#however colouring this was a headache and a half

[cosmicdreamgrl]

yeah i'm a bit dangerous, even i can't handle myself don't worry, my hands are warm only for you if perhaps i'm ruining you, would you forgive me because you can't live without me & i know it all [ cr: namuspromised ]

[leahwllmsn]

here, always

alexia putellas x reader

a/n: a bit late but happy halloween :0

Your routine was the same. You would wake up, get ready, and get to work. This time, you woke up with a headache and the claims from your friends that you had been missing for a month.

You woke up with a headache. That was the first thing you noticed. That, and the blaring ray of sunlight from the window. You must've forgotten to close the blinds last night.

When you sat up, the headache became even worse and you squeezed your eyes shut in pain. You placed your feet on the floor and slowly got up. You tried your best to ignore the pounding in your head as you made your way into the kitchen. 

Passing by the clock in the living room, you saw that it was half past eight, which is great, because your work starts at eight. On the dot. 

You stepped in the kitchen and began to open each drawer, hoping you'd spot the painkillers–you forgot which drawer they were in. You let out a sigh when you finally spot them, taking one and drinking it without the help of water. You knew the relief wouldn’t be instant, but still, you were annoyed when the headache didn't seem to lessen.

You took a deep breath and got ready for work. It was going to be a long day ahead.

—

You got off the train at your stop, walking the route that you knew by heart.

Up the stairs. Turn left. Right. Pass a coffee shop.

Left. Go straight. Pass by a florist—

A florist.

The smell of the fresh flowers made your heart skip a beat, because it reminded you of Alexia. The colourful array of flowers made you think of her and her gorgeous smile. You decided to get her flowers. You knew how happy it made her every time.

You bought a bouquet of roses. Simple, but it was perfect for Alexia. She had always talked about how if she were to be a flower, she'd be roses, and you wholeheartedly agree. Alexia had grace and joy like pink roses. Her passion in everything she did: orange roses. And despite being so passionate, she had an innocence to her that made her seem oh so sweet–white roses. Lastly, red roses, to represent your love for her.

You smiled to yourself, one hand holding Alexia's flowers, and the other in your pocket. You had a feeling it was going to be a good day.

—

You opened the door to an empty office. There were four desks and two doors, one that led to the head physio’s office and the other that went to the pantry.

As you put your bag on your desk, you heard laughter from behind the door. Your colleagues must be having breakfast.

You walked to the pantry and you were met with some of your friends. However, their reaction wasn't the usual. They stopped whatever they were doing, hands midair, mouth agape. They looked ...confused? Shocked, even. It was like they were seeing a ghost. Even Alexia wasn’t giving you her usual ear-splitting grin at the sight of you. You weren't sure why.

"Hi, Ale, these are for you." You gave her the bouquet of roses you bought earlier.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she got up, slowly outstretching her hands and taking the flowers. "Y/N..." she whispered. "These are lovely. Thank you."

You smiled, satisfied. Anything for Alexia. You could sense that she was about to say something else, so you stayed silent, waiting for her to go on.

"Mi amor…" she started. It seemed like she had trouble expressing what she wanted to say.

Ingrid seemed to sense the same thing, as she went up and stood next to Alexia. She then said something unfathomable, you thought you heard wrong. "You've been gone for a month."

"What?"

"We didn't know where you were." Alexia spoke up, softly as if she was scared that if she spoke too loud, it might make you disappear again. Which was insane, because you hadn’t gone anywhere.

You had been right here all along. Right?

"No... that doesn't make sense. I was with you just last night, Ale."

Alexia opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. She was at a loss for words. So were you.

Ingrid cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brows. "What date was it yesterday? Do you remember?"

"October 31."

"Well," Mapi joined in on the conversation, scratching her head. "You're right, but you weren't here, Y/N."

You gaped at her, "What do you mean I wasn't here? I was. Right, Alexia? Tell her."

But Alexia just stood there, not saying anything.

"Baby, please." you pleaded.

You looked at them and they were looking wistfully at you, as if you really had gone missing and this was the first time they were seeing you in a month. But that didn’t make sense.

"Amor," Alexia walked closer to you, touching your forearms. Her touch was so light and soft, always the same as you remembered. "I wasn't with you last night."

"When was the last time you saw me?" You directed your question at your friends.

"One month ago," Ingrid answered.

"That's not possible." It really wasn't. "I... I have no memory of going anywhere for a month."

"We were really worried," Alexia sighed, walking closer to you. You knew for a fact that you hadn't disappeared, but why do you have this feeling of… of longing and yearning for her deep in your heart?

"We searched everywhere," Mapi continued. "We couldn't find you."

"I've been right here all along! I don't know what else to tell you guys." You couldn't believe them. It was hard to accept the fact that you disappeared, because you didn't.

"What was the last thing you remembered?" 

You looked at her, your sweet Alexia. Alexia whose existence brought so much warmth to your life. You wouldn't know what to do if the roles were reversed and she was the one who ‘disappeared’. You didn't think you could take it.

"I had dinner with you, at that Italian place you liked," you answered, taking her hand in yours and holding it tightly. "You dropped me off at home because you were going to stay with Alba for the night... I received a text goodnight from you, then I replied and went to bed."

Alexia gave a grim smile, "That was a month ago, amor. And you didn't text me back."

"No... no that was last night." You were getting incredibly frustrated.

Mapi seemed to notice your frustration as she cleared her throat, "I think we should leave Y/N so she can process all this."

What? I didn't think I wanted to be alone at a time like this.

They all nodded and were about to leave the room when I grabbed Alexia's arm, "Can you stay with me?"

Alexia smiled, "Of course."

Ingrid and Mapi gave you a reassuring smile and went to leave the room. Then, it was just you and Alexia. She grabbed your hand and you sat down, your hands interlocking perfectly on the table.

"My love," she started. "I know this is hard, but you have to learn to accept things."

You raised your eyebrow at her, "What do you mean? I don’t get it, Ale. My head’s been killing me all morning."

She shrugged. "Just... trust us."

"I don't understand. Is this about my disappearance?"

She smiled… almost sadly? "In a way."

"So I really did disappear?"

She nodded. "You did."

"Where did I go?"

She looked at me and chuckled, "I think you should be asking yourself this question, not me."

You were still confused about this whole thing. It was like your world had turned upside down. "But... how? Why?"

She shrugged again, "I wish I knew. We spent a long time searching for you. You were gone."

Were you experiencing a severe memory loss? Was that it? Was that the reason you couldn't remember anything?

You doubted it, though. You remember what date it was yesterday, and you weren’t in the hospital. Everything was normal.

Everything seemed normal... Until this talk with Alexia. Something was up. Her words were vague... as if it had a hidden meaning. You didn't like it.

As you were about to tell Alexia that none of this felt real, you saw something outside the window. It was... a bird? A black bird. You didn't think it meant anything, even though it felt odd to you.

You let out a big sigh. This wasn't how you imagined your day to go at all. You didn't have the energy to do anything else, but you needed to look for clues as to why this whole thing was happening.

So you got up and left for your desk. Everything seemed normal.

Just like how it was yesterday. Not one month ago.

You sighed, it still didn't make sense. You looked around the room, your co-workers were on their respective desks, typing away on their computers.

Weird.

They hadn’t mentioned anything to you. It was as if your disappearance wasn't a big deal. Shouldn't it be a big deal if your colleague went missing? 

"Hey," you whispered to the girl sitting next to you. Surprisingly, it was Ingrid. Why was she even on the computer? "What are you doing?"

Ingrid turned her head towards you, "I'm doing the weekly report."

You scratched your head. “Why aren’t you on the field? You’re not a physio, you shouldn’t be here.” 

Ingrid simply shrugged and the confusion must be written across your face because she scooted her chair to be closer to you. "Is everything ok?" 

"I don't know, I feel weird,” you decided to be honest. "Like something is off."

And even though Ingrid was smiling, her face looked sad. Why was the atmosphere so sorrowful somehow?

"Well... Maybe you should figure it out."

"Figure what?"

"Figure it out," Ingrid replied like it was obvious. "I know you remember."

"I don't."

"You do. Think, Y/N."

You were about to question her further when your hand brushed the mouse of your computer, causing your computer to light up. The background was a picture of you and Alexia. You realised it was taken at that Italian restaurant that night. Yesterday. Or, one month ago?

As you squinted at the picture, you saw that you had a ring on your left hand—

Wait.

A ring. Alexia gave you that ring.

You looked at your hand now and the ring wasn't there.

A ring... You had that because…

Oh my God.

You stood up suddenly, because you realised that Alexia proposed to you that night. And you said yes. You did. Then you took this picture.

But where was your ring now?

"I'm gonna head home for a bit."

Everyone lifted their heads up and looked at you questioningly. Alexia spoke up, you didn’t even realise she was still in the room. "Are you okay, amor?"

You smiled, walked over to her side and kissed her cheek. "Yeah, I just need to look for something."

"Okay, we'll see you later then."

"See you."

And with that you left.

–

Once you opened the door to your apartment, you stood for a good minute, trying to take it all in. You looked around, attempting to see if something was different. You didn't notice it at first, but the couch in your living room was blue. Blue. You would never choose that colour for a couch. That was weird.

You sat down and faced the TV. The couch was the same as it had always been, just a different colour. You didn't know what was going on but you swore the couch wasn’t blue yesterday.

You turned to the left, where a small table resided beside the couch. It had a framed picture of Alexia that you took one summer. That was the same.

You got up, going forward to the TV and looked around the shelves. Everything was the same. It was all the same—

Until you saw it. 

You caught a glimpse of something colourful on the kitchen island. It was a vase full of flowers. They were definitely not there this morning. Did someone break into your home? That seemed to be a plausible explanation. But with the way your day was going, anything seemed possible.

You looked at the flowers and there was a note attached to it.

Y/N,

We're always here for you. Please don't forget.

- Ingrid & Mapi

That was... odd.

There was no way they sent that this morning? They did have the keys to your apartment... but they were at the training grounds this morning with you. There was no way they gave the keys to the delivery guy.

You thought about calling Ingrid or Mapi to ask about the flowers, but you decided against it. You should focus on your task in finding your engagement ring.

You left the kitchen and went to your bedroom.

Everything was still the same there. Your bed was in the middle of the room, with a nightstand next to it that had a lamp and framed picture of you and Alexia. 

You opened the drawer of your nightstand but there was nothing except for a pink post-it. 

hi :-)

I love you

meet me at our usual Italian place at 6?

It was scribbled in Alexia’s neat handwriting. Your heart swelled remembering she left you this note along with fresh lilies–your favourite flowers. 

Yesterday.

Or was it a month ago? You didn’t know if you should trust your memory or your friends’.

You decided to go look in the walk-in closet. You walked inside and looked around, deciding to go to the left side, searching through your jewellery drawer. If anything, a ring should be there right?

But all you found were a bunch of rings you collected over time, not the ring Alexia proposed to you with.

You turned to the opposite side and you saw the section that was usually filled with Alexia’s hoodies was empty. This wasn’t possible, because it wasn’t like this yesterday.

Before Alexia moved in, she would usually spend a night or two and she would leave behind a hoodie. She did that often enough that you could fill up a space in the closet just for her hoodies. When she moved in, she didn’t have any hoodies left from her place because it was already all at your apartment.

But none of them were here anymore.

Suddenly, a shiver went up your spine and an odd feeling settled at the pit of your stomach. It was as if… you could remember why that rack was empty now… but it was like your brain didn’t want you to remember and you ended up with a blank memory.

You tried to shrug it off, but it was futile. The feeling stayed there, making you uncomfortable even in your own home. You decided to call Alexia. Talking to her always made you feel better.

As always, she picked up on the first ring. “Hola, amor.”

“Hi, Ale.”

“Are you okay?”

“Well, considering all the things that have happened so far and it’s not even noon, not really.”

“I’m sorry, I know this must be confusing for you.”

“But I feel better now that I get to hear your voice.”

“Always the charming one, aren’t you?”

“It’s a fact. Even with all this nonsense that’s happening, I still have you, so I’m all good.”

“About that…”

“What?”

“I love you, amor. I always will. I want you to know that.”

“I do. Of course I do know that, Ale.”

“Even if I’m not here, I still want you to be okay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hypothetically speaking.”

“Was it really?”

“Why did you call me again?”

“Are you changing the subject?”

“No...”

“Don’t change the subject. What did you mean by that?”

“Y/N…”

“Everyone has been speaking as if their words contain a double meaning and it’s frustrating. Just tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“About this whole thing! I don’t know what else to do, Alexia. I tried looking for my engagement ring but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Just tell me what you know about why this is happening to me… Why is there a one month gap in my memory?”

“I’m not here.”

“What?”

“I’m not here, Y/N.”

“Alexia, what the hell are you talking about?”

“That night, the 31st of October. It really was one month ago. It wasn’t yesterday.”

“Are you saying I have amnesia?”

“No. I’m saying that you have to remember.”

“I can’t! God, if I could, I wouldn’t be stressed out like this!”

“I’ll help you. What time did we meet?”

“Six.”

“See, you remember.”

“Ale, I don’t see your point here. Of course I remember that night. It was yesterday.”

“Bear with me. What did we eat that night?”

“Italian.”

“Yup. We shared a pan of pizza—the one with pepperoni, my favourite.”

“I know.”

“What did I do that night?”

