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preyforthewicked · 2 years ago

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Appendix I: Journal Entries

November 19, 2010

2:52 Right now, I just feel like screaming and crying and yelling and hitting something. I don’t feel like myself. God.

3:08 Why does it seem like nothing is going for me today? Nothing particularly bad has happened. I just feel so…strange.

November 22, 2010

7:58 Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

8:49 "Tears streamed down Alexandra's face, but Jay felt no sympathy. He hardly felt feelings for anything anymore."

December 28, 2010

9:21 Wooooooow. I woke up feeling so disoriented this morning. Like, I almost didn’t remember where I was, kind of disoriented. Oh man. Phew, but it’s all better now I suppose. I still feel kind of weird. I’m almost positive it’s because of the dream I had, but for the life of me I can’t remember it ): Ah well.

*Sigh* Time to jump back on this horse, I guess. Grammar and Comp, here I come! *trips and falls into puddle of mud*

12:23 That disoriented feeling I was talking about earlier? Yeah. Still here. I feel like I’m in a limbo-funk or something. I seriously do not know what to feel. Or even what I might be feeling. I’m not majorly pissed, or sad, or happy, or anything. It’s really like…listless. Just uninterested in everything. :/

I feel like lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling until I fall asleep. Or don’t.

February 22, 2012

12:37 Nothing is real. Nothing is permanent.

February 26, 2012

12:01 I’m slipping through the cracks in the sidewalk of my mind.

3:28 I feel empty all of the sudden.

Waking up in four hours or so. Woo.

6:19 Why can’t I fall asleep? I can see the sun rising :l What is wrong with me?

9:41 So apparently I fell asleep for around half an hour between 6:20 and 6:50 and continued to have trouble falling back asleep after that. Between 7 and 9:20 (when I was to wake up, which I did) I think I was worried I wouldn’t hear my alarm because I woke up every few chunks of minutes to check the time. It was especially focused and bad from around 8 to 9:20. This is a little ridiculous. So I got...three very interrupted hours of sleep last night. Great. Oh well. I knew there would be consequences, but I didn’t think I’d be having trouble falling asleep until 7 when the sun was pretty high already! Gar. My mind bothers me sometimes. I don’t even know what it was that was keeping me awake. I mean sure some of the movies we watched had scary bits in them, but I wasn’t afraid of that (see earlier journal post). Sigh. At least I’ll be tired enough to fall asleep nice and early tonight cause there’s no way I can get a nap in today.

3:06 Soooo...tired... But...must resist...complaining...

8:01 Can I just sleep forever?

March 9, 2012

2:32 Why am I feeling so gosh darn tired? I got 9 hours of sleep last night and more the nights before. Am I anemic? Or is this just some weird phase? Am I not sleeping well cause of weird dreams I’ve been having? (bleeding fingernails)

June 20, 2012

12:30 And thus begins day three of my days off. So what did I do? I started cleaning. On my boredom scale, that’s how you tell it’s really bad. When I simply start cleaning practically automatically, it’s bad. Just to occupy myself with something that is worth my time. But now that I’m done with what I’m not too lazy to do, I’m sitting here in front of my computer playing word games and feeling pretty low of myself. I don’t know and I don’t know why. I almost feel like a burden today. It’s days like these I wish I could sink into the shadows and disappear for a little while. For everyone to forget me for a bit and act as if I didn’t exist. Not that I died, however, but that I had merely never existed.

July 18, 2012

4:10 for some reason I can't really fall asleep. I watched Crazy Stupid Love and The Help. Good movies. But I'm still not tired.

In another life, I think I'd be an insecure, self-harming prostitute. That is, if I didn't have God or a great family that supports me.

In another life. Like an opposite reality.

Sometimes I really wish I could turn my mind off. I wish I had a sleep on switch and it could just slice through the connection between me and the world for a few hours. Leave me to my wanderings.

July 23, 2012

1:13 I just wrote my Last Will and Testament. And the songs I want them to play at my funeral. Does that make me sick or good for preparing? I mean, it could happen tomorrow.

Shrugs. It’s written. At least there will be something to go off of if it does happen within the year.

February 18, 2013

2:05 Maybe I should just stop talking altogether. Perhaps people would like me better.

February 25, 2013

12:21 Sometimes I wish I could replay memories in my head like VHS tapes. Whenever I want. And I can record over the bad ones with good memories, cause some don't deserve to be remembered.

March 7, 2013

4:37 No one should even be alive at this hour. So why am I?

4:40 It's times like these when I wonder how many people are out driving around. Maybe I should try it sometime. Just cruise around listening to music at the pre-crack of dawn.

March 12, 2013

12:46 Last night I woke up several times although I only remember three specific times: 3, 6, and 8. I knew it would happen and yet I still almost cried when 6 came around. Today was certainly trying. A few times during the afternoon all I wanted to do was take a nap. And now I'm wide-awake. Why you do this to me, body? Now that I can sleep, why won't I?

March 15, 2013

6:02 Everyone dies at the end of their own story.

7:50 Why is it when I want people to see me I feel I have to hurt myself to make that happen?

March 30, 2013

3:12 I can’t go on Facebook today because there are so many Peru posts and it hurts my heart. It makes me happy to see all those people going to change their lives, but the hurt outweighs the happiness…

April 12, 2013

1:11 feeling pretty low of myself right now, kind of for no reason. :l

Sometimes I wonder, am I bipolar?

August 10, 2013

2:35 LOTR obsessions. Yes.

School starts back up in two weeks. Crazy. Thirteen days till my birthday. Also crazy.

I feel weird today. Like a I just want to cry for no particular reason kind of weird. Hopefully hanging out with Rachel and Taylor tonight will help me be better.

December 15, 2013

5:55 It would probably be one of the worst ideas ever to leave me alone with alcohol, but isn’t that the case for everyone?

Isn’t it?

6:10 Dinner for one, tonight.

March 19, 2014

4:58 I hide my fears in the wrinkles hanging on the corners of your mouth,

hide the screams in the fingertips of your satin gloves;

I can never grow old.

I sewed my eyes shut with the threads I had used to create a memento for you, in order to block out the memories.

I forgot that they’re on the inside.

March 20, 2014

1:00 run me over, see if I care?

Fall out from beneath me, grate - what does it matter?

I like to hug the walls when I walk.

1:20 fall down the escalator - don't worry. It'll scrape you up at the bottom.

April 11, 2014

11:21 I haven't had one of these quiet worthless days in a while. I can't say I missed feeling this way.

April 19, 2014

10:15 What if I’m slowly losing myself? What if every day it gets worse and everyone thinks I’m just an asshole when this unknown disease inside is just killing me slowly?

July 2, 2014

2:11 Feels like falling down the up escalator.

July 5, 2014

5:03 Sometimes it doesn’t seem like my past ever actually happened to me. Sometimes, if I pretend hard enough, I can make myself believe that it didn’t, and that I read it in some book years ago. Opened, and shut. Begun and ended.

Finished.

August 3, 2014

8:17 Sometimes I wish I didn’t have my life. I wish I could float away like a leaf, land somewhere new, and start afresh. I suppose it’s cowardly to think something like that, when stuff gets complicated and tough or I’m having a particularly rough day and I Just want to run away from it for a bit.

September 6, 2014

11:53 You know what the worst part is? No one will ever be able to fully understand. No one. Ever. It’s such a specific situation, and one that’s so hard to explain in all the ways that it would need to be explained in order to be even remotely understood.

Most days I am strong, I know that my heart has healed and is healing due to God. But some days, some nights, it becomes a torment, the fractures in my heart. And I have no one to talk to about it. No one. It is all behind me, as far as anyone who kind of knows thinks. To admit that it’s presently tormenting me would mean I’ve been thinking about it and then that would mean trouble, blah blah…

God, I’ve prayed and prayed…take this burden away from me. I do not want it anymore. I do not. Want. It. It is a tumor, a parasite that latches onto my most painful wounds and sucks the joy away, leeching my happiness and well-being. I hate having these demons. I don’t want them. I don’t deserve them.

God…someone…please…

This is so awful, being in this place.

October 27, 2014

10:21 wake me up when the semester ends

November 21, 2014

3:24 I often get this recurring image of myself if I were to fall down the stairs or get hit by a car, or you know, something of the like, and I see myself simply lying there (obviously if I had been knocked out, this would be the case) silently in strange acceptance. Not attempting to get up, even if I was honestly more or less okay. A few days ago, I had this thought that I was walking through campus and stepped on a nail that went straight through the sole of my shoe and directly into my foot (this was brought on by the realization that the soles of my shoes were worn so incredibly thin they'd probably start busting open just by walking soon) and I just frowned deeply at the now-gushing wound, pulled out my cell to call campo, and told them quickly but calmly that I probably needed to be picked up and taken to the hospital. No tears. No curses. Just odd acceptance.

January 11, 2015

8:26 This morning I woke up and just felt wrong. I can’t say why. Perhaps it was a dream I had, but don’t remember.

March 18, 2015

11:52 My occasional

ponderance of suicide

is just Jesus

calling me home.

April 2, 2015

12:28 can I be a stranger for a day? I don't want to be me right now.

April 7, 2015

9:25

The Pit

Braid a rope of I-Love-You's,

fasten it to futility.

The streetlights don't reach down here -

neither does your hope.

June 21, 2015

12:54 I want to cry and vomit all at once.

July 2, 2015

3:34 She poured gasoline down her throat and set her lips aflame.

July 10, 2015

8:34 Railings on skyscrapers

contain me,

animal

suffocated skin wrap.

Can I breathe in the sky?

Can I jump for my life?

August 27, 2015

12:13 Sometimes I wish things could go back to being how they used to be, a long long time ago, because I'm afraid they'll never be that good again.

September 15, 2015

4:13 Sometimes I think

about suicide.

How would I do it?

Drowning, hanging,

fire – no.

maybe an overdose?

I don’t care if

you think me

a coward.

But if I'm gone

who will feed the dog?

October 1, 2015

10:16

Who am I?

Well,

Really,

It depends on who you ask.

My parents, cousins, friends

Would all say different things.

She's intelligent; sweet; funny; silly;

Hardworking; faithful; reliable.

Who is that person?

Surely that's not me?

They'd say much different things

If they could glimpse the pit

Of my mind.

She's cynical, they'd say.

She's awful, lonesome, and morbid.

Who wants to be me?

February 16, 2016

9:21 I run the water till it

prickles my finger skin pink,

pooling it in leather palms

to scald my face. Nails

curl under useless epidermis,

slough off cheeks, nose,

and flat lips. What’s etched

in the bone of my brow?

Loser?

February 17, 2016

11:18 Fling yourself from the highest window

Will you recognize your soul better in pieces?

Smile

at the blood

in your shoes

and know

they’ll never understand

where you’ve been.

September 27, 2016

12:38

Undiluted bleach purifies

or so it says.

Slug back a gulp -

no, two - on a prayer

that the convictions

coating your insides

will strip away.

Assess your sins anew -

vomit your guilts,

your lusts by the bowlful.

The cleansing burns

through your filth.

Will you become

refined? Or hope to God

it kills you first?

October 1, 2016

7:45

Never again will your fingers

press into the flesh of my hip

to mold me without permission.

My skin, living fabric fastened

taut over muscle and bone,

has shed the indelible impressions

of your fingerprints, the dead cells

of influence peppering my pores.

October 25, 2017

9:10 am

Jealousy

An atomic bomb in my gut

Nowhere for the gases

To escape, except to seep

Into my intestines.

An Adrenaline shot

In all four corners

Of my heart renders me

Trembling, an electrocuted

Trout left to gasp naked

And homeless beside you.

Reach out and conduct me.

Please

Conduct this from me

And slaughter it yourself

Before I kill me instead.

December 12, 2017

9:33 p

Nostalgia is

Three monsters wearing

Bunny masks and perfume

To cover over foul stench

And face. Two soothe,

Welcome me by way of

Lovely voices, while the third

Behind my back and just

Out of earshot grinds away at

The knife. Sometimes he

Leaves it dull. Sometimes

It is red hot sharp, ringing

Still from the stone. The

Funny thing is, I'm the one

Who offers up my arm

As he ready creeps close.

May 22, 2019

4:32 God, I feel so overwhelmed. I am so profoundly not satisfied with life

I hate feeling the way I do right now. I feel like I’m drowning and occasionally I latch on to something that keeps my head above the water for a minute – I distract myself, fall into Flow, talk to someone about non-existential things, cuddle deliberately with my cats, participate in Jiu Jitsu, play an engaging video game – but when that life raft disintegrates moments later, I am left to tread, already exhausted beyond my means. This is too much. I feel like a violently swinging trapeze artist, flinging themselves from one side of the circus to the other, high highs and lows so low as to plummet to the circus floor in an instant of slippery fingers. Is this what manic depression feels like? Is that what this is?

September 3, 2020

8:09

World Grows Dark

When I close my eyes

Then I understand

How the world grows dark

Again

And the shaking in my hands won’t stop

Everything is going wrong

The sun is out but I can’t see

All the gifts right in front of me

Please tell me where can I go from here

This journey’s lonely and there’s so much fear

My lying eyes aren’t on my side

And my mind has no place to hide

When I close my eyes

I wish I could feel

the warmth of a smile

Then maybe I’d be healed

For good

But When I close my eyes

I still understand

How the world grows dark

Again

Is this real or in my head?

Someone please stop me I think god’s

Dead

October 8, 2020

If I give me space to think

Then I think I probably

Shouldn't be alive

My suicide would be considerate.

I’d never do it, of course.

But if I did

Those who had to clean me up

Wouldn’t be bothered much.

No blood, fully clothed

Hopefully smiling

Though some things you can’t

Plan too hard for.

I want it to be freedom.

I want it to be that

Ultimate bliss.

That bliss I've had only once

In my waking life,

The day I met my husband.

But even that’s too much

To ask for

At the end.

At the end, then,

I can’t help but be

The burden I've always felt

I was.

December 11, 2020

11:19

My black hole welcomes me back

Once a month

vision narrows

Red lights abound

Next to nothing.

I’d rather just be

Nothing.

#preyforthewicked #sexualabuse #autobiography

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 4 years ago

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tuesday again 1/26/21

i always feel like i should do something special for the last tuesday of a month but i never know what that thing should be

listening my girlfriend is a witch, by october country. they’re from california, this was released in 1968, and song sounds like it and exactly like the album cover art. wiki says this band is “folk rock” but i don’t know that i quite agree with that? i can hear a surf rock influence, but there’s also a disco sort of underline? as always please remember i am partially deaf and my musical opinions should be taken with a full pound of salt.

i’m not on tiktok bc i’m old and it feels precisely tailored to eat up all of my time. my sister and my best friend ARE on tiktok and they send me a carefully curated selection (many a day) of the “best” ones. this song has been on a bunch of em

youtube

reading absolutely jack shit bc i have a no-fic-rec policy for the reading section

watching blue submarine no. 6. i have a lot of conflicting feelings about this. let’s get the good shit out of the way- postapoc sea setting is CANDY to me. good ship design. every submariner i have ever met has just been the weirdest fuckin person and i think that’s carried through here very well. there’s some fun military maneuvers here that are more complex than your typical anime battle scenes and that’s neat. there’s a sad disheveled anime boy i think is nice to look at. the very early CG has a charming amount of jank to it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiOgsBagzyw

navy go brrrr

the bad- the plot is tenuous to nonexistent. the ending feels cheap, rushed, and unearned. i don't know if i’m missing some stuff, culturally- it feels like there are parallels being made here to japanese submariners in wwii and the pacific theater but i don’t know bc i’m a dumb american and nobody seems to have looked at this obscure four-episode OVA with a critical historical lens.

the very ugly- the creature design is initially interesting but after ten seconds you’re like “whoa hey this tribal society of mutated beast people is actually quite racist” and it does not get better throughout the series. the lead enemy admiral is an infantile shark dog man with dreadlocks. the special lady sea creature people are just tits out all of the time and there’s a very uncomfy scene with them that i don’t know how to feel about but wish it were trigger warned in some fashion.

further sidebar: why must we be either naked or in a skin-tight suit to pilot a mech when our male counterpart gets to wear a normal ass flight suit. why does anime do this (i know why but like. a rhetorical why).

playing pc still broken (upside down smiley face emoji here) so i’ve been combing through my phone like “wtf is in here, what did i buy and mean to play” and the answer is 2018′s Heaven Will Be Mine, also here on Steam.

Heaven Will Be Mine is a queer science fiction mecha visual novel from the creators of queer cult horror visual novel We Know The Devil, about joyriding mecha, kissing your enemies, and fighting gravity’s pull. Follow three women piloting giant robots in the last days of an alternate 1980s space program fighting for humanity’s future—or ditching their jobs to make out with each other instead.

this? this is candy to me. this is a good ass video game. i played through one route last night and i cried. i cannot talk about any of it without major emotional spoilers.

making i was going to say this is a fallow week bc have been too fucking busy to make anything, but then i remembered a thing i’ve been meaning to do that took like ten minutes.

as previously stated, i haven’t done shit this week other than pull my amaryllis out of hibernation(feels a little spongy, concerning) and feed my sourdough. i always feel really bad when i have to throw out sourdough starter, so i’m going to dry the discard and see what happens in like a year? question mark? you’re really supposed to dry the fed, very alive starter but i don’t want to feed it twice this week and this is a very low-stakes experiment. i suspect, when/if i revive the dried discard, it will take much longer with more feedings to become an active healthy thing again but we’ll see! do not stay tuned to this one, PLEASE change your dial.

no pics bc it’s just sludgy dough on parchment paper on a cookie sheet

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #guess what i'm awake and very tired and i will not remember to post this in the morning

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martyrsex · 2 years ago

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JASON TODDxREADER. (again.)

A/N: Yes. I posted my first fic three days ago. Today I'm posting the third fic. A monster was born. Anyway, Dick and Tim are mentioned in this. As a happy family, for once.

summary: Jason has a secret and he wants to tell reader. Unfortunately, nobody else can know.

warnings: none, besides some very light indication of jason and reader doing the dirty ;)

Secrets

Jason opened the door of their shared apartment, expecting all the lights turned off. For his surprise, she was in the kitchen. Positioning his helmet in the counter, he asked;

"What are you doing awake? Sun's rising."

"Was worried about you." She sipped her coffee and got up from the chair, starting to make one cup for him.

His smile grew, glad with how she knew him. That was one of the things he adored the most about her; she knows everything he needs - previously. Jason doesn't need to say a word.

But there's one thing he will have to say, eventually.

She placed his coffee on the table, and they enjoyed the silence. This is the reason he keeps going on - the small moments he can share with the people he love. With her. Jason remembers then the discussion he had with Tim.

"You should tell her, Jason." His brother had just solved a huge case they were working on. The relief of it, and the sure nobody got hurt in the process made him and Tim hang out to celebrate. With all that happened between them, he never imagined the third Robin would be the one he'd choose to talk about this.

"I know. But I'm... I'm scared I'll ruin it all."

"Firstly, I'm so not the person to talk about this, since I myself am very... inconsistent in the romantic aspects. But, I guess it's time to tell her. Before, you know, you lose her."

Fuck no. Jason would not let that happen. He wasn't planing on saying the phrase now, but Tim's right. Jason would never admit to him, though.

"Jay, why are you staring? There's something in my face?" Her hand tries to clean the corner of her mouth, unaware it was actually clean. A warm feeling in his chest shows just how much he finds her lovely.

"There's nothing there, princess. It's just... I've got something to tell you."

She frows. "What is it?" He can't contain a smile.

"But it's a secret, you can't tell anyone." His tone is soft, playful.

"I like secrets, I won't tell. Spill it out!" There, that smile he adored. Suddenly, saying those words seems easy. There's really no reason to risk losing time. Yeah, they are dating for just some months, and he never really said this to anyone besides his mom, but, it feels right. Jason is sure about this; he's sure about her. He would die for her and fight for her, but most importantly; he would live - happy - for her.

"I love you."

•••

Her head is in the curve of his neck. Her exposed skin assures him he ruined nothing - besides her underwear; and he promised to buy a new pair the next day.

Suddenly, her face appeares in his line of sight.

He chuckles, "Haven't I tired you enough for you to sleep?"

"Jay," - her nails play with his hair, and he sighs, closing his eyes - "why you loving me is a secret?"

Jason's eyes snap open again. "It is not."

"But-"

"Everyone knows I love you, they just don't need to know I said it."

"Why?" His cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Bet with Dick. I wouldn't say it before the 6th month anniversary. I just lost." Her eyes roll, faking irritation; but he can see the corner of her lips going up.

