortunately ran out of it. Maybe you want to try mocha instead?”

Y/n pouted in disappointment as she was trying to find the next best flavor in the menu.

Though mint choco ice cream was his mortal enemy, he couldn’t help but to feel a pang of sadness upon seeing his best friend’s reaction. There was nothing worse than having your first choice unavailable.

“You know what? I changed my mind, bubblegum is now my favorite,” Y/n commented as they walked out of the parlor. A cup of bubblegum flavored ice cream in Y/n’s hand and the vanilla one in Namjoon’s. “Goodbye, mint choco.”

“See? You’re finally agreeing with me.”

“Yeah, but for different reasons. I still think it tastes good, but bubblegum is better. It’s a good thing they ran out of mint choco.”

“Your taste in ice cream is weird.”

“Why would they make these flavors then if not for me to enjoy?” she argued as she put more ice cream into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed in content. “I haven’t had ice cream in weeks. I miss how cold it feels.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.” There was no way, in his opinion, not even in alternate universes where she could stand not eating ice cream for weeks. She had a sweet tooth and couldn’t stand not eating ice cream in weeks, at least that was what he knew since the start of their friendship.

“Nope. These past few weeks, my boss has been giving me double the amount of work. I have to work overtime and by the time I’m off work, all ice cream places have closed. So I’m gonna savour all of this as much as I can. God knows when I can get ice cream again.”

Shortly after she said that, a kid, approximately around 9 years old, bumped into Namjoon and accidentally made him drop his ice cream. The kid, unaware of what just happened, just mindlessly bowing and saying sorry before running again to chase his friends.

“Oh no!” Y/n squatted down near the sorry sight of his ice cream.

Before he even registered what was happening, she handed him her ice cream. “Hold it for me.”

Instinctively, he held her ice cream. “Y/n, there’s no need for that. We can find the cleaning service and ask them to clean it.”

He didn’t know whether she was purposely ignoring him or she was so focused to the point she didn’t hear him. All he knew was the fact that she kept on cleaning up as best as she could. And that there was nothing he could do to stop her.

A few minutes later, Y/n jumped up from her squatting position. “All done!” She tossed the now dirty tissue in a trash can nearby.

She thanked Namjoon and took her ice cream back from him. But instead of eating it herself, she scooped some with the spoon and directed it in front of his face.

He must have looked bewildered because Y/n smiled and spoke, “We must share since you lost yours.”

He could swear when she said that, he felt warmth all around his body, originating from his chest. She just said she missed ice cream, yet when he lost his, she didn’t hesitate to share it.

“No, but thanks.”

Y/n frowned and softly touched the tip of the spoon to his lips. Reluctantly, he let her spoon-feed him.

“You said you want to savour it?” he asked after he swallowed.

Her answer, however, was something he never expected coming out from her mouth.

“What’s sweeter than eating ice cream is sharing it with your best friend.”

He swore he almost broke into tears at her words.

He knew how much she loved sweet foods. She even frequently ran to him crying when her brother ate all of her chocolate when they were kids. She broke many friendships because they didn’t want to accept her overpriced candies as presents. Heck, even a moment ago they were arguing about ice cream flavors!

This was a new side of Y/n that he just saw. A side she never showed him before, her best friend slash her only friend. He felt like he was learning more about Y/n than he was about his future soulmate.

So that was how their third day ended. Namjoon and her sitting on a bench facing the lake as they take turns to take a bite of her ice cream.

On Tuesday, the fourth day, Y/n had the genius idea of going on a road trip. It was a huge problem, because one: he couldn’t drive, and two: he wasn’t about to let Y/n drive for hours on end.

“This doesn’t sound like a very good idea,” Namjoon said for the millionth time that morning as Y/n stuffed their luggages into the tiny trunk in her tiny car. “Plus, I don’t think your car can withstand long hours on the road.”

"Shush." She forcefully closed the trunk. "You can't drive, therefore you don't deserve to have an opinion."

The car in question was a 2010 car that originally was owned by Y/n’s dad and given to her when she got a driver’s license. Please note that Y/n had told him long ago that she actually didn’t drive that much and probably wouldn’t need a car since she enjoyed taking the bus to work. Nevertheless, she refused to sell the car when she was in need of money after moving out of her parents’ house. She had said, and Namjoon still remembered it clearly, that, “I want to keep this bad boy until he’s an antique, then I want to sell him to the highest bidder, so I can be rich."

‘Okay’, Namjon had thought, ‘but antique cars are usually just sitting in the garage, not being overworked like Y/n’s.’ However, he never said anything, so Y/n automatically had thought she won again against him.

Minutes later, they were already on the road, going nowhere in particular. Namjoon was still steadfast in his stance. This wasn’t going to end well.

But what if he could persuade her to turn the car around by another means? He wasn't going to pass up this opportunity, so he tried again.

"Won't you be tired? Sleepy?" asked him.

"I'm not weak, Namjoon. Contrary to what you see me as, I'm as strong as you are, if not stronger."

"I lift three times a week." His words sounded more like a question.

"I walk up the stairs to the fifth floor multiple times a day."

Okay, this wasn't where the conversation was supposed to flow, but he wasn't going to back down.

"It's not my fault your apartment is crappy," he clapped back. “They can’t even fix their damn lift.”

"They will get it fixed soon, don't worry."

"That's what they said months ago!"

"Then what do you want me to do?" she challenged him.

"Find a new apartment!"

"They're all expensive. Plus, I’ve lived there since college, I’m kinda attached to it."

"You're a hopeless cause," he mumbled quietly, she probably didn't hear him.

After a few seconds of silence, Namjoon tried again, this time using another different approach.

"What if something terrible happens?"

"No, it won't. Relax. Chill. You're worrying too much. Why don't you just take a nap?"

"You're too chill, Y/n. We go out to nowhere without booking-"

"It's okay, really."

“How?” he asked, exasperated of how calm she was when they were about to go somewhere empty handed and with no planning whatsoever.

“How? Umm, I was on a road trip once.”

He wasn’t convinced. “When? You never tell me anything about it.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything I do! It was when I was 12. My dad and uncle took me along with them to go around the country.”

“12 years old, Y/n! You were 12. Now you’re in your 20s.” Namjoon wasn’t amused at all at this point. “Turn the car around now!”

“What? No!” Y/n exclaimed. “This is an important part of the journey. Being at a place you’re familiar with won’t help you dig deeper into yourself. You’d just be too preoccupied with your problems.” Then Y/n finished her speech off with a quiet mumble, “You’ll never find anything new by being in your comfort zone.”

Namjoon hated once again at how right her words were. He really wanted to argue with her, but she was right. Being on his couch all day, doing the same things everyday, wouldn’t change anything in his life.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Fine, okay, you win. Happy?”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Y/n grinned. “Very.”

That night they arrived at a small motel that probably only had like 10 rooms at most. It had a homey feeling, but the stench coming from the lobby, though. It was unbearable for him.

As they dragged their suitcases while they were trying to find their room amidst the numberless doors, Namjoon asked Y/n, “Why are we in this crappy motel again?”

To answer that, Y/n shrugged. “Don’t know. I just saw the signs and went straight in.”

“Didn’t you smell something at the receptionist?”

They finally arrived in front of their room. They didn’t actually know it was their room, but based on the instructions that the creepy receptionist just gave them, there was a high chance this was it.

Y/n answered as she opened the door. “Yeah. The receptionist actually whispered to me that they just finished eradicating rats. He said there was an infestation in the lobby.”

He couldn’t help but to grimace while following her into the room. She had been told about all of that and she still decided to rent a room. He would never understand her way of thinking even after years of friendship.

As if she could read his mind, she spoke, “Don’t worry. All the rats were successfully killed and all of them were in the lobby. We’re safe.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked him. I’m not stupid, Joon.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Geez, chill. I just asked you a question.”

And that was how their fourth day concluded.

For the first time since the start of the journey, Namjoon finally initiated an activity on the fifth day.

He managed to browse on his phone for things they could do, eat breakfast with whatever food they had, and even pack lunch for the both of them before Y/n even woke up.

When she woke up, he hesitantly asked her to go hiking. Throughout the journey this far, he only followed wherever she wanted to go, so he didn’t really expect the reaction that he got from her after proposing his idea.

She widened her eyes as she digested his words and her breakfast. “Hiking? Where?”

“Behind this motel, there’s a small hill. What do you think?”

Y/n nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Let’s go. Spending a day with nature doesn’t hurt.”

Oh, how wrong she was.