“Seriously? I don’t know why you’re asking all this.”

“I told you, to help you remember. This is the last one, I promise. What did I do that night?”

“You proposed.”

“I did. …It was the happiest moment of my life, you know? You, saying yes. I was nervous the whole night and I had this whole speech planned. Then you came and you looked so, so beautiful. Mi vida. You’d think that with all the years we spent together, I’d get used to how stunning you are.”

“Alexia…”

“I think I’ve always known that you would say yes if I proposed. You were never really subtle with your hints. But still, I was nervous. God, I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. When it was time to do it, the speech that I had been rehearsing in my head? It just flew out of the window. I was a stuttering mess and my words were all over the place. Yet, you still said yes.”

“Of course I did. I love you, Ale.”

“And I love you too. Always. You chose to be with me for the rest of my life, but things never turn out the way we want them to be, huh?”

“Alexia… You’re scaring me.”

“You’re going to remember now, and when you do, make the choice that you think is right, okay? I can’t make that choice for you, you have to decide on your own. Whatever it is that you’re going to choose, just know that I’ll always be there for you.”

—

31 October 2023

19:58

“Y/N L/N,” Alexia held your hand on the table, staring into your eyes. “I want to spend forever with you.”

Wait. Was she…?

“I can’t remember my speech,” she gave a nervous laugh. “It was a good one, I swear. But I guess I have to improvise now.”

You looked at her expectantly, your heart racing at the possibility of what she was about to do.

“You’re my soulmate, Y/N. I don’t… I don’t want anyone else but you. You’re it for me. You make me laugh, you make me cry sometimes,” she gave a lighthearted laugh and you rolled your eyes at her, a tear escaping to your cheek. “You make me so happy. I’m so crazy for you.”

She squeezed your hand and reached into the pocket of her blazer. She pulled out a black box and you gasped.

Oh my god.

She opened up the box and it revealed a ring inside. The ring was simple, just how you liked it. It was a silver band and a round diamond was placed on the centre.

You looked at her, back at the ring, and back at her—not quite believing it yet.

“Y/N,” Alexia continued. “I-I promise to love you with everything in me until my dying breath. I will love you the way you deserve to be loved—fearlessly, passionately and gently all at once.”

“Alexia…” you looked at her, tears freely falling down your face now. “If this is you improvising, I don’t know if I can handle your actual speech.”

She laughed and gave you a bashful smile. “Will you marry me? I’m proposing, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

You smiled at her, a huge ear-splitting grin.  “Of course I will, Alexia. You’re the love of my life.”

Alexia looked at you with wide eyes, as if she was still trying to process your words.

“Aren’t you supposed to put the finger on my ring now?”

Alexia wiped a tear that escaped her eye and laughed. “Yeah. Yeah. I just—you really… You said ‘yes’ right?”

You leaned forward and captured her lips in yours. “I did, you dummy. It will always be ‘yes’.”

—

ale: I love you

y/n: I love you too, so much

y/n: drive safe, okay? text me when you get there

ale: will do

—

“It never came.”

“You remember now?”

“Your text… it never came. I spent hours waiting for your text, and I was dumb enough to just sit there and do nothing, when I knew it would only take you ten minutes to get to Alba’s.”

“It’s not your fault. It never was.”

“But… but you’re here. On the phone with me. I can hear your voice, Alexia.”

“I’m here, but I’m not really here.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You can either stay here with me or leave. That’s the choice you have to make.”

“I don’t understand… What do you mean?”

“Just two simple choices, baby. Stay here with me or leave.”

“If I leave here, where would I go?”

“You know the answer to that. You’re smart.”

…

“So what’s your choice?”

“…I’m staying.”

“You’re staying?”

“I am. I’ll go wherever you are, Alexia, you know that.”

“I know… but I thought that…”

“I know you said that you’ll always be there for me for whichever choice I make, but why do I have a feeling that won’t be the case if I choose to leave?”

“Well, I could mean it in a metaphorical sense.”

“I don’t want metaphors, I want you. Always. I thought you knew that when you proposed to me.”

“Mi amor… I love you.”

“And I love you. Why does it seem like you don’t want me to stay?”

“Because… I know that it’s not the best choice for you.”

“I know what’s best for me. And that’s to stay. It’s final, I’m staying.”

“Okay. Meet me at our usual spot in the park in 20 minutes?”

“I’ll be there.”

—

1 November 2024

21:47

“Babe? Visiting hour is almost over.”

Ingrid turns to the source of the voice and sees her fiancé standing at the doorway. She nods and gives a melancholic smile. “We do this all the time, but it never gets easier. Why is that? Leaving her here, I mean.”

Mapi gulps and takes a step forward to Ingrid and to… you.

“I don’t want to leave her here, María.” Ingrid sighs.

Once Mapi is at the foot of the bed, she braces herself and looks up—towards the girl occupying the bed.

Mapi has always stared at anything but you. It’s been a year since that night, since everything fell apart, and Mapi misses you a lot.

You’re staring back at her, but she knows that you’re not seeing her. 

That’s mostly why she hates looking at you. You, sick, pale-faced, and all alone in this hospital bed. Just a reminder that you’re not here with her anymore.

Because although you’re still here physically, every time Mapi stares into your eyes, it just shows that your mind is not—your blank stare confirming that you’re no longer emotionally present. 

Mapi tears her eyes away from you and blinks back her tears. Ingrid’s right, it never gets easier.

Mapi clears her throat. “We should go.”

Ingrid looks at Mapi sympathetically. She knows how tough it is to lose not one, but two of their closest friends all in a snap. 

Ingrid turns to you and stands up. She leans forward and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re going to go now, okay love?”

As always, there’s no answer.

“We’ll be back next month, don’t worry.”

Ingrid gulps and tries her hardest to not let out a cry right then and there, but the shakiness in her voice betrayed her. “We hope you’re better the next time we see you… Mapi and I are getting married soon, I just want you there next to us.”

“Ingrid…” Mapi walks over and stands next to Ingrid, squeezing her hand.

Ingrid wipes a tear that manages to escape. “I’m fine. And Y/N will be fine too.”

“She will.” Mapi whispers, looking at you, her voice wavering slightly. Mapi doesn’t know whether to believe her own words or not.

Mapi takes your hand with her free one and squeezes it, silently hoping that you can feel her touch, wherever you are, and that you can hear Mapi's silent plea for you to come back to reality.

Ingrid leans down and kisses your forehead. “Sleep tight, Y/N. We miss you so much.”

Ingrid steps back to give Mapi a chance to say her goodbyes. 

Mapi holds the railing on the side of the bed and squats down so she is speaking directly to your ears. “Y/N… I know how much you love her, and I can’t imagine how painful it is that she’s not here anymore, but you have to come back to us. You have to…” Mapi trails off, her chest heaving with unshed sobs.

Ingrid places her hands on Mapi’s shoulder, slowly bringing her up. “Hey, come here,” Ingrid whispers, wrapping her fiancé in her embrace. “We’ll try again next month.”

Mapi sighs against Ingrid’s shoulder. “I know it must be tough, losing the love of your life—I don’t even want to imagine losing you,” Mapi leans back and takes another deep breath. “But it’s been too long. Where is she? I just want our friend back.”

Ingrid smiles regretfully. “We can’t force her to snap out of it if she doesn’t want to, my love.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We’ll be patient and wait for her here.”

“What if she won’t…” Mapi whispers, as if she’s afraid to speak those words. “What if she won't come back?”

“Then we let her go,” Ingrid places both her hands on Mapi’s cheeks, caressing them softly. “If that’s her choice, then we have to respect it.”

Mapi nods slowly. “I know. I just don’t know why that’s the choice she’s making.”

Ingrid shrugs. “Maybe she sees Alexia, wherever she is.”

“You think so?”

“Who knows?” Ingrid questions back.

Mapi lifts her hands up and places them over Ingrid’s. “I hope she’s happy then.”

“If Alexia is there, she’ll be happy.” Ingrid smiles wistfully. She turns her hands around, intertwining them with Mapi’s. “C’mon, let’s go. Don’t want to miss our flight.”

Mapi lets Ingrid drag her out of the room. She pauses just at the doorway and turns around to look at you one more time. You have your eyes closed now and Mapi can swear that she sees a faint smile gracing your lips. 

Mapi can’t help but smile back. Maybe you’re with Alexia after all.

—

You arrived at the park exactly 20 minutes after your phone call with Alexia. She was there, at your bench, looking out at the lake.

You walked towards her and sat down, your shoulders brushing.

“You stayed.” Alexia stated.

You looked at her. Your beautiful Alexia. Her eyebrows were furrowed slightly, her lips pursed. “I did.”

She sighed and turned to look at you, staring at you with those eyes. “You have to be the one who decides, not me.”

You looked at her questioningly.

She turned back towards the lake. “There’s nothing I can do.”

You were confused. “Are you not happy with my decision?”

“I’m always happy to be with you, amor. You’re the love of my life.”

“Then?”

“You can’t blame me for being sad too, because of what the implications of you being here means.”

What was she even talking about?

Before you got the chance to ask, Alexia continued, “Let’s enjoy this moment,” she grabbed your hand in hers, stroking it softly. “It may be selfish of me, but I’m glad I get to spend another day with you.”

“What?” you still couldn't understand her. Alexia was being so vague. “I’m here, of course you get to spend the day with me. We have tomorrow, too. And the day after that. And so on. Until forever.”

“Sure, baby.” She smiled, although still not looking at me. “Until forever.”

You smiled back at her and placed a soft peck on her cheek, laying your head on her shoulder as you stared into the lake with her. It was a nice day, the sun was shining, although not too brightly—just perfect. The wind was a light breeze and you scooted closer to Alexia every time it blew.

“I love you, Ale.” you whispered. You really did and you wanted her to know it. If you could let her know every second of every day, you would.

The reply didn’t come in an instant, but it eventually did. “I love you, too.” You could feel her placing a kiss on the top of your head. “And it’s only because I love you that I hope you choose differently next time.”

—

a/n: let me know your thoughts!👻

[toms-cherry-trees]

Congrats on 1.5k, Mars!! 🥳

Here's my gif submission for you - maybe something fluffy here with our love, Tommy? 💙

Thank you so much!

I am SO sorry this took so long! Life moves too fast and I do too slow :( I hope this fluff meets the expectations because I went out of my comfort zone to write pure fluff with no dash of angst for angsty Tommy

Mars 1.5K Celebration

The One || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: None really, just Tommy being possessive but in a funny/romantic way and a bit cheeky

Everything is a haze. The autumnal wind pricking your cheeks like fine pins, the rustle of the dried autumn leaves swirling around your feet. Church bells echo far away in the distance, or so it seems, for you cannot hear anything above the thumping in your ears. An unpleasant heat crawls up your spine and settles inside your head, your face blazing as the wooden doors swing open and the gazes of a hundred people or more turn in your direction. All eyes, all attention on you, the quiet noises of the hall come to an abrupt halt upon your arrival. The smiles are on every face; they had all been waiting for you.

After all, you are the bride.

The church is packed; you can only guess who half the guests are. Your entire extended family only makes up a quarter of those seated inside, and the groom’s family is no more than a handful of people sitting in the first rows. Even adding friends and acquaintances, you still can only wonder why there are so many people inside. But everyone smiles at you like they have known you your entire life. You try to smile back, despite your face being barely visible under the exquisite embroiders of the long veil. 

Suddenly, you swing from not being able to feel anything to feeling it all in an overpowering wave. The diadem you wear is too heavy, burdening down the crown of your head and promising a most marvellous headache for later in the evening. Your feet keep catching on the hem of the gown; your grip around your father’s arm tightens, terrified of the meagre possibility of tripping and faceplating in the aisle. You are positive one of your earrings is ready to fall, despite feeling the tight bite of the clasp secured on your earlobe. 

However, it all fades into nothingness the moment you focus your gaze upon the altar. Tommy stands there, dashing in his suit with a corsage of lilies of the valley pinned upon his breast, matching the dainty white flowers from your bouquet, mixed with softly coloured carnations. Arthur stands at his side as best man, a cheeky smirk upon his lips as he leans closer to Tommy to whisper something in his ear, both sets of blue eyes locked on you. 

And then the groom smiles.

He actually smiles, an event so rare one ought to write the date down to never forget such an occurrence. He actually seems to be attempting to hold back, biting his lower lip tight to avoid his mouth from breaking into a full grin. But the closer you come, the harder it becomes for him to hold it back. He stares at your approaching figure like he has just won the biggest prize in the lottery and is just waiting for it to be delivered to his eager hands. 

The moment you are by his side, he lifts your veil and throws it back. Tommy has half a mind to tell Jeremiah to skip the paraphernalia and just go straight to the pivotal moment. Not even bother to ask if anyone opposes the union; that person would find themselves filled with lead in an alley before the end of the day. 

“I am glad to see you came, Mrs Shelby” His warm breath caresses your ear, and even though your eyes are fixed on the priest, you know he is smirking.