#jason todd #jason todd reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfiction #tim drake #tim is a good brother!#so is richard!#jason todd deserves better #dick grayson

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sopebubbles · 3 years ago

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I’m sad it’s over but also my heart 😌💖

It was all so perfect the last two chapters healed my soul cleared my acne and watered my crops

And I can’t stop imagining Jimin at the concert the next day just being like ARMY I have a baby girl mochi and army all referring to her as baby Mochi everytime a photo is posted by one of the guys even when Bora is like teenage and like jimin posting a pic on twitter or insta that night and tagging James cordon as a joke with the caption like “I’m papa mochi now” or something 😭💖💖💖 ugh it’s even cuter bc irl they’ve been open about wanting kids and they all deserve this life so much 😭💖

A/n: I debated about adding something about this in the last chapter, but I didn't want it to be too much. But since people wanted it, here it is!

Master list

Your eyes flutter open, surprised to see the sun flooding into your hospital room. You'd only had to wake up once in the night to feed Bora, and you had wanted so badly to stay awake, gazing at her for eternity, but your body simply couldn't do it. Your eyes immediately look to the empty bassinet beside you, your eyes opening in horror, only to look to your side and find your precious newborn in the arms of Jimin.

"What a beautiful sight," you smile over the pair of them.

Jimin looks up from her tiny face to your sleepy one with a smile so bright it almost beats the sun for the strongest light in the room. "We were hoping you could sleep a little more. I didn't want to wake you."

"Is she hungry?" You push yourself up in the hospital bed, using the remote to angle the back up. "If she's hungry, it's my job to wake up."

"Yeah, I guess she is," Jimin admits, standing to carry her over to you. He carefully transfers her to your arms. You waste no time in undoing your clothing to expose your breast to feed Bora. Jimin turns around with a slight blush on his cheeks and clears his throat.

"Jimin," you say with a tease in your voice as Bora latches onto you, "if you're serious about us and sticking around, you're going to have to get over this awkward part."

Jimin snickers, still a little shy, so he doesn't turn to face you just yet. "I am serious! Dead serious. It's just that you and I haven't seen each other like that, and I didn't know if you would want me to. See you, I mean."

"Jimin, it's fine. I'm just feeding Bora. I'll have to do this like 20 times a day, so we might as well just get used to it."

"Right, okay," Jimin says but still doesn't turn around, and you just shake your head, silently laughing at his bashfulness. "Uh, Jeongguk is on his way. Some of the others wanted to stop by, too, but I told them I'd have to ask you."

"That's fine. But they don't have to come. I know you guys are busy today. And you don't have to feel bad about going when it's time to go, either, baby. We'll just be here."

"I wanna be here. But I'll go when Namjoon drags me away," Jimin grins, finally facing you. He watches you both happily, feeling an almost surreal satisfaction, seeing you hold your child. "I stayed up most of the night watching her," he confesses, "watching both of you."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. And you know what I noticed?" Jimin sits on the edge of your bed, as if he has some great secret to divulge.

"What?" You're barely listening, distractedly looking down at Bora's face.

"I think I was wrong before about Mochi having Guk's nose. I think she has your nose."

You crack a smile and look closely, trying to remember exactly what your own nose looks like as you examine hers. "That would certainly be very convenient," you mumble.

A couple of minutes after Bora finishes her first breakfast, Jeongguk arrives, looking a little tired but more excited and happy than you've ever seen him before.

"How's everyone this morning?" Guk asks as he approaches Jimin holding his daughter.

"She's perfect," Jimin beams.

"Where's Yn?" Jeongguk asks as Jimin transfers possession of the infant to the other man.

"She's just in the bathroom. The guys are already on their way, so she said she wanted to look presentable."

"Speaking of, you look exhausted. Was last night terrible?" Guk wonders before pulling Bora closer to him and dipping his head to smell the top of hers. He found that so addictive.

"No. She slept…well, like a baby. She only woke up once. It wasn't a big deal. I just…couldn't take my eyes off of her. I didn't want to close my eyes," Jimin admits.

Jeongguk looks down into Bora's alert chocolate eyes. "Yeah, I get that."

"Let me hold my niece!" Taehyung demands the moment he walks into your room a little while later. He's used his long legs to get ahead of Hoseok and Yoongi so he could be the first.

"Calm down," Jeongguk chuckles, turning to hand her over to his hyung. "Support her head."

"I know how to hold a baby," Taehyung mutters. "Held more babies than you ever will." All his features shift the moment he looks down at Bora's little face. His eyes open wide, and his smile does just the same. "Hello baby Bora! My name is V. But you can call me Uncle Taetae. I've been wanting to meet you for so long."

Hoseok's smile is just as big as he catches the man taking to his niece. "Don't hog her, Taehyung-ah."

"Gimme a few minutes, sheesh," Taehyung complains as he goes to sit with the baby in his arms.

Finally, after some time passes and with enough begging from Hoseok, Taehyung passed the little girl onto her other uncles. The next in line promises to make sure she's always well dressed, and Yoongi whispers a few words of approval before handing her to Jin. The eldest assures her that her cousins can't wait to meet her before eventually giving her over to Namjoon. The leader seems to examine her for a long time, not saying much as he cradles her gently against his chest. Although she'd grown sleepy between Jeongguk's arms and Seokjin's, she's now alert again, looking back up at Namjoon while everyone watches the pair.

"You're going to grow up to be a very special girl, aren't you, Bora?" he says finally, so tenderly, as if he's forgotten anyone else was even there.

Namjoon did eventually have to drag Jimin away from the two of you. There was an edge of excitement that carried them all through rehearsal, sound check and into the second night performance of Muster. Everyone in the stadium can feel their energy is even greater than the night before, but it isn't until they reach the encore that they reveal to the crowd the reason for their excitement.

"Army, did you have fun tonight?" J-Hope asks the crowd, receiving ecstatic screams in response.

"Muster has always been very special to us," Namjoon says, pulling out his ear piece. "It's our chance to celebrate our anniversary with you and to do something special for ARMY. This year has been extra special. You wanna tell them why, Jimin?"

All the boys look to Jimin as the huge smile that has been on his face all night seems to grow even more. "Muster is about us getting to meet with ARMY, and last night, the youngest member of ARMY arrived. Baby Mochi was born last night!" Jimin announces, covering his face and doubling over as he begins to tear up from sheer joy. The fans cheer in response, yelling questions, wanting to know if Mochi is a boy or girl, and what her name is.

"Ah, Jimin-ah, Mochi has a name now," Jin reminds him.

"That’s right," Jimin remembers. "A very special name for a very special little girl. Why don't you tell them her name, Jeonggukkie?"

Jeongguk smiles a bright, bunny smile as he looks back at Jimin. "Jimin-ssi, her name is Bora." ARMY cheers happily in response, imagining how cute Bora must be with all of them.

"That's it. Bora." Taehyung sighs. "Bora is a very lucky girl because she has all of you to look up to. All of ARMY. We purple you. So help us sing Bora's favorite song," Taehyung requests as the melody to Mikrokosmos begins.

As Jimin exits the stage that night, he can't seem to get his equipment off fast enough. He won't even bother to change before getting in the car with Junghoon and getting back to his girls as fast as possible. There's a part of him that was a little worried after they announced the birth in stage that there would be a lot of attention at the hospital, and he wants to be there to protect you and help you. But a much bigger part of him simply can't wait to have both of you in his arms again.

Taglist: @halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @minclangyyy @yoongiofmine @yonkimint @wholockian1 @cbgdoll @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @armytwist @hwayne2294 @kazufuyusluv @n4mina @juju-227592 @mickmoon @yoongicenterofmyuniverse @likeshatteredrainbowglass @softforpj @chimchimsauce @arikimtanapon @outro-kook @ellesalazar @somewhereinthestarss @cscam @svgahigh @defcv28 @shydestinyyouth @bbl32 @eternally-writing-main @craftymoonchaos @chimchimmarie @sweetcheeksdna @lovelytaes-blog @mwitsmejk @cursedcursives @ncizen @elliegrace1999tvd @miffy1997 @borahae-reads @mattsunsupremacy @brit97 @heyjiminnie @natalie-rdr @lovergirl1316 @agustpark @lalisala @blueeyedlove-blog1

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts dad au #jimin fluff #jimin dad au #jungkook dad au #bts idol au #serendipity drabble

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cellodoll · 2 years ago

Text

Hi 👋

So my friend Michael said I should post my writing on here so I'm gonna post a fic I wrote about Adam having nightmares. Enjoy ❤️

It had become a natural occurrence at this point. It's why he didn't want to sleep unless he wanted to be scared straight out of it.

Adam had been struggling with nightmares for as long as he could remember. That's why he always looked so tired. Running off mostly sugar. His diet wasn't the best but hell, it kept him awake. He was grateful enough for that.

This particular night though he guessed Jonah had been having nightmares just like he was. Since he ended up being pulled into the backseat and slept on. Which meant he wouldn't be able to move for a while.

He sighed as he wrapped his arms around Jonah. He was.. awfully warm..

He could feel his eyes dropping and his breathing start to calm as he fell asleep. His first mistake of the night.

Before he knew it they were starting again.. A face of some man on a TV he didn't even know.. Let alone remember.. Yet the man insisted he knew him very well.. Flashing agonizingly bright images at him in black and white.. Sometimes even the occasional neon red.. The lights hurt his eyes so badly and there was nothing he could do to tell him to stop.. He couldn't speak.. He couldn't move.. Tears started to flow from his eyes..

Do you understand?

No he didn't. He didn't understand any of this. Why was this happening to him? What did HE do?

What did you do?

He doesn't know! He's never known!

Adam.

He shouldn't have fallen asleep.

ADAM!!!

Adam's eyes flew open quickly as he gasped. He felt a tightness on his shoulders as he looked around frantically, his eyes soon landing on a very awake Jonah gripping him. He must've been trying to shake him awake.

"Adam! What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"W-What the hell are you talking about?"

"You started sobbing in your sleep.. It was so loud it woke me up.."

Adam felt a little guilty. He really shouldn't have fallen asleep.

"..Sorry I didn't-"

"Adam, if something's wrong you need to tell me.."

Adam paused for a second. How the hell would he even explain it? How this happened every time he fell asleep. The man on the tv. The pictures of people he didn't know. How much the brightness of the tv hurt his eyes and even when he closed them it was like his eyelids were transparent..

"Jonah.. I.."

He got a lump in his throat. Tears started to come from his eyes again as he tried to hold them back.

There was silence between the two, until Jonah held Adam close and pressed his face against his chest.

"If you need to cry that's okay.."

Adam started bawling at those words. Gripping the back of Jonah's jacket as he sobbed. Jonah shushed him and rubbed his back telling him to let it all out. He needed this..

For once him having a nightmare turned out to be a good thing..

#tmc #mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #tmc adam murray #tmc jonah #you can tag this as ship or whatever #this is my first time posting my writing on here hehe hope you like ❤️

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bonnymori · 3 years ago

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

#itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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renjuseyo · 4 years ago

Note

I'm the one that ask about poly. I want to make request now if you're okay with it about male reader jihoon and seungcheol. Seungcheol being jealous when reader babied jihoon even though Seungcheol get it most of the time. While jihoon hate it when reader doing that but only whine and do nothing at all. Reader didn't stop because he know Jihoon enjoy it and also watching Seungcheol pouting and making a fuss is one of his entertainment.

pay attention to me ; s.coups & woozi

group: seventeen

pairing: choi seungcheol / lee jihoon / reader (male)

synopsis: just because seungcheol’s dating you two doesn’t make him less jealous when you direct your attention to jihoon, even if he always receives your pampering.

genre: fluff

i hope you liked this anon! i think this is a very cute prompt, and i had fun playing with jicheol’s dynamics. i kind of lost inspo if you couldn’t tell though lol... anyways, feedback is always appreciated!! ^^

age order goes as: seungcheol > reader > jihoon

jihoon: i won’t be home until late, so don’t wait up for me [11:58 PM]

that was sent to you and seungcheol four hours ago. seeing how seungcheol had gotten off work at a decent time (if you consider ten-thirty decent) compared to usual, you had assumed it would be the same for jihoon, too. apparently not.

normally, by the time the clock strikes three am, you would be fast asleep, squished between seungcheol and jihoon. but instead, you’re parking your car outside of the pledis building, with seungcheol struggling to stay awake in the passenger seat. “you know, i could’ve driven here instead,” the older offers, yawning.

you roll your eyes, pushing your door open. “don’t be ridiculous. you can barely keep your eyes open, and you’ve worked all day. driving is the least i could do.”

you two step out of your car. after locking it, you begin walking towards the studio. the dim glow of the lamp posts and the faint twinkle of the stars are your only guides to the entryway, and you’re reminded once again just how late it is when you take in your surroundings. not a single sound can be heard, and the sky above you is blanketed black. what in the world is jihoon doing so late?

(well, there’s only one thing he could be doing this late. but most importantly, why? the members of seventeen are supposed to have the weekend off, so he has plenty of time to finish up any projects.)

once seungcheol unlocks the door, you two trudge inside, yawning. it takes a few minutes for you both to find jihoon’s studio, but it isn’t hard to spot. in the dark hallway, there’s only one room lit up, with a blue, fluorescent light splashing its walls. you glance at the small window, and just as you had suspected, your boyfriend is perched on his chair, hunched over his desktop.

luckily his door isn’t locked, so seungcheol twists the doorknob and pulls it open. the intrusion startles jihoon, evident by the way he flinches in his seat. when he spins around, you frown at the weary look on his face. the bright blue of his room highlights his eye bags, and you can see him struggling to stay awake. “what are you two doing here? you should be asleep,” he says.

you stride towards him, eyebrows furrowed. “that’s what we should be saying. do you have any idea what time it is? you’re supposed to be at home with us.” seungcheol nods in agreement, probably too tired to engage himself in a conversation.

“not until i finish this,” the younger protests, gesturing at his monitor. you peek behind him to look at what’s pulled up, and unsurprisingly, there’s a new project loaded up, probably one of the songs he’s working on for seventeen’s next album. “management said i have to get this done by next week.” he glances at the clock. “plus, it’s only three am. i’ve had less sleep.”

“by less sleep you mean no sleep,” you correct, propping your hands on your hips. you almost look the part of a disappointed parent. “that’s so bad for you, you know.”

“hoon, we have this weekend off. you can work on it then,” seungcheol replies, yawning. “come sleep with us. anyone with a pair of eyes can tell that you’re tired.”

jihoon rolls his eyes, but the yawn that leaves his throat is evidence enough. “i’m just fine. i already downed a whole bottle of soda, anyways.”

you tiredly trudge over to him, tugging at his sleeve. he raises a questioning eyebrow, but he doesn’t say anything as you drag him over to the couch by the wall. “hoonie, you’ve been up since six am. it’s not good for babies to sleep so late.”

he flushes at the implications, frowning. it ends up looking more like a pout, though, further proving your point. “i’m not a baby. you’re acting like one right now,” he protests.

you pull him onto the couch, arms trapping him. “but you’re the youngest, so you’re the baby. right, cheol?”

instead of agreeing with you, the oldest of you three pouts, flopping down beside you. “that’s no fair, (name). both hoonie and i worked today, so why are you only babying him?” he whines. for someone who’s supposed to be the oldest, he sure craves attention like a child.

you wave a dismissive hand, scooting over so seungcheol has more room. this causes you and jihoon to squish even closer together, and as discomforting as it is for all three of you, no one makes any moves to go to a more comfortable area. but then again, you three usually wound up like this more often than not, so you all stopped minding altogether. “hush, cheol. we cuddled for like, an hour when we were home. hoonie hasn’t had anyone to take care of him yet.”

jihoon rolls his eyes, pressed against your chest. “i’m right here, you know.” as much as he dislikes skinship, he’s too tired to move, and your embrace is comforting, though he’d never admit it.

you hum, snuggling closer to him. “lack of sleep makes babies grouchy. you can worry about your project tomorrow.”

“but-”

“don’t talk back to the adults,” you murmur, dozing off, pressing your forehead against his.

jihoon grumbles, though he doesn’t try to move. “this is crazy. i’m only a year younger than you and seungcheol-hyung. what do you mean don’t talk back to the adults?” he snorts.

when you don’t respond, he can only assume you’ve fallen asleep. he rolls his eyes and cranes his neck to peek at seungcheol. his eyes are also fluttering close, arms firmly wrapped around your waist. sometimes he wonders why you call him the baby when seungcheol is right there, constantly whining for your affection. if anything, he’s the baby of you three.

seeing how he can’t wriggle his way out of here (not that he would. drinking a whole bottle of coke-cola has done nothing to lift his drowsiness), he can do nothing but surrender to your clutches and lay limp in your arms. he closes his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, but hearing your voice in his head makes it a tad difficult.

you’re the youngest, so you’re the baby~

jihoon huffs, glaring at you, who’s oblivious to his piercing eyes. “says the one who always needs to hug something before he sleeps,” he quietly grumbles, poking your cheek.

to his surprise, the subtle motion is enough to stir you awake, and he feels himself heat up when your eyes flutter open. even when you’re tired, you still manage to look breathtaking. “go to sleep, hoonie,” you remind again before dozing back asleep.

when jihoon glances at the clock, the white, neon digits show him that it’s nearly four am. so this is what he ends up doing, but not because you told him to.

jihoon knows that despite your constant babying, you recognize that he’s a functioning adult who’s more than capable of handling responsibilities. even more than you, he might argue. you just have an affectionate nature and make it your sole duty to take care of everyone around you, even if they’re older than you, like seungcheol. plus, you just like calling those younger than you babies. if it weren’t for the fact that you’re only a few months older than him, he would’ve thought you were the oldest of you three.

though he claims to despise your affectionate nature, he’s thankful to have your presence, especially around him and seungcheol. he knows that as the leader of one of the biggest boy groups - both metaphorically and physically - the stress is undoubtedly more burdensome than the ones the other members have. he knows that seungcheol spends more time structuring himself as a strong leader and wise oldest member than as a twenty-five-year-old man who likes music and video-games. which is why he’s grateful that you’re around to give him the pampering and leisure he deserves, reminding him that it’s okay to be taken care of sometimes.

he isn’t mad that you direct most of your pampering at seungcheol. if anything, he’s more than happy, because now you’re there to give him the attention he complains about when he can’t. your presence, for a lack of better words, acts as a balance for you three. but there are times where you choose to baby (read: pester) him, simply because he’s the youngest and needs attention once in a while. your words, not his.

now is one of those moments.

jihoon blinks, staring at the shoe box perched on the table before him. he looks at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you gesture at the shoe box in a flourish, widely grinning like a child who’s won candy. “ta-da!” you exclaim. seungcheol, who had been immersed with a mobile game, is now looking his way, curiously staring at the box. judging from his expression, he guesses he doesn’t know what the contents are, either.

“and what exactly am i looking at?” he asks.

“open it!” you exclaim.

he does as he’s told, lifting up the lid of the box. to his surprise, they’re a pair of black slide-ons. he remembers eyeing a pair a week ago at a mall he had gone to with you and soonyoung, but had dismissed the thought after seeing the number shopping bags soonyoung had on each arm. he isn’t sure if you remembered or if this is a mere coincidence. either way, he’s surprised you bought him a pair of shoes out of the blue.

“what!” seungcheol exclaims. he throws his phone onto the couch, the device bouncing on the cushions. he walks towards you, instantly wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “you bought shoes for hoonie, but not for me?”

you roll your eyes. “cheol, you’re the one giving people your credit card information. you’re quite capable of buying your own shoes... actually, you’d buy them, unprompted.”

“but it’s different when it’s a gift,” he whines. “i want you to buy me shoes, too.”

ignoring your whiny boyfriend, you gesture at the sandals. “i saw you looking at them when we were at the mall with soonyoung last week! i know you don’t have a lot of time to go shopping, so i bought them for you,” you explain.

jihoon frowns. he’s the one practically swimming in a pool of money, so he should be the one buying you nice things, not the other way around. “oh... you didn’t have to.”

when he looks up at you, he sees the excitement vanish from your face, being replaced with a pout. seeing you like that makes him wonder why he and seungcheol never try babying you, especially when you have the audacity to look as cute as you do now. “do you not like them? i can always return them and get you something else...”

he practically flies out of his seat, eyes wide. “no!” he blurts. you and seungcheol are startled by the sudden outburst, your eyes mirroring his. “i mean-” he clears his throat, “i like them, i really do. but i should be the one buying you things, not the other way around.”

thankfully, you smile. “don’t worry about it! a baby like you should be bought nice things, even if you probably have better versions of them,” you tease, blowing him an air kiss.

jihoon scoffs. "you know, now that i think about it, you always pay for my things even though you’re the, and i quote, broke college student. what’s up with that?”