The idea was for them to hike together, maybe even side by side, as they enjoyed the view. But instead, Namjoon left her a solid 50 meters.

Perhaps it was because he was taller, therefore he had longer legs and strides, or because he was excited, so he walked faster, or even both. No one really knew for sure, not even him.

“Joon!” she called once again in the span of less than 5 minutes. “Don’t walk too fast!”

Namjoon sighed as he stopped in his tracks, waiting for her to catch up with him. She was lucky she was his only best friend or he would’ve strangled her by now because of her naggings.

Quite a surprise to himself, when she finally caught up with him, he squatted down and ordered her to ride on his back. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him, but he just went with it. Maybe his unconscious thought that she would quit complaining if she was on his back. There was only one way to find out.

“Why? I can walk on my own.” She wiped the sweat on her forehead with a tissue.

He scoffed. “You look like you’re about to pass out any second. Just shut up and let me carry you.”

He didn’t know what he had expected from giving someone a piggyback ride and that someone to be Y/n, but he was sure a strangling grip around his neck wasn’t part of the deal.

“Can you-” Gasp. “-not strangle me?”

Y/n immediately let go of him. The warmth of her embrace suddenly disappeared. “Oops. Sorry.”

Once they arrived at the top, Y/n jumped off his back. “Woah, this is so cool.” She pointed at the motel that now looked small. “That’s our motel!” she exclaimed.

They found a large flat rock that they both could sit on and ate lunch together.

As she munched on her food, she asked, “Have you figured out who your soulmate is?”

“Not yet. I start to think this doesn’t work.”

“Good things take time, my dude.”

Oh, how he really wished it was true.

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do you know that I always wanted to tick off ‘hiking’ from my wishlist?”

“The wishlist you had since you’re 10?”

She nodded. “After more than a decade, I finally finished everything on my wishlist.” She suddenly broke into a fit of giggles. “I’m gonna make a new one once we’re home.”

“What’s going to be in it?” he asked curiously.

Y/n took a moment to think before answering, “Maybe… to find my soulmate.” It came out more like a question rather than an answer.

She abruptly chuckled. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if in the end we figure out our soulmates in this journey?”

A lightning fast thought struck him but disappeared just as fast as it came. Throughout the rest of the day, he was trying to recall that thought to no avail.

The next day, on Thursday, they were going home. They couldn’t handle another hour, no scratch that, they couldn’t even handle another minute at the motel. Opposite to what Y/n had initially thought, the stench of rat carcass reached far beyond the lobby to their room.

A series of “see I told you so”s later, Namjoon finally broke her.

“Yes, Namjoon. Thanks for telling me that. I know you’re right and I’m wrong. Now please put on a song, I want to sing.”

Another thing Y/n was bad at, according to him, was singing. He knew she liked to sing, she’d told him about it, but he never understood how she managed to be so confident yet so bad at it. If he were told to rank between her ability to sing and choose a good motel, he’d probably have put singing as the first place based on how bad she was at it. Call him a bad friend, but he was just being honest.

However, he still played a song just to satisfy her. An easy song that no one can screw up, but he knew she would still screw up anyways. After all, enduring her cracked singing voice was the least he could do after being driven from and to a crappy motel.

And then she sang. And sang. And sang. One song turned to three turned to five then ten and fifteen. Before she went for the sixteenth song, Namjoon stopped her.

“Aren’t you thirsty from singing?” Nice catch! The question was just an attempt to make her stop a while so he could regain his hearing.

“Don’t even have to ask.”

As she gulped down water from her flask, Namjoon eyed her warily. He prayed, and he was an atheist, that she would forget about singing.

He didn’t know which God had answered his prayers, but when Y/n put down her flask, she already babbled about something else other than singing. Looked like the world, and God, were on his side today.

She was talking about the random bird that was flying straight to her car, almost hitting the car. Also about a dog that stuck out its head from the car beside them. And about how expensive the motel was for being smelly and dirty.

Lastly, “Do you think I cut out to be a singer?”

Yeah, maybe he was pushing his luck.

Day seven fell on a Friday. They spent the day walking hand in hand leisurely on the beach. Beside him, Y/n was talking about what color she should dye her hair next.

“I think I should go with green. What do you think?” Y/n nudged his side with her elbow and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Your boss won't let you dye your hair crazy colors,” he said. “Please don’t do anything that can get you fired.”

Y/n pouted at his answer. But soon her frown vanished as her eyes fell upon a bikini in a display of a store.

Namjoon exhaled. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

True enough, Y/n pulled on his hand that was still clasped in hers towards the store and only stopped after they were in front of the display.

“What a cute bikini!” she cooed before running inside the store, leaving a bewildered Namjoon outside.

Right when he entered the store, he heard a squeal that could only belong to one person.

He turned to the source of the sound and saw Y/n laughing with a store clerk. A male and handsome store clerk.

He wasn't the type of person who gets jealous easily or possessive, but he never saw Y/n with a man other than himself. So he couldn't really help it when he felt jealousy seeped through his gritted teeth. But he soon had forgotten about it when Y/n looked up at him and grinned.

Y/n approached him while holding a bikini set.

“This is their latest design. I’m gonna try it. Wait for me!” Then she disappeared to the fitting room before he could remind her that she didn’t wear bikinis.

Throughout the time he had known her, not even once she ever said anything about bikinis, let alone wearing one and he had known her since they were in diapers. What made her suddenly want to have a bikini?

Minutes later, after a series of clanking noises and a few curses, Y/n came out of the fitting room and he couldn’t believe what he saw. Surely the fitting room was a magic box or something, because there was no way his childhood best friend, his innocent Y/n, came out looking like a model out of a magazine. Well, maybe more like a model before they got heavily photoshopped since he still could see some tiny spots, cellulite, and scars on her skin. And maybe a plus size model because her hips would be considered wide compared to those models. But he didn’t mind them, they made her look more… natural, more human.

While he was busy admiring her, a cough suddenly woke him from his daze. He turned to see the store clerk from earlier, now standing beside him.

“You look very beautiful,” he commented, not minding the killing glare coming from Namjoon.

Y/n, without heeding the store clerk’s compliment, asked, “Joon, do you think this is okay?”

Namjoon was tempted to say, “Just okay? You look like a greek goddess who just blessed me with her presence.” But he was too paralyzed to say anything.

“I think you look great,” the store clerk spoke up again. For a split second right after he said that, he looked at Y/n’s thighs before looking at her eyes again.

It happened so fast, Namjoon thought he was just imagining it. But when Y/n’s facial expression turned sour and she quickly went back to the fitting room, he was wondering whether she saw that too.

His suspicion was confirmed right after they left the store.

“I can’t believe it!” she said while stomping beside him. “He looked at my thighs, Joon! Did you see it, too?”

He just hummed.

Y/n huffed. “I’m going to file a complaint to their manager.”

“You won’t do that,” he replied knowingly.

“I’m gonna make it viral, then. Let the whole world see how horrible he is.”

Namjoon really wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. “How? You don’t have footage of him doing it.”

“Damn, you’re right,” she mumbled. “Maybe I’m just not meant to have a bikini.”

A lot of thoughts ran through his mind. He wanted to let her know how pretty she looked in that bikini. How captivating the curves in her body were. But in the end, he only suppressed all of that. In his justification, he wanted a more appropriate timing. He didn’t want to say all that to her when she was mad or she’d think he said that to make her feel better. He wanted not just to comfort her, but to actually make her realize how beautiful she was.

On Saturday, his second favorite day after Monday, Y/n arrived a bit later at his apartment compared the days before. But when she saw him ready for the day, she said, “I’m giving you a chance to wake up late, but whatever.”

As per usual, Y/n didn’t tell him where they were going, and he was surprised when they arrived in front of a large building with a sign that read “library”.

Looking at Namjoon’s puzzled face, Y/n probably could read what was in his mind. “You still have no idea who your soulmate is, right? I just think that maybe it’s because we’ve focused so much on doing physical activities instead of, like, feeding the mind.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe we can do a little bit of reading. Because, you know, reading is like eating but for the mind. Or whatever that quote is supposed to go,” she elaborated.

“I read in my free time.”

“Have you read anything during this entire journey?” she raised an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s because of your brilliant idea of having a journey. Had you let me sit down on my couch, I would’ve read the entire biography of the founding fathers by now.”

“Gosh, you’re so boring. No wonder you haven’t found your soulmate. And for the record, you learned a lot of things from this journey. Things that might help you find your soulmate. You know what, let’s just go.” With that, Y/n pulled on his hand and stepped into the library.