“I am not yet Mrs. Shelby sir. I still have time to change my mind. That is why I have the car with engine running around the corner”

Your cheekiness is met with a playful tap of his shoe against your heel “I’d love to see you try to get away from me, love” While the ceremony progresses, he keeps his arm around you, not caring that it is not proper. After all, Tommy had never been one to care for appropriateness and he is not going to start now, now with his little wife so close to being his forever. When Jeremiah asks the crowd if anyone opposes the union, Arthur takes a step forward and points his finger at the masses, as if daring a soul to open their mouth. But no such trouble arises and at last, comes the moment your heart has been in somersaults for.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride”

~

People dance and glide across the dancefloor, glasses of champagne and whiskey coming and going at a dizzying pace. The most formal instances of the celebration had been left behind and the guests are now letting loose. Arthur has his tie around his head and it's being spun in place by John and Finn, just like little children playing ‘pin the tail’, although this seems more of a ‘plunk the drunk’. Ada is engaged deep in conversation with two other women, and whatever it is she is saying, the listeners seem to agree wholeheartedly with her. Polly is dancing with one of your uncles, and you presume by the look in her eyes that their night might end upstairs. 

You sit next to Tommy, his arm lazily thrown over your shoulders while you feed him bites of cake. For you he endured all the silly things, like cutting the cake together, drinking champagne with your arms linked, and he held your hand tight during the speeches to keep himself from tossing a piece of bread at John’s head. He let himself be paraded like a prop for your happiness, and now he relishes on one of those sweet moments where there are only you two and everything else is just background noise. 

“I am glad to see you did not run away, Mrs Shelby” He brushes his thumb down the line of your jaw, tickling your skin in a most marvellous way. The smile makes it to your lips without you noticing; you’ve smiled so often that evening you are positive your cheeks will be numb tomorrow.

“Hm, well yes. I decided that I wanted to try out what you had to offer” Your hand cups his cheek, delicate touch of your fingertips against his sharp cheekbone making him lean into your touch instinctively, his head tilted in the right angle to press his forehead to yours “Besides, the getaway car ran out of petrol”

“If it had not, I would have sent John out to put nails in the tires” His index lifts your chin, the gentle yet firm gesture ensuring you do not shy away from his gaze “You see, once something is mine, I never let it go, even if it tries to escape me” He leans in for a kiss, but you stop it with a gentle touch of your fingertip on his lips

“You see, I am yours now. But that does not mean you get to slack” Your hooded gaze fixates on his lips, still parted and ready for that kiss “You have to do a very good job to keep your wife…fulfilled. Isn’t that what they say? Happy wife, happy life?”

His strong arm falls from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you close so abruptly that even your chair drags across the floor. “Well Mrs Shelby, how about we go upstairs so I can show you how much of a good job I can do to keep you full and filled?”

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

Before You Go | MYG

Pairing: producer! best friend! yoongi x best friend! fem! reader

Summary: Life is taken for granted. People like to kill time not knowing it is time who is killing them. Love is not always a medicine, fate is always cruel. Or in which Yoongi realised his mistakes too late and was sentenced to live with an empty soul. There are times in which you can't always be there. He knew he was too late.

Warnings: ANGST, so much angst guys, medical terms, terminal sickness, argument, fainting, character death, more angst, feelings of guilt and desperation. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: Soooo, this was originally planned to be a drabble but it escalated so, hehe here it is! Also, I'm still working on the next part of Four Seasons. It'll be a long chapter so please bear with me.

Please let me know what you thought of this in the comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.

Word Count: 5.1k

"Three months at the most."

Said the doctor. You looked at him. No emotion marked your beautiful features. You blinked. A second passed. Then another and another. The world continued on its normal course while your sentence was already dictated. It almost seemed comical.

"There is, of course, a surgery we could perform on your brain. But I'm afraid it will only allow you to live for a year, year and a half if we are lucky. But it'd be dangerous. Even performing a biopsy is risky in your condition, Miss Lee."

You took a deep breath, your hand clutched your purse as it rested in your lap. The tickling of the clock was driving you insane, you wanted to leave your doctor's office, you wanted to run, to scream, to cry but your body was frozen in place.

A soft smile plastered on your face, the only reaction you could fathom at the moment.

"Thank you, Doctor Kim. I'll... I'll think about it."

He stood up, towering over you as he said with a nod. His hand extended to shake yours.

"Please, do so. Come in a few weeks if you start having headaches."

You nodded, shaking his hand as you also stood up.

"I will. Have a good day, Doctor Kim."

Your hand left his and you turned around to leave. Your feet carrying you out of the room that suddenly felt too small. You only wanted to go back to your flat and curl on your bed.

In a monotonous way you paid for the appointment at the reception of the hospital. Your eyes didn't focus on anything in particular while also noticing everything at the same time.

You walked slowly through the busy streets, the evening sun kissing your skin. The steps you took were automatic, you allowed your legs to take you home while in your mind there was only space for the doctor's words.

"Three months at the most."

That phrase repeated itself over and over again in your head. How you wished to just be home right now however, you decided to not take a cab, you wanted to enjoy the walk. Admire nature as you pass by the park and feel the sun in your skin.

Rarely did you ever pay attention to all those little things. Details that gave colour to your life. Details you were never able to forget. Not until it would happen and you'd leave this place. But you still had some time. Three months was too much.

Or that was what you thought.

~ 73 days later.

"You are hiding something from me!"

Yoongi exclaimed. Your heart clenched at the words coming out of your best friend's mouth. It hurt. It hurt to not tell him. For you to leave him in the dark. For him to think you weren't being honest with him.

You both had been friends for so long you couldn't count the days any longer.

"I'm not! Don't you trust me? We've been friends for so long, Yoongi!"

He sighed, wetting his lips as he tried to form words with his muddy thoughts swirling all over his head. He wasn't stupid. You'd been acting weird as of lately. You often gave him excuses of why you didn't want to leave your flat and when you both would go out he'd notice things.

He'd always notice when something was bothering you, when you were in pain, when too many thoughts were going on through your head. He knew you. Probably better than he knew himself.

All those little suspicions, the strange headaches you'd have only for later to vanish into thin air. The way you looked paler than usual, how you were overly tired.

He had noticed.

Yoongi would be a fool to not acknowledge the signs happening in front of his eyes. Yet his mind couldn't get a conclusion. Instead he was blinded by worry over you. Worry expressed as anger. As desperation. As frustration.

"It is you who is not trusting me, (y/n)! I know something's going on. And I will figure it out whether you like it or not."

"I do trust you."

Your voice sounded so hurt and small with those four words whispered out. Tears clouded your vision but you didn't fight back the moisture in your eyes. You kept looking at him in desperation.

Couldn't he just let it pass?

Apparently not. Yoongi was a stubborn man. If he wanted something, he got it. One way or another. But how would you tell him you were dying? How would you tell your best friend you didn't have much time to live? He had planned on taking you on vacation together after he had signed a good contract with a singer.

He promised to treat you to ice cream next Sunday. You promised that you'd be with him forever. You had been with him forever. In everything he had ever accomplished you had been there. You had been there to dry his tears and smile with him. to celebrate his victories and advise him during hard times.

You had always been there. Always by his side. Always in his life.

Did you have the right to take that away from him?

You were a coward. Yes. You knew that yourself. A part of you didn't want to acknowledge the fact that you were dying. And it hurt so much when Yoongi couldn't see further than his own assumptions. He didn't see you as someone he could trust anymore. He thought you were hiding something from him. Which, technically, you were.

Never in your life had you ever hidden something from him. That was why it hurt him so much when he realised there was something going on in your life that was taking a toll on you and he didn't know.

Yoongi ran a hand through his dark hair, his gaze softened slightly at the sound of your delicate voice. So vulnerable. So hurt. It wasn't like you to talk like that.

But despite his heart clenching at the sight of your tears, his next words cut you deeper than any knife could ever harm you. Not even the doctor's words three months ago had hurt as much as Yoongi's words.

"It doesn't seem like it. But if you don't want to tell me, fine. Take your secrets to your grave, I don't care."

Take your secrets to your grave.

If only he knew you were already standing above it. If only he had known those words had made your heart shatter in such a way you couldn't even fathom to say something, if only he knew there was more that met his sight.

If only he knew.

You didn't say anything. Silent tears were running down your cheeks. This was it. The tread you feared would ever break. He had broken it when you were already so sick, when your days were numbered. He had broken a friendship of years with a single sentence.

You were to blame too. If you hadn't been so scared, this argument would have never happened. This gap wouldn't exist. You are to blame too. You are at fault too. You ruined his trust, played with his emotions, wasted his time. All for what? So that you could keep a secret that would eventually come out?

But now it was too late.

Yoongi didn't want to hear anything else. You opened your mouth to say something. Anything at all. But the words died in your throat, shot down by his disappointed declaration instead.

"I'm leaving. I need some space to think."

Your hands trembled as they hung next to you limply. You were losing him. Yoongi, who was your closest friend, your best friend. The closest thing you ever had of a family. The man who owned your heart in more ways than he thought.

You lost him.

He wasn't going to intrude where he wasn't welcome. He wasn't going to push you. If you weren't going to trust him, there was no point in him staying in a place he no longer felt welcomed.

Yoongi turned around and left, not allowing you to say a single word. He wished you had stopped him. He wished you had walked over to him and grabbed his wrist, pleading him to listen. For you to tell him whatever was happening that made you hide it.

He wanted to know.

He needed to know.

Because his heart screamed a name he didn't want to recognise. His soul yearned for the touch of a woman he was yet to take into account. His mind was busy with thoughts of you. Memories of you. Plans with you.

But he didn't know what it meant. He didn't know what he so deeply desired. Needed. So he left.

Yoongi left you to yourself, your front door shut and you were alone. Alone for good. Left behind. Abandoned. Everyone has a limit and Yoongi has gotten to that limit.

He said he needed space to think. Space to be on his own. Time to think if your friendship was worthy of keeping or if he had to let it go. Despite the pain his soul would suffer and the wrecked heart he'd have to endure.

Sometimes it's better to just let go.

But he didn't know what he was letting go. He didn't know anything. Yoongi left without answers and you stayed with a broken heart.

It's been a week since that argument. There had been no calls or texts from Yoongi. And you weren't going to get in contact first either. He wanted space, you'd give him that. He wanted time, you'd give him what you had left.

You sat in front of your desk, soft rain pattered over the glass. It was calming. Soothing in a way. A pen rested in your hand as words were being scribbled down on a sheet of paper addressed to him. To Yoongi.

You were giving him all the time you had for him to come back. But just in case you ran out of it, you wanted to explain everything to him. He deserved to know. You realised that now. He had deserved to know since the very beginning.

But you were scared. You had been selfish. You chose to live in a fantasy when reality clawed its way through you, tearing you apart in your little safe world that you wish would come true. But wishes never come true. There are no happy endings for liars. There is no mercy to change your fate.

You put the letter on an envelope with Yoongi's name written on the front. It was a letter only for his eyes to read and his mind to comprehend. It was for his mind to keep and his heart to treasure. Only for him. Always for him.

You stood up, the destination of your bedroom in mind as you were feeling tired. It wasn't unusual these days. The naps you took were getting longer and longer. You knew one day you might as well not wake up again.

But fate wasn't that merciful. You took a step, a single step forward only to have a piercing ache in your head that made you hiss. You shut your eyes, trying to get it to pass but it didn't work. If only it only got stronger with each passing second.

Your hands clasped at your scalp, fingers pulling your hair in a desperate need of relief.

The realisation hit you stronger than a train. You needed help. And you needed it fast. You stumbled towards the coffee table, the only goal in your mind was to get your phone and call for help. Something was wrong. Very wrong. You knew it. You felt it. You couldn't ignore it anymore.

With a shaking hang you reached for your phone, you didn't even bother to unlock it as you pressed the emergency call button. It rang and rang and rang, the pain continued to increase, your vision blurred.

You prayed to the skies that the person on the other line would answer. It was your only chance. The last straw to life you clawed at desperately. But it rang again and again and again and you couldn't help thinking that perhaps this was it.

Yoongi came back from the bathroom in his studio, he had been working on some new beats he wanted to try out in the near future. He had been keeping himself busy with work so as to not think about the fight he had with you a week ago.

A part of him wished you'd call him or text him but he knew you too well. If he had asked for space you were going to give him that. This was probably the worst fight you two had ever had throughout your years of friendship

He sat back down in front of the large computer screen, putting on his headphones. Yoongi continued with his work.

It wasn't until out of the corner of his eyes he saw the phone's screen lighten up. He didn't have to look at it to know someone was calling him. He sighed, taking the headphones off and saving the file with his music before he blindly picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

But there was silence. No-one answered back and for a moment, Yoongi thought it was one of those scam calls he always blocked. But before he could hang up, his name reached his ear in your whispered voice.

"Yoongi..."

He knew something was wrong the moment the first syllable reached him. He frowned, leaning forward in his chair as he tried to listen to your voice.

"(y/n)? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

The fight he had with you vanished from his thoughts as they were clouded with worry for you. He was getting scared, never in your life had you called him in such a state that it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with nerves.

You whimpered, pressing the phone close to your ear. The pain in your head was getting stronger and stronger that you couldn't speak.

"(y/n)?"

Your best friend's voice came from the other side of the phone, if you hadn't been so blinded by the white pain pressing on your skull you would have noticed the concern in his deep voice.

"(y/n), you are scaring me, what's going on?"

Yoongi stood up from his chair, grabbing his car keys in a hurry.

"H-help me."

When you dialled your emergency contact you didn't remember you had saved Yoongi's number there.

Those two words were enough to have him bolting out of the door. The destination of your place carved in his mind as he left the building.