“because babies shouldn’t be paying for things.” you size him up, feigning innocence. “are you even allowed to have a debit card?”

seungcheol snorts at your comment, stifling his laughter by burying his head in your shoulder. on the other hand, jihoon’s jaw drops in disbelief. “this is bullying!” he yells, exasperated. “i’m being bullied by my boyfriend. hyung, you can’t be siding with him.”

the older shrugs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “when i do it, you always kick me, but you never do anything when it’s him. it’s so fun, seeing you get all flustered.”

he glares at you both. “i actually hate you two. especially you,” he seethes, pointing at you.

you lean over to whisper in seungcheol’s ear, but you’re side-eyeing him, obviously trying to get him to hear you. “has he been fed yet? you know babies get grouchy when they don’t have food in their system.”

“(name) (last name)!!”

seungcheol knows that like him, you’re usually the oldest in most situations. because of this, taking care of those around you has practically become second nature. making sure everyone around you is healthy and happy has become instinctive, and you’re willing to go through hoops and hurdles just to achieve that. it’s one of the many traits he loves about you.

he’s grateful to have you around to take care of him, but most importantly, he’s glad that there’s someone like you taking care of jihoon. sure, he whines about not being the center of your attention, but he knows that there are times when jihoon needs it more than he does. viewed as the genius producer and leader of the vocal unit of seventeen, there’s no doubt that the pressure he receives to repeatedly produce big hits is unimaginable. though it’s something that the two of them share in common, he knows he would never willingly open up about his thoughts, afraid of burdening the already stressed leader.

thankfully, there’s you, with a warm and loving aura encompassing you. you just have this aura that makes people want to lower their guard, even for those as whole and reserved as jihoon. it undoubtedly helps relieve the tension that the young producer has, even if he claims to hate it.

even if he knows this, though, that doesn’t stop him from wanting all of your attention. you’re the only person jihoon allows to pamper him (even if he denies it), so it’s not surprising that you take every opportunity you get to do so. while it’s fun to see him get riled up, seungcheol can’t help but act bratty when your attention isn’t on him.

on an exceptionally mundane day where the members of seventeen are lounging in the practice room, taking a break after excruciating hours of nonstop dancing, you knock on the door, arms loaded with bags of takeout. a few seconds later, the door swings open, and you’re standing in front of a sweaty chan. “oh, hyung! what brings you here?” he asks, surprised.

“hey chan,” you greet with a smile. he moves to the side, giving you space to enter the room. when you do, you’re greeted by twelve boys who seem equally sweaty and exhausted, who slur their greetings. “i was going to drop off some food for cheol and hoonie, but i figured you guys would be hungry,” you explained, gesturing towards the bags. from the way their eyes light up, you can tell they’re pleased with the surprise. “i have fried chicken, tteokbokki, japchae... just a bit of everything.”

immediately, the thirteen boys gather around you, salivating at the scent wafting out of the bags. “thank you hyung, you didn’t have to do that for us,” dokyeom smiles.

you shrug, seating yourself between seungcheol and jihoon. “it’s the least i could do, don’t worry about it. now eat up! you all are probably starving.”

another chorus of thanks echoes throughout the room, and soon, everyone begins to dig in. as you chat with the other members, catching up on each others’ lives and learning about comeback preparations, you suddenly feel someone pulling you up by the armpits before placing you down on their lap. startled, you crane your neck and see seungcheol, who responds by pecking your forehead. “what was that for?” mingyu asks from across you, voicing your question.

“you haven’t paid attention to me at all,” he murmurs.

you simply hum, leaning forward to stab a piece of fried chicken. you aim the fork at seungcheol’s mouth, who eagerly sweeps in and takes a bite. from the corner of your eye, you can see the other members eyeing you two with disgust. “sometimes i forget this is a three-way relationship, seeing how you both react so differently around (name)-hyung,” seungkwan snorts, scooping more japchae onto his plate. “why can’t you be more like jihoon-hyung? at least he doesn’t whine when (name)-hyung isn’t around every five minutes like you.”

you roll your eyes. “please. hoonie likes it when i baby him, too.” you send him a wink, to which he responds with by rolling his eyes.

“you’re talking nonsense.”

“don’t lie~” you coo, leaning over and ruffling his hair. “our cute baby hoonie~”

above you, seungcheol pouts, resting his chin on your head. “why don’t you ever treat me like that, (name)? this is unfair.”

you add more tteokbokki onto your plate. “it’s fun, seeing both of your reactions. hoonie’s more fun to tease, and it’s fun seeing you get all mopey.” he pouts, though he can’t refute your claims. jihoon does have funnier reactions than he does, and judging by both the amused and unimpressed looks the other members give him, he’s sure that he looks nothing short of glum.

“you know,” wonwoo begins, “i never would’ve imagined that jihoon would’ve gotten together with them. maybe with (name), but not with seungcheol-hyung. you both cling onto him more than to each other, anyways.”

“cheol here just comes to me more because he’s scared of hoonie,” you laugh, patting his thigh. “besides, they have each other when i’m not in the picture.”

“(name), you shouldn’t spoil cheollie so much. he’s already so bratty when you’re not here,” jeonghan sighs. “i’d love to see you tease jihoon more, though. you’re the only person who can get away with it unscathed, anyways.”

both seungcheol and jihoon darken in embarrassment. “shut it, yoon jeonghan,” they snap in unison.

when seungcheol and jihoon wake up one saturday morning, they don’t expect to be clinging onto each other in bed. they also don’t expect you to be awake already, seeing how you’re usually one of the last people to get up.

“where’s (name)?” jihoon groggily asks, scooting closer to an equally tired seungcheol. though he rarely lets seungcheol hold him, his need for warmth overpowers his disdain for skinship.

the older doesn’t seem to mind his sudden touchiness, wrapping an arm around him. “dunno,” he mumbles.

neither of them further questions your disappearance, cuddling closer to each other. they both begin to drift back asleep when the floorboards of the hallway creak, signalling a new presence. the bedroom dear squeaks open, so when they both turn to face the source, they see you tiptoeing your way in. “oh, morning guys,” you whisper, sheepishly smiling. “sorry for waking you two."

“it’s fine,” jihoon yawns, slowly sitting up. beside him, seungcheol turns to dig his face into his pillow, stretching his limbs. “why are you up so early? it’s-” he pauses to glance at the clock, which reads 11:30 am. “okay, maybe it’s not so early. but what are you doing up?”

you shrug. “cheol elbowed my face earlier, and i couldn’t fall back asleep again, so i decided to get out of bed.”

seungcheol turns around and looks at you with guilty eyes, sitting up. “sorry babe,” he apologizes. he grabs your arm and pulls you onto him. “is your pretty face okay?” he asks, rubbing your cheeks.

you thread your fingers through his hair, untangling the knots as jihoon rolls over. “why don’t you come back to bed and sleep some longer? i know how irritable you can get when you don’t get enough sleep.”

you shake your head at his offer. “it’s okay, but thanks.” you reposition yourself so you’re sandwiched between seungcheol and jihoon, which is when they notice the navy apron hanging around your neck. “i made food not long ago, it should be warm still. come eat with me.” you wriggle your way out of the human sandwich, standing up again. “get up, lazy bums!”

“kiss me first,” seungcheol jeers like the brat he is.

you lean in close until your breath fans his lips. when he looks like he’s going to reciprocate, you move your lips last minute and peck his forehead instead. “brush your teeth first, brat. your breath smells like ass.” before you leave, you swiftly move your head and place a kiss on jihoon’s cheek, running out of the bedroom before either of them can do anything about it.

half an hour later, jihoon steps out of the bedroom and trudges into the kitchen. seungcheol’s still in the bathroom washing up. when he rounds the corner, he nearly screams to see you so close to him. you take this opportunity to wrap your arms around him and lift him up, to which he responds with a yelp. “put me down!” he shrieks.

you pay no mind to his shrieking, walking towards the counter. you plop down on a stool and seat him on your lap. he’s still squirming, but your grip is tight, so his fidgeting proves futile. “good morning, my baby~”

for someone who claims to hate the nickname, he always flushes a pretty red when you or seungcheol use it. even after getting together, he still isn’t used to it. “how many times do i have to tell you to not call me a baby? i’m only a year younger than you.”

“then what should i call you then?” you pucker your lips, which are met with jihoon’s palm. “my liege? my love? which do you prefer?” you flirt.

his blush darkens, and he can only look away in embarrassment. “shut up.”

your laugh is so loud it hurts his ears, but it’s endearing and true, something he never gets tired of listening to. “our baby is so cute when he’s flustered~”

“is today a bully seungcheol or a bully jihoon day, i wonder?” a voice in front of you asks. he cranes his neck as much as he can and sees seungcheol pouting in front of you two, bangs wet. “do i not get this treatment because i’m the oldest?

you stick your tongue out at him before flicking his forehead. “come on, let’s eat! you two took forever.” fortunately, seungcheol pulls out a stool for jihoon to sit on, so he’s all too eager to hop away from your clutches.

you’re sitting across from the duo, who are seated beside each other. the kitchen is mostly silent, save for the clinking of utensils. it isn’t when seungcheol takes a bite from an egg that you notice a band-aid plastered near his chin. “did you hurt yourself?” you ask, aiming your fork at his wound.

he absentmindedly runs a finger against the band-aid. “oh, this? i was shaving earlier and accidentally cut myself,” he explains. he gauges your reaction, from your furrowed eyebrows to worried eyes. just then, he lets out a cry, startling you and jihoon. “oh (name), it hurts~”

you laugh at his silliness, while jihoon snorts. “you’re so embarrassing. gosh (name), this is what happens when you spoil him too much. one single mishap and he comes running to you with fake tears. look at the monster you’ve created.”

you glance at seungcheol, and the mischievous smirk on your lips only spells for disaster. “cheol-ah, you were just fine a moment ago. i think you’re strong enough to handle a tiny cut, aren’t you?”

normally he would never allow for someone to question his strength, but when it comes to you, all he wants is your pampering, even if he makes himself look like a fool in the process. “don’t tease me, (name)~ don’t take jeonghan’s words so seriously!”

you laugh, recalling your friend’s words. you love to indulge your boyfriends, though teasing them is also fun, too. you used to only tease jihoon with your sickening babying, but seeing how seungcheol whines only fuels your mischievous nature. “i think you can handle it, cheol.” changing the topic, you smile at jihoon. “how’s the food? i think i did a good job for someone with abysmal cooking skills.”

“babe~” he whines.

“the food’s good, although your chopping skills could use some work,” jihoon comments, poking at an unevenly cut tomato.

you snort. “i’m cooking for you guys, not gordon ramsay. as long as it tastes good, it should be fine.”

“this is bullying.”

you turn to face seungcheol, who’s still pouting. “why don’t you ask hoonie?”

“because he’s going to say no. or worse, he’ll kick my shins.”

you laugh, getting up to refill your water. before you enter the kitchen, you cup seungcheol’s face and press a chaste kiss on his band-aid. “there. happy?”

the dopey, lovesick look he gives you is answer enough, and as confident and nonchalant as you are when it comes to flirting, you can feel butterflies swarming in your stomach. it never gets less exhilarating, knowing you have him wrapped around your finger. “suddenly, my cut doesn’t hurt anymore.”

jihoon gags. “disgusting.”

“you like it when we’re disgusting,” you mumble, pressing a kiss on his hair. before he can react, you swoop down and squish his cheeks, leaning in to press your lips together. he makes a disgruntled noise, though he doesn’t make any attempts to pry your hands off or to move away. when you pull away, a satisfied smile rests on your lips. “see? i knew you liked it when i babied you.”

you move your hands away from his face and lay them atop his hair. on the other hand, seungcheol squishes your cheeks together and begins peppering kisses on your face, drawing out little giggles from you. below you, jihoon frowns, folding his arms. “you’re so annoying. i could step on your toes if i wanted to.”

“if you wanted to,” you reiterate, turning your head so seungcheol doesn’t muffle your words with his lips. “key word is if, my dear. you would never actually hurt me, our cute baby.”

seungcheol relinquishes his attacks, sitting back onto the stool. “i wonder what would happen if i called him that?” he wonders out loud. suddenly, he squishes jihoon’s cheek, mirroring the fond look you always give them. “our cute baby jihoonie~”

right when he does this, seungcheol decides then that is the first and last time he’ll ever try to baby jihoon again - at least, if he wants to stay unharmed. pampering is more of your forte, anyways.

#seventeen #seventeen hip hop unit #seventeen vocal unit #kpop #seventeen x reader #seventeen x male reader #s.coups #choi seungcheol #woozi #lee jihoon #jicheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x male reader #woozi x reader #woozi x male reader #renjuseyo : seventeen #renjuseyo : fics

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makoodlesarchive · 4 years ago

Text

when i was young i fell into a river

pairing: kirishima x reader

word count: 5k

warnings: none, really! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff i guess?

notes: hello, it's me, back again with some writing! it's been a long time and i'm very sorry about that, but i've finally gotten around to writing and posting my spirited away au! i'm v stressed with college so this turned out more vent-y than i had originally intended, but hopefully it's enjoyable anyway! thank you all for being so patient with me, i am endlessly grateful for you

The dream is the same as always, comforting in its familiarity.

A salt-scented breeze cools your sweat-soaked brow as you pause behind one of the sliding screen doors, the rice paper windows doing nothing to block out the chatter of the other workers. The bubbling noise of the bathhouse is constant, and the quiet little moments you steal away for yourself in the middle of the working day is the only solitude you’ve gotten since you came here. The work is physically back-breaking, but you know that you’re working towards a goal. It’s just a shame that you can’t remember exactly what that goal is.

One of the other girls calls your name, and you sigh as your unofficial break comes to an end. You slip back into the room, ignoring the way the frog spirits snicker and hold their noses as you pass. They like to complain a lot about your human stench, but it doesn’t stop them from threatening to eat you every time you make a mistake. Fear, you’ve found, is an uncomfortably successful motivator.

The days bleed into one another, full of scrubbing dark wooden floors and the rich earthy scents of the herbal mixes they use in the baths. The spirits that frequent the bathhouse, that once inspired so much awe and fear in your heart, become so commonplace that you hardly spare them a glance anymore. From the cackling masked spirits that always travel in threes to the grinning cat spirits to the sombre, unspeaking river spirits, you only go as far as to offer them a polite bow before scurrying out of their way. They never spare you any attention, anyway -- most of the time, the spirits’ eyes seem to look right through you.

All but one, that is.

He looks to be a boy around your age, but appearances can be deceiving around here. His red eyes are often dull and blank, but even so they have a certain ageless quality about them that no human twelve-year-old could ever possess. His scarlet hair sticks up in gravity-defying spikes, and his skin is as smooth and clear as running water. His face is often stuck in a carefully cultivated blank expression; the only thing about him that doesn’t seem intimidatingly otherworldly are the deep purple shadows under his eyes.

He helped you once, when you first came here. The rare act of kindness had stuck in your head, made even more remarkable in the face of the following weeks and months of harsh work and cruel co-workers. You wonder if he remembers; he doesn’t often look at you, but sometimes when he does you swear you can see a flicker of something in his eyes.

Two of the girls start yelling at each other, arguing heatedly over the way the work is being divided. A foreman appears to break up the fight, but then they both start shouting at him instead. You take the moment of distraction to relax, wincing at the pull of your tired muscles in the back of your neck. All the other girls working at the bath house are older and bigger than you, which means you need to work twice as hard to keep up with them and prove that you’re worth keeping around.

In the brief moment of rest, your eyes are drawn slowly to the corridor, where guests and workers alike bustle past as they travel to the treatment rooms and bathtubs deeper into the bathhouse. As if you’ve conjured him just by thinking about him, the boy stands in the doorway.

You straighten up on instinct, suddenly self-conscious of your sweat-soaked body and dishevelled uniform. He’s not even looking your way, preoccupied with the two girls who are still yelling at the frog foreman. Slowly though, his eyes began to travel the room, and you take a deep breath and hold it as his dull ruby gaze lands on you like a physical weight. You crack a nervous smile, feeling the muscles in your cheeks that have gone unused for weeks ache at the strain, and raise a hand to give him a tiny wave.

For just a moment, that blankness in his face seems to quiver and fall away. He smiles back.

You jolt awake, breathing heavily and coated in a light sheen of sweat. You’ve had the same dream, or some variation of it, regularly ever since you were twelve years old and while it’s become familiar to you, you still find yourself feeling vaguely panicked when you wake up after it, as though you’ve forgotten something very important.

Once your heartbeat has calmed down a little, you pull yourself out of bed and trudge into the kitchen to make yourself some tea. The weak, milky light of dawn filters in through the windows, lighting your apartment up just enough so that you don’t have to turn on a light to make your way around. You take your tea out to the balcony and sit, gazing out at the purplish early morning sky.

Most of the time when you wake up from those dreams you feel blessedly lucky to be living alone with no one to question or bother you, but sometimes you can’t help but be overcome by overwhelming loneliness. The dreams are silly and most of the time they don’t even make any sense, but in the aftermath of them you’re always left with a vague sense of unfulfillment, though you can’t put your finger exactly on what it is you’re missing. You always end up exactly like this; sitting outside on your balcony in the early morning light, drinking tea alone and desperately wishing for something more.

You sigh, and go back inside.

The dream is the same, but different.

The garden is in full bloom, greenery overlaid with bursts of beautiful bright colours. Camellias, rhododendrons, and oleanders wave and shiver gently in the warm breeze, and apple blossoms hang heavily from a nearby tree. The flowering garden is enormous and maze-like, and you have yet to see it in any state other than fully flourishing.

It’s a beautiful place, especially after the hot, cramped working quarters of the bathhouse. You inhale the sweetly fragranced air and feel the knot of tension in your spine unfurl; it feels like the first time that you’ve been able to breathe all week, but that’s not the only reason that you’ve found yourself outside.

At the bottom of the garden, the grass drops off into a sheer drop. The cliff face overlooks a seemingly endless ocean, and you perch a safe distance from the drop before leaning back in the grass. The sky is an almost surreally deep blue and you watch as enormous fluffy clouds float by, looking as though they’ve been painted on a jewel-blue canvas.

It’s not the first time you’ve had this dream, and you know what you’ll see if you keep patiently watching.

It doesn’t take long — it never does. You time your lunch breaks precisely, all so you get to see this sight.

The clear blue sky makes it so much easier to spot the shiny white scales, flashing jewel-bright in the sunlight. The dragon writhes in the sky, streaking through the air like a great serpent caught in the wind. Even from this distance, you can see the knife-like teeth, the great sharp claws that gleam like pyrite, and the twisting horns that erupt from his head like daggers made from calcified bone. He looks deadly, a living weapon that swims through the air like a salmon in open water, but the sight of him makes something settle in your stomach.

You wonder what it would feel like to fall through the air with nothing but the wind to break your fall. You imagine it must feel like freedom.

The dragon flutters through the air, buoyed by the gentle sea breeze. If you didn’t know better, you might almost think that he was showing off — his movements are hypnotic, dreamlike, more like a dance than anything. His scales glow pearlescent in the midday sun, otherworldly and earthly all at once.

You could happily stay and watch him skim through the sky forever, but already the bell is being rung to call all workers back into the bathhouse. You heave a sigh so deep it feels as though your chest is about to crack with the force of it, before hauling yourself to your feet.

Your break is over, and now it’s back to work.

Sometimes you find it difficult to tell when you’re dreaming and when you’re awake. It feels as though everything is always happening all at once, in the present tense, forever. You don’t get to rest when you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, because the dreams just keep coming and coming. Sometimes you don’t feel like your life is real when you’re awake.

Riding on the train has always been therapeutic, especially at this time of the early morning. The sun rising lazily over the horizon sends milky threads of purple and pink across the cloudy sky, and you cradle your chin in your hand as you gaze out across the moving landscape. You love these little trips, feeling more at home in the creaky, overfull train carriage than you do in your own bedroom sometimes, though you can’t quite work out where that particular feeling comes from.

You know sometimes that stories end with “And then I woke up — it was only a dream”, but in your experience the story simply doesn’t end. You cannot fully wake up without the tail-ends of your dreams clinging to you for the rest of the day, and you never fully sleep. You just dream, dream, dream.

Sighing, you lean your head back against the seat that you’re slumped in. The train carriage is too full, and you were lucky to get a seat in the first place — from your vantage point, you watch as people sway in tandem with the motion of the train. It’s almost hypnotic, how they undulate back and forth with every turn, brushing against each other only to be pulled apart again by the lurching train.

Through the sea of bodies, you catch a man’s eye. It breaks the monotony of the morning commute and your own spiralling thoughts, and your spine straightens unconsciously. He quirks an eyebrow briefly, slightly, in such a way that no one would be able to safely accuse him of having done it.

You look away, startled for no good reason. Do you know him? He feels familiar in a way that you can’t quite put your finger on. The train rattles on, and it takes several long minutes before you work up the nerve to glance the man’s way again. He’s still watching you, but you’re ready for it this time. His attention isn’t such a shock, and you allow your eyes to wander over his face properly.

You must know him, you think. Your eyes track over his features as though they’re winding over a well-worn path, admiring the curve of his nose and the fullness of his lips and the arch of his eyebrows over his intense, watchful eyes.