Namjoon was in the middle of reading a philosophy book when Y/n suddenly spoke to him.

“I can’t focus, Joon,” she whined. “I have too many things on my mind.”

Those words were the most terrifying words he had ever heard, especially if they came out of Y/n’s mouth. Every time he heard those words, he felt like he wasn’t being attentive enough towards his friends to the point he didn’t know that something was disturbing their peace. And that feeling was heightened when Y/n was the one in trouble. He knew her for the longest time, shouldn’t he be more caring towards her?

He breath hitched, anticipating what Y/n had to say. “Why?”

She took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. “I know this stupid because it hasn’t ended yet, but I already miss this journey.”

Obviously he didn’t want to admit it in front of her, she would get a crazy idea otherwise, but he, too, could feel a pang in his chest that felt awfully familiar. It was the same feeling he got when he moved out of his parents’ house and when he was reminiscing the time he spent with his late dog. Also when he graduated from high school and had to leave his high school friends to pursue higher education. He wasn’t a stranger to this feeling. In fact, he knew it too well.

Y/n was right, though. It was indeed stupid to feel this way because they still had one more day together.

So he responded with, “We’re still in this journey. And even after this journey ends, we can still go on adventures together,” as a weak attempt to console her and also himself.

“It’s not the adventures that I miss. It’s the time we spend together. We’ve never spent this much time together.”

Of course he knew that. He knew he was going to miss the time they spent together, but his own pride made him unable to act vulnerable in front of her. Especially in the time when she needed him the most.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each deep within their own thoughts. That was when a crazy idea suddenly came to him. He usually wasn’t the one coming with crazy ideas, it was kinda Y/n’s thing and she probably would have copyrighted it if it was possible. But he wasn’t just going to be quiet at a time in crises like this.

“We can arrange some small one-day adventures every month. How does that sound?”

Y/n smiled although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sounds great. Just promise me you won’t rain check on me.”

It worked! He successfully made her smile again. As he cheered inside his mind, he assured her, “I won’t. I’ll write it on my calendar.”

Namjoon dreaded the last day of The Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate more than when he was called for a job interview by a big company. He even had clammy hands and was sweating bullets. His hand trembled as he waited for Y/n to announce what they were going to do on this last day.

“Holiday has to be concluded with a lazy day. So I call for breakfast in bed,” Y/n explained as she once again wrecked his kitchen.

“I’m not in my bed, though.”

“Your bed is not locked for the rest of the day once you’re out of it,” Y/n said in a matter-of-factly.

“But please don’t ruin my kitchen.”

Y/n briefly stopped cooking as she looked around the kitchen. Then she shrugged. “Well, it’s too late. You should’ve said that earlier.”

He originally had thought that Y/n would make food for him, give it to him, clean the kitchen, then left. But he was surprised when Y/n came back to his bedroom while holding a plate of her own after delivering his.

“Move,” she commanded before shimmying beside him on the bed. She grabbed the remote on the nightstand and turned on the TV.

“Now, we relax. Because we’ll be stressed out of our minds tomorrow.” She leaned back and started eating her bacon.

So that was pretty much how their ninth day went. But that wasn’t all.

Long after they had finished their food, they still watched the TV. Messy kitchen and other duties were long forgotten.

As time passed by, Namjoon found himself cuddling Y/n while she rested her head on his buff chest. And not long after, they both fell asleep in that position with the TV still playing in the background.

But all of that couldn’t last long as tomorrow they had to go to work. So after waking up from their nap, they cleaned the kitchen and Y/n went home before it got too dark.

Instantly after Y/n closed the door behind her, Namjoon felt empty. It wasn’t just his apartment that felt empty, but also his mind and soul. He was already used to her constant nagging, her constant company, and her voice. He wanted to run to her and tell her to extend their journey, but obviously, that was impossible. They had responsibilities, especially since they just neglected them for a week.

On Monday, the day that used to be his favorite but now he loathed it, he came home to a voice message from the person he’d been waiting for.

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t talk to you yesterday whether you’ve found your soulmate or not. I was anxious about work so I forgot. Umm… As soon as you receive this message, please call or text me, okay? I wanna hear what you thought.”

He couldn’t help but also notice something in her voice. Fatigue? Or was it sadness? He swore he could hear it and wasn’t just imagining it.

Wanting to check up on her, he automatically called her. First ring. Second ring. Third ring. He waited and waited, but it only went to her voicemail.

Not giving up so early to talk to his best friend, he rang her again. And waited. And waited. And kept waiting. But just like the first time, she didn’t pick up her phone.

In the end, he settled with sending her a text.

He didn’t know why he was suddenly nervous as he typed the message.

It said, “I still don’t have an idea who that might be. Maybe the journey didn’t work. But, hey, are you sad? Or maybe sick?”

He only got the reply the next day at lunch. He kinda hoped to read long messages about how he shouldn’t be so pessimistic and that he surely would find his soulmate, just like how Y/n usually talked. But instead, she just replied with, “What a bummer.”

He only sighed in disappointment.

The next few days were grim and hard for him. His boss gave him so much work despite having to catch up on his other work. Every time he rode the bus from and to work, he remembered Y/n’s slouched position beside him as they came home from the animal shelter. He could almost feel her head on his shoulder again.

Every time he played a song, he got reminded of the time when he had to endure Y/n’s off-key singing. A memory played in his mind every time he passed an ice cream parlor. Heck, he even missed the feeling of anticipation that he felt every time he woke up in the morning.

What was worst of all though was the fact that they didn’t talk at all after her last text. Not even the occasional text messages or sending each other memes just like what they used to do before the journey started.

He knew it was because they both had a lot of catch up to do after neglecting work for a week, but he really wished that they could spare a bit of time to talk together.

Oh, how silly he was when he dismissed her for missing their time together back at the library. What made him feel even more silly was him being a coward and not admitting back then that he was, too, going to miss spending time together.

One particular night, he had trouble sleeping worse than any other night he had been missing Y/n. He kept turning around, hoping to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but to no avail. In the end, he gave up and settled to reminiscing their time together.

As he delved into his memories, every single activity they did, every word she said, and every place they went to, his half-awake mind came upon a realization.

He missed her enthusiasm that could lift his bad mood instantly. He missed her pushiness that made him do things he didn’t want to do, only to show him that she knew what he would like. He also missed her short legs and her whines when he walked too fast. He missed her love for animals, her love for mint choco ice cream, her laugh, smile, kindness, and voice.

He missed her beauty, her body, and her sense of style. He even missed her unruly hair. He missed receiving her love and attention. He missed loving her and having her in his arms. He missed loving her. She was the soulmate he had been looking for. She was his soulmate. His. Soulmate.

At the crack of dawn, a few hours after Namjoon could finally fall asleep, he woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. He had an important thing to tell Y/n. And he had to do it now before she went to work and he lost another chance to meet her.

He checked the clock, it read 5 a.m. He quickly got up from his bed, took a shower, and grabbed a protein bar before leaving.

In the bus on his way to her apartment, he kept tapping his foot impatiently as he chewed on his protein bar. At times like this, he really wished he could drive. But for now he had to settle with the bus.

He jumped out of the bus as soon as it stopped at the bus stop closest to her apartment.

He checked the time again, 5:43 a.m. He still had a few minutes before she woke up.

He arrived in front of her apartment after five minutes of walking. He knocked on the door rapidly to the point he was sure he accidentally woke up the neighbors. However, it was the last thing on his mind.

A minute later, a sleepy Y/n with a bed head opened the door.

“Namjoon, wha-”

He instantly pushed her in and closed the door behind them both.

“Hear me out,” he demanded.

Y/n nodded while yawning.

“Let me help you cross out one activity from your wishlist.”

“Why are we talking about that at this time?”

“Because it’s important."

“I don’t see it."

He started to lose his patience. “It is! There’s one activity that’s really important right? Like, more important than the others.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Which one? I haven’t written a lot in the list, actually.”

“What are they?"

“To eat a banana-”

For a second, Namjoon was speechless. “What? Banana? Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just miss eating bananas.”

“Okay… What’s next?”

She took a moment to think, then answered, “Ah! I want to buy a new phone. Haven’t changed mine in years.”

He sighed. “Next?”

“Be a babysitter for a day.”

That wasn’t an answer he was looking for. “It’s a job for teenagers.”

“That’s why I only want to do it for a day.”

“Then?”

“Learn skateboarding. A skatepark just opened around here.”