He kept his phone pressed to his ear as he ran through the studio. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he thought it would leave his body. Adrenaline pumped in his veins. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

The fact itself scared him, because that something had to do with you. He felt as if the building was larger than normal. Like in those nightmares as he tried to reach the exit but it got further and further away. This had to be a nightmare, right?

He heard your gasp through the phone unaware of the fact that you had fallen to your knees in your apartment, your other hand clutching your head in a vice grip.

"(y/n/n) talk to me. I need you to say something. Please."

Yoongi reached the door and pulled on the handle with more force than was needed. He stepped outside, inhaling the humid air as the soft drizzle tapped against his form.

"I'm sorry."

He yanked the car door open and got inside, one hand was on the steering wheel while the other still held his phone against the side of his face.

"It's alright, (y/n). I'm on my way, okay? Just hold on, I'll be there in a second."

But you didn't hear those words from him. There was a ringing in your ears that took hold of your senses, the phone slipped from your grasp as you fell to the ground over the soft carpet with a dry sound. You closed your eyes, allowing the pain to take you in its claws of darkness as you surrendered yourself to it.

You had been fighting for so long. A little nap wouldn't harm you. You slipped into unconsciousness with the last thought in your mind being: Yoongi.

The man who you were previously speaking to fell into a frenzy when he heard the sound of the phone colliding with your carpeted floor. The hand on the wheel tightened to the point where his knuckles turned white.

"Darling, answer me please! Say something."

But he could only hear your laboured breaths from the other line. He ended the call and threw his phone on the passenger's seat. A curse leaving his lips. If the circumstances had been different, he would have blushed when the nickname escaped his lips but he couldn't fight it in a moment like this. He couldn't help the fear, the anxiety, the stress, the guilt from controlling his mind.

From making him act the way he was. He pressed on the gas and accelerated into the street. Not caring if he got a ticket for the speed limit, not caring if he drenched the bypassers with his car, not caring for anything else other than getting to you.

Tears of desperation began forming in his dark eyes but he blinked them back. It was not the time to cry. Not now. Not when you needed him. Not when you were in danger. Not when you had called him to help you. Not when his heart yearned to have you, feel you, touch you.

Not now.

Yoongi arrived at your flat in record time. With his heart thumping in his chest and his hands trembling, he stepped out of the car. He didn't even bother to lock it behind him as he was already running up the stairs that led to your apartment.

He used his spare key, one he was immensely grateful you had given him. Not bothering to knock or to take his shoes off he barged into the place like a desperate man. He was a desperate man.

Desperate to see you fine, to find you healthy, for you to be alright.

But his world came crumbling down like a paper plane when he saw you laying over the grey carpet, your phone by your side. You weren't moving.

For a moment he couldn't move. The patterning of the rain against the window drowned him in an ocean of tears he was keeping inside his soul. The quietness of your flat wasn't normal, you were always humming to yourself, playing some music. Doing something.

But as he saw you laying there, limp and cold, Yoongi's heart shattered into a million pieces.

He was brought out of his trance by some miracle, he found himself at your side the next second. His hands wouldn't stop shaking as he pulled your shoulder to lay you flat against the floor.

"(y/n)?"

But you didn't react. It almost seemed as if you were sleeping. The rise and fall from your chest was the only indication to Yoongi that you had only fainted. The circumstances as to why were still unknown to him.

His hand cradled your cheek, trying to get a reaction out of you. Something. Anything at all. But you were long gone in the world of darkness.

In a mere second, he was able to recall your call with him. You sounded in pain. Hurt. There was something that had led to your current state. Something that needed medical attention.

His hands slipped under your body and he stood up; an arm beneath your shoulders and the other supporting the back of your knees. Yoongi walked towards his car in long and hurried steps. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. His stomach churned with nerves.

If you hadn't called him, how much time would have passed until someone eventually found you? He couldn't think of that possibility. He decided to focus on the now, on the fact that he had you in his arms, that he had found you, that you were going to be okay. You had to be. For his sanity.

The soft rain wasn't enough to drench you or him as he made his way towards his parked car. With as much care as he could muster and with some tricky manoeuvre he managed to sit you in the passenger's seat and strap you to it.

Your head lulled to the side and his hand, once more, found home against the side of your face. In any other situation Yoongi would have thought that you were merely sleeping. To a point you were.

Have you always been this beautiful?

He thought to himself before he shook himself out of those thoughts and walked around the car, getting into the driver's seat and speeding off to the hospital.

One hand was on the steering wheel while the other one clasped yours tightly. It was a way to ground himself. To ground his thoughts and remember that you were there, that you'd be fine. That you were with him.

If someone had asked Yoongi before today when he had been the most patient he'd have answered when he had to download one of his large files.

But now, now as he sat in the waiting room of the hospital waiting for news about you was the time when his patience got tested.

How he wished to just enter into the room where the doctor was checking you. He needed to know what was going on. What had happened to you.

He needed to know that everything was going to be fine.

In his desperation, he called one of his friends, Hoseok and explained the situation with a lump forming at the back of his throat.

"She'll be fine, Yoongi. She's a tough girl. I'm sure it's nothing serious but I'll be there in thirty minutes in case you need anything."

That was what Hoseok had said over the line. He had met you on a few occasions, more than a few to be honest. The sweet man came to know that you were a beautiful woman with a kind heart and he respected too much the friendship Yoongi had with you.

"Is anyone here for Lee (y/n)?"

A doctor said with a clipboard in his hands. Yoongi immediately got up. His legs carrying him to the man dressed in a white coat, his eyes were red with unshed tears.

"I brought her here. Please, is she alright?"

The doctor let out a sigh that made alarm bells ring in his head.

"You better come with me."

Yoongi swallowed yet the lump in his throat only got bigger and bigger with each passing second, with each step he took behind the doctor. He stopped in front of a door, presumably your room before he spoke, his tone professional with a hint of sorrow for the broken man in front of him.

"(y/n)'s condition worsened too much in the last week. I'm surprised how quickly it deteriorated. The tumour in her brain got to the amygdala, that was what caused her immense pain resulting in her to lose consciousness."

The tumour in her brain...

The tumour in her brain...

The tumour in her brain...

...what?

"What... what do you mean with "the tumour in her brain"? She... Is she-"

So many thoughts were racing through his mind too quickly he began to feel nauseous. You were sick? All this time you had been sick? Is this what you had been hiding? The doctor sighed yet again as he spoke once more, his voice sombre this time.

"I believe she never told you."

Yoongi shook his head. Too in shock to utter a word. He felt as if someone had stabbed him in the heart. He'd bet that a stab wound would hurt less than this. The sole thought of losing you was heartbreaking enough but he couldn't help but feel like shit when the argument he had on your flat repeated itself in his mind over and over and over again.

Like a broken record player.

In a mocking manner.

With sadistic intentions.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Mr. Min."

A tear rolled down Yoongi's cheek slowly.

"Will she be alright?"

The world might as well end now because the younger man couldn't fathom the idea of existing. Not after the doctor's next words.

"I'm sorry. She was never a candidate for surgery, we detected the tumour too late. She isn't conscious right now but you might as well go in. I don't think she'd be able to hold on for much longer."

He hadn't expected that. He was supposed to be told you hadn't been taking your meals or you were dehydrated to the point in which you fainted. You weren't supposed to be dying. And what was worse was that he had never known.

For how long have you known of your condition?

Why did you hide it from him?

Why didn't you let him support you?

Yoongi entered your room without another word leaving his lip. He nearly collapsed at the sight of you. Pale and weak lying in a hospital bed. An IV tube was attached to your hand. Your eyes were closed.

He sat on the chair next to your bed. His trembling hands reached out for your smaller one. Why wouldn't his hands stop shaking?

"Why didn't you tell me, (y/n)?"

Those whispered words were meant for your ears only but they never reached you. You couldn't react to his stimuli even if you wanted to. your limp hand in his made tears cloud his vision and this time, he didn't hold them back.

"This was it, wasn't it? This was what you were hiding from me, right?"

He wished you'd just move, he wished you would open your eyes and gaze at him like all those times before. He wished he could hear your voice. At least one last time.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for shouting at you that day. Y-you didn't deserve that."

If he could turn back time he'd make everything different.

"Please, (y/n/n). Please open your eyes."

If only he had been more observant.

"You cannot leave me now. Not now. Not like this."

If only he hadn't been so selfish and distanced himself from you.

"I cannot live without you, (y/n)."

If only he had been there.

"Please."

If only he had been a better friend. The best friend you deserved. The best friend you needed.

"Please don't leave me."

If only he had said the words when you could hear them. If only he hadn't taken your time for granted.

"I beg you, darling. Please don't go. Please."

Hoseok ran through the halls, the number of the room you were at was engraved in his mind for he knew Yoongi was by your side. His hand grabbed the door handle and he twisted it.

What Hoseok saw after opening that door was never going to leave his memories. A sight for his eyes to never forget.

Yoongi was grasping your hand so tightly his knuckles were white. His eyes were red and puffy as tears leaked from his dark orbs, like endless rivers of absolute and utter pain. The sound of his sobs reached Hoseok's ears. A flat line in the background.

"S-she's... she's gone. She's g-gone, Hobi."

Hoseok could only watch in horror. Never in his life had he seen Min Yoongi look so broken. So empty. Never had he cried in such a way. The sight was painful enough that tears made their way to his own eyes.

Yoongi's sobs were like poisonous arrows dripping with the blood of his wounded heart. An irreparable wound. Shattered pieces of his very own soul.

Hoseok took slow steps toward his friend until he was able to rest a hand over his shoulder.

"She didn't suffer, Yoongi. You were by her side, you allowed her to go in peace."

But those words did little to console him. He couldn't stop thinking about the "what if's". He couldn't stop the blame to gnaw at his already broken heart.

"I-I never told her, Hobi. I was a coward and I... I never fucking told her."

Hoseok's heart clenched at the pain laced in his friend's words. His pale hand grabbed yours with more strength, if that was even possible. As if he could prevent you from leaving him when you were already gone.

"I never told her that I loved her!"

Hi Yoongs, I hope you are alright.

How's life going on for you?

If you are reading this letter it probably means I am no longer with you and I'm so sorry that I had to leave you behind but as you may already know, I had no choice.

This was what I had been hiding from you. I am sick. Terminal apparently. There's nothing to be done and I don't want any kind of painful treatment. I decided to let go and enjoy what I had of time.

Please don't blame yourself. I chose not to tell you so that I could experience my life as it was. Normally and by your side.

I may not be there physically but know that I live through your memories. Please don't give up on your dreams because of me and go and do all the things you talked to me about. Fulfil our wishes. Be happy.

I wish you the best.

Thank you for being my best friend. And it is probably the worst way of saying this but I want you to know that I love you. I love you in that way. As in more than a friend. You were the best person that ever crossed paths with me, I didn't want to ruin that friendship.

I now realise that was probably a mistake. I loved you deeply. With all my heart and being. That was why telling you about my condition was more painful than it should have been. Because just as your happiness is my happiness; your pain is also my pain.

I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want you to say things out of pity. I didn't want that. I wanted to leave in the most normal way I possibly could.

Please know that I love you and I wish you the best in life. I won't be your friend all your life, let alone your lover. I won't live that long. But I will treasure your friendship and love you all my life.

I am part of your life but you are my whole life.

~(y/n).

July/30/2023

~Masterlist

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are really appreciated!!!

**☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[silverfoxstole]

And… it’s done! One finished waistcoat and shirt combo.

Apart from a few hiccups (such as when I accidentally dyed the first lot of cotton lawn for the shirt cream - oops), it’s all turned out pretty much as I’d envisioned.

The shirt is my go-to shirt pattern, the Sewaholic Granville, which I’ve made many times. I removed the back princess seams a while ago to save matching a busy fabric, and this time I opted not to bother with pockets as they never get used. It’s very light and should be cool to wear in the summer, either as a coverup or tied at the waist.

For the waistcoat I’d originally intended using the Style Arc Joy pattern even though it doesn’t have a collar and I ideally wanted one; before I bought it however I happened to receive an email full of waistcoat patterns (serendipity or what?) and found New Look 6914 which features five different styles, two with collars. Normally I shy away from Big Four patterns (unless it’s for outerwear) because they’re so unreliable regarding measurements; fortunately I read a few reviews that mentioned the ridiculous amount of ease (5 and a half inches!!) so opted to go down a couple of sizes which turned out to be the right decision. I didn’t bother to toile and it’s more or less spot-on though I did have to make my usual alterations for princess seams, taking them in over the bust and into the armholes front and back. It’s a straightforward pattern to follow, but one thing I would do if I make it again is change the way it’s bagged out as the method used makes it awkward to sew and impossible to adjust the side seams.

The instructions use the main fabric for both back and front but as that’s not what happens with traditional waistcoats I opted for satin as both back and lining, which turned out to be something of a headache. The fabric was less stable than the one I used for my coat lining and I really should have overlocked all the edges before I started; I decided to zigzag so as not to have to re-thread the overlocker, which I hate doing, and the stuff just frayed through the extra stitching, resulting in some holes that had to be (not very neatly as I’m a poor hand sewer) fixed afterwards. I’m just hoping the whole thing doesn’t disintegrate after a few wears! It’s definitely not going near the washing machine just in case.