He smiles at you, and it feels as though you’re sharing a secret from across the crowded train carriage. You smile back — it’s just a small tug of the corners of your mouth, but it’s the most you’ve smiled in months. Longer, maybe.

In the middle of the carriage a woman laughs at something her friend has said and sways backward, blocking your view of the stranger. It feels like a loss.

The train trundles onwards, and the carriage gradually empties out. You watch people step off the train with friends, with their heads ducked low, lost in thought, arguing over the phone, distracted with their book bags. By the time it comes to your stop, the man is gone.

You try not to feel disappointed as you step off the train — it’s silly, after all. You don’t know the man, and whatever you thought you felt as you looked at each other was surely all in your own head. Your head has been awfully full, recently.

As you step off the train you grapple with your bag, side-stepping a businessman who is busy shouting down the phone at some unfortunate coworker. You’re distracted, which is the only reasonable explanation for how long it takes you to realise that the man from the train is standing in front of you.

“Oh.” You blurt, startled. You had already begun to resign yourself to never seeing him again, so you can’t help but feel distinctly caught off guard at the sight of him standing before you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” The man says. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you have no idea what he’s waiting for — as it is, you get completely distracted by his eyes. You hadn’t noticed on the train, but now that he’s up close you see that they’re a truly unusual deep burgundy. He tilts his head when you remain silent, and bites his lip. Now that you’re really looking, you notice how sharp his teeth are. “You’ve barely changed at all.”

You blink at him. “Er…” You trail off nervously. You don’t recognise him, but you feel like you know him. Clearly, he thinks that he knows you.

“It’s fitting, isn’t it? Meeting again on a train?” He smiles, and it’s an impossibly knowing expression. You don’t think you’ve ever been on the receiving end of a look that intimate in your life, though you have no idea what he’s talking about.

Someone collides hard with your shoulder and you stagger for balance. You only look away from the man for a mere second, but it’s enough; when you look again, he’s gone.

You take to walking. There’s a wooded area behind the town, and you enjoy traipsing idly through the trees. Ancient roots erupt out of the dirt and fan over the ground like hairs, and the moss that covers the trunks of the trees is such a deep green that it almost seems like paint pigment. It’s soothing, being surrounded by nature like this. It reminds you of childhood — the simplicity of being able to jump over tree roots under a canopy of pale green leaves, of being able to leave all your thoughts and stress at the boundary of the forest.

It’s where you come after waking sweat-soaked and disoriented from a dream that clings to you like a burr, where you walk among the ferns and the needle-leaved weeds until you manage to shake the last vestiges of memory from your mind. You need it, especially in the mornings where you wake up with the acrid scent of herbal cleanser stinging in your nose or the bite of hard calluses on your palms from non-existent rough cloths. On mornings like that, you walk and walk until you no longer feel as though you’re more alive in your dreams than you are in reality.

Deep in the forest is a great red facade, painted a flaking, faded red. You wander by it frequently, admiring the overgrown greenery that crawls up the walls like reaching fingers, the mossy stone guardian that stands sentinel amongst the cracked flagstones that lead into the tunnelled entrance. You’ve asked around in the town, curious about what exactly this building was for, but most of the locals either don’t know what building you’re talking about or admit that they’re not sure. One man told you that the facade was built for a theme park in the 90s that had ended up going bust in the recession, and that the building only looked old.

You remain unconvinced on that front. The building has the kind of presence that only very old things have; it feels like it’s watching you.

For the most part, your walks in the forest are peaceful. Recently though, you’ve found yourself plagued by an insistent, irritating sense of deja vu. You don’t know where it’s coming from, and it hits you at the strangest of times — when you’re making tea, or in the bath, or cleaning your apartment, or on the train, or admiring the sky on a cloudless day.

The man from the train is the boy in your dreams. It takes you weeks to come to that realisation. You just wake up in the middle of the night on a random Tuesday, with wide eyes and clammy skin and his name slipping from the forefront of your mind.

It shouldn’t be possible, but once it dawns on you, you’re certain of it.

Even stranger is that once you realise it, it feels as though you see him everywhere. You see flashes of red hair when you’re walking down the street, when you’re grocery shopping, when you’re walking home late at night. It’s only ever the barest glance out of the corner of your eye, just overt enough for you to know it’s him, but subtle enough for you to question yourself immediately after.

One night, you travel to a local city to meet some old school friends. At night, the city seems to pulse. The music from seedy clubs spills out into the neon-lit streets, muffled shouted arguments echoes from alleyways and apartments alike, and the streets are peppered with people either scurrying or stumbling home, with very little variation. Though the perpetually overcast sky hides any trace of the moon or stars, the streetlamps reflect in the ever-present stagnant puddles littering the street, lighting them up in varying shades of sickly yellow.

At night, the city seems alive. Chronically ill and struggling to breathe, maybe, but clinging to life all the same.

The way the neon lights flicker in the gloomy darkness, just barely illuminating the shadows of people hurrying through the streets to get in out of the rain, reminds you of something you can’t quite remember. It sits in the back of your mind like a sour taste, but no matter how much you reach for the memory it remains just out of reach.

You spend most of the night staring out of the steamed up window of the pub, entranced by the sight of the night streets and frustrated by the memories that seem to dangle just out of reach. You know that it doesn’t make for good company, and you feel guilty for that. Your friends don’t seem overly surprised at your detachment. You’ve been drifting away for years, and though tonight was supposed to be all about reconnecting it seems clear that it’s not going to work.

When you eventually stand up to leave, with forced smiles and awkward goodbyes, you can’t help but feel melancholy settle over you like a second skin. As you slip out of the pub and onto the dark streets, the thought crosses your mind that you’re not used to being alone like this. It’s a silly thought, really; you’ve been alone for years. But sometimes, in those liminal moments between waking and sleeping, you swear you can hear the gentle drowsy breaths of dozens of people sleeping all around you, as though you’re surrounded on all sides. On those nights you wake up hot and claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but never feeling lonely.

It is probably your own fault, you reflect as you drift down the sidewalk like a ghost. It’s difficult to make an effort to know people when you feel as though you don’t know yourself. You don’t know how to bridge the distance between yourself and other people. You think sometimes that you’re missing chunks of yourself.

You pass an open shopfront that’s serving street food, and glance briefly in at the kitchen. The cook is illuminated only dimly in the smoky room, standing out as a shadow figure more than anything, and for a split second you could swear that he has six arms. You look away quickly and carry on walking — you don’t want to look again only to be proven wrong. You want to preserve that little second of magic strangeness for as long as you can.

The puddles on the street seem like they’re glowing with the light reflected from the neon streetlamps, and you weave your way carefully around them to avoid getting your feet wet. The night has a strange quality about it, almost as though it’s holding its breath.

Considering the combination of your pensive mood and the expectant air of the evening, you don’t feel surprised at all when you look up from the wet cobblestones to find the man standing only a few feet ahead of you.

He smiles like he’s nervous, his gaze tracking carefully over your face. In his hands, he’s holding flowers. Camellias, you think. It’s the first time since you first saw him on the train that hasn’t been a fleeting glance out of the corner of your eye— he’s here in front of you and he’s real and solid and sturdy. He seems more substantial than the streets around you, than your friends back at the pub had been.

“Do you remember me?” He asks, voice soft as though he’s afraid of the answer.

“Remember you?” You croak. It feels as though the words are catching inside your throat. “No. But I’ve seen you every night in my dreams for years.”

If that’s the answer he’s expecting, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking at you, your face, your body. You wonder exactly it is that he’s seeing. “These are for you.” He says eventually, holding out the flowers. “I didn’t- I wanted to bring you something, when I saw you again. And I know that you always liked the garden.”

He’s talking as if the places that you’ve dreamed about are real. It doesn’t come as the earth-shattering surprise you might have expected — rather, it feels like a key turning in an old lock. A click, and then a sense of yes, that’s right.

You take the flowers, and clutch them to your chest. They’re a fleshy pink, with a vibrant yellow centre. The petals are as soft as velvet. Holding them feels like holding a safety blanket. “Thank you.” It’s the only thing that you can manage to say right now. Your thoughts are too full, and nothing else makes it out of your mouth.

It’s rather startling, the feelings that bubble up in your chest. It feels like something has just been unlocked, as though you had stored away all this emotion somewhere deep in your ribcage and then forgotten about it only for it to resurface at this precise moment, for this precise person.

“Eijirou.” You croak. “Kirishima Eijirou.”

His whole face brightens, and his eyes sparkle. “Yes. That’s me. You do remember!”

They’re not quite memories, you don’t think. They come in dreamlike flashes — the garden, an ocean, train tracks, the feral snarling of a dragon with sharp teeth, hard work and hot food, friends.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Kirishima is saying, his face open and earnest. “But I told you that I’d come and find you again, remember?”

You do remember, sort of. A flash of a warm hand holding yours, pushing you forward over a boundary between one world and another, and a goodbye whispered behind you that sounds like a promise.

“You saved me.”

Kirishima laughs, though his eyes look a little shiny. “It was the other way around, actually. I would have stayed trapped in that bathhouse forever, if it weren’t for you.”

“The bathhouse.” You murmur, wide-eyed. It was real, real, real.

“Things are different now.” He edges closer to you. He’s large and imposing and taller than you, but he’s hunched slightly in an attempt to make himself unthreatening. “That’s why it took so long for me to come for you. Things were changing. Me and Katsuki run the bathhouse now.”

Katsuki. In your mind's eye you see a boy with wild blond hair and a dangerous look in his eyes, a boy who gives you extra rice when he can manage and takes over parts of your chores when you get so tired that you’re fit to pass out.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait.” He says quietly, and the tide of emotion that you had just barely been holding at bay comes crashing over you. Before the first tear has welled over the edge of your eyelids, Kirishima has stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms. The flowers are crushed between your chests as you cry.

“I didn’t even know what I was waiting for.” You cry into his silk suikan.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers into your hair. “I’m here now. I’m not going to leave again.”

You don’t release your grip on him. You’re not willing to take the chance.

After a moment, Kirishima speaks again. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go?” You echo, finally pulling away. “Go where?”

“Home.” He says, and he means the bathhouse. He means the spirit world.

“You want me to work for you?”

“I want you to help us run it.” He corrects. The distinction is important for both of you — though the memories are distant, you both know what it feels like to have your names and voices erased so cleanly that it makes you wonder if you ever existed fully at all.

“I don’t know anything about running a bathhouse. Especially not one for spirits.” You say, but Kirishima just laughs.

“You were always a hard worker. You’ll learn as you go. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

You want to say yes. The word beats in your head like a drum, and you can’t think of a good reason to say no. The bathhouse. Home. The chance to feel real and awake at the same time.

“Okay.” You say on a breath, staring at him with wide eyes. “Stay with me, this time.”

When Kirishima’s face lights up in a smile, it’s the first time that you think you can accurately describe someone as incandescently happy. “Good luck getting rid of me again.”

You laugh, feeling nearly delirious with relief and joy. It’s real. He’s real. He’s come back for you, and now you’re going back with him. You think you should probably feel nervous or hesitant, but this brief encounter has felt more solid and right than the rest of the night spent with distant school-friends made uncomfortable by your silences.

“So, how do we get there?” You ask, but Kirishima just grins at you like you should already know the answer.

The train station is tucked away down an alley just off a busy main shopping district.

“It’s easy to miss if you don’t know exactly where you're going.” Kirishima tells you with a sharp smile, and it’s easy to believe. The red brick building that housed the train station is unmarked, and the trains couldn’t be seen from the main street. The alley itself is home to many curious sights -- paper lanterns bob overhead (though they don’t seem to be suspended by anything in particular), a yellowed flyer from the 1950s advertising Marlboro cigarettes drifts along on what seems to be a breeze despite the noticeable lack of wind, and three magpies sit on a wall wearing little golden timepieces on chains around their necks and caw in time with the ticking.

“Ready to go home?” Kirishima asks quietly. In his hand, two train tickets flutter in a non-existent breeze.

A family of mice scamper past your feet, pulling a miniature suitcase between them. A tall, thin woman wearing a blank white mask assists them onto the train.

You laugh at the whimsy of it all — it feels as though you’ve stepped into a fairytale, into a dream, into your childhood. “Yes,” You grin, “I’m ready.”

Kirishima beams back at you, and holds out a hand to help you onto the train. Finding a seat was easy — despite all the passengers you had seen boarding, the carriage was oddly empty. As soon as you’re seated, you sigh. It feels as though you’re sinking into an old overstuffed armchair, comfortable and familiar. When the whistle blows and the train starts moving, you turn eagerly to watch as the train begins to pick up speed. Within moments, you find that you can barely recognise the landscape blurring past the window — It seems that you’re zooming passed a beautiful sea-view, despite the fact that the city the train station was located in was conspicuously land-locked. You sigh happily and lean against your seat.

You still don’t remember everything about your experience in the spirit world all those years ago, but you think you remember hearing someone telling you “Once you meet someone you never really forget them. It just takes a while for your memories to return."

You make eye contact with Eijirou, who smiles back at you so fondly that it nearly hurts to look at. He’s changed so much from the boy in your dreams, in your memories. His eyes are no longer glassy and distant — now they’re shiny and expressive and so bright. His hair is longer too; still spiked and wild, but longer and curling softly over the curve of his neck and shoulders. He’s the boy your remember from all those years ago, but he’s also a man now. Grown, like you have, but smiling at you gently just like you’re ten years old again.

Through the window behind his head, the sunrise begins to bathe the water in delicate pinks and yellows. You’ll wait for as long as you need to for the memories to return, but even if they don’t that’s alright. You can just make new ones.

#this is so cheesy lol but whatever i've been staring at this doc for too long and i want it out of my sight #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #kirishima eijirou #ghibli au #kirishima eijiro fluff #kirishima x y/n #mha x reader

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theravencawsatmidnight · 3 years ago

Text

Rabbit

Chapter Two. Pt One

After two years in Azkaban for how he treated you he was finally free. The only thing keeping him going was you. Now finally reunited with his Rabbit he thinks things will go easier for him. But Draco is struggling mentally and refusing to ask for help.

W! Heavy Ptsd, mental freak outs. Hearing voices, blood, bruises, cuts. Draco trying to convince himself he’s fine. Refusing to ask for help. Mental instability. The voices are the Dementors

Tags. @khemz1312 @squeaky-ducky @goofygobber @dracoslittlesunflower @trashyvicks @rosiehufflepuff @dracmalf0y-dm

It was him.. He found your shop , hes out .. hes.. He looks so broken, hurt, tired.

“Draco!” you ran over wrapping your arms around him crying hard into his chest trying to talk but nothing was making any sense. He was really here, after so long you could finally feel him against you , hear his heartbeat and feel his breathing on your head… but.. His heartbeat was slower than it should be and his breathing seemed to be staggered, was he trying to hide it ? Draco pulled you in closing his eyes just taking it in. He made it, alive.

She doesn't love you

We love you Draco

Come baaack...

“Draco?”

His breathing started to hitch.

Shes second guessing this whole thing.

“Draco?” you rubbed his chest so he would look at you. “You okay?”

The man shook his head getting rid of the voices and cupped your cheeks in his palms. “Is it really you, Rabbit?”

You giggled leaning into him. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Can we sit down?” he asked you looking around the shop not seeing anyone.

“Yes, wait here just gotta close up” gently you let go of him to go flip the OPEN sign over.

She hates this

Draco leaned on the counter holding his head. “Sshhut up….” he whispered.

You are not welcome here…

“Yes i am….”

Biscuit hopped over to the mans shaking hand to lay its head on it and the voices started to fade away. The man looked down to see the brown rabbit staring at him wiggling its nose. “I..” he flipped his hand over to scratch at the rabbits chin. “I cant tell her...this happens.”

You returned with a big smile on your face. “Aw he likes you already ! “ you picked up the rabbit holding him with one hand.

“Where did .. you get him..” Draco took your other hand following you up the stairs of your shop.

“The twins, graduation gift.cheeky bastards” you giggled nuzzling your cheek on the rabbit. “I love him though, hes helped a lot.”

“Rabbit..”

“Huh? Yes?” you sat Draco down in the living room and put Biscuit on his pillow.

Are you going to show her?

It might scare her.

He shook his head and started to unbutton his dress jacket. “I need to .. show you something.”

“Okay, whats wrong?” you joined Draco on the couch watching him pull his dress jacket off with shaky hands. “ Draco..?”

“Yes..?” his undershirt was pulled over his head .

“Your really shaky -..”

The bruises were a deep purple; they were all over his chest as if someone had been kicking him repeatedly in all the same spots. The middle of his chest, the lower half by his stomach and his arms around his shoulders.. All purple. Around his elbows had scratches from elbows to wrists that did not look good at all; they were sporadic red lines in all directions. His nails were short with red under them that seemed to not go away. His neck was full of cuts and his hands had cuts on them as well. You picked up one of Dracos hands to see his knuckles. Deep purple with fresh blood.

Told you the cuts would open…

Shes scared….

“Draco?”

He wasn't looking at you, just breathing hard and whimpering. “M’fine..”

“Stay right here okay?” you got up hurrying off into your restroom.

See?

She ran away from you

Your not the same person you once were

You cant fit in

Come back….

He shook his head but they just got louder.

Come back…

“Shut up…” Draco leaned on his knee holding his head up with his hand staring at the sleeping rabbit. “..b-b--biscuit…”

The rabbit opened an eye to see Draco on the verge of a breakdown. He got up hopping over cautiously so Draco could pick him up and set him on his lap.

Come…...ba.aa..ck..

He exhaled heavily once the voices left…

You had returned as well with some medicine and health potions. “Here, these will help, i made them” you held up the purple potion to him . “just drink this..”

Draco took the flask in a shaky hand drinking the sweet tasting liquid, he felt his body aches fade away and saw you wrapping up his knuckles. “I cant heal the bruises but.. “

“Do you still want me……”

“Huh?”

His hand cupped your cheek after putting the flask down. “Even if i look like this..”

“Draco id want you no matter what.” you kissed him. “Promise.”

He leaned into you heaving heavily. “Of course you would rabbit.”

Your arms wrapped around him to rub his back, his breathing was still off to you.. “Draco..what happened in..”

“I dont want to talk about it… not yet.” he cut you off fast. Dropping the conversation.

“Alright alright.. Lets go to bed instead.” you got up taking hsi wrapped hands in yours leading him up to the bed, Biscuit had hopped off Dracos lap to go back to his pillow to sleep.

It was a small room but you liked it, Draco ditched his pants, socks realizing he would need clothes . He looked at the bed staring at it for a long time. This would be the first night not in a cell…. In two years..

Its not the same

Don't you miss the cell?

Draco dug his hands in his hair, closing his eyes. “Shut up.. Leave me alone.”

We are a part of you now Draco.

We will never leave..

You came over moving the blanket down for him and pulling him over , your eyes down.

“Rabbit? Whats wrong?” he tipped your chin up seeing your sad face staring at him.

“The-the last time we … shared.”

He pressed you to him squeezing very tight. That night, that awful night , he was his worst.

Even she remembers that….

Awful…

Draco shook his head and leaned down to press his forehead to yours looking in your eyes. “Rabbit, I promise. I will never do that again.”

You waved your hand around ”i know.. Im just.. I want to “ you could not help but laugh. “ i want to snuggle.”

Draco hitched out a chuckle and kissed your forehead. “Oh Rabbit, of course.” you followed Draco into the bed and he pulled the covers up and laid your head on his chest. Soft.. comfortable.. Warm. it had been so long for him.

“Draco.. The light”

“Oh.” reaching out he grabbed the long string , his arm around you squeezed your shoulder as he pulled it making the room very dark. You snuggled into Draco and he did the same, running his fingers up and down your shoulder staring into the pitch black ceiling. This was not like the first night.. You were so scared of him.. Would not even face him in bed or look at him. Hes still amazed you stayed all night.

…

….

…..

A couple hours later. Draco was still awake holding your sleeping body.

Its dark isn't it ?

Draco shut his eyes, breathing slightly hard.

Remindssss us of the cell

Do you miss the dark..?

We miss the dark

“Leave me alone…”

But why? Dont you want to see us?

“ i want you to get out of my head..” his hands found his hair.

Do you think you can get rid of us on your own…?

His breathing was picking up, when he opened his eyes all he saw was darkness staring back at him, the room was starting to spin.

At least in the cell you had the moon…

The one light …

“Go … aa a- away…”

He got up in bed carefully laying you back down on his pillow.

She does not love you.

“Yes she does..” he got out of bed stumbling in the dark hitting the wall. “She does.. She loves me” he stammered out to the hallway feeling around for the light switch flipping it on. “Dammit Draco.. Your fine.. Pull it together…”

Are you sure…?

You can hardly walk..