“Anything else?”

She pouted. “You don’t want to help me cross any of those?”

“Not that. But, you said a few days ago on our journey that there was something you wanted to put on your wishlist.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Really? I don’t remember. What was it?”

He really wanted to strangle someone at this point. Why was she so dense? “You really don’t remember?”

“I don’t think I do. Sorry. What was it, though?”

“You wanted to find your soulmate.”

It took her a second to digest his words, but when she finally did, her eyes widened. “Oh, right. Does that mean you want to help me find my soulmate? Go on another journey? You know, you don’t have to use that as an excuse to-”

“Shut up, Y/n. Stop talking so much.”

Y/n frowned. “Sorry.”

He huffed. “I never knew doing this was going to be this hard.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I don’t want to go on another journey to find anyone’s soulmate. And especially not after I realized last night that we have found our soulmates.”

Before he could say anything else, she cut him off. “Really? Who is yours? What about mine? Do I know-”

“Yes! We know them.” He finally decided to just cut the chase and came out clean. “You’re my soulmate, Y/n. And I’m yours. I was so busy chasing love during our journey to the point I never thought about the possibility of you being my soulmate.” With a softer tone, he concluded, “The fortune teller was right. I knew who my soulmate is and where to find them, but I was too stupid to realize that.”

Y/n was stunned for a while before slowly blinking. Once. Twice. “Wow. That’s crazy.” Then she grinned. “You finally admit that you’re stupid!”

“Y/n, that’s not the point!” he groaned.

“Yes, yes, I know.” She laughed. It sounded like bells in his ears. “I’m just messing with you. So, what should we do now?”

“Y/n.” He turned serious if he wasn’t being serious before. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

For a few seconds, Y/n stared at his eyes expectantly, as if she was waiting for something.

“Y/n?”

“What?”

“What do you say?”

“Of course yes, you dummy. I thought it was obvious.”

“Seriously now?” He rolled his eyes.

“Wait. Is this the part where we should kiss?” she asked in wonder.

He was really holding himself hard not to roll his eyes yet again. “Duh, Y/n.”

“But I haven’t brushed my teeth!” Then she disappeared into her bathroom, leaving a bewildered Namjoon in the living room.

As he stared at her bathroom door, he whispered to himself, “What did I just sign up for?”

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[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Pick-Up Lines

Summary: Gajeel hits Reader with a pick-up line that’s just a little out of line causing Reader to slap him for being inappropriate. All is well in the end when Reader and Gajeel make a deal.

TW/CW: Gajeel Redfox x Reader. Dirty pick-up line. Reader slaps Gajeel. Angsty Gaj.

Requested?: No

Word Count: 1,315

A/N: I started this out with a happy, funny, path in mind but that path somehow managed to make a detour though Angstville. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Gajeel and Laxus tie for my favorite in Fairy Tail so I felt it was only fair to do an imagine for him too. This was prompted but I tweaked the prompt slightly. It’ll be in bold as usual. Anyways, requests are open and love to all!

Your POV

    As I enter the Guild Hall, I look around for a certain metal head and thankfully don’t see him. Thoughts of him invaded my brain the entire time I was gone on a job all because of his stupid pick-up lines that he constantly bombards me with. The weird thing is, if he’s not testing pick-up lines on me, then he’s picking on me and it annoys me to no end. Especially considering I have a massive crush on him. I take a seat at the bar and smile as Mira makes her way over, “Hello (Y/n)! What can I get ya?” I order a drink and soon after she hands it to me, my Thunder Legion teammates are calling me over to join them at one of the tables while they watch Natsu and Gray bicker at the one beside them.

    I sit down beside Evergreen with my back turned to the table like her as we laugh as Natsu and Gray hurl halfhearted insults at each other. Bickslow drops down onto the bench from his previous seat on the table and leans over to whisper in my ear, “Bet you’re sad he’s not here, huh?”

    I elbow him in the ribs, “Shut up, Bic. I’m not in the mood.”

    Ever giggles on my other side, “I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. He always does when (Y/n) is around.” Soon, for some reason, Natsu and Gray are challenging Droy and Jet to a pose off. Happy is flying above them to referee. At the other table, Levy and Lucy have their heads together reading a book and Juvia is drooling over Gray as per usual. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the Guild door open but don’t notice who comes in. Ever and I are talking about the job we just got back from when Panther Lily hops up on the table across from us to inquire about what the girls are reading. Butterflies swarm around my stomach as I realize who had entered the Guild moments before. I silently hope that he has other business to tend to and won’t talk to me.

    Just when I think my luck is good today, the table shifts a little bit and someone sits down behind me with one leg to either side of me and he pokes his head into view between me and Ever, “You know (Y/n), you’re so hot that my zipper is falling for you.” Ever gasps and several people around us giggle. I can feel a blush spread across my cheeks as I stand, slap Gajeel across the face, and then stomp over to the Request Board to find another job so I can get the hell out of here.  

    As my eyes roam the board, Lily steps up beside me, “I tried to tell him that pick-up line was no good but he won’t listen to me. A red handprint on the face on the other hand, now that’s a teacher you can’t ignore.”

    I sigh, “Did I overreact?”

    “Considering that line stepped across a certain line in the sand he seems to have been toeing lately, no. However, I do encourage you to give him a chance. He may be a complete idiot sometimes but he has a good heart that seems to be entirely in love with you. He simply does not know how to show it,” he responds, and I can feel him observing me, “And if I’m not mistaken you feel the same for him.” I hear Lily leave and drop my head to look at the floor. I probably shouldn’t have been so harsh on him, that line just threw me for a loop. I expected something but I didn’t expect it to be so dirty and loud, usually he just mumbles them so only I hear. I sigh and head back to the bar.

    I find that he also had the same idea as he’s seated on a stool with a bright red handprint on his cheek. Feeling guilty I lightly trace the print, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to slap you so hard.” He sets his glass back down on the bar and just as I’m about to pull my hand away he takes it in his and kisses my knuckles.  

    He returns back to his drink, letting my hand go, and stares at the wall ahead of him, “It’s okay, tiny. I crossed the line. I probably should’ve saved that one for if I actually manage to win you over one of these days.”

    I grab one of the barstools and place it closer to him so that when I hop onto it I can lay my head over on his shoulder. It’s quiet for a moment as thoughts bounce chaotically around in my head. Finally, I decide to say something, “I honestly thought you’d never feel the same way I do.”

    He glances down at me, “How could I not? Did you really think I wouldn’t fall in love with the way you always have your teammates’ backs or the way you kick ass every time you fight even if it looks like you’ll lose. You never give up or back down. There’s also the way you always act like everyone annoys the hell out of you but when it comes down to it you’re there whenever they need you as soon as they need you. Hell, I even fell in love with the way you look so adorable when you get angry. That’s why I always pick on you.”  

    He hesitates before continuing, “But I just managed to push you away. I always break things. I don’t even like myself sometimes so I don’t know why I thought you might be interested in me. You’re too good for me. You’ve always been good.” It’s now that I realize he’s beating himself up over his past. I turn my head and place my chin on his shoulder so that I can look at him. He’s staring down at the bar and I can tell he’s fighting back tears.  

    “It’s funny that the reasons you fell in love with me are the same reasons that made me love you. Gajeel you’ve always been one of my favorite people around here even if you do annoy me sometimes. I think there’s a lot that you still need to learn about me because my past isn’t as pristine as you and everyone else thinks it is,” I pause, trying to decide how to ask this, “Truth be told I’ve always admired the way you’ve redeemed yourself and I never thought I’d be good enough for you. So, if I think I’m not good enough for you and you think you’re not good enough for me, how about we say they cancel out?”

    He’s quiet for a few moments so I decide to try to ask this his way, “Gaj, I’m no photographer but I can definitely picture us together. This causes him to look over at me with a grin plastered on his face but I’m not done, “I like your shirt, it looks like it’s made out of boyfriend material.” He laughs now so I keep going, “Life without you is like a broken pencil, pointless.”

    Finally, he pops off with his own line, “We’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.”

    It’s at this moment that Panther Lily hops onto the bar and makes his way over to us, “Is this your two’s way of asking to start a relationship?” Gajeel and I look at each other and then back at Lily and grin, nodding our heads.

    Lily rolls his eyes and wanders off as Gajeel turns his attention back to me, “This means your mine now, right tiny?”

    I giggle, “I’ll be yours as long as you’ll be mine.”

    He grins again, “Deal.”