While I wanted a waistcoat anyway, not having worn one since the early nineties, after I’d made my Dark Eyes jacket I thought it would be fun to make something else that was a take on one of the Eighth Doctor’s costumes but that I could wear as part of my usual wardrobe. There wasn’t a lot of choice as far as fabric went; I wanted brocade, and this was the closest I could find. In colour it’s more akin to the one Paul wore for Power of the Doctor, but if you used the wrong side it would actually be a little closer to the one from NotD, something I didn’t notice until I was partway through. It frayed a lot, though not as much as the satin, and as i worked I got covered in bits and threads. I have no idea why I always choose to wear black jeans whenever I sew with fabric that sheds but it happens every single time! Thank goodness for lint rollers!

Now, because I’d based these pieces on a costume, I just had to get a couple of other bits to finish it off, didn’t I? 😉

The scarf is a little chiffon one that I could wear with other things for a vintage look; the chain is just that, no watch as the pockets are false welts.

Cue the obligatory mirror selfies (for once turned the right way round)! Unfortunately I haven’t owned a pair of lace-up knee boots in about twenty five years, which is a shame.

I also recreated that transitionary look I drew a while ago, with the jacket:

Now I am starting to really want to take on the NotD coat. I love frock coats and I’ve always wanted one, plus I’ve found some fabric and a perfect pattern…

[olivexii]

⁀➷ ┄─ ˑ One shot . ☆ ──ㅤ OUAT

Ouat season 3 + reader insert

One shot

Masterlist

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, mentions of being shot

Summary: Drunken nights with the lost boys, secretively contemplating if you’ll ever get off the island leads to an angry Pan and dangerous games in the dark.

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Late, drunken nights were not a common thing in Neverland. Usually the night would end early with a simple game, or a bonfire. But Pan had decided to celebrate tonight. Hook had left the island, meaning we could relax until a new threat came up.

The sound of boys hollering and dancing around the fire filled the camp, they had no worries of being snuck on or ambushed by pirates, only worrying of the headaches they would have in the morning.

The younger boys had been sent to bed, it was too late for them and they would have had no fun with the drunken older boys anyway.

All of the teenage boys were dancing, minus me and Felix. Pan had wondered off to scan the island, although everyone knew that was an excuse. No one really knew where he snuck off to at night. There were rumours of him getting closer to finding the so called ‘Truest Believer’, but few believed it. He had been searching for hundreds of years, was there really a chance of him finding the believer now?

“Do you think we’ll ever get off this island?”

I turned to Felix, who was sat next to me on the same log, flask in one hand (filled with rum we had stolen a few weeks back from a pirate ship that we had ambushed) as the other rested on his club, which lay upright against his right leg.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think we’ll ever get off this island?” He repeated, his eyes fixed onto the ground, a frown etched onto his brows. The fire crackled as white noise in the background and illuminated his the bottom half of his scarred face, the top half shadowed by his dark coloured cloak hood.

“I think we will eventually. We can’t stay here forever.” I sighed, looking up at the hollering lost boys in sorrow, “Some can’t even remember life before here. Their parents, homes, anything.” I trailed off and ran a hand through my hair.

Felix turned his attention towards me and followed my gaze. “All I remember of my parents is that they were French… or Canadian. One of the two.” He huffed, taking another swig from the flask, "We were poor."

I turned back to the boy and admired him, his scarred face and hands that had killed many boys before. Some called him Pan’s ‘Lap dog’, always following the shorter boys orders. But if you looked in his eyes when he was around the demon, nothing but fear filled them. He only followed orders because he was scared of what might happen if he disobeys.

“Give me that.” I said, reaching for the metal flask and taking a sip, the burning taste running down my throat and warming my stomach.

“Is that straight?” I coughed at him, not expecting such a strong, bitter taste.

“I couldn’t be bothered to go down to the river and mix it.” He laughed at me, and my spluttering state, “I thought you could handle your alcohol better?” Felix teased.

“Oh shut up. I didn’t know it would be straight.” I snapped back playfully, handing him the flask and shaking my head lke a dissaproving mother before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand gently in attempt to sooth the burning the spirit had made when it hit the cut on my lip.

There was a moment of silence between us as we watched the boys dance and sing around the fire, banging their sticks together in an attempt to make drum beats. They looked happy. A drastic contrast to when they were fighting pirates or playing one of Pan’s brutal games.

“They look so happy.” I whispered to myself, however it was heard by the tall boy beside me. He didn’t reply, just turned his head to look at me, the frown still etched onto his face.

“I think we will leave. All of us, one day.” I said, looking down at my feet and running my hand through my hair again before turning to Felix.

He nodded, breaking eye contact and sighing, “I hope we will. I want to live. I can’t li-”

The blonde boy’s sentence was cut short when a firm, cold hand landed on his shoulder from behind, gripping him tightly.

“What’s the conversation Felix?” We both turned our head quickly to look at the demon, Pan.

Felix stuttered, unable to respond as the shorter boy glanced back and forth between us, his eyebrow raised out of curiosity.

“Anyway,” Pan began, “I propose a game. A late night game. Since we can now play without the worry of running into pirates.” The boy raised his voice with a smirk, catching the attention of the lost boys as they froze in their place.

“Hide and hunt.” He stated, walking away from me and Felix to head towards the teenagers. Some of the lost boys cheered and whooped in excitement, obviously happy at being able to play.

“Alf! Hugo! You’re hunting, go get your bows.”

The two ran off quickly. They were good archers, making this game even more frightening.

“You two are playing as well.” Pan turned around on his heels to look at me and Felix, a sadistic grin plastered on his face as he took a step towards us, his chin raised his and hands at his side, the sleeves of his shirt slightly riding up his arms.

“You have 15 minutes to hide!” He called, the boys scattering around into the forest, all heading in different directions.

“What are you waiting for? Go.” The demon’s grin dropped as he pointed behind him, towards the dark trees.

Me and Felix looked at each other, worry etched on my face as we stood and quickly ran, the sound of the crackling bonfire getting quieter. I could only hear our panting and heavy footsteps as we ran deeper through the trees, me following the tall boy. It was a struggle to keep up with him, his long legs easily jumping over the roots of trees and swerving past bushes.

After about 5 minutes of non-stop running we both stopped to catch our breath. I sat down against a large tree, bringing my legs up to my chest and resting my head on my knees, while Felix stood against a tree opposite me, his arms folded over his chest with his eyes closed, his club having been left back at camp.

“Do you think we’re far enough away?” I asked after a few minutes, my voice raspy.

“No. You know how much of a good runner Hugo is, we saw him in training.” He panted.

“Fuck, you’re right.” I replied, putting my head further into my knees, still trying to catch my breath, “Why did he have to pick two of the best archers as well. Last time it was Slight and Rich, they couldn’t aim for shit.”

“Yeah we got lucky there.” The lost boy grumbled.

Suddenly the sound of a branch snapping filled the silence. I quickly brought my head up and looked at Felix, my eyes wide. Someone was coming towards us.

“Shit.” I heard him whisper under his breath as he frantically looked around in an attempt to spot the threat, his hand now resting on the hooked wooden weapon that he keeps on his belt.

“It’s just me.” We heard a soft voice say.

“Fuck Jude.”

“Don’t scare us like that.” I hissed, standing up and looking at the short boy. Jude was young, but wasn’t that young enough to go to bed at the same time as all the other young lost boys. He was 13, and had scraggly brown hair that reached his shoulders.

“Okay sorry.” He grumbled in response, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You staying with us?” Felix asked him.

“Yeah why not. Alf and Hugo are good hunters, if I get shot I don’t wanna have to die alone.”

“Jeez you’re not gonna get shot Jude.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and rolling my eyes, turning my head away from him.

“Okay first of all, calm down with that attitude. Second of all, I’ve been shot in hide and hunt before! Do you not remember when Leo shot me in the foot!” He raised his voice in defence.

“Shut up.” Both me and Felix hissed at the same time, scared of being caught.

Jude rolled his eyes in response, before looking down at the ground and kicking at the dirt.

“We better move further away from camp. Up in the mountains, they don’t usually go up there.” I stated, the other two nodding in response.

The walk there was silent, aside from the sounds of hour own footsteps and the soft breeze from the sea rustling in the trees. We didn’t cross any other lost boys, and we were too scared to speak. The only time we talked was to help each other up steep hill sides or over abnormally large tree roots. Jude struggled the most, both me and Felix had to push him up over the obstacles, but not without a joking complaint about his weight.

The silence however, didn’t last as long as we hoped. An arrow flew in between me and Felix, narrowly missing Jude and pinning his hood to a tree. With widened eyes we all looked at each other, before the 13 year old quickly grabbed at the arrow to free himself and started sprinting.

Felix grabbed my wrist and we followed after the boy, the swooshing sound of arrows following us, which only heightened my fear.

“I thought you said they never go up this high!” Felix hissed at me once we had stopped running, the sound of arrows and quick footsteps behind us had disappeared.

“I guess they learnt from last time.” I sighed, hands on my hips and my head looking at the sky, trying to ease some of the pain on my lower back and neck.

“Learnt from last time?” Jude questioned, leaning against a large log.

“Don’t tell me you don’t have any common sense.” The taller boy questioned, sounding annoyed.

“What do you mean?”

“In every single game of hide and hunt, we all get to as high ground as possible. It’s harder to shoot on uneven ground, and if you’re higher than them, you have the advantage of gravity.” Felix sighed, moving to sit down.

“What?” The brunette tilted his head.

“Oh my god Jude, you can’t be serious.” I groaned.

“What?!”

“Don’t tell me that every single game you’ve been running around frantically at sea level.”

“Yeah?”

“Well it’s no wonder you’ve been shot.”

“Okay jeez calm down. I’m starting to regret coming with you guys.”

“And I’m starting to regret offering you to come along.” Felix argued.

“Anyway. We should wait here until the Sun rises. It’s high enough up that Alf and Hugo will be too tired to climb any further.” I explained, sitting down as well.

“Good that.” Felix sighed, “I’m sleeping, one of you two needs to keep watch.”

“Me too, sucks to be you.” Jude laughed, taking off his cloak and folding it into a pillow.

“Fuck you guys, I’m waking you up in an hour.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The Sun began to rise after a few hours, me having slept only two while Felix was on look out.

“Wake up.” He grumbled, kicking my back gently with his shoes.

“Calm down grumpy, I'm awake.” I rolled over.

“Wake Jude up, he’ll get lost trying to make his way back to camp on his own, the little shit.”

The walk back was silent, the forest was still dark, but the game was over. The Sun casting beams onto the tops of the trees, leaving us walking in the shadows.

“How many do you think they hit?” Jude asked, walking along a fallen tree, arms stretched at his side for balance and his tongue sticking out in concentration. I forget that they are just boys.

“At least one, other wise it’s bad luck for them.” Felix laughed, his hand resting on his belt as he walked.

U“I’m so glad I’ve never been the hunter before. I don’t think I could handle all that pressure. Imagine knowing you have to shoot someone or else you will have your heart crushed?” I sighed, stepping over stray rocks and tree roots.

“Touch wood we’ll never be picked as hunters. But it’s just Pan’s way of showing power and inflicting fear.” The tall boy grinned, “Nothing like a bit of a death scare to get the blood pumping”

“You’re so much scarier when you’re sober.” I grimaced.

“I get too sappy when I’m drunk.” He countered, “It’s not what I really think, just… What’s that thing you mentioned again??”

“What thing.” My body stopped and turned to look at him.

“That thing where you say something that you didn’t mean but you did mean it deep down.”

“A freudian slip?”

“Yes, a freudian slip. I don’t understand all these new age terms the lost boys keep talking about.”

“First of all Felix, it’s not a freudian slip it’s called being drunk and speaking your mind. Second of all, you’re just so behind because you’ve been trapped on this island for centuries.”

“HA! ROASTED.”

“Shut up Jude.” We both hissed, the young boy starting to get on our nerves.

“Whatever, how long until we get back.” The brunette complained, jumping down from the tree log with a thud.

“I don’t know kid, we ran pretty far.”

“Well I never run this far in games.” He explained, “My legs aren’t used to it.”

“And that’s why you keep getting shot.” I laughed back. Jude replied with an incoherent murmur and a sigh, crossing his arms like a child having a temper tantrum.

After about 10 minutes the clearing for the camp became visible.

“Yesss…” Jude sighed, running ahead of us towards his tent.

Many of the lost boys had arrived back before us, already getting started on their daily chores.

“Ah! There you are, so lucky of you to finally join us.” Pan raised his voice as he walked towards us, hands behind his back, and a devilish grin plastered on his face.

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

A/N: i havent posted in so long sorry but ive just been busy with my degree and work that im hoping to publish.

[stardomyx]

“PROMARE” Theory -Burnout Burnish: The strange case of Governor Kray Foresight.

Originally from my Wordpress site: DISCLAIMER: I would like to establish that nobody has to agree with or even like my theories, especially since this particular post is on a Canon character. These are purely my headcanons and my thoughts on this character, I am not about to force these ideas/headcanons onto anyone.