“I just need some water… ignore them..” he shook his head, getting a small moment's peace. Draco found the kitchen slamming a cabinet open grabbing a glass. His wrist hit the sink turning on the water, he held the glass under getting the water more on his wrist then the cup.

You cant do things on your own anymore

The water was turned off and draco lifted the very shaky glass up to his lips while drinking .

Shes going to tell you to leave………

The glass shattered in Draco's hand waking you up to see the bed empty and the light on. “Draco?” quickly you got out of bed getting to the hallway just to stop when you heard him.

“I'm fine! Just needed some water…” his hands were bleeding . “go back to sleep Rabbit..”

“But.. I heard something.. Are you sure?” he heard your footsteps .

“Yes, Rabbit. Go to bed.” he tried to sound like he used to , when he had you under his finger in school. It must have worked because he heard you turn around and go back to bed. Draco leaned over the sink watching his tears hit the broken glass . “i … i cant tell her….”

#.RabbitFic #tw:ptsd #draco x hufflepuff reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #😤draco

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project-rosewood-476 · 3 years ago

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Every Rose Has Its Thorns Chapter 5

After three-plus long months of nothing and trigfuckery, Chapter 5 is finally out and about.

Tabby Anderson, Maplehood Creek, and Rosewood Prep belong to me, and The Pocket and the interpretation of the creeps belong to @creepypasta-shtick

Enjoy!

Summary: Tabby and Toby have a little heart-to-heart. Tabby learns and admits that Masky isn't all that bad. Tabby and Hoodie have yet another argument. Tabby only apologizes to everyone for being a bitch and has her own little heart to heart with Hoodie. This may be the beginning of Tabby taking baby steps to grow and create budding allyships (maybe even friendships) and realizing that she and Hoodie may have more in common than they think.

Tabby startled awake, lifting her upper body at the sound of someone knocking. I wasn't a slow three knocks like EJ's was. The knocking was a rapid one two three four pattern. Who could it be?

She groggily got up and shuffled across the floor towards the door. Whoever it was was about to get a piece of her mind. What was so hard to understand about the rules she posted on her door? She was not in the mood for any more bullshit tonight. Depending on who it was and what they wanted, she could and would throw hands this time.

“What the fuck do you want?!” said Tabby in an intimidating and irritating way as she slammed the door open.

Toby took a few steps back in surprise at Tabby’s hostility.

"Tabby's entire expression softened when she saw Toby

"Oh.." her entire expression softened, and defensive body posture dropped as she looked at the curly-haired boy before her.

Then he broke out into an awkward laugh.

"Well, hey to you too," he said, brushing off her hostility from a few moments ago.

"I'm so so sorry I didn't mean-," Tabby began to apologize profusely as she held her hands out in front of her shaking them and taking a step back to brace for his following action or lack thereof.

"It's okay. I just wanted to come over to check up on you. To be honest, you kinda look like shit," said Toby honestly.

"Well, I was trying to suffocate myself in my blankets, but I just ended up falling asleep, and I don't remember doing that. So that explains why I look and feel like shit," explained Tabby nonchalantly.

"Well, that answers my next question."

"Psh, what are you talking about? I'm fine," she said rather arrogantly with a tired, lazy smile leaning against her doorframe.

"Are you?"

Tabby tried to keep up her mature, tough girl facade and tried to keep eye contact with him, but that quickly dropped the longer she looked at her, and she could no longer keep eye contact with him.

"No, not really," she said quietly, making sure no one else heard her beside him as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Absolutely not"

They just kind of stood there awkwardly, not knowing what else to say to each other, shifting uncomfortably.

"Is there anything else you wanted?" said Tabby being the first one to break the awkward silence.

"Oh..erm...maybe...I just wanted to talk, I guess."

"Oh? What about?"

"Just a few questions I have."

Tabby had that dawning look of realization, and then she sighed. She knew what he was referring to about what happened back there when she killed the father and how she acted after. And she did silently promise him through looks that she would explain everything to him the best that she could.

"Come in, I guess," said Tabby as she moved out of the way to let him in.

Toby cautiously walked in as this was her territory now. Her room was very bare for the most part. The bed was messed up slightly from her sleeping in it. A few files for the mission and pictures of her old group and her family were on her bedside table.

"Sorry, it's not much," it's said sheepishly when she noticed him looking around her room.

"It's fine, really," he reassured her as he sat on the edge of her bed.

"Okay, shoot, what do you want to know?" she asked as she sat next to him.

"What was that back there? When you killed the dad? Because that was something else entirely almost suffocating."

"Straight to the point, I like your style," she took a deep breath and began to explain.

"That...That wasn't me back, wasn't I mean, it was but not entirely," Tabby tried to explain.

"It was almost like you enjoyed it. I have never seen so much pure unadulterated anger before," Toby added quietly.

"Oh, believe me, I didn't enjoy it at all. I mean, I may be Karma, but I enjoy seeing what others have coming to them. But I don't enjoy doing the dirty work for that to happen. I never had to do the dirty work until now. That's what the other people at Rosewood were for. Trust me, I never enjoyed killing, and I never will. Unless it comes to Horatio, then I can and will enjoy the fuck out of that, but he's the only exception."

Toby looked a little better at her explanation. It was nice to know that he wasn't alone, and she wasn't like most people in the Pocket. Toby thought that Tabby was spoiled at Rosewood since she said she didn't have to do any dirty work and had others do her bidding, but he knew better. Tabby didn't act spoiled. He hadn't known her for long, but he could already tell that she had earned everything she had at that place through lots of sacrifices, blood, sweat, tears, hard work, and dedication. He already knew a bit of Horatio from when they first met. From the way she talked about him constantly, he assumed that something more personal went down between them. Horatio killing her friends was the last straw for her.

"As for how I carried it out, I did what I always do in a fight. I went for the throat, and I let my emotions carry me through the killing of all of my hatred and anger and pure spite. I let my Rosewood and personal darkness consume me and work for me. I lost everything, and well, when you lose everything, you fall back on what you know. This was why you felt suffocated, and it usually causes a blackout. I honestly can't remember exactly what I did. I only know vaguely of what happened only because of the aftermath, and I'm not stupid. I can two and two together, which was one of the reasons why I was so out of it after. Basically, my brain was rebooting, and that took a lot of energy out of me."

"That..actually explains a lot. You were just I don't even know how to explain it."

"If you actively go looking for something you don't understand, knowing full well the consequences and STILL choosing to do so when others, especially innocent children, would be affected by your actions, then yeah, I don't have any sympathy for you. I have no sympathy for selfish parents. I can't fucking stand them, and I won't tolerate them," she went through a roller coaster of emotions. It started as conviction, then white-hot anger to cold, calculating and resolute.

"What about after, though?"

"What do you mean?" she tried to play dumb.

"I'm not stupid," He cut the bullshit," I saw that you were having a hard time restraining yourself from helping those kids."

Tabby opened her mouth to start explaining, but nothing came out. She looked over to her pictures of her family and friends and her little brother. Then quickly looked back over at Toby.

"Growing up...I always had to take care of the people in my life, whether it was my mom, dad, stepdad, others in my family, my old group at Rosewood, and some of the younger kids at Rosewood. Once I was established, my reputation grew. I was just always put in that position, and I guess it's just instinct at this point," said Tabby slowly, like she was thinking.

She was choosing her words carefully. She didn't trust him enough to talk in-depth about her brothers, especially Adam. She didn't trust herself enough not to give out too much information that would put her baby brother in danger, especially around someone who could snap at any time and go out to find him and kill him. She wasn't stupid and would never forgive herself knowing that she got Adam killed because she would have been foolish enough to trust. She was also sure that he wouldn't understand that she had to raise her little brother since she was nine for most of her life but especially for his first three years. So she had already developed the mother instinct, and well once a mom, always a mom. That will never change, killer or not.

Toby nodded thoughtfully at what she said. That made sense for Tabby. Being put in the caretaker position all her life, it would be hard to break out of that so soon. He also knew that she wasn't telling him the whole truth either with how careful she was with picking and choosing her words. Although he was impatient and wanted to pry more information from her about that, he wasn't exactly willing to face Tabby's wrath if he poked any more information out of her on that subject and made her uncomfortable. She would have ended this conversation quickly by any means necessary, and he didn't want that. He tried to keep talking to her, so he had to play by her rules. He seemed to be more successful that way as he was the only one she spoke to consistently.

"What happened at the beginning? When we were on our way to the side mission, I mean? I could tell you weren't doing too well," he changed the subject.

Tabby took another deep breath and sighed, and looked away from him.

She looked back at him.

"I...was remembering something similar that happened to me in my past when I was younger. I didn't do it, and it wasn't my fault!" she started slowly and then began to talk faster, almost like she was trying to prove her innocence.

"Was this what she was about to tell me earlier when we were crawling through the passageway? Before she switched over to that other story?" Toby said in thought.

"Let's just say I helped clean up the aftermath and hide the evidence of someone taking away a couple of kid's mother, and I disobeyed direct orders; I wouldn't have put myself in that position, to begin with," she looked away and said bitterly.

“I still don’t see how it was your fault or why you still feel bad about it since that’s in the past, and it wasn’t your fault,” said Toby honestly.

"Toby, I was raised as a soldier. That's just how it was. I was lucky I didn't get off with worse for disobeying direct orders," she said a little more sharply.

“And it’s not the incident that I'm still hung up on. I'm past that now or I like to think that I am," she continued," It's the fact that on that said night, I proved that he was right about me all along. That I am a monster amongst other things that they said to me, and I ended up proving him right again today with what I did. It’s not the actual event itself. It’s just that I’m a very spiteful person. I didn’t spend ten-plus years fighting him, kicking, hitting, and screaming every step of the way, trying to prove him wrong for that battle to end in vain. Only for that to end in defeat, " she looked away in shame, struggling to hold back tears.

After all, a soldier, leader, and warrior doesn't cry.

Toby looked at her in pity. He felt like he understood her slightly better now. He understood what it was like trying to prove your monster of a dad wrong only to fail. Unlike himself, however, Tabby proved to be a lot stronger than she looked physically and from the way she spoke mentally too. He figured she would keep fighting anyway to prove him wrong because that's the type of person she was. She won't go down without a fight and will continue to fight until her last breath.

He'd be lying if he didn't say that he didn't feel his heartbeat faster and flutter whenever he was with her or thought of her. He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, though.

But back to the present. Tabby continued to avoid eye contact with him. She was deathly quiet and kept her hands in her lap, making herself as small as possible in her room. He knew he needed to say and do something and fast.

"Hey, Tabby…" he started gently

She still didn't look up.

"Tabby...Please...look at me."

Tabby still didn't move.

Toby leaned over and grabbed her hands, holding them in his, which made Tabby's head snap up with her wide hazel eyes looking into his brown puppy dog eyes that secretly made her melt for some reason, but she wasn't complaining wasn't moment. He noticed that she didn't pull away but relaxed more into his touch, so he took that as a sign to continue.

"You will never be your dad, and you will never be like him; wanna know why? Because you clearly show regret and remorse for what you did in the past. You try to take the brunt of the damage for everyone else, even if you have nothing to do with it. You try to do what's right no matter the odds. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. You stand up for yourself no matter who the person is. You're intelligent, clever, brilliant, no non-sense, radiant. That alone makes you twice the person he will ever be. You're a good leader through and through, and pretty soon, if you are patient and willing, you can have everything you had back at Rosewood and more!" Toby was rambling at this point. He was using what he knew about her from the last three days and just word vomiting compliments, and he knew what she wanted out of this life potentially. He was doing what his sister, Lyra used to do for him to comfort him. She would just spit out compliments towards him until he felt a little better about himself. Maybe that would work for Tabby. He squeezed her hands in reassurance.

Tabby was at a loss for words at what he said. The only one who ever went that far for her was Autumn, so you can imagine the number of emotions she was going through. She appreciated that Toby picked up on the little things about her, which showed that he must care somewhat. Tabby could feel her face heating up, and the blush creeps across her cheeks to her ears at the compliments he was giving her, even though it felt like he was just saying shit to say shit. She didn't understand how Toby had a brighter outlook on her future than she did. If she still had a future, that is. But that meant that he wanted her to stick around a bit longer.

Tabby was aware that she was staring at him and him at her, not to mention that he still hasn't let go of her hands, not that she wanted him to. They were warm and calloused and scarred up. A nice match to her cold, calloused, and scarred-up hands. Maybe if she didn't say anything about the hand-holding, he wouldn't stop.

"I see that you used a Charlottes Web reference. Radiant," she said, trying to break the silence between them.

"Ah, a woman of c-culture I see," said Toby as he jerked his head to the side harshly.

Tabby and Toby both laughed at each other's remarks, still holding each other's hands before they were interrupted by a certain someone clearing their throat. They quickly pulled away from each other once they realized that it was Masky leaning against her door frame. With his arms crossed with a smirk and his eyebrow raised.

They had kind of forgotten that the door was open.

"Oh..erm...Hey, masky... erm Tim. What are you doing, and how long have you been standing there?" Toby asked with an awkward smile, never mind the fact that his face was beet red from embarrassment.

Tabby kept her head down to avoid looking at Masky with her guilty caught look and to avoid showing him her red face. She kept her hands in her lap, not saying a word.

"I came to tell that one that I'm about to start dinner since you told me that she liked to watch her food be made," said Tim pointing at Tabby

"When was this?" she asked Toby in disbelief and surprise. Like she couldn't believe that he'd tell someone else what she told him.

"It was when you decided to run up the stairs to explore first. I figured it would be good for everyone to know since we're going to be living together for a while," said Toby with a shrug.

"I- That's a fair point, I guess," conceded Tabby.

"I'll be downstairs in the kitchen when you're ready. I'll let you two finish up doing what you were doing," said Tim with a smirk before he got up and sauntered down the hallway.

"Now wait a minute-" began Toby as he got up.

"IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!" screeched Tabby as she got up at the speed of light and bolted, running past Toby down the hallway and stairs, kind of leaving Toby behind in the hallway.

Toby just kind of stared at Tabby's disappearing form dumbfounded, but then he smiled a little to himself. She would have to face Masky herself sooner or later, and he wasn't always going to be there with her. Besides, they could use one on one time.

Tabby skidded to a halt, almost passing the entryway of the kitchen.

"Now listen here-" she said out of breath before being cut off by a delicious smell.

Tabby made a beeline through the kitchen, following her nose and making her way next to Masky.

"What are you making? And where is the prick?" asked Tabby, trying to peer into the pot.

"It's a chicken stew, see?" he said as he lifted the lid for her to see the meat and the chicken broth thickening up with beans, corn, and green beans. "As for the 'prick,' if you're referring to Hoodie, then he's in the room having time to himself. What's it to you

Tabby shrugged," I just pegged you guys as thick as thieves, rarely seen without the other in tow."

"Speaking of which, where is Toby? I thought he was trailing along behind you."

"Ah shit, I left him in the hallway, but I assume he went back to his room until dinner was made," she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

Masky nodded and continued to stir the pot, not saying anything, while Tabby was watching him like a hawk, not saying anything either, which made him uncomfortable.

"So uh, how are you?" he tried to start a conversation.

"Fucking miserable overall, thanks for asking," said Tabby with a smile.

"Oh uh do... You want to talk about it?"

"Absolutely fucking not," said Tabby immediately.

He simply shrugged and went back to doing what he was doing.

Tabby was slightly confused. Why wasn't he poking and prodding her for more information like every other adult did?

"That's it? You're not going to poke and prod me for more information, and then when you do get it, I get into trouble as every adult does?"

"I'm taking you've never had a positive adult interaction before, have you?"

"They either talk to me if they want something or if I'm in trouble. I try to generally avoid them when I can"

"I see."

Masky continued to cut up some herbs, but he wasn't holding the knife properly, which made Tabby lose her shit.

"No! No! No! Move out of the way before you hurt yourself! If you can't hold a knife properly, you shouldn't use it. Here." Tabby pushed him out of the way and took over.

"This is how you hold it properly," she showed him how and proceeded to use her wrist to hold the vegetables in place and speedily cut up the carrots and remaining herbs and put them in the pot.

"You know how to cut and cook?"

"I would hope, so I had had to cook for a household of five, and I worked in a kitchen for two years. Cooking is a lot like fighting."

"How- explain?" said Masky confused.

"Well, how I was taught to fight was to have a wide stance because I'm usually facing my enemies head-on, and I'm uncoordinated as fuck. A kitchen is a busy place. There are always people whizzing about carrying heavy hot pots, sheet pans, and heavy objects in general. It's always good to have a wide stance so that you won't get your ass knocked down if someone knocks into you. Like so," explained Tabby as she had her signature wide stance facing the counter and then turned to face Masky in the same pose.

Masky was in his fighting stance to humor her. Tabby frowned.

"Oh Jesus, I've seen eight-year-olds with better form than you. Yours is so sloppy. I take it that close-range fighting isn't exactly your strong suit, but we'll work on that!" she said bluntly.

"Spread those legs more like a hoe and straighten up your back. I know you're old, but I don't think that you're that old," said Tabby as she kicked his legs further apart and went behind him and pulled his shoulders back to straighten up his back.

"I'm only twenty-six!" but the six was a little more high-pitched when she almost kicked his legs from out underneath him and grabbed his shoulders, pulling them back, making his back crack.

"Yeah, as I said, old man," said Tabby playfully as she went back to wash the cutting board and knife.

"But I like to be well-rounded with a knife. I know how to use it in more ways than one. For example, suppose someone behind you tries to steal your food while you, this time in the middle of making it. In that case, you can always do this," she turned the knife over into the proper way to hold it in a fight and stopped just short of a couple of inches from his stomach. She just smiled sweetly at him but had that vicious wolfish look in her eyes, silently saying, 'That was payback for trying to kill me twice three days ago,' and then went back to doing the dishes.

Masky took a sharp breath and sucked in a breath and his stomach. His eyes widened in suspense as he met her eyes. He knew that she was trying to communicate with him by showing off what she knew and hoping that he was impressed. And he was she was better off than most of the newbie proxies. He didn't have to start from scratch with her as he did with Toby. He would never admit it, but he daresay that she could teach him a thing or two. He would also never admit that fear ran across his face for a split second. He quickly realized that Tabby was a little unpredictable, a joker card. I mean, one minute she was happy as she could be explaining her thoughts and what she knew, and then the next minute, she probably would have been happy to kill him, and she was staring him down, calculating. And then she just went back to doing dishes like nothing ever happened. He also had a sneaking suspicion that what she did was payback was when he tried to kill her twice the night they met. She seemed to be the type to hold grudges and try to enforce some sort of we're to those that did her wrong. So he took it for how it was.

A warning.

"Remind me not to come between you and your food then," said Masky regaining his confidence and trying to keep things light.

"A wise lesson to learn." she smiled over at him and checked the pot.

"You said that you worked in a kitchen for a while. Was that your first job?" he asked as he tried to break the awkward silence that came over them.

"Like first, first job, or legally my first job?"

"I- you had other jobs before you were able to work?" he asked, equally confused.

"I mean, I worked as a paper girl and under the table as a newspaper reporter when I was twelve."

"Why so young?"

"Tabby took a deep breath," Growing up, I always knew that if I wanted something, I would have to get it myself. I knew no one would save my friends and me in our world. If I wanted to get myself and them out of Maplehood Creek once we all graduated from Rosewood, I would have to do that myself. That's what you do as a good leader; you do everything in your power to ensure that your group will have a future even if you have to put yourself in harm's way to do so. I originally planned to keep working there until I was eighteen or later as a permanent job. I got paid good money. The day I turned eighteen and graduated from Rosewood, I was moving out of Maplehood Creek for good. I had hoped that I could do that way back when."

"A dedicated leader," Masky said in thought.

"So you did a potentially dangerous job just so you and your friends could escape one day?"

"That's what you do as a good leader. You do everything in your power to ensure your group survives the next day. You do everything with the best interest of the group in mind, even if that means putting yourself in the line of fire," said Tabby

"Wait, what do you mean by dangerous?" she asked, confused when she finally processed what he said.

"I mean, did you know of us?" he asked more seriously.

Tabby went deathly quiet and shifted uncomfortably.

"That's a loaded question. Do you really want to know the answer to that?"

"Yes"

Tabby sighed and rubbed her face.

"Then you might want to sit. This is going to be a long explanation."

Masky obeyed and sat down in the chair at the table lazily, holding his cheek in his hand.

"I've always been able to see shit ever since I could remember. I was gifted with the sight of the paranormal. When I was four, a past babysitter of mine tried to summon something through an ouija board, and I don't remember much of that night. I blacked out for most of it, and I can't tell you the whole story even if I wanted to. All I remember was that I was sneaking downstairs to see what was up and see if I could do anything about it, and I remember feeling suffocated by this. I don't know how to explain it, but it was a dark and powerful aura from the said entity. It grabbed me, and I was about to be a sacrifice, but apparently, the bitch and the entity came up with the agreement that I would be burdened with the gift of knowledge of the supernatural. And that's when I blacked out. I can't remember a thing after."