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[idiotic-genius]

How to make characters fall in love

🍦 Requested by @ bishstopit

There are several things you should think about when you want two characters to fall in love with each other.

1. What kind of romance do you want them to have?

This seems unnatural to think about but it’s important: Do you want them to fall in love because they’re alike? Because they’re complete opposites? Is it a Romeo-and-Julia kind of romance or an unhealthy relationship they have, even before they fall in love in the first place? Here are some examples:

Rey Palpatine and Kylo Ren/Ben Solo: Unhealthy. You don’t just forgive a mass murderer and have a healthy relationship with one (Weird, I know). Yes, Ben tried to redeem himself, but the main point in a relationship isn’t “fixing” the other person.

Magnus Chase and Alex Fierro: Healthy. They are actually in love and it’s not because they want to change the other person significantly.

Severus Snape and Lily Potter: Unhealthy. He had a crush on her and it made him a horrible person, but he made it seem like it was other peoples’ fault (James, Harry etc.)

2. What do the characters want?

Next, you should try to sort out what the characters individually are looking for in a partner. Romantic attraction is something that can be very different from person to person and has lots to do with how they were raised and what their experiences are. If you already know who you want to be together, at least try to make it fit. Here are some examples:

A person with “daddy issues” is more likely to be attracted to people that are older than them. That is because they are subconsciously looking for someone to replace their father figure. This doesn’t have to mean they only get with people that are way too old for them, it is just a preference that can be observed.

A person with [!TW!] abusive parents, relatives or teachers, or someone who has been bullied, is more likely to be attracted to “bad” people because they have learned a different defintion of love when they were young. That doesn’t have to mean they only get into unhealthy relationships, it just means that they have a different perceiving of love.

Also, usually a person is attracted to someone who reminds them of “first lovers” like their parents. However, it can also be the complete opposite, if e.g. someone hates their parents.

3. How to hint romance

Even before the characters directly realize they are in love, there are ways to hint that they’re fancying each other to the reader before it’s explicitly stated. That’s, however, a tricky process, as we wouldn’t want the reader to know too much, right? Here are some ways to hint romance before the characters even know themselves:

Being protective of each other. For example, if the characters get in danger, A would subconsciously make sure B is okay first, or if A gets insulted, B would be the first one to get angry.

Noticing appareance more. For example, with a first-person narrator/3rd-person selective narrator from A’s perspective, A would spend more time describing what B is wearing without using the “oh no I’m staring”-clichée (or use it if you want, it’s just not as subtle). That way, they also notice little changes in the other’s appareance.

Subconsiously testing limits. That means teasing, joking around and subtle flirting, even if you’re not aware that you’re doing it. People do that to find out how far they can go with the other and how they react.

Remembering tiny details. For example, remembering each others’ favorite sort of ice cream or knowing what the others’ favorite color is.

Here’s a little example on how to do that, with A(sh) fancying B(ay) and B having a crush on A, written from A’s perspective:

When I arrived at the coffee shop on 5th Avenue, barely with my shoe laces bound because I got in such a hurry, Bay, Cora and Daniel were already waiting for me, sitting outside under one of the yellow umbrellas. Slightly panting, I let myself fall on the empty chair at their table.

“Who said you could sit with us?”, Bay asked, teasingly taking a judging sip from their coffee. Two sugars, as always, I guessed.

“You want me to go?”, I replied, raising my eyebrows.

Bay chuckled. “Here’s the menu”, they said, handing it over.

When I reached out for it, I noticed they had painted their nails... red? That was something else, usually they were black.

“So, why did I have to get here so fast?”, I asked, remembering the message Daniel sent me.

“Oh, well”, he said, “We just thought you’d like to hang with us. Also, check this out!”

He took off his jacket and revealed a shirt of his favorite band. I nodded appreciatively. At least he switched his shirt every once in a while. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was even wearing the same jeans. I never understood how he could just live like that- and how Cora was able to put up with it. Love, I guess.

“At least you switched your shirt this week”, Bay said while scrunching their nose in overdramatic disgust, an echo of my thoughts. Of course, their outfit was well picked out, black skinny jeans, a red flannel and the usual hairstyle. Something else I would never understand: How could someone look so elegant while also looking so chill?!

“So, Ash”, Cora said, pointing to the menu I was still holding, “Picked something?”

“Don’t bother.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “She’s going to pick the same cupcake she eats all the time.”

“Nothing better than a good cupcake”, Bay said, “What will you pick, the same pie you eat all the time?”

“Nothing better than a good pie”, Cora repeated what they had just said, but she winked at me as she said it.

Notice how Bay was teasing Ash, yet defended her when Daniel commented on her order, and how Ash immediately noticed that Bay had painted their nails a different color? I tried to not make it obvious that they like each other, even though it wasn’t hard to tell because I put so much into that little of text.

4. How do the characters find out?

There are, as I like to put it, two ways to make the characters “click”: The boom way, and the soft way. Which one of those you use is your decision, even though you should make sure it fits the plot of the book.

The boom way: In a nutshell, something grave happens that makes the characters realize how important they are to each other. That can be a ton of things, e.g. one of them almost dying, them having a fight, them having to split up in a dangerous situation or even someone else telling them how obvious it is.

The soft way: When there is no actual event that has the characters like “oh no I love them”, this is how it could go instead. Usually, A would realize that they love B when B does nothing “special” at all, maybe just singing along to their favorite song in the car, and A would just think “Yep, call it love I guess”. This way is much more calm and gentle than the other (and, in my opinion, a little harder to write, but thus also rarer in literature, which makes it interesting).

I’m terribly sorry this took me so long, I had a few problems researching for this post because romance isn’t really my strongest side :)

[deppsessed]

Good luck charm #2

Part one here

Pairing: Johnny Depp x reader

It’s taken me a few weeks to write and be happy with this part to post. I hope that you all enjoy it and that it was worth the wait. 

  A few days later, I swear I can still smell the musky scent of Sauvage, and the taste of cigarettes on my lips. It’s hard to comprehend any of the last seventy-two hours being real, and going by Alex’s (who I’m sitting opposite having coffee with) reaction and raised eyebrows at me retelling the whole story, she’s having a hard time with it too. And in all honesty, I don’t blame her, it’s a lot to process.

“So, he invited you to the concert after party?”

I nod my head and take a sip of my coffee. 

“Yep.”

“And he took you back to his hotel room? Where you-”

My lips curve into a smirk.

“He sure did.” 

“And you’re aware of the fact this all sounds like a badly written fanfiction?”

I have to burst out laughing. There’s no denying it because it really, really does. I couldn’t have made it up if I tried.

“Did I tell you about the part where he had to get his security to smuggle me out of the building unnoticed the next morning?”

For me, that had been the most amusing part of the story. Having breakfast with him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. After a few more spent kisses and I’d decided that it was time for us to part ways, he’d sent in his security in to make sure I got out of the building safely.

“But the real question is… Has he called or texted you?”

He hadn’t yet. The band had played a show last night, and would be travelling again for their next tomorrow. I wasn’t hanging on and waiting for him to reach out to me either. It would be pretty easy for me to pick up the phone and call him too, but I refused to be that desperate. 

I shake my head in reply to Alex’s question.

“No, but he gave me his number.”

“So, he’s waiting for you to call him then?” 

Realistically, the chances were that it was a one night thing. I wouldn’t hear from him again and we’d go our separate ways. I’d rather be hit with the reality of the situation than holding out on hope for a phone call and being disappointed when it didn’t happen. 

“I’m not going to. I don’t want him to think that I’m pining over him and completely desperate!” 

“You’re insane… You know, if he wasn’t in the slightest bit interested then he wouldn’t have given you his number to begin with.”

That was a true enough point to make, but I’m still not deluded enough to give into the fantasy. I’m ready to give her a reply when my phone, that’s been sitting on the table in front of me, starts to frantically vibrate. 

“Oh my god!” 

Alex spots the name on the screen before I’m able to take a glance. 

“He’s calling you! This really is a badly written fanfiction!” 

I shrug my shoulders and continue to let the phone ring out. If it’s important, he’ll leave a voicemail. 

“If you don’t answer that, I will!” 

I scowl at her and shake my head, it’s hard to believe that I’m the one that’s being responsible about handling all of this. Before she’s able to reach for the phone, I’m swiping it off the table and standing up. “I’m at least taking it outside.” I grumble under my breath.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi-” The voice on the other end is raspy and familiar. I can just about see him fidgeting around like he does in interviews when he’s nervous. “It’s Johnny.”

Silence.