It’s no secret that Studio Trigger’s 2019 animated movie ‘Promare’ is a fun, emotional ride from start to finish, and is more than likely to leave you with both a headache and a lot of questions, for it’s also no secret that this fiery fun fest is filled with more plot holes than a fine Swiss cheese. But some – including myself – would argue that this presents an opportunity to theorise and fill in the gaps for ourselves.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

Throughout the film, we see various characters succumbing and becoming hosts to the vibrant, alien fire life forms known as the Promare and as a result, this group of people go on to become known as the Burnish. The biggest montage of this occurrence happens right at the very beginning of the film, as the audience is introduced to the basic premise of the story. Throughout this bright, colourful, yet pretty grim series of shots, the majority of the newly awakened Burnish all appear to manifest their new powers in very much the same way, it’s almost worth calling it a pattern. 

The film shows us that a Burnish’s awakening is often intense, sudden, and destructive to the people and property that are unlucky enough to get into its way. The Promare manifesting in this manner is undoubtedly a big part of what caused the Great World Blaze to be as devastating as it was, with half of the human population being reportedly wiped out. However, after I’d watched the film through a few times, I started to realise that most of the people who became Burnish throughout the story follow this pattern. The pattern being that the colourful fire would come bursting out from either their eyes or mouth, sometimes both; but most of these awakenings are generally centred around the facial area, as seen below. 

The only, tiny anomaly to this strange pattern appears to be poor Thyma – who in “Galo Hen/Side: Galo” is seen to have Burnish flames rise up from directly beneath her while she’s lying on the ground. However, this first burst of flame does still appear to have manifested in her upper body, and upon closer inspection; her eyes are blank and her mouth is open. I would count her as a slight oddity, and perhaps that this is all owing to the fact that she was on the ground when the Promare manifested, but in the grand scheme of things, her awakening doesn’t stand out terribly alongside every other Burnish in the film.

As for what causes the Promare to manifest in these specific areas the most – I’m honestly not sure – my best guess is that it’s a metaphor for their minds and possibly also their wills merging together with their hosts; as human and Promare. Professor Deus Prometh is heard to claim that the Promare sync with the humans it resonates with, so perhaps the brain is where this resonance happens the most. Lastly, it’s worth noting that Lio himself says that the Burnish can clearly hear the Promare, as they urge their human hosts to let them burn, the Promare are in their heads. So with all things considered, the fire life forms manifesting in this way makes sense.

However, like most things in the world, there’s always an exception, and that exception just might take the form of one character.

That being the villain of the film: Kray Foresight.

Kray’s awakening is drastically different from any other we see. Not only is his first ‘spasm’ – as he so delicately describes it – concentrated into his arm rather than his eyes or mouth, but the resulting blaze also amputates that arm completely, burning it away to nothing but ashes.

So what happened here?

My best guess is that – canonically at least – this is all metaphorical; simply put, Kray’s bitter resistance to the Promare messed up his own awakening. Most of the Burnish we see in the film are proud of the fact that they are Burnish in defiance of the oppression they face. This rings particularly and especially true for Lio and the rest of Mad Burnish, but Kray very obviously doesn’t share that sentiment. His disdain towards the Burnish has lead to him shunning this part of himself, which is most likely why his awakening was depicted in such a way. There’s also the fact that he’s the antagonist, and this radically different awakening was most likely done to portray that fact. But I like overthinking things, and I quite like the idea that this is beyond just being metaphorical, and that there’s something seriously, scarily wrong with the way Kray synced up with his Promare. To the point that I’d argue that they didn’t actually sync up at all.

I’d go further than just saying that Kray’s Burnish awakening got off to a rocky start, I would say that he never received the immunity to the Promare’s power in the first place. The protection that the rest of the Burnish obviously have against the heat of their flames is very much absent here, and his big reveal towards the end of the film just solidifies the theory – to me – that his flames actually hurt him as a result of this imperfect awakening. Actively using his flames cause him pain as a result of his resistance to becoming a host for the fire life forms, which would no doubt result in strengthening his hatred of the Burnish and of the Promare. Lets dive in.

-

I’ll start with the most obvious point; Kray wants and perhaps needs to keep his Promare subdued to the best of his ability, not just because he’s the Governor actively campaigning against the Burnish, but also possibly because slipping up has a painful price tag attached to it. Thanks to the technology he has at his disposal however, he has been able to keep it under wraps.

There are a few scenes in the film which suggest that his uniform is infused with freezing tech of some kind; maybe even the same kind used in the anti-burnish cuffs. Of course, there’s the scene atop the Foresight Foundation building where Lio’s destruction of Promepolis almost leads to Kray using his powers, but thanks to Galo, there ends up being no need for it. The scene ends without there being a Burnish reveal on Kray’s part, but not before we’re treated to a tiny wisp of steam rising up from his palm. Besides that, there’s the more obvious and yet somehow simultaneously more inconspicuous scene where his flames – now well and truly free – have to blast through what’s quite clearly a coating of ice to get to their target. It really puts me in mind of – again – the anti-Burnish handcuffs, as well as the weapons used by both Burning Rescue and Freeze Force. This kind of icy shield would keep his Promare locked in and deactivated, thus decreasing the risk of injury.

This either implies that Kray wilfully deactivated the cooling tech in his uniform because he knew it was Crunch Time, or his Promare simply burnt through the safety features he’d installed. I prefer to go with the latter option, just… Because it’s kind of scary to think about. 

Towards the end of the film – where we see the most of Kray wielding his Burnish powers – he appears to prefer the use of his prosthetic arm throughout his fight with Lio and Galo. This could just be because he’s a lefty and he never truly got used to losing his dominant arm, but the fact that the majority of his attacks all come from his prosthetic arm, does point towards the theory that his flames cause him discomfort. Sending the flames down through this prosthetic limb would probably divert some of the pain, and judging by the way the arm is seen to warp and swell up in size – more so than the swelling in the rest of his body – tells me that this is where he’s concentrating most of his Burnish power in an attempt to keep his body safe. Though, considering what happened to the rest of his body anyway, it looks to me as if his efforts are mostly in vain; more on that later.

However, there is an instance of him using his organic arm for his powers – while his prosthetic is busy treating Lio like a squeaky toy. The flames from his organic arm are actually the ones seen blasting through the freezing tech in his uniform, pictured further above. Once burnt through that protective, cold layer though, he visibly strains and almost flinches before sending his flames to attack Galo for a second time, like he’s bracing himself for the pain, and this is the only part of the film where we see him using his Burnish powers with his remaining arm.

Even before his Burnish reveal, it’s clear that his body is slowly gearing up to let it all out, the choice of sound design used for Kray straining against his Promare after Heris overloads the Prometech engine is absolutely terrifying and uncomfortable to listen to. But the situation is dire, and with Starship Parnassus’ engine destroyed, Kray might not even be in a clear enough state of mind to fully process the fact that it’s going to hurt. The fact that it takes him this long to consider letting loose and using what is clearly his last resort to get what he wants, just puts across how desperate a situation has to be before he even entertains the idea of using his Promare. The same can be said with how he reacted to Lio’s rampage on Promepolis, he was ready to resort to using his own powers then, only after all of the anti-Burnish technology on the outside of the Foresight Foundation building had failed to stop the fiery dragon.

At the risk of sounding like I’m siding with him – I can’t really blame him for going this far to suppress it all, if using his Promare is going to do… This to him.

I’ve made the argument before about how Lio’s “Kakusei” form and whatever happened to Kray differ in a few ways. Lio’s overall physique stays the same while he’s laying waste to Promepolis – despite the drastic change in colours and the ‘horns’ he grows. To me it looks as if he’s merely adopted the appearance of his Mad Burnish mech in an attempt to make himself look more threatening, though he uses his great, flaming dragon to deal out most of the destruction. Kray meanwhile looks as if he’s properly going through it, just to allow his Promare to burn, his skin takes on a strange, pink hue almost like that of a first degree burn, and the less said about those fangs he sprouts, the better. (Though Kakusei Lio also grew his own set of chompers.)

The dark circles around Kray’s eyes also don’t sit right with me – while they’re almost definitely just there as a design choice to make him look more threatening and more unhinged – I can’t help but think back to the fact that the Promare often manifests itself in humans by rocketing out of their eyes and mouths. If we are to assume that this is the first time Kray has properly used his flames since his initial awakening, it could be that – out of a desperation to burn after being denied that for so long – his Promare once again attempted to sync up with him properly, to perhaps start anew. But of course, it’s too little too late, as Kray’s pent up flames ultimately do their host more harm than good; blistering his flesh, singeing the skin around his eyes and causing his whole body to swell up to the point where his epaulettes buckle and the metal insignia on his left breast splits apart. Whether his constant suppression of his own Promare has lead to the fire corrupting in some way or not, is a topic I’m hoping to touch on in a little more detail in the near future; because a few things could theoretically happen when you keep fire simmering away without release for a long period of time, and none of them bode well for Kray.

And I could understand such over the top measures on Kray’s part; like the freezing tech in his uniform, if his Promare were completely out of control, or corrupted in some way. Lio, Gueira, Meis and the rest of the Burnish in the film all appear to have a degree of control over when and where they use their flames. The Promare want to burn hotter and brighter, the Burnish hear them and as a result they fulfil their wishes, but – far from simply spewing out fire all of the time – the Burnish decide when and where to use their flames, often calling upon them to aid them in battle. After seeing the film through multiple times and watching how most of the Burnish use their powers, I certainly wouldn’t call them “controlled by the Promare” as Kray describes it. There’s an understanding between a Burnish and their flames, there is – certainly in Lio’s case – a trust and almost a love, but if Kray’s awakening was so botched, it’s possible that he may not be able to hear the Promare as well as the rest of the Burnish, and therefore he might not actually know how to get it to stop. 

From his big reveal right up until Lio and Galo go off to save the world (with love!) he’s burning constantly. His hair is ablaze, his prosthetic is repeatedly warped into various shapes and sizes with the heat of the flames, it’s around his eyes, it’s there simmering away beneath his skin, still resolutely kept cooped up by the remaining cooling tech in his uniform. The uniform that – despite the various scraps and fights he gets himself into – stays stubbornly and completely in tact throughout all of his time on screen, in tact and doggedly doing its job of keeping those devastating flames at bay, even when its wearer is actively using them. The Burnish themselves may not be controlled by the Promare – but to an extent – Kray just might be. It’s only after he’s brought back to reality with a bang that it finally stops, and when it does stop, the disgraced Governor is incredibly subdued. Once the Promare leave, we see a very, very different character to the one we’ve seen throughout the film, even his faux charm and charisma as the beloved authority figure is gone, everything about him in those final scenes is muted and dulled.

I will say that isn’t just him, the very last scenes of the film use a slightly less saturated colour palette for everyone, but Kray takes looking pitiful to a whole other level. Now a far cry from the bright, in your face colours he had just minutes before, at the very end of the film, he looks nothing short of drained. If you’ve ever seen the gorgeously animated ‘Firebird’ short from Disney’s ‘Fantasia’ you’ll probably know where I’m going with this, the animation there puts me in mind of what we’re seeing here; the man truly does look like he’s about to be swept away, carried off on the wind like ash. He’s burnt out, a Burnout Burnish who refused to let his flames burn – so they burnt him up instead – and whether there are other Burnish in the world who took resisting their powers to the same extremes as he did, I doubt we’ll ever know. Though there does certainly seem to be a link between a person’s mindset and how well they’re able to control their flames, and yes – Thyma could certainly be a candidate for this.

On a final note; as I write, I’m thinking back to something Professor Deus Prometh was quoted as saying right at the start of the film: “The oppression of the Burnish may lead to concurrent blazes worldwide.” 

In other words, the longer you keep it down, the longer you resist, the longer the destruction will continue and the bigger and more serious the consequences will be. This is most likely in reference to the magma at the centre of the Earth slowly growing hotter in response to the oppression of the Burnish, but it can absolutely be applied to Kray’s Burnish awakening too. Perhaps if he had listened to the late Professor, things may have turned out a little better for him, he still would have become a burnish, yes, but his flames would’ve been untainted, perhaps he’d still have his arm, and perhaps he wouldn’t have come as totally undone as he did at the end of the film.

But, even with Trigger’s messy timeline, it’s safe to assume that Kray was a child when the Great World Blaze first swept across the earth, and when half of the population was wiped out. And as uncomfortable as this may be to acknowledge, it’s quite hard for me to imagine someone who witnessed that level of destruction at such a young age, being particularly happy about then being advised against resisting should they ever feel a Burnish spasm. That they should just give in to it, let it sync, let themselves become one with the Promare.

Let it burn.

[alphabetboyluvr]

bad decisions | jjk - three

You hum a little in confusion, taking a sip of your americano. Tastes like shit. "Jungkook?" "Yeah, Jungkook." Hoseok grunts. "Jeon? Ring any bells?" Oh, how you wish it didn't. You also wish you never made coffee, but hey, bad things come in threes, right? An awkward encounter, a mind-splitting headache, and now a terrible cup of coffee. Three. No more bad things. Except you're forgetting the fact you also had a shit shag, so the quota of three had already been met. Your coffee's just started the cycle all over again. One down, two to go.

Bad Decision #3 - Coffee

warnings: hangovers, language

soundtrack: leave (get out) - jojo, coffee - bts, hangover - woosung

wc: 2k

bd total wc: 370k (on-going)

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

"No you don't understand, I'm actually dead," Hoseok groans into the staff room fridge, where his head is currently resting on an empty shelf. His eyes are closed, and he's been in there so long that the fridge door light has cut out. 

He's not been in the fridge since last summer's heatwave, so you know his hangover really must be as bad as he's making it out to be.