"Why does that sound vaguely familiar? A while back, we had a mission involving a girl using children to try to summon the Slenderman."

"It was probably the same person she wasn't caught or punished for what she did with me, so it stands to reason she would have continued to do the same thing with someone else until she was stopped. But it wasn't the Slenderman that was summoned. I think I would remember a faceless being, and when I did meet the Slenderman, the aura was off. It wasn't the same as what showed up that night. And if it was the Slenderman, then why wait until now? It would have been easier to grab me right then and there when I was more moldable. It doesn't make sense, and I don't think it's something he would do."

"What happened next?" Masky prodded

"Well, I was severely traumatized, as you can imagine, but after being bedridden and miserable for months on end, my stepdad had enough and inspired me to get better on my own. I read everything I could about the supernatural. After all, he taught me that you can't be afraid of something if you understand what it is. It helped me cope with all of the knowledge that I received. It was too soon that I had no idea where to put it all. It helped that I had something to categorize some of that information then. The knowledge that didn't belong in Maplehood Creek yet somehow belongs here," she gestured towards him and to where the others were.

"And I've pieced together the semi-complete story through sheer force and lots of painful migraines. I eventually got better. Nowadays, I'll occasionally have that reoccurring nightmare of that night. Still, I think that's just my brain trying to process some of the unprocessed trauma, and I'll wake up with a headache in the center of my forehead, but that's nothing that a little ibuprofen can't solve. Anyways, I'm pretty sure that's like 30% of what led me here."

Masky just stared at her with his mouth slightly agape, letting the information sink in. That explained a lot about her. It made him wonder just precisely why he didn’t kill her that night. He could very quickly have gone against Toby and just gutted her right then and there and be done with it. Yet, at the same time, Toby may push the boundaries more times than not, but if push came to shove, he’d be obedient. He usually wouldn’t be so insistent unless it were for a reason. Toby generally has good intuition about these types of things. Maybe he sensed something in her that was other, and maybe Masky felt something in the kid that reminded him of himself at one point. Perhaps something led her here, and this is where she’s supposed to be.

“I’m still not seeing how that relates to you knowing about us,” he said after some time.

“I’m getting there; hold your horses.”

“Anyways, I got older, I moved on, and I got better. It seemed to fade away with time. One of the first life lessons I learned early on was that you’d have to get it yourself if you want something. I knew from early on that I didn’t want to be stuck in Maplehood all my life, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be stuck at Rosewood forever either. I promised my group that I’d get them out of there too. We would be that one in a million group to graduate together and in one piece. So, I got a job as a papergirl for the summer,” began Tabby.

“And that paid decent too. Plus, the extra tips in food from the older adults were a bonus. However, they were also short-staffed and needed all of the help they could get. They quickly discovered that I had a knack for gathering information, so I was hired as the newspaper reporter. My job was to schedule the interviews, conduct and record them and provide the first rough draft and transcripts for the images for the newspaper and the rest of the staff took care of the rest. I got paid a good decent amount in hush money because technically, I wasn’t legal to work as anything else other than a papergirl at the time. Still, they were desperate, and I certainly wasn’t complaining. So while I did my paper route, I also did the interviews if they were on my way. Sure it was demanding and time-consuming, but I’d rather be doing that than be at home, and I loved what I did. I got to satisfy my thirst for curiosity and knowledge and pry for information without being in trouble for it since it was my job, and I got to write. What was there not to love?”

“Now to answer your question finally and why I said yes and no. I always knew something was going on with Maplehood than meets the eye. It was just instinct to my younger self. Something was just darker and off about the whole town, but growing up with that, you just get used to it and don’t give it a second thought. And when I was gifted with my knowledge, it amplified that much more. It didn’t take long to put two and two together when I got my job. I wasn’t stupid. I pieced together the odd killings, the sporadic missing people gone without a trace. It couldn’t have been one person, most people are too lazy to put forth that much effort, and there wasn’t a pattern with the killings. If it were a single person, they would have been a pattern by then. It’s hard to stay random forever. So it had to be a group of people or many groups. So I knew something was going on, but I just didn’t know what. However, I also knew better than actively looking for something I didn’t understand. I learned that real quick THAT night. That would have been different if it were just me; I would have kept pushing. I would go down, crashing and burning. But I had others to take care of. I didn’t have the luxury to be selfish, and it wouldn’t have been fair to them. Besides, I figured that I was walking a fine line if I just minded my own business and kept it surface level while still giving the public what they wanted. As long as you all kept doing your thing and providing me with my paycheck and I kept doing what I was doing, I saw no problem.”

“So what made you stop?” he asked.

Tabby sighed,” It was getting towards the end of summer. I was heading into 7th grade, and I knew that I couldn’t balance school and work at the same time back then. 7th grade would prove to be a whole different ball game, as I came to find out. I was going to quit in the last week of August, and at the time, I believed that I couldn’t be punished for doing be a job because I was doing what I was told, and I was taught that usually you don’t get punished for doing what you’re told. But that’s not to say that someone else couldn’t punish me because they were doing what they were told. Anyways, it was a week before I was initially going to quit. I came home from work, and the door to my apartment was slightly ajar. Automatically I knew something was wrong here, so I was on edge, and I proceeded cautiously.”

“And what would have you done if you did find someone?” he asked, amused.

“I was about to throw hands. You would have caught these tiny twelve-year-old fists. Back then, I didn’t understand the concept of picking and choosing my battles. I chose all, and I would have attempted to fight all of you at once. You don’t fuck with a Rosewood kid. Anyways, nothing was out of place in my apartment, and the door to my room was open, but nothing was messed up in there either. Still, one of my drawers was open, and it was the one I was secretly saving my money in since I wasn’t old enough for a bank account. I didn’t trust my mom to open one for me since she would have used my hard-earned money, and I didn’t tell my stepdad where it was because he would have taken it from me, and then I would never get out of that town or place when the time came. Come to find out, I was robbed—all $2,000 worth. All the proof I had was that my drawer was messed up. All my hard work was in vain. Now I was no fool; I knew a sign when I see one I know how to take a hint to quit. So I did the very next day,” she finished.

Masky had the lightbulb go off in his head at Tabby’s story. He vaguely remembered hearing an older proxy brag about how much money he stole from a kid he was supposed to scare off as a warning and a message for getting too close to the Slenderman when he first started. It worked.

But he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“So anyway, that was my short-lived career as a journalist,” said Tabby as she nodded and she went back to stirring the pot.

“I’m…sorry that happened,” Masky said unsurely.

“Don’t be like I said. I needed to quit anyways because 7th grade was coming up, which would be more challenging than the 6th grade, and I couldn’t balance school and work at the same time back then. Plus, the week after, shit took a turn for the worst and then continued to go downhill for a while. I could barely balance school and deal with the shit going on, let alone work added to it. So I guess it was a good thing that I quit early,” Tabby said cheerily.

Tabby took a spoon and taste-tested it. She let out an audible ‘mmm,’ and her ears perked up. Masky just smirked.

“Okay, so maybe I was a little quick to judge. It happens. I’m sorry,” admitted Tabby.

“I knew you’d come around sooner or later,” Masky said rather arrogantly.

“Shut up! Just because I like your food means absolutely nothing between us,” said Tabby going back to her tsundere self.

“However, since your food is good and earned yourself a tidbit of advice, I’m going to say this from an ex-leader to another. I may be new to this line of work, but I know how a group is supposed to work. All I ask for is don’t fight my battles for me, don’t be a coward, and give me honest information to work with. A group can’t work if there’s no open communication between any group members, including withholding information,” said Tabby quietly. She had a darkened expression on her face like she knew from experience.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked uncomfortably.

“As I said, you’ve earned it, and I may not like you as a person, but you seem to be a good leader, and you seem to know what you’re doing. I have to respect that. Not only that, but you seem to have a good thing going for you. I’d hate to see that ruined because of a miscommunication or because you’re too scared to tell your group something because you’re afraid that it will put them in danger or that they’ll reject you, and then you’ll be left alone. I think my group would still be alive if I just told them everything that happened right from the get-go. That way, there would never have been that break in trust for a while, and they would have told me what was going on, and I could have saved them sooner. But I didn’t, and that was the first mistake I made as a leader,” said Tabby.

“Then what should I do if that opportunity arises?”

"That depends on what your reasoning is for not telling your group. If it's because if you told them what you did, it would put them in danger? Then communicate that you've done fucked up, but you can't tell them the whole story because if you did them, they would be put in danger, and part of being a good leader is protecting your group from danger to keep them out of harm's way. It's for their own good, and they'll thank you later. Is its because you're scared of what they'll think of you after? You tell them anyways. Regardless if it's the most fucked up thing you've ever done in your life, even if it seems like you'll be a traitor to your group, you tell them anyways. Yes, things will be tense, awkward, and rocky for a while hell, maybe they'll downright hate you for a while too. However, if they're your real friends and loyal to you, then they'll work through it with you, and it will all come to pass. Because in the end, you showed them that you trusted them enough not to abandon you. You trusted them enough to accept that you fucked up and owned up to it, and were honest with them. Most people respect that. In the long run, when things come to pass, they'll be more likely to be honest with you about their things because you were honest with them," finished Tabby.

"That's excellent advice."

"Take it from someone who was a failed leader," said Tabby giving the stew one final stir and testing the carrots to see if they were done cooking.

"I think that dinner is made!" said Tabby as she ran out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

"DINNER!” shouted Tabby up the stairs at the boys to get their attention.

Toby was the first to run down the stairs whizzing by Tabby at the mention of food. Tabby laughed. Hoodie was the one who grumbled and walked down the stairs like a normal person.

“You didn’t have to yell,” he snapped at her.

“It got your attention, didn’t it?” said Tabby, clearly not giving a fuck that it bothered him.

Toby was giddy as he filled his bowl up and went towards the table to sit. Tim always made the best food even though he rarely got to have Tim’s cooking. Hoodie let out a groan.

“You made that again?!”

“Yup, just like when we were in college, right?” he nudged Hoodie in the arm, which he in turn scoffed.

“Don’t remind me,” he took his food and sat at the table across from Toby.

Masky filled his bowl and sat down next to Hoodie, and TabbyTabbyTabby filled her bowl last out of habit from back at home, making sure everyone else ate first before she did or didn’t eat at all in the later years. She took her bowl, sat next to Toby, and scarfed it down like she wouldn’t see food again.

“God, don’t you ever get fed?” asked Hoodie in disgust.

“Nope! My stepdad made me eat nothing but rice for the last six months, so I either ate at work or I ate once every three days! Or I stole food from the stores! And it’s common sense at Rosewood not to eat or trust the food thIt'ssince It’s most likely poisoned! And the last time I ate was yesterday, and I had a chicken salad I think?” chirped Tabby.

Hoodie just went quiet after that didn't he didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t expecting Tabby to be so open and honest. It threw him off guard.

Tabby was already on her third bowl and was going on her fourth.

I think that you’ve had more than enough and need to cut back on the food intake,” said Hoodie as he took another bite.

“Brian! She just said that she was literally starving! If she’s going to be of any use to us, she needs to get to a healthy weight and have some lean muscle on her bones. Look at her! She probably weighs 90 pounds soaking wet!” said Masky alarmed.

“Number one, don’t call me Brian in front of her! Number two, if she is going to be of any use to us, she also needs to watch what she eats! You know the boss doesn’t take too kindly to sick and weak people,” argued Hoodie back.

Tabby went quiet and had a deadpan expression on her face. She put her bowl down on the table and went over to the fridge. She got out a stick of butter and ate the whole thing, never breaking eye contact with him and slowly flipping him off.

“Don’t tell me what can't and can't eat,” she said calmly as she finished and went back to sit down.

Masky just kind of stared at her at a loss for words. Oh boy, she was going to take a while to learn to do as she’s told. On the other hand, Hoodie looked at her in awe and disgust. He looked like he just got smacked in the face, and he did figuratively speaking. She just got up and blatantly disrespect him. Didn’t she know who he was? He didn’t know how to react that he was pissed that she just blatantly disrespected him; however, he was also mildly impressed that she had the guts to do so. That said, a lot about her. Also, the fact that she could eat that whole stick of butter in one go was slightly impressive, too, despite it being disgusting. Toby looked very impressed with her, which sent butterflies to Tabby's stomach.

“Well, that worked better the last time I tried that,” said Tabby nonchalantly.

“You’ve done that before?!” said Masky on the verge of breaking.

“Yeah, I was twelve at the time, and I have a fast metabolism as it is, so I eat a lot. But My stepdad said that I was taking up too much space and resources and needed to cut back on the food intake. So I got up and went to the fridge and did the same thing I just did. Only Karma came back and bit me in the ass, and I ended up choking on the butter. I got an ass beating after that and was made to eat nothing but the fat and grizzle for a week straight,” explained Tabby"

“I-,” began Hoodididn't he didn’t know what to say to that, so he trailed"off.

“Jesus,” said Masky in response.

“Although nothing will ever beat the time I completely roasted my stepdad. I’m still waiting for something to top that. I was also twelve, and my mom bought this new cleaning supply. Naturally, it came time to use it, and my mom wasn’t there, and neither of us knew how to use it. So he said, ‘you’re a woman shouldn’t you know this?’ Now I don’t know what possessed me to say it. Still, I had that response ready, locked and loaded and ready to shoot,” She was imitating a gun,” So I said, ‘you’re a man shouldn’t you be the one fixing things around the house and be the one working and bringing home money instead of mom?’ since he’s a stay at home dad. There’s nothing wrong with that as long as you do your goddamn job. He didn’t have anything to say to me, so he just walked away for a while—kid one parent zero. However, I got an ass beating for that later on as payback. But my god, it was well worth it.”

She sounded like she was a conquering hero fighting the good fight.

“It seems to me your spitefulness has always backfired,” commented Hoodie as he took a sip of his drink.

“It’s not about what I do. It’s about the message I send out. It’s the principle of it,” retorted Tabby.

“You always have something to say, don’t you?” he said, getting irritated.

“Isn’t that how a conversation supposed to work, no?” said Tabby being a smartass.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” he sneered.

“I think I’m fucking hilarious,” she said with a smirk.

“Yeah? And that’s why you’re going to get your ass constantly kicked.”

“What else is new? Why? Because I refuse to take what shitty power-hungry adults give me? Because I refuse to make their jobs easier, abusing their power and those under them and helpless. Adults love to dish out rules and consequences on their whim, but when they do something wrong and try to set up boundaries, oh, now you’re a problem child, and it becomes a big controversy. It's funny how adults refuse to treat anyone else as an equal and refuse to be held accountable for their actions,” spat out Tabby.

“And that’s why you’re never going to make a good network system!” he snapped back.

“No, that’s because I refuse to be compliant and just let the adults have their way with me to make their jobs easier. Fuck that. They hate me because I’m the only one who will ever call them out on their shit and hold them accountable regardless of who they are, and they aren’t any different from everyone else. Because I demand to be treated as an equal?” said Tabby viciously.

“You need to earn that respect!” he yelled, slamming his hands on the table and standing up.

“Why? Because I’ve had to be an adult ever since I was four and had adult responsibilities thrust upon me? Because I was always treated as an adult when it came to duties and punishments, but when I demand that I’d be treated as an equal since I'm forced into being one of you when I request my output to match my input, it becomes a problem? And I’m being disrespectful? Do you even hear yourself? News flash, just because you are older and have a fancy position doesn’t mean dick shit! YOU. NEED.TO. EARN. THAT. RESPECT. TOO.” said Tabby mocking his words.

“YOU INSULANT BITCH BRAT!”

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU HAVEN’T EARNED THAT SHIT FROM ME, AND YOU DON’T KNOW DICK SHIT ABOUT ME!” yelled Tabby with such viciousness and venom laced in her voice.

Hoodie was seething in rage at Tabby’s refusal to back down and that mouth on her. He cocked his fist back about to hit her, and Tabby was about to do the same before Masky got up and grabbed both of their wrists with an iron grip. Hoodie sucked in a breath, and Tabby’s eyes widened in suspense at what he would do next.

“There will be no more arguments happening in this group or at the dinner table. I simply won’t allow it. If something like this happens again, there will be consequences for both of you. Do you understand me?” he asked coldly, with his grip tightening around both of their wrists to make sure that they understood that he was serious.

Tabby quickly nodded and looked down to avoid eye contact with either one.

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered.

“Ugh, fine,” said Hoodie, still pissed.

“Good, now both of you need to leave the table and go cool off,” ordered Masky.

“Oh my fucking god, are you serious? I’m not a fucking child!”

“Now, Hoodie! That’s an order!” he was having none of his shit tonight.

Hoodie paused and stared at Masky and then glared daggers at Tabby. If looks could kill, that would be one of them. He finally left the kitchen, shoving past Tabby to head out onto the porch and leaving Tabby to head up to her room.

Tabby slammed the door closed when she got into her room, and she was so pissed that her wars were rash like from anger, and she was pacing around her room.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” she hissed to herself.

“Someone needs to teach him a lesson,” said her conscience in a sing-song voice.

“He’s lucky I didn’t kick his fucking teeth in!”

“Where was Toby during the whole thing?”

Tabby paused for a minute and calmed down at the mention of Toby’s name.

“I-I don’t know…he was there at the beginning…but I was too busy arguing to pay attention. I hope he’s okay and that I didn’t scare him off. I think we scared him off and triggered his flight instinct. Oh god, I hope I didn’t make him hate me!” said Tabby worriedly. She was on the verge of tears. She couldn’t bear the thought of Toby hating her.

Suddenly there was a rapid three knocks on her door that snapped her out of her thoughts. It wasn’t EJ’s or Toby’s knocks, so who was it?

“Who is it?” she called out in her tired and jaded voice.

“It’s Masky,” said the voice from behind the door

Tabby hurriedly went over, opened the door, and stood in the doorway.

“Yes? Can I help you?” defensively asked Tabby.

“Can we talk?’ he asked softly, sounding just as tired.

Tabby sighed and rubbed her face, and stepped aside for him to come in. Masky stepped in. She knew she would have to face him sooner or later. She sat on the edge of her bed, too tired to fight and argue. Masky sat next to her. She was ready to listen.

“How’s your wrist?”

“I’ve had worse. I’ve almost had my ankles broken by my stepdad with his iron grip from him dragging me out of bed and through the house if I didn’t get up at 5 am. This was nothing,” said Tabby

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Say some traumatic shit that happened to you in response to anything that slightly bad happens?”

“A lot of people expect for the simplistic insults or whatever mildly inconvenience to hurt me, and they don’t. I’ve had worse. People need to understand that I’m not normal; it will take a lot more even to attempt to hurt me. I don’t know; I guess it’s a coping mechanism and a shield of sorts. You can’t hurt something if they’re already hurt. I beat you at your own game,” explained Tabby.

Masky sighed,” This isn’t a competition. We’re not out trying to get you.”

“Bullshit”

“I’m serious.”

“Maybe you are, but that’s not to say that the others aren’t.”

Masky sighed and rubbed his face. He knew she was referring to Hoodie.

“Hoodie…is Hoodie. He has his issues too. He has a big ego and needs to be reminded of his place from time to time. He’s just like you in a sense, and he hates that. He hates that he’s met someone who isn’t afraid of him who calls him out on his shit. He hates how he met his match, and that’s why he’s been like he is to you,” Masky tried to explain.

Tabby listened carefully at Masky’s explanation. It sounded like her mom would explain why her stepdad was so hard on her and justify the abuse to make it semi-okay. It was because he hated himself so much, and she was just like him. Since her dad saw so much of himself in her, he took out his self-hatred on her. So that resonated with Tabby. Not only that, but she’s been without a group for so long she kind of forgotten that her actions affected others and that Hoodie was a person too; she had forgotten that people have their issues too, Not just her.

“I kinda fucked up, didn’t I?” she asked as she hung her head in shame and slunk her shoulders like a scolded child.

“Yeah, you did. But you realized that you fucked up, and that’s the important part. Now you know what to do to fix it. And with a few apologies and communications, everyone can move on from it.”

“Do you think that Toby hates me now?” asked Tabby meekly.

Masky furrowed his eyebrows in concern,” Why would he hate you?”

“For what happened tonight. With the yelling and arguing. I think I scared him off and triggered his fight or flight response and PTSD,” she tried to explain while shifting uncomfortably.

Masky shook his head at her,” Toby has the loyalty of a puppy dog, and he’s attached himself to you real quick. It wasn’t anything too bad if you apologized and explained yourself to him. He’ll be quick to forgive you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” said Masky as he ruffled her hair.

“Thanks, Masky,” she playfully pushed his hand away.

“Please, call me Tim. But only when we’re not working on the mission. Got it?”