 I’m confused. Does he want me to make the next move?

“Right… Your name rings a bell. There was this Johnny, that the other night I went to go and see his band and ended up spending the night in his hotel room-”

I don’t even mean for the words to sound as aggressive as they do .

“I feel like I owe you a little of an explanation -- I don’t usually do this. I, uh, I don’t usually invite girls - especially fans -  back to my hotel room, and not call for three days.” 

So it’s one of those phone calls, where he’s expecting to let me down gently and feels the need to explain everything that I already know to be the case. 

“There’s no need to make a fool of yourself… I get it.” 

“I don’t think that you do.” 

What isn’t there to get? 

“I get it. I mean this is probably the part where you offer me an obscene amount of money to not go to the press about it. You don’t need to worry--”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I freeze dead in my tracks, the thoughts of my overactive imagination and the words that I’m about to hit him with come to a close. Am I hearing things? Did he really just say…

“What?”

“It’s probably a really bad line. I don’t know if you heard me, I said….”

God, he’s insufferable. 

“No, I heard you… I just don’t get it.”

He has his choice of any girl in the world. Models, actresses, and here he is calling me.

“The other night was special for me-”

It’s a cliché, and just about the worst thing that he could come out with, but I’ll let him continue. 

“Listen, this probably sounds insane… but I want you here for the show tomorrow-”

He can’t be serious or that disconnected with reality. But then I remember the industry that he’s been working with the past thirty years, where he doesn’t have a nine to five job to cling onto, with a snap of his fingers he can pack his bags and travel somewhere else.

“I can fly you out, get you into the concert.”

That’s it. I can’t hold in my laughter, and I can just about see him pondering on the other end what’s so funny about his offer.

“I have a job-”

“So, call in sick?”

“It doesn’t work like that or that I don’t want to. It’s just, if I let you pay for the tickets and fly me out then that’s cheap, and I don’t want to be that person.”

There’s a long, drawn out sigh on the other end of the phone.

“Let me call you back.” I tell him, “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

---

A family emergency had been the most inventive thing that I’d been able to come up with, but it at least stopped any questions and pestering from work and friends about skipping town all of a sudden. The process of getting there had been planned to perfection, he was going to have one of the band’s security head on out to the airport and take me back to the concert venue - even if I had told him ten times how ridiculous it was and that I could get a cab, he had been insistent. 

The journey from the airport to the venue has me pondering the insanity of it all. Both in him actually wanting me here, and me going as far as to make it happen.  

The car pulls into the loading bay of the venue, where the tour buses and trucks with the band’s gear are on it. It’s when I get out of the car, that I notice him, like he’s just stepped off a photoshoot, puffing on a cigarette. I make the conscious decision to take him by surprise and sneak up on him.

“You know, those things are going to kill you one day-”

He startles, just about jumping out of his skin and choking on his cigarette in the process. 

“Too bad we’re all going to die anyway, so we might as well indulge in the bad things while we’re alive and kicking.”

“That’s a little of a morbid stance to have.”

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders, unphased, “Calling me out on my smoking and then calling me morbid might be the best ‘hello’ I’ve ever gotten.”

He flicks the cigarette to the floor before stubbing it out with his shoe. He stands there with outstretched arms, ready to welcome me, but in blind panic I go for a handshake rather than a hug.

“Hi.” 

His eyes widen, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I can almost see his thought process of just how he’s going to redeem himself and move on from the award pause.

“Hi,” There’s a long pause. “Was your flight okay? You got here safe?”

Thankfully, the flight had only been a couple of hours long - but that was more than enough time for me to spend on a plane. There was something about being in a constricted space, thousands of feet up in the air that made me nervous. Plus, without fail, I always felt disgusting afterwards.

“Guy beside me was snoring and drooling the whole time, I felt incriminated.” 

“Should’ve taken my offer to fly you out first class.” I snort and roll my eyes at him. We’d already been over this, I’d made myself clear, I wasn’t going to be his groupie.

“Actually, without being rude, is there a place I can go and shower first? Being frisked at security and sitting on a plane kind of makes me feel gross.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement, I can almost see the cheeky comment that he’s threatening to make on the tip of his tongue, but something stops him.  “Tour bus is free at the moment. I can give you the exclusive tour, too.” 

Showering on a tour bus. Great. Exactly what I had in mind. 

“Ladies first,” He gestures with his hand for me to move in front of him. It doesn’t take a scientist to work out that the giant black RV with the band logo across it is where we’re headed..

Much to my surprise, going inside, it’s more like a luxury hotel room on wheels. It feels a better standard than my apartment back home.

“This part is the kitchen…. We don’t use it much, aside from the mini bar.” 

It doesn’t even qualify to be called a kitchen. It’s a tiny little counter space with a microwave, a coffee machine, and a mini fridge. 

“And this is where we sit and relax, talk, play guitar...” He points towards the plush leather sofas adjacent to each other. “The cool part here is that the wall slides back if you need more space.”

“Impressive.”

“These are the bunks where we bring back the groupies.” 

I’m unsure whether they look claustrophobic, like I’ve heard many complaints about, or if they look quite cozy.

“There’s a proper bedroom through there too, but Alice and Joe usually fight it out for it. I don’t mind sleeping it rougher.” He explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “Bathroom is through the back. Take as much time as you need. I’ll stand guard for you.” 

“Thank you.” I look up at him with a smile before brushing past to open the door on the back wall that extends out into the bathroom. Much to my surprise, the room isn’t all that smaller than the bathroom in my apartment back home. The shower, that I assumed was going to be a small, cramped space, is quite spacious. The only strange thing is stripping down and knowing who is standing guard by the door.

He’s in every way true to his word, too. As I turn the water off and grab a towel to wrap myself in, I can hear a disagreement going on outside between Johnny and Tommy about the bathroom being otherwise engaged.

“I’m telling you, dude, you’re just going to need to find somewhere else to go and pee… Bathroom is off limits!”

“But I can’t hold it in, man! I’m dying! You think I can use the kitchen sink?”

Johnny starts to laugh at him, “You can’t be serious!”

There’s a little more toilet talk back and forth and laughing still going on by the time I’m dressed and nudging the door open carefully.

“Um, hi, Tommy.” I greet nervously and fold my arms over my chest.

“Oh! Now I get it… You have a girl here!” 

I can feel a blush rise to my cheeks just thinking about what is no doubt going through his mind. Thankfully, Johnny comes to the rescue.

“It’s not -- it isn’t that, Tommy.” 

“Oh, I’m sure.” He gives a wink at the two of us. “I’ll leave you to it, J-man!” And just like that, Tommy is off the bus.

“I’m sorry about him.” Johnny sighs, “He says what he thinks, there’s no stopping him.” 

“It’s fine,” I brush off, acting as if I’m unbothered. But in reality, that one comment has gotten to me. I can’t help but have the niggling thought in the back of my mind, if that’s the way that Tommy is going to react, then what is the rest of the band going to be like? 

---

The concert was amazing, even better than what it had been a few nights ago. I’d watched the show from the side of the stage, and could safely say that this time, Johnny had been looking and smiling at me. 

I hadn’t wanted to face the confrontations of the band after the show, so after the encore, I had decided to hide away in Johnny’s dressing room to look at my phone for a moment of peace and quiet. If I was to exclude the fact that it was Johnny Depp’s dressing room that I was sitting in, it would have felt like the first normal moment of an otherwise bizarre day. 

The door flying open makes me look up from the screen, to see Johnny standing there, still hot and sweaty from being under the lights. 

“Everything okay?” He asks with a concerned expression, “You weren’t there when I came off stage. I was a little worried that I’d scared you off.”

I’m hardly going to tell him that I’m scared of running into the band when he’s the one that’s brought me out here to be with him. “I just didn’t want to get in the way, I thought you guys would be in a race to hit the showers.” I lie coolly. It seems to be good enough, since he goes to change the subject.

“What did you think?” He asks, a grin firmly in place on his lips. “Could you see and hear alright? The speakers weren’t too loud?” 

I grin and nod my head eagerly. “You sounded amazing! Heroes was phenomenal...” I probably sound like I’m trying to impress him, but it’s my favourite song that the band do.

“Ah, you see,” He pauses to take a drink from his water bottle. “I think I had a little bit of extra good luck, with being cheered on the side front.” 

I can feel that warm feeling of heat going up to my cheeks, and certainly not for the first time today. It makes me feel so powerless and awkward to just stand and say nothing.

“Um,” He scratches the back of his head, “You must be hungry?”