"Stop," you lightly scold him, shooing him away so you can grab the vitamin drink you'd put in there at the start of your shift. You swear by it as your favourite hangover cure, and in fact, it's your second of the day. Something about the ache in your head just won't budge. "You'll let the cold out, Hobes."

"Good," he huffs. "It's a sauna in here." 

It's spring, and summer is yet to fully ripen. There are far hotter days to come, but Hoseok's body is trying to flush the alcohol from his system in the easiest way possible: sweat.

"Whatever was in those little purple shots was lethal," he whines, slumping down onto the single chair in the kitchen. It's cramped, and really not big enough for two people—windowless, but at least there's a vent. 

It doesn't really matter what the staff room is like. You rarely spend any time there; always front of house instead.

For the past two years following graduation, you've been working at Pot & Paint - a painting cafe downtown, where people paint canvases while enjoying a fresh brew. 

Time passes by slowly within the four walls, but peacefully. The fumes get you a little lightheaded sometimes, but for the most part it's a dream of a job. Easy money. Hoseok had taken you under his wing in your first week, and had been stuck to you like dried acrylic ever since.

Days are relatively similar, and yet always different thanks to the customers. You have your set jobs - make coffee, clean brushes, fill water trays - but it's seeing what the customers create that really makes the job so much fun. 

You and Hoseok place bets on which half of the couple will be the better artist, on colour combinations, whatever you can think of. Neither of you ever win anything of much value ("Drinks on me", "I'll make you a coffee", "I'll empty the bins") but it's a way to pass the time, nonetheless.

You rank the best to worst of the day's paintings, but only ever out of earshot of customers. At the till, you will always smile and enthuse over their creation. What's important, you think, is that they're creating at all. To diminish someone's endeavours in such a public manner would be cruel. Art is subjective, after all.

What is objective, however, is how fucked up you both managed to get thanks to Purple Starfuckers. The bartender really hadn't been kidding when he said they were delicious. 

"Amaretto..." you begin to list, but trail off, for the fact you don't have a clue. Can barely remember how you even came across such a delicacy.

Mortifyingly, though, the events in Jimin's apartment are mostly crystal clear. The sex? Meh. A bit iffy. Not much to write home about.

The disruption you caused, only to summon a topless bartender?

Yeah, a lot more to write home about, but also far more cringe than you can bear to deal with when your head is so tender. 

Hoseok is none the wiser.

He'd crashed at your place and had been woken to a very grumbly rendition of Jojo's Leave (Get Out) when you found him passed out on top of your bed.

Naturally, he'd refused, and so you'd climbed beneath the duvet, Hoseok still on top, dead to the world until Danbi came through a couple of hours later wrapped up in a blanket of her own.

"Tried calling you," she'd groaned, flopping down onto your bed. "Wanted to order breakfast but apparently neither of you seem to know how to answer a bloody phone."

"Mine's dead," Hoseok had mumbled beneath a pile of pillows. He'd migrated to below your duvet by this point, the pair of you still in last night's clothes. 

You hadn't even showered—the whole reason you'd excused yourself from Jimin's. 

But maybe it was a lie, after all. Maybe you didn't really care about making yourself decent. Maybe sharing a bed with him would have just felt too similar to sharing a bed with your ex. You weren't ready for intimacy, no matter how meaningless.

The beauty of Hoseok was that he'd kicked you fourteen times within thirty minutes. You couldn't fool yourself into thinking there was anything intimate about it.

You'd fumbled around, hunting under your pillow for your phone and almost thought you'd found it. Was about to pull it out when you realised it wasn't your phone at all. Thanked your lucky stars. Would have had no choice but to simply die if you'd started waving a vibrator around in front of Hoseok.

Still, no phone, though. Your clutch was in the kitchen, by the front door, so you assumed it must be in there.

Not checking until after you'd consumed your body weight in hangover waffles, you were confused to not be able to find it anywhere. Your clutch, your bra, your bed, the kitchen, the bathroom; you'd checked them all and yet it was still nowhere to be found. 

"You get a cab home? Might have left it in the taxi?" Danbi had suggested, which was entirely plausible. 

"Maybe," you hummed with a small pout. "I'll call them later."

Later came, and later went - still no phone. The taxi company hadn't had one handed in, which left only one location it could be—one you really hadn't ever planned on returning to:

Jimin's place.

"I don't even know his name!" You cringe when Hoseok asks you about it a little while later.  "Well, no. I know his given name, but fuck knows his family name. Wouldn't be able to find him even if I had tried."

It's not the paint fumes making you feel lightheaded today, but the roasting coffee beans. The idea of drinking it makes you feel like you're gonna hurl, but you know your body will probably thank you for it later.

"And you're sure he was called Jimin?" He asks, staring down at his phone. He's crouched behind the front counter, not willing to deal with customers but knowing he needs to be semi-present in case the boss pops by. "Sure he wasn't called Jungkook?"

You hum a little in confusion, taking a sip of your americano. Tastes like shit. "Jungkook?"

"Yeah, Jungkook." Hoseok grunts. "Jeon? Ring any bells?"

Oh, how you wish it didn't. You also wish you never made coffee, but hey, bad things come in threes, right? An awkward encounter, a mind-splitting headache, and now a terrible cup of coffee. No more bad things.

Except you're forgetting the fact you also had a shit shag, so the quota of three had already been met. Your coffee's just started the cycle all over again. One down, two to go.

"Er, I think so?" You shrug, playing things so cool that Hoseok notices your change in demeanour. There's a smirk on his lips as he glances up towards you. 

"He messaged me. He's asking after you."

It's at this point that you think your hangover will catch up with you, and you'll actually be sick. Right on the counter, maybe. There's a sink behind you, but you're already mortified so what would the harm be?

"Let me see him," you say almost instantly, pushing away vomit inducing thoughts. You just want to check. Make sure it is him, and not some weird coincidence. 

Hoseok passes you his phone, and there he is: Mr Purple Starfucker himself. 

His Instagram is sparse in recent updates, but there's enough of a back catalogue to clue you in on an idea of 'him'.

Beach pictures, sunset pictures, the kind of generic shit everyone likes, but there's something about the way he captures such scenes. Makes them infinitely more breathtaking, you think.

The gym selfies? Yeah. Leave you a little breathless, too. That's neither here, nor there, though. You'll blame it on the hangover.

"Yeah, yeah, guy from the bar," you reply all nonchalantly, before clicking back into Hoseok's messages.

JustJK: Hey - I work at Dionysus. Think your friend left her phone there. Just let her know I have it and for her to get in contact with me if she wants to come by and get it.

Hoseok thinks nothing of it as you begin typing back - trusts you not to be doing anything untoward. Also is dying too much to care.

seokshine: hii!! sorry it's me (the friend lol), hobi just gave me his phone!!

JustJK: Disco Ball?

seokshine: disco...ball????

JustJK: You were dressed like a Disco Ball.

seokshine: thank you?

JustJK: You're welcome.

JustJK: I have your phone.

seokshine: life saverrr, thank you so much <;33

JustJK: I'm at work tonight so you can swing by the club. If not I'll be at the gym this evening? I go to one downtown so it's easy to get to. Just let me know and I'll make sure I have it on me.

The idea of going anywhere near alcohol given your current state repulses you - but equally, so does the idea of going to a gym.

The only plus side would be that you'd maybe get to see his a-

No, no, no, you mentally reprimand yourself, and cover the thoughts of his torso with mental images of Jimin—sexy, charming, average shagger Jimin—because he's the one you hooked up with. 

You'd just been reeling from the sex when you'd seen Jungkook last night. Easy to let the hormones take over—but he'd been shirtless and—fuck—his tattoos had been so intricately carved into his skin that all you wanted to do was study them and—

Get a grip, girl.

"So?" Hoseok asks.

"So he has my phone. Left it at the club," you lie. "Says I can either get it from the club tonight or he can take it with him to the gym. My choice."

"So... watcha gonna do?" Hosoek asks, none the wiser of the mental hoops you've been jumping through from such a simple decision. Not like it's life or death. It's gonna be mortifying regardless, having to do a second walk of shame in front of Jungkook.

And so you sigh, and type through a message back to him.

It won't be long, you figure. You won't have to stay. Just get in, get your phone, get out. Never see him again. 

Cool,��Jungkook replies. See you then. 

When you hand your phone back to Hoseok, he raises a brow. "Really? This is the decision you made?"

And unfortunately, all you can do is say 'yes', before you excuse yourself to the bathroom so you can hurl in peace.

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

[ahordeofwasps]

Find the Word Tag

I've been tagged by the awesome @deanwax! Thanks for the tag! My words are dress, red, book, even, and odd. I'll be sharing excerpts from To Not Falling Off Cliffs!

But first, the no pressure tags! I'll be tagging @sarandipitywrites, @winterandwords, @mary-is-writing, @emelkae, and open tag! Your words are fire, flail, free, and follow!

Now, onto To Not Falling Off Cliffs!

Dress & Odd

On the other side there were two humanoids. One was a woman, and the other was a man. They had clean flawless skin. Their hair was neatly combed without a single strand out of place. The woman wore a white dress while the man wore a black turtleneck and black slacks. They both smiled as they each held a small stack of pamphlets. They both looked almost human. Almost. Their teeth, although perfectly white and straight, looked a little too sharp. Their eyes weren’t vacant, but there was an emptiness behind their stares, the kind that demanded to be filled. They were [unintelligible]. [unintelligible] usually didn’t go door to door. [unintelligible] usually found their prey in crowds, in those that walked a little too slowly as if they were lost. Some [unintelligible] hunted on the internet, using social media to find those set adrift in their life, looking for someone or something to grab a hold of. [unintelligible] were impersonal, though they did strive to make their prey feel special. [unintelligible] preferred odds set in their favour, usually working one to one only when their hooks were in their prey.

Red & Even

There were small occasions where Erika lingered truthfully, however. She stopped in the aisle with the shampoo, taking the time she normally spent pretending to read the ingredients in each bottle. Recently, Erika had noticed that her hair was turning red and was starting to become dry and chitinous. Although she liked the unexpected colour change, she disliked how she looked with a head full of chitin instead of hair. When Erika had examined her shampoo and conditioner, she discovered her shampoo was enchanted to give her the “dazzling hair of the future.” Erika did not want the hair of the future. She wanted the hair of the present. Obtaining the hair of the present proved to be difficult. Half the shampoo brands had the “hair of the future” enchantment, making Erika wonder why she hadn’t seen anyone else with chitinous hair. Of those without the enchantment, one brand had caused the death of one of Steve’s clients, two brands were currently in the midst of lawsuits due to giving their customers alchemical burns, one shampoo’s only ingredient was one whole coconut, and the rest weren’t sulphate free. Erika sighed, rubbing her temples, feeling her headache returning. What should have been simple hygiene was quickly turning into a losing battle. Erika could at least choose how badly she lost that battle. She picked up one of the shampoos with sulphates; it would make her already dry hair even drier, but at least she would be free of the chitin.

Book

At first glance, the apartment looked the same as it was when Erika last visited. There was still a bucket of crystals on the end table next to a stack of unopened cardboard boxes with facial cleansers targeted towards teens. The blue macrofibre dusting cloth was still left forgotten on the bookshelf next to a series of volumes on pigeon breeding. Beer cozies with various energy drink logos printed on them nestled mason jars filled with origami flowers were scattered about every available flat surface. Next to where Erika sat was a potted plant sitting on a cardboard box that once contained meal replacement shakes. But, as Erika examined the room further, she spotted new items among the clutter. A small box of make-up was in the bucket of crystals. A bar of soap that looked like a cupcake sat on the bookshelf, still in its original packaging. The paper petals of the origami flowers look like they were wet, and the room reeked of peppermint, with the stench being strongest next to the origami flowers. There was a plastic depiction of a zombified cat having a tea party with a ceramic frog in the soil of the potted plant.

[fox-daddy]

1 am ramblings;

The body of the fool and half the heart of a magician (au? An mc story? Both?)

This is an idea I've had ever since I started playing Asra's route back in 2019 however have only spent more time messing with it recently. Looking at scenes from Asra and Nadia's route it has been messing with my mind once again. What else am I supposed to do at 1am? Sleep?

I'm dubbing it an au because I don't think it's really what happened but I like to pretend it is for Kyle my main MC purely as extra spice. You're more than welcome to use it for your MC since it doesn't really effect MC's past at all. So let's start at the beginning with MC dead and the ritual in full swing.

The way the devil wanted it to go is the fool had agreed to give their body up to a human for the chance of a new beginning, feeding into their major arcana as the fool. So the devil would give Lucio the body of the fool, fully expecting the fool to overpower him and gain a free human form while he could control the materal world. Merging it and the arcanic realms and ruling over it. His fool plan. To give the arcana more power.

However, the fool being sneaky never said which human they would give their body to. Having a plan with the magician set up behind the devil's back. Not only for a way for the magician to help Asra but also the fool.

During the ritual the magician said they knew how to bring MC back for half Asra's heart but was only telling Asra half the truth. They couldn't but they knew who could. Since one cannot offer someone else's soul without permission as seen in reversed Nadia's ending. So it's easy to assume this also works with someone else's body. Both belong to someone else after all, you can't offer something you don't own.

While they were making the deal with Asra the fool slipped away finding MC between the border of life and death being freshly killed their spirit was still left. So the fool made a deal with MC.