“Tim. Got it,” said Tabby with a grin.

Masky got up to leave and headed towards her door.

“Mas- I mean Tim! Please! wait!” called out Tabby

Masky stopped and looked over his shoulder and at her.

“I-I’m sorry…For acting like a well bitch towards you and the rest of the group. You haven’t done anything to deserve that,” she said awkwardly.

“Well, I appreciate your apology, but I think it would be more beneficial if you said that to everyone else too, not just me,” he said gently, and with that, he disappeared out her door and around the corner.

Tabby made sure that he was out of sight before heading out to make her rounds of amends.

Tabby took a deep breath and knocked on Toby’s door.

“I hope that Tim was right about Toby not hating me,” she prayed silently.

Toby opened the door fast, which startled Tabby into jumping back a little, which caused Toby to jump back in return.

They both giggled a little.

“Hey, you need anything?” he asked.

“I was hoping that I could talk to you, please? And from the looks of it, you need help putting your room back together. You stress clean too?”

“How did you know?”

“You do the same thing I do to attempt to avoid a beating.”

“How often did that work for you?”

“It was a hit or miss more times than not. It was a lottery,” said Tabby honestly.

“Rarely did it work for me.”

“Can I come in, please?” she asked hopefully.

“Sure,” he let her inside.

Tabby looked around his room. He had a lot more going on than she did. He had a couple of weighted blankets messed up on the bed. Clothes were strewn about everywhere, and he had a fan going, and he had his radio set up on his dresser.

“Oh boy, here let me help you,” said Tabby as she began to organize his clothes into piles of shirts and pants.

Toby let her. He could tell that she felt guilty for something, so she tried to make it up to him.

“I’m…I’m sorry….” Tabby began,” For what happened tonight.”

“It’s okay, no need to apologize,” said Toby, quickly trying to brush this off and move past this.

“No, please let me explain,” said Tabby like she was commanding a room that caught Toby’s attention.

“I’m sorry for scaring you off and triggering your flight instinct. I haven’t been with a group in so long, and sometimes I forget that my actions affect others. That was unfair to you, and it wasn’t right of me to do,” explained Tabby.

“It’s okay. It was just an argument, and between you and me, he started it, and I was completely on your side.”

“Well, I appreciate the support,” said Tabby as she breathed a silent sigh in relief that he didn’t hate her, and you could see the weight being lifted off her shoulders.

“So now what?” asked Toby as he was folding his clothes.

“Well, when I get done talking to you, I’m going to attempt to talk to Hoodie, and hopefully, if all goes, the arguments should die down drastically and should not be that bad. I’m making my rounds to try to right my wrongs,” said Tabby, also helping him fold his clothes.

"Well, what are you still doing here? You might want to talk to him soon. The longer you put off talking to him, the longer he’s going to hold a grudge.”

“But he always holds grudges?” said Tabby, confused.

“Yeah, but it will be less if you talk to him soon.”

“Alright, Alright, I’m going!” she said as she dropped what she was doing and held her hands up in a surrendering manner, and began to back away and head towards the door.

“Good luck!” chirped Toby after her.

“Thanks, I’m going to need it!” Tabby called back.

Tabby made her way down the stairs and into the living room. She felt a cold draft coming from the front door. She saw that the front door was open, and through the closed screen door, she saw Hoodie leaning against the porch railing, staring out in the distance. Tabby took a deep breath to calm her nerves. He didn’t have to accept anything she said. All she had to do was say what she had to say and be done. She could leave knowing that she tried and was the bigger person. Once she was confident enough, she walked resolutely towards him.

She opened the screen door and knocked, which caught Hoodie’s attention.

“Can we talk?” she asked bravely.

Hoodie stared at her coldly for a few minutes, and she stared right back. She had a lot of audacity to try to talk to him. Still, she returned to him and asked if they could speak, so it must be for a reason. He admired her ambition so that he would give her a chance.

“What do you want?” he asked bluntly, still not facing her with his arms crossed.

“Look, I know we will never see anything eye to eye. However, I may be new to this line of work, but I used to be a leader and had my own group as well, so I understand how a group is supposed to work. And a group can’t work if we’re constantly at each other's throats. I’d like to think that we’re both adult enough to at least act civil towards each other for the greater good of the mission and the group, and we don’t have to hang out outside of that,” said Tabby in a regal manner.

Hoodie didn’t say anything, and he still didn’t turn to face her.

Tabby continued talking.

“I-I’m sorry…for what I said and how I acted as of late. I’m better than that. We’re better than that. It wasn’t right of me. It’s been a while since I’ve been back in a group, and I sometimes need to be put back in my place and called out on my shit. I also sometimes forget that you’re all people too and have your own issues. We’re all adults here; we should act like one,” she finished, and she looked uncomfortable at the end of it. You could tell that she wasn’t used to apologizing and taking responsibility for her actions.

Hoodie continued not to say anything. He will never say it to her face, but he was impressed at her ability to try to attempt to make things right. Not a lot of people do that, so it was very refreshing.

Tabby waited impatiently for a response from him or anything from him. Tabby huffed and turned to walk back inside once she realized that he wasn’t going to say anything.

“Whatever! I was never too good at this socializing shit anyways! I said what I wanted to say either take it or leave it!” snapped Tabby in a frustrated manner.

“Tabby, wait-,” he called out, still not facing her.

Tabby was already in the doorway but not precisely in the house just yet. She looked over her shoulder at him. Only to see that he turned his head to look at her. If jawlines could cut, his would. He had a nice side profile, and Tabby had to concede to the fact that at some angles, she guessed that some people would find him attractive. He tossed his head to the side as an invitation to come over. Tabby walked over and stood next to him, leaning on the railing of the porch taking in deep breaths of the sharp November cold air as it was running across her skin, leaving goosebumps.

“Cold?” he asked.

“Nah, I’ve had worse. In lots of layers and ripped jeans, I had to walk to school in -22 degree weather before. I almost got kidnapped on my way to school that day,” sniffed Tabby from the cold, making her nose run.

“Besides, my burning hatred, anger, and spite for everything keep me warm.”

“‘Kay there edgelord,” said Hoodie rolling his eyes.

“What about you?”

“You don’t feel cold if you’re disciplined,” he said.

Tabby and Hoodie stayed quiet, letting that small talk die out. It was really dark and peaceful out. If you listened carefully, you could hear the howling of the wind across the streets. It smelled like winter in the air with how cold it was.

“So…,” said Tabby trying to break the awkward silence.

“So…,” he repeated back.

“I don’t know. Do you have any questions for me?”

“A few actually now that you mentioned it.”

Tabby took a deep breath. She didn’t want to explain herself to him as she did with Toby. She hoped that he wouldn’t call her out on her shit for what happened after the mission.

“Okay, shoot,” said Tabby permitting him to go ahead.

“What were you running from that night? And why didn’t you run away when we met?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

“Fair enough,” began Tabby,” I suppose that I was trying to run from the inevitable outcome of death in my near future if I stayed where I was. I was trying to take it upon myself to change that course by running. There was nothing left for me back there. However, my original original original plan was that as soon as I turned 18 and graduated from Rosewood with my friends, I was moving out of Maplehood Creek and away from Rosewood for good and begin our lives the way we wanted to. I worked my ass off the last two years in the kitchen to save up enough money to get a hotel room for all of us and have enough money to live off of until we found jobs and a stable income and then we could find a place of our own and go from there. That didn’t happen; otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. So the original original plan was that I would run away to Holy Ann because that’s where the nearest bus stop is to get anywhere out of town, buy a bus ticket, go far away, and never set foot in Maplehood again. I could get a hotel room somewhere until I got a job and a steady income, and I could get my own place and live my life. And eventually, get my revenge on Horatio Galloway. Obviously, that didn’t happen either.”

“As for why I didn’t run away when I met you guys. I didn’t raise myself to be a coward, and it was beaten out of me not to be one either. Also, I’m a Rosewood kid, and we never run from a fight. It’s not in my nature. Naturally, I have the freeze response in fight or flight situations, so I couldn’t run even if I wanted to. I would try to talk my way out of the situation or go with the flow until I could get out of it, or as a last-ditch effort, I would attempt to fight my way out. Now I’m good at what I do, but I’m now crippled, and I can’t fight all three of you at once. I learned to pick and choose my battles, which wasn’t one of them. So my best course of action was just to stay where I was and go with the situation. Besides, like you said when I chose to go with you guys. If I did run the Slenderman and all of you would have hunted me down, and I would be killed for sure.”

“You mean you wouldn’t have attempted to fight us?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Hoodie, you’re much older and have more life experience than me. You’ve been in this line of work much longer than I have. I’m still fresh meat compared to you. Plus, I’m crippled and fucking tiny. Have you not seen yourself? Look at you; you’re like the fucking size of bigfoot!” explained Tabby fast as she gestured to her bandaged left hand and then gestured towards him up and down.

Hoodie laughed. He was so not expecting Tabby to say something like that. The fact that she was brave enough to say that to his face and see no problem with that. She really was full of surprises.

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious!” said Tabby, not laughing along with him not understanding what was so funny about what she said.

Hoodie calmed down, cleared his throat, and returned to being his stoic self.

“It’s just- It’s just that no one has ever compared me to bigfoot before.”

“Well, stick with me, and it won’t be the last,” she retorted back.

“Why do you call me Hoodie when you know my real name is Brian?” he asked a little more quietly.

“Because, unlike you, I have common decency. And you said that you didn’t want me to call you Brian, so I won’t call you that. If you say your name is Hoodie, then your name is Hoodie. As long as you call me Tabby, I’ll call you Hoodie. Besides, I know what it’s like to have your real name be associated with something you hate or from your past,” she answered.

“You mean Tabby isn’t your real name?”

Tabby shook her head.

“Nope! It’s a derivative of my real name. It’s Tabathia Roxanne Anderson. But I hate the name Tabithia. Number 1 it’s an unusual name so it makes me stick out like a sore thumb. Not only that, but my stepdad has perverse that name and twisted it into something that stood for every fuck up, mistake, evil thing before I even had a chance to make that name mean something for myself. Tabby, however, Tabby was a nickname I’ve always had. People say I remind them of a rough and tumble alley cat. I’ve made that name mean something to be all on my own. It’s who I am. Like everything else, I won’t have that be taken from, and I will continue to make that name for myself.”

“You also said that you were a leader at one point or another,” he pointed out.

“I still am. Even though I lost the right to call myself that a while back, and I haven’t earned that position back here yet, being a leader is not about the fancy titles or how much you get paid or how many people you have under you. It’s an entire way of being; it’s a whole mentality. You either have it, or you don’t, and you, sir, sure as hell don’t have it,” said Tabby.

“Excuse me?” he spluttered like he just got slapped in the face.

“There’s a reason why Masky is the leader, and you’re not. From what I’ve noticed about you, you like to use fear and force to stay in control. While that’s not a bad tactic, on some occasions, you want to go to that well one too many times. It starts to lose its effectiveness. It’s like when my stepdad used to beat me constantly depending on his mood, no matter what I did. But since he used it so often, it lost its effect. And there were times where I’ve done some fucked up shit to warrant an ass beating, but if he used that sparingly, I feel as though I would probably think twice about my actions instead of having a complete disregard for authority rules and consequences. I got beat anyway; I might as well do whatever I wanted and make the beating worth it. Fear ends up being a breeding ground for rebellion, from my experience. You don’t want to end up like Isabella Martindale,” she explained.

“That explains why you showed no fear and fought back when I threatened to beat you and kill you. It wouldn’t have done anything anyway,” he said in thought.

“Wait, who is this, Isabella Martindale?” asked Hoodie snapping back to the present.

“She was a girl I knew of back at Rosewood when I first started. I was in the 5th grade at the time, and I was quickly rising in the ranks of my group that I had so far. She was in the 8th grade at the time and already had an established group. She used fear to keep her group in check and was a bully about it. As much as I didn’t like her and disagreed with her methods, they proved very effective for a while, and she was a competent leader. Until her group had enough and decided to kick her out of the group, which went down a bloody battle, but there was more of them than there were of her. Groups at Rosewood work like bee colonies with a queen bee. They either accept you as a leader or group members like a colony accepting their queen, or they will kick you out and reject you, basically sentencing you to death like a colony killing their queen. At Rosewood, you can’t survive without a group for very long unless you’re wealthy or influential. She was neither, so you can guess the rest of what happened to her.”

“A cautionary tale.”

“Well, you’re smarter than you look,” jabbed Tabby playfully.

“Why did you choose this life?” he asked, still trying to piece together every bit of information to complete her whole story. It just kept coming one question right after another. He couldn’t help it.

Tabby didn’t mind, though, and they were all valid questions. And they were going to be living together for a while, so it’s only fair she should give him some answers. She firmly believed in never denying anyone knowledge if they ask for it.

“Ah, well before I ran, I promised my friends that I would avenge them and take out Horatio once and for all. And we Rosewood kids take giving our word very seriously. However, I can’t do that if I’m dead, so I chose the best course of action that would ensure my survival even though I don’t want to be fucking alive. After the years' worth of abuse, Rosewood, and losing everything I knew in one fell swoop, yeah, I want out a redo a restart. And I guess I finally got what I wanted all along, though not in the way that I expected it. Honestly, this is the first time I ever put myself first. It’s so surreal to me,” answered Tabby a little uncomfortably.

“And what do you expect to get out of all of this?”

“Well, hopefully, if I stay alive long enough, I can get the training and experience that I need to become a full-fledge proxy. This is only a side quest among many before my main quest of killing Horatio. The problem is that we’re both on equal terms of strength and intelligence. But every time I tried to kill him, and that’s been a lot in the past eight years, he’s always been ten steps ahead of me. If I became a proxy, I figured that would put me a step above him, and I could finally do it after all these years. But I can’t do that alone, that’s why I accepted. And as much as I am grateful and appreciate all that he’s done for me, it’s just that-” she trailed off.

“He has no idea what he’s doing?” he offered.

“He has no idea what he’s doing,” she confirmed,” If I am to do this, I need some sort of structure and someone who actually knows what they’re doing and has experience. Now I will not force anyone to do anything they don’t want to. Fine, I’ll do it myself. All I ask for is for you to stay out of my way. However, if you decide to help me and teach me all you know, I will try to be more obedient and listen. You will have my undivided attention and total effort when you are teaching.”

“What is this? The Professional?”

“I’m glad you caught on because that did give some of The Professional vibes. Either way, the choice is yours,” said tabby with a shrug and a smirk.

“Whatever you say, Mathilda,” said Hoodie.

“It's a simple yes or no.”

“Look, kid, I admire your ambition. I think you’re arrogant and foolish; just by lack of experience. I respect your guts to keep trying and never stop fighting until your last breath. You will stop at nothing to get what you want. You’re more challenging than you look, and you have great potential. Besides, it’s not often I find someone who can stand up to me and attempt to put me in my place. You have earned my help,” laughed Hoodie at her seriousness.

“Well, what are you good at?” she prodded.

“I’m good with guns, long-range fighting, and stalking.”

“Well, I don’t know how to use a gun. Well, except for that one time I was four, and I was at my grandparents' house for the summer, and my grandpa was showing me how to take care of a shotgun, and I accidentally shot it up at the ceiling, and then my grandmother came in, and she was beyond pissed. She yelled at my grandpa and me and took the gun away and then gave me an ass beating,” Tabby rambled on.

“Well, that will be the first thing I teach you then.”

“Okay.”

They let the conversation die out before settling back down in that awkward silence yet again.

“You know what you’re doing won’t bring them back, right?” he asked bluntly after a period of silence.

“I know what I’m doing won’t bring them back, and I’m not asking for that. I’m delusional, but I’m not that delusional. All I ask for is a chance for redemption not only as a leader but as their best friend and sister as well. I hope that they can finally cross over and have the peace that they all rightfully earned and deserve by doing this. And when my time comes, preferably sooner than later, they will forgive me, and I can rejoin them and be where I truly belong. I hope that maybe someday they will at least send me a sign to let me know that they are okay wherever they are. Or maybe come back as their ghost forms and let me know that I’m forgiven and that they don’t hate me for failing to save them, and they can answer my questions. I have so many for them. Why didn’t they tell me what they were about to do? What did Horatio have to do with it? How come I didn’t catch any of the signs sooner. Where did I go so wrong? None of it makes sense to me. All I know is that they are dead now, and Horatio had something to do with it,” she answered.

“What do you mean where you would belong?”

“I mean six feet under and on the other side with my friends,” Tabby said like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Hoodie kind of looked at her like she was stupid.

“Hoodie, I’m young, not stupid; you and both know that I don’t belong here. Well, I never belonged anywhere. The closest I came to belonging was at Rosewood with my friends, and that’s long gone. But I sure as hell don’t belong here. This is only temporary. Although I can say that being a proxy is a lot like being a Rosewood kid,” she said, a little irritated.

“How so?”

“Well, from what Toby explained to me was that a proxy is neither a monster nor human. Being a Rosewood kid means neither belonging in polite society, yet some of us aren’t strong enough for the proxy life. We are something other entirely”

He seemed to be considering that information.

“Would you bring them back if the opportunity presented itself?” Hoodie asked quietly.

He knew Masky would.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Tabby said firmly, “I am a firm believer that what’s dead should stay dead. It would be selfish of me to bring them back when I know that some of them didn’t even want to be alive to begin with. How fucking selfish would it be to take away someone's peace and willingness to move just because of my own selfish wants. They deserve to cross over.”

Hoodie seemed to be taken aback by her answer, like he was not expecting her to say that.

Tabby sighed and rubbed her temples.

“Look, I’m not sure what happened between you and masky, nor do I really care too. Based on the last two questions you’ve asked me, they sounded personal. Just by basic observation, your so-called friendship with him is strained as all hell.”

“How did you know?” he asked in shock.

“You guys have the same type of relationship that Autumn and I had,” she sounded hurt by mentioning this Autumn figure.

“Was she- Was she your best friend?” he asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

She nodded,” My best friend, second in command, partner in crime, my big sister pick one and go with it. Due to a lack of communications and a break in trust between the two of us briefly, a while back, we became strained as all hell too. However, she was my true best friend, and those don’t come very often. You do everything in your power to keep them close to you, even if you have to keep secrets from them. Yet despite being strained, we’ve been friends for a long time, our bond is strong even through death. When push comes to shove, our loyalty is to each other, and we fiercely protect and love each other. We still care too much about each other to break something that works. We would put ourselves in the line of fire to save each other. However, you and I are different: Autumn is dead, Masky isn’t. You still have a chance to patch things up with him if you’re willing to put your petty bullshit aside. I can tell he misses you and that he wants to patch things up with you. You only get one best friend in life. I’d do something to salvage your relationship soon before it becomes too late. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

Hoodie froze at Tabby, analyzing his relationship with Masky even though she was talking about herself and this Autumn. But they were so similar it was scary. He didn’t like how she vaguely called him out on his relationship with Masky, and she was right. It was strained as all hell. They had a partnership more than anything. Like two parents who really should get divorced, but they’ve been with each other for so long that they don’t know what to do without each other. And why break something that works. You could barely call it a friendship, and it sure as hell wasn’t an actual relationship. Yet he would put himself in the line of fire to protect Masky, and she was right; he would do anything for him despite everything. He was hurt and angry at Masky, but he didn’t know why. But he was too cowardly even to attempt to figure it out.

He was terrified at what the truth would reveal.

Tabby pushed herself off the railing and turned to walk away.

“But what do I know? I’m just a Rosewood brat.”

Tabby began to walk back into the house before looking over her shoulder at Hoodie.

“However, I will leave you with this. Like or not, that’s still your best friend in there. You two have been through hell and back more than once, am I correct? Learn to appreciate him while you still can because it could be taken from you in a fell swoop at any second like it was for me. Just don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

Hoodie didn’t say anything. He didn’t even turn to face her. But he heard loud and clear what she said. It left him with a shocked look, and he was taking in deep shallow breaths. He forgot that he was holding his breath and needed to breathe. It looks like he wasn’t the only one who can read people with scary accuracy. He never met anyone that could be equal to him. That scared him a little, even though he would never admit it.

Tabby waited for his response for a couple of minutes before realizing that she wouldn’t get an answer, so she shrugged it off.

“Well, anyway, I’m heading in for the night. goodnight Hoodie.”

She walked back into the house, closing the door behind her.

Hoodie was left alone to reflect his thoughts on the chilly November night. He hated how the brat got into his head. What made it worse was that she was right about many things, but he was too much of a coward to move on.

What was even scarier was how her words still kept echoing in his head.