Starving, actually. I hadn’t had anything to eat since getting here and been too shy to pluck up the courage to ask about food since getting here. I’d accepted my fate and growling stomach a good few hours ago.  But regardless, I downplay it, “A little, I guess…”

“Do you want to go and grab something to eat? I need to get showered and changed first… 

I’m not certain what prospect makes me more nervous. Dinner with him. Or dinner uncomfortably sitting around all of the Hollywood Vampires eating. Both make my stomach flip. Especially since he isn’t going to specify.

[littleholmes]

As someone with a dad who was, to put it mildly, a shit dad in my youth and most of my life but is now trying to redeem himself in my late 20’s, this situation with the Todoroki family to me is so interesting in it’s depiction of the family’s varied reactions to endeavor over the course of these arcs, idk let me explain [mild spoilers for ch. 300 under the cut, tw for mentions of abuse and abandonment]

My mom is similar to Rei, unmoved by my dad’s tears when he receives consequences for his actions and unfazed by his attempts to be a better man decades after he left and she (my mom) divorced him. I have three significantly older half-siblings, two of which have written him off completely, one who is indifferent but keeps contact with him, and then there’s me. I have wavered since my late teens to now between Touya’s anger, Fuyumi’s care, Natsuo’s indifference, and Shouto’s irritated tolerance (I know their emotions aren’t as simply reduced to the above but that’s a whole separate post).

When I see Enji, I see my dad. While he wasn’t nearly as awful nor was he physically abusive like Enji, I still bear the trauma and metaphorical burns of his emotional (& verbal at times) abuse, his neglect when he was around, and his years of pure straight-up abandonment. He recognized me as his kid, as a tiny human he helped create who existed, when it was convenient. When I see Dabi, I see what he’s done in these last chapters as completely justified, particularly given the hero society as it is right now and how much of a pedestal they put heroes on. I would be livid if a society put my dad on a pedestal as a No. 2, now No. 1 hero, if kids were saying they wanted to be him when they grow up. To see that, and have society praising him as an amazing man when I know the horrible shit he did to me and my mom and his other kids? That would be upsetting at the least and traumatic at worst. So Touya pulling out the truth to ruin his reputation? I don’t blame him.

Now when I see Fuyumi and her previous attempts to bridge the divide so to speak and play nice, I understand that too. I cling to the crumbs of moments when he was a good dad and the good times, but the bad tilt the scale in a way that makes it hard to ignore. It’s all part of the weird complicated emotions that, for some people, can come up when dealing with a parent, (particularly in my situation as an only/youngest child hybrid which gets extrapolated in the feeling-responsibility-for-aging-parents department, but I digress). My dad has improved since I was a kid, and while I recognize that he’s actively trying to be a better dad, it doesn’t make the damage he caused me and my mom any better. It’s hard to undo damage from gaslighting and emotional abuse. It’s taken time and years of therapy, but my view of my dad is still something that is incredibly complicated. He underwent cancer treatments this past year and that made everything even more emotionally complex because I was worried and scared, but there were absolutely moments when part of me, the part who is still very upset about what he’s done, was indifferent.

The metaphorical burns, the trauma, caused by my dad will always be in my mind. And I know forgiving is not forgetting, but I don’t think I’ve fully forgiven him--and idk if I ever will because his past actions have had major repercussions to my being and mental health, and while I recognize his progress, I also keep myself on guard and stop getting my hopes up because I’m always certain the bottom will drop and he’ll go back to being awful again and I don’t want go back to being that kid who was let down by her dad over and over again.

So when I see this Enji situation and the Todoroki family, I feel the same. I watch Enji and wonder when the bottom is gonna drop. Is he just trying to be ‘better’ because the public is watching now that he’s No. 2 and because his shit is catching up to him? Or is he really trying to be better because he feels guilty? I see him cry and I’m angry--why does he get to cry about his consequences? But then a tiny part is like damn because I recognize his humanity and I’m too damn empathetic for my own good, but the overwhelming bulk of me is rolling my eyes because I can’t accept the tears after everything he's done. I don’t want him to get away with it.

While I recognize that, sure, Enji’s trying, I’m wary and waiting for the bottom to drop, just like with my dad. And I might have a few moments of care, but mostly I’m as indifferent as the other siblings because I was Touya, crying and ripping my hair. I vied for years for my dad's attention, acceptance, and love, only to be forgotten for a few years then remembered. And because of that, now I’m severely burned and carry that weight of his ‘parenting’ and choices, and deal with it and him like Shouto.

But that’s just my situation and I recognize that everyone’s own histories and experiences with toxicity/abuse is different and influences how they view these arcs. How we view these arcs is as valid as our experiences and pain.

TL;DR: I just appreciate that we get to see the layers of this family and the complexity of their emotions while they navigate the situation that is reconciling past with present Endeavor.

[s-horne]

48. high school reunion au (steve/tony)

“Woah. That was a big sigh.”

Tony kept his eyes on the bar-top as he sighed again. “Big problems.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mm.” Tony sipped his drink and finally looked up. When he did, his drink went down the wrong way and he spluttered. “Wow. Hi.”

The man at his side grinned, blue eyes crinkling. “Hi. So, want to talk about those problems? I’m a pretty good listener.”

“I’d rather talk about you,” Tony said, a purr slipping into his tone as though he couldn’t help himself. “I don’t remember you.”

The man’s face soured a little, handsome features twisting for just a moment. “No, I don’t expect you would. I remember you, though.”

A lot of people remembered Tony. Not all for the reasons that Tony would have liked, he thought as he turned back to his drink. He lifted his glass in a mock salute. “Two shitty high school experiences, then. I hope your reunion will be better.”

“Not been great so far,” the man said and Tony couldn’t stop himself from turning to look at him again, taking a moment to study his features.

He was gorgeous, that much Tony could admit. But however attractive he was, Tony saw nothing overly familiar about him. It was only his eyes that made Tony pause. They were a beautiful blue and there was something about them that sparked a memory. Tony just couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly.

“Nor mine,” he said finally. “I fooled myself into thinking that my high school crush would be here, but he’s not.”

And, wow. No hesitation in admitting that. High-School-Tony would have rather been tied to the flagpole in front of every student than say he fancied a boy out loud, but times changed. His dad couldn’t hurt him anymore, after all.

“Oh?”

Tony nodded sadly, tongue flicking out to chase the straw in his drink. “Mm. Doubt you’d remember him. No one else seems to. I’m starting to think I made him up, actually.”

The man snorted. “Sounds familiar.”

“Looked nothing like you, though,” Tony said, giving the man a once-over. He quirked a grin and Tony matched it before he began to reminisce again. “He was tiny. Even compared to me, which is saying something given how big I was.”

“Wow. He really must have been small.”

“Hey!” Tony shouted even as he laughed. “But yes, he was. School punching bag, pretty much. Held his own, though. Or tried to, at the very least. Had a black eye more often than he didn’t and yet he was the fittest guy I knew.”

“Wait; who are you talking about?”

“Steve,” Tony said, sighing on the name. It still made his heart flutter, even if he hadn’t seen the guy since graduation. “Steve Rogers. Hung around with Barnes until he went off to college. I think they might have been brothers, even if the bullies used to say they were together.”

The man choked on air and Tony startled, reaching out to slap him on the back.

“Christ, are you okay?”

“You fancied him?”

Tony withdrew the helpful hand he’d offered and glared darkly instead. “Yes. Yes, I did. Were you one of the jackasses that beat him up?”

The man spluttered again, long limbs flailing so much he nearly fell from his bar stool. For someone so large, he wasn’t very aware of his size, it seemed.

“No.”

“Hm.” Tony narrowed his eyes as he settled back down. He let it go and turned back to his drink, taking another long pull. “I was going to ask him out at prom, but my dad wouldn’t let me go.”

“Maybe it was for the best,” the man said and Tony looked up at him curiously, intrigued by the careful tone, “I got beaten up at prom. Badly.”

Tony snorted and then held his hand up apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. I just bet that Steve did, too. A right knight in shining armour he was; always jumping into fights he should have stayed away from. Once, there was this girl from the chess club being harassed by the biggest guy in school and Steve–”

“What was I meant to do?” the man cut in hotly, “let her be groped?”

Realisation crashed over Tony and his mouth fell open. “Steve?” He floundered for a moment. “Steve Rogers? What happened to you? Were you a part of a government experiment; were you injected with something illegal and drug-related?”

Steve laughed, albeit a little stilted. “No. Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. I joined the army. Me and Buck both did, right after my graduation.”

“Damn. God bless America.”

“You haven’t changed, have you?” Steve asked with a grin.

“Why would I want to?” Tony shot back, winking at Steve and ignoring the rapid pounding of his heart. He wasn’t a child anymore; he could handle a little embarrassment.

“No reason,” Steve said and his expression was so earnest that Tony felt a flicker of hope. “You should never change.”

“Thank you.”

Neither of them had looked away for a while, the air between them growing thick. When Tony hollowed his cheeks around his straw again, Steve’s gaze followed the movement.

“Well, tonight has been a disaster from start to finish,” Tony said, letting his tongue wet his bottom lip just to see Steve’s eyes fall there. “Maybe we can redeem it?”

“I’d like to think so,” Steve said, eyes darkening, “because I’m definitely not finished yet.”

(requested by @thequirkybookaholic from this list of short au prompts) 

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 4 | " BREWING A SCHEME "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 1.5k

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @stxrryemxlys

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The evening was getting more vivacious as several eligibles twirl around the dance floor not once, but multiple times now; some ladies with different men, as some with the same ones they initially danced with.

The young lord with a hearty appetite approaches his best friend who is sitting alone on the large couch by the lobby. “Where’ve you been? I thought you ran away to the garden with some man.” Sunoo softly chuckles as he plops down beside Y/n with a table napkin in hand. The young miss had her head hung low when he approached her so it took him a while to notice her flushed cheeks and soft sniffles.

“Hey there, come now. What's wrong?”

“Am I that unattractive, Sunoo?” The boy gulps down at her when she suddenly turns to him with a frown. His lips form into that of a slight smile as he carries the napkin towards her flushed cheeks, gently wiping off the tears that stream down her face. He swears internally at the thought that someone seemingly insulted her for her insecurities to pop out again. Sunoo could only presume it was his doltish brother’s doing this time.

“Where is this suddenly coming from, Y/n?”

She sniffs heavily. “Jungwon-”

“That dimbo-”

“we were dancing when he said my eyes were beautiful. But it wasn't long until he excused himself, quickly rushed out and disposed of me like an old, useless book lying on the library floor. I'm completely certain I never said anything wrong for him to suddenly act like that.” Sunoo can only sigh in exasperation while rubbing the corseted back of his very dear friend.

“Am I horrifying?” Her bottom lip juts out as she huffs out a long, dragging sigh. Sunoo’s eyebrows furrow in fume.

“Hey, don’t say that! If you are, then Lord Heeseung wouldn’t probably dance with you out there like you’re his coveted treasure. But of course, he looks at every woman he’s ever acquired like that.”

“He was very charming, though. But whoever wants to be another trophy in his snobby rack of possessions anyway?”

“Oh! Every woman in the ton, babe.” The two rolls their eyes and share a teasing laugh afterwards.

“Sorry about my brother. He's just plain stupid.” Sunoo rests his head on the young miss’ lap. Her hand hovers above him as her flimsy fingers softly rake his luscious locks, fingertips gradually glazing his scalp with the softest, careful touch he's ever felt.

“It's so frustrating, you know? He’d look at you with a smile and the next, he frowns. He’d say you're beautiful and the next, he acts like you're hideous. He'd talk to you nicely like he's very fond of you and then in a split second, he shifts into a complete asshole. No offense.”

“Now that's one way to word it! He's got his brain in a rust. Mother would sometimes think about shaking his head to get it up and running.”

“How about we put on a good show?” The two jolt from their seats and quickly turn to the owner of the baritonal voice. Sunoo stands up in a jiff followed by Y/n, as they curtsy in sync. “Your Grace.”

“Please, Lord Sunghoon will do-”

“Your Grace! How lovely, dear, would you be kind enough to grace our floor with your enchanting waltz?"

The three bows affront the Queen who abruptly appears from one of the arched entrances. With a carefully coiffed beehive and shiny Swarovski jewels draping around the updo, Sunoo almost gasps out loud at the stunning sight that is the Queen.

"I’d be happy to oblige, Your Highness." The marquess turns to the young miss with a raised brow. “My lady?”

Y/n’s eyes widens at the sudden request. The Queen looks at her in anticipation. “Oh! Uh.. y-yeah...”

Sunoo subtly nudges her from the back and she was quick enough to clear her throat and redeem herself. “I mean, yes, Your Grace. It’d be a pleasure to dance with you.” She extends her hand for the very fine marquess only to have the back of her palm softly kissed by the ever handsome lad. “The pleasure’s entirely mine, my lady.”

He gently pulls her from her fingers and soon enough, they find themselves dancing alone gracefully on the Royal Court as the ton circles around them with amused whispers and mouths ajar, caught in the depths of such awestruck sight.

The lad has his hand resting politely on the slightly arched back of the lass, with the other hand carefully gripping hers as they sway and twirl in elegant motions along the grand tune from the pianoforte. With a close-hold stance, it is without a doubt that the two can feel each other's breaths of tension and agitation.

“Are you okay? You're downright flushed, it's starting to concern me. Is it perhaps the corset you're wearing?” Sunghoon whispers against the space almost enclosing them. She fixes her gaze upon the mole on his nose bridge and wonders how someone can possibly look this ethereal even with all these on random parts of the face.

“Miss Park,” He steals her attention from the pretty dots on his magnificent face that resulted in her now fixing her gaze upon the marquess’ eye-piercing stare. “are you alright?”

“Uh-huh.” She smiles naturally as if she didn't almost gag from anxiety a few moments ago. Despite the obvious lie, the young miss earns a soft chuckle from the gentleman. “They don't call me the lie-detector for nothing, Miss Park. Your shaky breaths against my presence is enough proof that you're not at ease. Might I add, you cannot even look straight into my eyes for more than three seconds.” He chuckles lightly.

“It's just… I’m just…” She shudders.

“Let's go get some air now, shall we?” It was very timely that the music ended when the marquess suggested a change of scenery. The crowd applauded at the spectacular performance the two had put on and it wasn't for long when everyone joined in the center of the hall to dance once more.

His other hand steadies on Y/n’s back while the other is holding her hand as he carefully avoids the ton's eyes. The ton swarms the floor and Sunghoon takes it as a perfect timing to sneak out the royal court and out in the open.

What they didn't know is that one person caught them; and he was just standing at the very corner of the room cautiously eyeing them the entire time with an obnoxious, deafening regret swallowing him from his gut.

Under the incandescent gleam of the chandeliers stands Yang Jungwon, a boy who just had his heart crushed by the mere sight of torture for his soul and a brainrotting guilt for giving away the woman to not just an apparent threat with a face that screams trouble, but to an all-knowing, remarkable snake who perfectly knows how to play his cards right.

The moment they step foot on the grassy lawn across the royal staircase, the two continuously huff out exhales of reliefs and share a rather boisterous laugh afterwards.

“Didn't think we'd get past them, did you?” Sunghoon, with both hands on his waist, huffs out shaky breaths while looking at the almost helpless miss who’s now wiping her forehead with the back of her thumb.

Sunghoon fishes out a small piece of cloth from his pocket and walks closer Y/n leaving the two a tiny gap of distance. “May I?” He offers to which Y/n responds with a light nod. He gently taps her forehead from the sweat of anxiousness and the sneaking out they did a while back.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He twitches his head to get a good view of her face and before he knew it, he was locking his eyes on hers.

“Forgive me, it's just, your eyes, they're... divine. I’m completely charmed.” Y/n blinks twice at the pithy remark from the favorable marquess. Almost all thoughts of her dearest lord vanished at that striking remark from another fine nobleman.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Y/n’s brows furrowed in confusion. “the idea of putting on a good show?”

“I thought we just did?” She questions.

“Not the dance. I meant we should play pretend. Only if you wish to, of course.”

“Pardon me, Your Grace, but I don't think I’m catching up.”

Sunghoon almost sighs in frustration but quickly stifles it with a chuckle. “Forgive me for eavesdropping back there but I couldn't help myself. A chap gave you a heartbreak?”

“A longtime crush that I couldn't ever acquire attention from let alone a good moment.” Sunghoon lets out an amused smile with a jerked brow.

“Let's play a game.” He snaps. “Two witches brew a scheme to make the perfect concoction of envy. Whoever indulges the contents will either conceal their long-hidden truth, or swallow it down until all there's left is nothing but void. What do you say?” Sunghoon playfully smirks at the young miss who seems very impressed with the whole ploy.

“I’d say cheers to that!”

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ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021