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headaching · 3 years ago

Note

hey beck!! how abt dizzy on the comedown? i'm in love with the two excerpts you posted 🥺 the mailee one specially! now that i think abt it, i'm almost 100% sure i've never read any mailee fic, so thank you very much for your writing <3

thank you so so much! the mailee fic is painfully close to being finished 💘here's the excerpt from dizzy on the comedown

One night, a couple weeks before Sokka and Zuko moved into their apartment, Zuko fell asleep while they were still on video call. Sokka looked up from his game controller to his phone and found him slumped over in his bed lifelessly.

“Zuko?” he asked, then again at a louder volume once he paused the game and picked up his phone. Zuko didn’t stir.

Sokka smiled at his screen and watched for a moment, wondering if he should hang up. Decidedly, Sokka brought his phone with him as he got ready for bed, just in case Zuko woke up. Back in his room, Sokka rigged his phone charger so he could use it while resting the phone against the wall.

Before he turned off his lamp, Sokka whispered, “Good night, Zuko.” Not a single night of the summer had passed without Sokka saying it, and he wasn’t about to give that up.

When Sokka awoke, his eyes made contact with a black screen, to his admittedly unjustified disappointment. He checked the time and saw it was past ten, so Zuko had surely been up for hours.

The only notification on his home screen was a text from Zuko: “Sorry.” Sokka smiled at the formal capitalization and punctuation as he crafted his response.

“all good. it was kinda nice??” Sokka’s thumb hovered over the send button before finally pulling the trigger.

Zuko’s reply only took a minute or two. “Yeah. Talk to you tonight?” Sokka rolled his eyes, but he knew better than to expect any tone indication while texting Zuko.

“you know it!”

Over twelve hours later, when Zuko yawned loudly and laid his head on his pillow, Sokka asked, “Tired?” Zuko didn’t open his eyes or change his position, but nodded and made an adorably sleepy noise. Thankful Zuko couldn’t see his nervous expression, Sokka implored, “Should we call it a night?”

Zuko sat upright and squinted at his screen. “I don’t know…” he said in a prompting way, his downturned eyes an indication of embarrassment.

“Or,” Sokka filled in like it was his own suggestion, “we could do what we did last night?”

“Really?” Zuko asked flatly, but Sokka’s nod was encouraging.

“Yeah. Like I said, it was nice.”

“You said it was kinda nice,” Zuko corrected, crossing his arms stubbornly, “and you used two question marks.” Sokka laughed; this was all the tone indication he needed.

“Yeah, that means I one hundred percent thought it was nice. Keep up,” Sokka teased, and Zuko scowled at him.

He grumbled something like, “Makes no sense,” but it was too low for Sokka to be sure.

“What about you?” Sokka asked curiously, and Zuko looked up with furrowed brows.

“What about me?”

“Did you think it was nice?” Sokka poorly disguised a smirk. “Or just kinda nice with two question marks?” Zuko breathed that easy laugh Sokka grew prouder of each time he heard. When Zuko was done shaking his head at him, Sokka added much more seriously, “Or not nice at all?”

“No,” Zuko said quickly, then picked his phone up from whatever he had it propped up on to hold it closer to his face. He looked at Sokka with earnestly and added, “It was nice.”

Sokka asked, “Were you surprised when you woke up?” and attempted to sound like he hadn't been thinking about it all day.

“Kind of,” Zuko replied, then bit his lip. “I remember lying down last night and thinking I should let you go, but you were playing your game and…” Zuko bit back his words once more, and for the millionth time that summer, Sokka wished they were speaking in person.

“And?” Sokka repeated softly.

“I don’t know. I closed my eyes, and listened to you yelling at the game, and it was weirdly comforting?” A sticky warmth spiked through Sokka’s bloodstream. “That never really happens. I don’t just fall asleep like that.”

“Oh,” Sokka said, resisting the urge to ask why not.

Zuko seemed to choose his next words carefully, “When I woke up and saw you sleeping, I was definitely surprised, then.”

“Why?”

“I thought you would’ve hung up.”

“I thought about it,” Sokka admitted. “I wasn’t sure if you would’ve thought it was weird.”

When Zuko automatically confirmed, “Not weird,” Sokka’s blushing cheeks found no refuge from Zuko’s now fully awake stare.

“Not weird. Not kinda nice,” Sokka agreed and relished their shared smile. “It was comforting for me, too.”

“It was?”

“Yeah. I think I sleep better knowing someone’s there if I need them,” Sokka said slowly, then straight into Zuko’s pixelated eyes, “or if they need me.”

Moments of silence crept by, and Sokka could hear Zuko’s heavy breath. His lips parted and he whispered, “I…” He sighed in exasperation, then tried again, “I…” Sokka didn’t need him to say it.

“I know." Sokka assured. "Me, too.”

Zuko gave a reprieved nod and smile. Sokka once again couldn’t contain a grin of his own, and he didn’t want to. “Alright,” Zuko said, seeming unsure of what else to say.

“Why don’t we hang up and get ready for bed, then you can call me back,” Sokka suggested.

“Okay,” Zuko agreed, and the call was over.

Sokka stared at his home screen in shock, then his thumbs were typing a quick text, “you didn’t say goodbye? rude :(”

Zuko’s reply didn’t come until Sokka was brushing his teeth. “I’m calling you again in five minutes?”

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, Sokka typed, “still rude!”

Zuko’s reply was immediate, “Bye,” and almost caused Sokka to choke on his spit.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Sokka was sitting upright in his bed answering a video call from Zuko.

"Hey," Zuko murmured when Sokka answered. He was lying in his bed with the comforter pulled up to his neck; he seemed ready to fall asleep at any moment.

Satirically wounded, Sokka asked, "Oh, so you're capable of greetings, but not goodbyes?"

Zuko rolled his eyes throughout the entire time he spoke. "Sokka," he said, making a mockery of politeness, "I'm so very sorry I hung up on you without saying goodbye. There will be shame on my family for a thousand years."

Sokka howled a laugh and watched as Zuko shook his head at him, but he was laughing, too. "And not a minute less," Sokka warned, then climbed under his covers and adjusted them under his arms.

When Sokka was settled, Zuko was quick to mutter, “Goodnight,” and turn to face the wall, obstructing himself from Sokka’s view.

“Night,” Sokka replied, but watched Zuko curiously as his head peeked over his shoulder.

“Love you,” he murmured, and Sokka’s heart was working overtime.

Before Zuko could second guess himself, Sokka assured, “Love you, too,” and Zuko was facing the wall again.

Sokka watched Zuko's unmoving silhouette, stunned, the words reverberating around his skull like little lightning zaps. Sokka's mind ambled to their first and only other admittance of love, and how it was initiated by Sokka in the dark under the guise of drunkenness.

There, in Sokka's bed, he was the farthest from Zuko he had ever been physically, and Zuko decided to tell him he loved him. Sokka's rapidly coursing veins, his constricting lungs, his interminable imagination all wanted to know, Why?

The answer would not come that night, or perhaps ever, Sokka was afraid. But he reconciled with his curiosity, put it to bed, and greeted the wash of wholeness left in its place like it had always been there. Maybe it has, Sokka decided, and let it carry him into a dream.

send me the title of a wip for an excerpt!

#! tysm!!! i appreciate all of your comments and rbs and tags you are so nice #this was kinda hard to write because of the texting but i also love it for that reason #anyway hope you like it <333 #zukka #zukka fic #wip #becks #my work #asks #mutuals #modern au #college au

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one-leaf-grimoire · 3 years ago

Text

Five Birthdays

summary » five birthdays from the life of lisa petalon.

warnings » light angst in one part

note » LISA'S BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW! But I couldn't wait to post this one-shot lol. Illustrations included!

age 7 » sweet and bitter

“Happy birthday!!”

Lisa blinked slowly as her dad appeared from the kitchen, carrying something on a platter. He was covered with flour, egg stains on his shirt, but he was smiling wider than he had for a while. Her aunt and cousin giggled at the sight, clapping from where they sat next to Lisa at the table.

“What is that?”

“Look at it!” Her father grinned as he set it down in front of her. It was clear that it was some kind of food, maybe a fancy type of bread, but it was covered in some sort of shiny coating. “It’s a cake… a birthday cake! I realized that we never made one for you, so I decided to do it this time. Seven is a big age, after all!”

“A cake…” Lisa’s eyes lit up. “A cake! Wow!” In their little town in the woods, they foraged for most of their food, so Lisa was more used to the gamey taste of turkey, potatoes, and berry juice. Confections like cake were rare.

Her dad chuckled, crouching next to his daughter’s chair and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “It’s all yours, Lisa. Dig in!”

Lisa nodded, eagerly grabbing her fork and taking a big scoop of cake. It was soft, easy to cut; her father did a great job baking it. But before she tasted it, she paused.

“Wait… where is mom?”

The silence in the moments following the question should have told Lisa everything she needed to know. But she was just 7… she had not yet realized why her mother failed to acknowledge any of her birthdays.

“She… she’s tired.” Her father exchanged a glance with her aunt. Out of everyone here, he was the most weary, but he willed himself to smile again before turning back to look back into his daughter’s eyes; eyes that matched his own.

His daughter was almost his mirror image, with her black eyes, her jagged brown hair, and the power she inevitably would discover one day.

But he smiled anyway. Because she was his pride and joy. She was a miracle.

“But the rest of us are all here to celebrate. So let’s dig in!” He reached down and ruffled her hair.

Lisa grinned, giving him a nod before finally taking the first bite.

“Ah! It’s so sweet!”

age 19 » anything you want

Lisa jumped a little in surprise as someone tapped her on the shoulder. She was standing by one of the shelves of books in the royal library, a place that she had been frequenting more and more these past few weeks. She turned around towards the feeling, a little perplexed when she saw that she was still alone. Huh? That’s weird, I don’t think I imagined that-

“Over here!”

She turned the other way, her heart skipping a beat when she saw none other than Julius there, leaning against the edge of the shelf, a place that he was definitely not only a moment ago. But Lisa couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed, despite the fright. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi.” Julius smiled, his eyes avoiding hers for a moment before he straightened up to walk over to her side. “I see you’re hard at work again, any discoveries?”

“N...Not yet.” Lisa quickly looked back down at the book in her hand, trying not to seem too nervous. She would have thought that she would be more used to being in his presence, since they had been meeting up here often to sift through records for any information about Lisa’ magic mark. But that wasn’t the case…”There are so many books, we might never find it, even if it’s here.”

“Well, I just finished my work for the day. I can be your helper for the rest of the evening, if you’d like~”

Lisa almost hid her face in her book as her face heated up. Help!!! Why did he say it like that- “Um, actually-” Lisa closed the book with a soft snap. “I was about to head out.”

“Oh.” There was a hint of disappointment in the Wizard King’s voice. “You have plans?”

“Yeah, actually…” Lisa smiled a little. “It’s my birthday! Yami and William wanted to go celebrate tonight.”

“Your birthday?!” Julius’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh- I had no idea! You should have told me, I would have gotten you a present!”

“P-Present!? No way!” Lisa shook her head, her smile falling. “I-I couldn’t accept a present from you, I mean- It wouldn’t be right for me to expect something, you know-”

“Nonsense! I’m your research assistant, remember!”

Julius winked, and Lisa felt that she was about to pass away right then and there.

“... I guess so… but still!” Lisa scowled playfully. “You don’t need to get me anything… I…”

“I feel happy enough just to be close to you. That’s the only present I need.”

Of course, Lisa couldn’t say something so embarrassing.

“I don’t need presents, really. I’d rather just spend time with my friends and other… people I care about.”

Julius’s eyes softened a bit, a light blush appearing on his cheeks. “Oh… I see.” His smile quickly reappeared. “But still, I insist! How about this- You can take a book in this library home with you. Permanently.”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “Really? But, isn’t that stealing?”

“I’m the Wizard King, and I’m saying it’s ok. Plus, I’ll cover the overdue fees.” He grinned, closing his eyes for a moment. “How does that sound?”

“...alright. Thank you!” Lisa quickly put the book away, biting her lip to keep from smiling too widely. A birthday present from the Wizard King! More importantly… a present from Julius… “There’s so many books here, though… any recommendations…”

“Actually, there’s one I was hoping you would take.” Julius cleared his throat. “One moment. I’ll be right back.”

He quickly turned away and disappeared down a different aisle. A moment later, he reappeared, holding a book with an elaborate leather cover. “Um.. see for yourself.” He held it out for Lisa to take. It was heavy, but the texture of the cover felt nice under her fingers. Her eyes fell on the title, and she let out a soft gasp.

“Origins of Magic: The sources of mana in this world and the Mystery of its usage. By Julius Novachrono…”

“Heh, I wrote that when I was still captain.” Julius chuckled nervously, awaiting her reaction. “I might have to write a second edition, I’ve learned so much since I became Wizard King… maybe you can be my research assistant for that one.”

“This is amazing… I can’t wait to read it!” Lisa grinned, looking back up at his face. “Thank you, Julius.”

It still felt strange to say his name. This man was revered by almost everyone, yet here Lisa was, receiving a present from him. And a very personal present, at that.

“You’re welcome… let me know what you think.” Julius smiled, gazing down at her face.

There’s so much more I want to say to you… Lisa…

When Lisa got home soon after, she had a few minutes before William and Yami wanted to meet up. She collapsed on her bed, face down. After a moment of silence, she let out a long squeal, muffled by her pillow.

Oh god… I need to stop hanging out with him… or I’m going to fall in love for real.

But… maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…

age 23 » forgotten nights

“Ouch… ouch ouch…”

Lisa rolled over, consciousness finally filtering back into her weary brain. It was strange at first, unfamiliar to Lisa.

Was I… sleeping? How is that possible?

She let out a soft groan.

I haven't slept in 3 years-

Suddenly, pain throbbed in the back on her head, and Lisa let out a cry.

Oh… not sleeping, then... Was I bludgeoned?

"Oh! There, there, don't sit up!"

Hands gently grabbed her shoulders to push her back into the sheets when she tried to raise her head. Lisa winced at the feeling, blinking her eyes open. Her eyesight was foggy, and it took a few moments for the other person's face to come into focus. "Oh… Julius? What on Earth is happening-" She cringed and squeezed her eyes shut again at another pang of agony. "Did I get in a fight?"

Julius sighed, glad that she was awake and recovering. "Sort of… here-" He picked up the glass of water he had been keeping on the bedside table. He carefully held it up to her mouth, and she immediately started sipping away at it. "How do you feel?"

"I'm in pain… tell me, what happened?" Lisa scowled up at him, sensing how hesitant he was to speak further. "What do you mean, I sort of got in a fight?"

"Well… I'm surprised you didn't figure it out already," Julius chuckled nervously. "You… you weren't knocked out. You're hungover…"

All the sudden, everything flooded back.

------

"BEHOLD; THE MIGHTY POWER OF THE WIZARD KING!!!!"

Lisa cackled wickedly, one foot planted on the edge of the bar and the other precariously balanced on her stool. In one hand, she gripped a glass of mead. The other formed a fist, blue fire circling in tandem with time magic. "Anyone who can beat me can take my title! I'll share this power with you!"

There was a roar of approval from the other patrons at the bar. Yami howled with laughter and hit the bar surface with the palm of his hand a few times.

SMACK SMACK SMACK

"That's hilarious!!! What are you gonna do if you lose!!?"

"I won't." Lisa smirked raising her glass back to her lips and chugging it in one go.

"Lisa!! Get down from there-" Fuegoleon tapped her shoe, frowning. He was only a little red in the face, not nearly as drunk as the others. Jack was giggling next to Yami, and Charlotte and William were already asleep at a table in the corner. "You're going to get hurt, and-"

"HEY!" Lisa's foot lashed out, and she wobbled dangerously. "I knew you wanted my job! Come at me, then!"

"What? No!" Fuegoleon stumbled back. "You're acting like my sister!"

"Yeah? Then fight me!"

Lisa stepped forward, ready to attack- however, she was still up on the bar. Her foot didn't land anywhere… and she fell

"LISA!"

Fuegoleon jumped forward, arms outstretched, ready to catch her. However, to his surprise, the elderly bartender rushed in front of him. Lisa fell into his arm, limp as a ragdoll.

"Dear me- I'm glad I was keeping an eye on this one." He chuckled before turning back to Fuegoleon. "Thank you for trying to keep her out of trouble- but I'll get her somewhere safe."

"Oh- okay." Fuegoleon watched the man carry her away, then reappear a few moments later.

-------

"Oh god…"

Lisa buried her head in her hands, her face bright red. "No way… no way I did all that!"

Julius chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. "No harm was done! And you had fun, didn't you?"

Lisa shrugged. "I don't really remember…" her hands fell back into her lap. "It sucks… I used to be able to drink all night and feel fine… but after we formed our Dyad…"

Of course, her alcohol tolerance wasn't the only thing about her body that had changed. She couldn't eat, or sleep, or… worst of all-

"I know. It'll be alright. It just takes some getting used to, right?"

Lisa nodded, and felt his lips press against the side of her head. Her eyes fluttered closed for just a moment.

"Why was I at the bar with all of them, anyway?"

Julius's eyes popped back open in surprise. "Huh? You don't remember?" His lips twitched into a smile. "I suggested the outing in the first place… thought you'd want to have a celebration with your friends."

Lisa blinked. "Celebration?"

She was still confused, until Julius chuckled and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Happy birthday, Lisa."

age 27.1 » the life of an insect

It stayed hot all the way until September. The sun blazed down into the garden, unhindered by clouds. The bright atmosphere contrasted with the dark shadows that were quickly closing around the Clover Kingdom.

It’s so loud…

Lisa spent most of her time alone, now. Part of her wanted to surround herself with people, with all those she loved. But even then, she knew it would just make herself feel worse. Seeing their faces, watching them talk, and laugh… it just forced her to draw further and further away.

I’m not like you… I never was.

So, she spent her days alone. It would be easier for them if she stayed away. Even if it hurt.

Yet it was still so loud.

Cicadas screamed from every corner of the forest, swarming the treetops by the million. Their song permeated almost every corner of the kingdom, allowing none to escape.

In a way… it was almost nostalgic.

Lisa stood at the base of a tree, pausing her walk for just a moment. Above her was a group of cicadas, circling each other on the bottom of a high branch, no doubt evaluating each other to decide if they wanted to mate or not. Their song was earsplitting, but Lisa was already numb. It didn’t bother her.

In her hometown, out in the woods, the cicadas were a fact of life, appearing every summer without fail. They were like a booming voice, nature’s fury swept across the land.

Yet… they were fragile.

They slept underground for 17 years. Then, for just one day, they rose up to the heavens, singing their glorious song. They soared, they mated, they laid their eggs…

And then they died.

They fell back to earth, their voices and bodies spent. Their last act would be to plant the seeds of their offspring, before the dirt reclaimed them.

Their lives… were fragile.

Utterly and completely meaningless.

Two of the cicadas lost their grip on the tree. They fell down into the leaf litter, letting out one last scream before they went silent forever.

But at one point, they had screamed. And the whole world heard them.

I can’t even do that. How I wish I could just scream… but I can’t.

A moth could not scream. It would never see the sun. They just fluttered through the night, like a ghost. They were swallowed silently by that darkness.

This is my last birthday.

Lisa lowered her gaze, before restarting her lonely stroll.

At the very least… I got to see the sunset first.

age 27.2 » the future ahead of us

Summer melted into fall at last. The heat evaporated, leaving cool winds to quench the thirsty land.

The winds were gentle; like a nourishing pair of hands. Lisa closed her eyes, sinking into the feeling of those hands touching her. They brought her comfort, and they eased her pain.

They belonged to her.

“Just a few more months…”

Julius whispered the words, so soft that Lisa could barely hear them. But that was okay; they weren’t meant for her.

“I can’t wait to meet you.”

Lisa’s hand moved to run through his hair. Julius let out a happy sigh, his eyes flickering closed. He could hear two heartbeats with the ear pressed against his wife’s stomach, harmonizing with the sweet sound of her breathing. Life thrived there, and life was thriving within him as well. Never before had he felt so much excitement, so much anxiety. It was a rare, beautiful thing; an opportunity that had almost slipped away; like a stunning sunset that you didn’t notice until it was too late.

But it’s not too late.

He pulled back a little, just enough to stare up into Lisa’s eyes.

Because of you… your strength… your sacrifice. Because of you, we have this life. We have a second chance.

I won’t ever let that chance slip away.

“Her birthday is going to be after both of ours… a December baby.” Julius said happily. “A “Joy” to the world, you could say.”

Lisa let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head a little at the pun. “A joy to all of us, for sure.”

She watched as Julius nodded, his expression drowsy, before he lowered his head to listen once again. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds; the sounds of his daughter, and the sounds of his wife.

“She’s a joy… and a gift.”

The world was changing. The future ahead was uncertain. But Fate was alive and well; Julius and Lisa would always be bound to it.

Whatever fate had in store for them, they would be together. And they would have this child, who they had wanted more than anything else on this Earth.

“I love you, Lisa.”

“I love you, Julius.”

It was the happiest birthday Lisa ever had.

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