They would bring MC back by giving MC their body and magic in return for being able to live inside MC. This means being able to see, feel, taste everything MC does. To feel the deepest sadness to the strongest love. Something a major arcana like them could never understand. But something the fool wanted to understand.

Before I go on why doesn't MC have a mark?

Simple, they do! But unlike Asra, Nadia, Julian the mark is the magic itself. The mark of the deal is the fools magic their own aura is the mark. If you go off the chakra idea Mc's mark is above their head, not physically on their body. So looking for it on their body is never going to work. Because the mark manifested as their aura of infinite colours.

Why does the fool need half Asra's heart? Simply put it if the fool used their heart it would overwhelm Mc immediately causing the fool to take control over the body. Since the fool's deal is to being Mc back their bound by their own chains causing the body to go catatonic as the fool has no power to control Mc. They didn't agree for the fool to come back after all.

The solution is to use half Asra's heart to keep Mc grounded enough to not be immediately overwhelmed by the fools magic and body, to use Asra as an anchor. As Mc grows a stronger foundation of who they are they can tap into this power more and regain more memories without relying on Asra as an anchor as much.

The headaches being a warning their not ready yet, like how a magician gets weak if they start using too much magic. If they push it too far they start to lose themselves to the fool. Their body taking on that of the fool as they lose the ability to function due to the fools deal. Making Mc unable to recognize their own hands because they no longer look like their hands.

So in this au the pomegranate juice only helped break Lucio's deal not fully break it like Asra thinks. However the devil makes up for this by tricking Mc into leaving their body letting Lucio have it, filling his part and then just needing Lucio to full his part the requirement of his blood. The pomegranate wasn't what truly broke the ritual and the magician knows this. Having this to say when Mc wonders if the same trick would work again.

So where is the fools heart? In the middle of their realm. To keep the fools heart safe only two people have access to the fools realm. The fool and scout.

So quick question who the f is scout? Well like the lovers theirs two bodies on the fools card. The fool and their dog warning them of danger.

Scout is the fool just as much as Mc is. Which is how the realm didnt fall apart with the absence of the fool, because it still had a fool to rule over it.

This au also says we get a glance at the fools realm early on in Asra's route in a paid scene. When Mc and Asra explore his oasis an oasis designed to be able to connect to anywhere in the arcanic realms as a reminder.

It's never rained in Asra's oasis. They don't say 'this hasn't happened in years' but 'that's never happened before' I doubt Asra never took Mc into their gate before the plague with them both being powerful magicians.

That is the entrance to the fools domain in this au. If Asra and Mc climbed down they would enter the fools domain leaving Asra's oasis where it never rains.

Why does it show itself? With Mc in the arcanic realms it senses the fools magic, it can sense Mc and since Mc isn't focused on going to a major arcana like the magician or the high priestess and at this point Mc isn’t fighting something like the tower it reveals itself to them.

But hey that's just a theory, A GAME THEORY!

Jokes aside what do you think of this au? I tend to keep au's as close to cannon as I can. Even if the au itself is self indulgent.

[faun-the-hound]

Dante + Garroth sketches as well. Ignore the fuckass Kiki + Thorgi, that was an experiment that did not go well.

Dante first:

He's got a few Magi traits from his dad, a siren who remains unnamed for now- pointed ears, sharp (vertical) pupils, and webbed hands. He tries to hide these, however, out of fear of what happened to Gene happening to him.

It was Dante who got his brother killed, letting it slip to the Lord's daughter, someone he thought was his friend, that Gene was using his mind-memory-manipulation to steal to keep them and their sick mother fed. He was just venting, he didn't think about what he was saying, or how much the town despised Magick and magi in general. He thought he could trust her.

He ran away the night of Gene's burning, leaving his mother and brother behind. He assumes they're both dead by now, it's been a few years, so it stands to reason. He doesn't know that Gene is a Shadow Knight, or that he killed their mother to gain his immortality and burned their hometown to ashes.

The diamond on his cloak is a communication amulet, the other half of which was Gene's, and is currently sitting at the bottom of a lava lake in Erebos/the Nether.

He uses hair to cover his eyes, cloak to cover his ears, and he cuts the webbing on his hands to wear gloves, just to avoid getting found out as not human. The webbing heals and comes back every other season, and he stops cutting it after joining Phoenix Drop.

He is slightly hard of hearing, and gets frequent headaches, using his own Magick to relieve them. His Magick is hydrokinesis and healing (both from his siren father), using water to mend small cuts and burns, and relieve pain (like a weaker Katara from Avatar) though he isn't great at it.

He's sixteen years old when he meets Avira/Aphmau, a couple years younger than Brian (the youngest adult in PD), a scrawny fella and suffering deeply from the guilt of killing his big brother and recurring nightmares (lack of sleep doesn't help his headaches either)

Post-time-skip, he's a lot more buff, he's filled out a lot more and has a few more scars. He has his webbed fingers back fully, and trims his hair back, no longer afraid to show who he really is. ----------

Garroth now:

I have less head canons about him. The main one being- he never brushes his hair. It is a tangled, matted rat's net under that helmet. Simply because he genuinely doesn't know how to care for it, he had maids and servants to wash, dry and style his hair, and he's really let it grow out recently, he could barely handle it short, what's he meant to do here? (Avira eventually gets her hands on him and fixes it, but good Matron, man, get a haircut at the very least)

He grew his hair out for three reasons- one, all men of the Ro'meave family are supposed to have short hair, and two, he looks a lot less like Garte with it long. He often purposefully got injured on his face during training, hoping for scars, bruises, breaks and anything else that would make him look less like Garte- less like a neat and tidy Ro'meave.

Third- to braid it. It's tradition on the east side of Ru'aun for the bereaved to tie braids into their hair, tying them off with coloured ribbons to represent the loved one they lost. Garroth heard this, and his mind jumped immediately to Vylad. His baby sibling. He always partially blamed himself for Vylad disappearing, he helped with the ritual after all, and he never had the time to grieve or say goodbye. So, he keeps an emerald green ribbon tied into a small braid, for the sibling he lost.

His armour is really basic- like the most basic of the basic trainee armour from the Guard Academy. A chainmail shirt, breastplate, arm and leg guards, and a longsword. His shield and cape both came from Phoenix Drop, and the Matron's crest on his chest/collar area is a lucky charm, a brooch his mother had made for him his first day at the Academy.

His helmet is also really basic, essentially a bucket with T-shape in the front to see out of. It's awful, uncomfortable, sweaty, stuffy and unbearably hot, but he never takes it off, and he tries (and usually fails) to get Zenix to do the same. He prides himself on his armour, polishes it almost religiously, and prays over his sword and shield every night to always guide him true in battle and protect those around him whom he cares so deeply for.

The last note on the page is his eyes- his pupils are white. Esmund had the Relic of Pride when he had his children, the ancestors of the Ro'meave family, thus leaving a faint trace of residual Divine Magick in their bloodline. This Magick isn't usable without the Relic, so the only side effect is their pupils being white, giving an illusion of glowing eyes in the dark.

Post-time-skip, when he comes back, he stops wearing his braid for Vylad, keeping the ribbon around his pinkish finger like a ring instead, an unspoken promise to keep his remaining family (Avira, Levin, Malachi and Zane at this point) safe. ----------

Kiki and Thorgi are there because I wanted to try drawing them. I head canon that Thorgi was Kiki's dog before Aph/Avi got to the village, and then Thorgi started following her around, drawn in by the Magick that sticks to her.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Familiar Faces - Accepting and researching past lives, Part 1

Summary: Elijah Gilbert has been haunted by dreams of other lives as long as he remembers, but now with the appearance of the Salvatore brother he may finally get some answers.

AN. note to self 'better time management', finish today's chapter before working on tiny Sailor mars costume. also picking a title is hard.

-----

Three days.

His episode lasted two days, it was the worst one he had had in years, a reminder of why he was very sure they would end him one day, how they had in the past.

He had spent another day pretty much bed bound to prevent any injuries from falling as the shock of it had left him shaky and unsteady, one broken collar bone was enough for him to learn not to push himself. 

In the aftermath Aunt Jenna had started hovering in the way mom and dad used to in his earliest memories.

It was easy to explain why it was so bad, at least, five months without one had caused it to hit him in surprise, leaving him twice as tired afterwards.

He had spent the last night, while free of the headache still trying to shake off the chill once again thankful his room was soundproofed as with Aunt Jenna out with the slimeball, Jeremy had arranged for Stefan to make Elena a dinner while he was with Vicki upstairs.

That wasn’t a helpful reminder of how he failed to live up to normal surrounded by his family doing just that.

---

The next morning he couldn't help but glare at his hand as it shook holding his mug.

Kit was eating her extra breakfast on the floor, since she had skipped most her meals while he was out of it, while Luci was rubbing his head against his chest purring loud enough it filled the kitchen.

He had offered to put him away if the noise bothered Aunt Jenna where she was working at the counter, but she had just told him she was glad the little hellspawn was trying to help.

Elijah had his missed school work spread over the table, school had always seemed easy, languages and history came to him with ease and he had spent most of the aftermaths from his early episodes reading his parent’s medical books.

Most of his work was spent trying to hide how easy it was, placing simple mistakes and larger errors, things he had been doing since the first time there was talk of him skipping a grade. 

“You can go back to school tomorrow.” Aunt Jenna told him as she noticed his glare, he looked up to smile until she continued “although considering your making mistakes on purpose, do you really need it?”

“What?” he asked, embarrassed to find his voice cracking, “what are you talking about?”

“I’ve always known you were gifted, your mum and dad couldn’t stop bragging the first time they were asked if they wanted to skip a grade,” she told him fondness and pain at the mention of his parents but her eyes were sharp when they met his “but i’ve been watching, today, you fill out your work quickly and easily without looking at the notes for them then go back to add mistakes.”

“I didn’t want to be split up from Elena.” he offered the excused before she could ask, however she was persistence

“Now you don’t share any classes with her.” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s what people my age do, I want to be normal.” he shrugged.

“Where do you think you should be, for the work to challenge you?” she asked

“I don’t-” he started, a mild panic he hadn’t felt since the first time he had overheard the teacher telling his parents he would be better off in the year ahead.

“I’m not going to push you, I'm just curious.” she smiled to reassure him, he thought for a moment.

“University.” He admitted, “I read ahead and the rest of the high school syllabus isn’t any more difficult than this.” he nodded to the work in front of him.

“And you're fine doing easy work for the next year and a half.” she asked, slight concern colouring her words “not bored out of your mind.”

“I’ve been doing it for years,” he said smiling back at her as he felt himself relax, “why quit so close to the end, this way i can stay with Elena and the others, i won’t end up being looked at as the youngest in every class and it’s not completely boring, i enjoy seeing just what it takes for the teachers to start noticing.”

“I guess I don't need to worry about you falling behind.” she laughed a little to herself, he felt his smile fade as he noticed her relax as well.

“I’m sorry that I gave you enough to worry about.” he apologised 

“It’s fine,” she promised, “Elijah you aren’t to blame for your health, things just happen.”

His parents had said the same things, doesn’t mean he didn’t haunt him that the last time he had seen them they were worried, that if he hadn’t had an episode he would have been at the party, could have stopped the argument between Elena and Matt or distracted her so she wouldn’t have needed to call them.

He took a deep breath as he felt a heavyweight return to his heart and turns back to his school work. 

“Hey, what do you plan to do after school?” she asked not long after, he blinked, “as a career.”

“Medical, I want to help people, like dad.” The words came out quickly, he looked back down at his school work to avoid seeing aunt Jenna’s reaction, everyone had always told him he took after his mom more, but he had idealised his dad.

It was something he had wanted since he first learned what dad had done. Over the years he shifted into psychology, if only to understand his own issues and cover them more.

But it was still true, he wanted to help people, and he could do the work, he just had to live past twenty, which his dreams had made clear may be harder than it seemed.

He looked up at the sound of a sniff, and watched with wide eyes as she got up from her work, made her way to him and wrapped him in a hug.

She was warm and it chased away the last of the chill.

“You’re a great kid and they would have been so proud to see you-” whatever else she was going to say was lost as her voice broke and he hugged back, they stayed like that for a moment before she let go and went back to her research.

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, until Elena came down and the pair left for the car wash, leaving him alone downstairs and Jeremy upstairs with Vicki.

He sat in the silence for a moment after he finished and packed away his work before making a decision. 

He wanted a future and he needed to know his past before he could truly work for that.

He couldn’t keep denying it. 

Pretended it wasn’t real hadn’t got him anywhere, this life or the ones before.

He was a Salvatore once, likely twice, he needed to see if it was more than those times, find evidence of the other lives and maybe find the cause of why he remembered them and even why he had these episodes. 

To stop them, to stop worrying his family.

Hopefully they were all at the car wash and he could break in or at least Stefan and Damon would be out and he just has to deal with Zach.

He had had years to work dealing with his cousin, he at least didn’t look exactly the way he did in his memories.

His memories of the last time he had Zach were when he was a teen.

---

“Hi Zach.” Elijah greets as soon as the man opens the door, his bookbag heavy with all his notes of his dream selves, or past selves.

“Elijah, what are you doing here?” the man asks, looking around in concern.

“I want to see your records.” he replied with a disarming smile eyeing the way Zach hand still gripped the door, clearly wanting to shut it.

“Why?” Zach again asked this time casting a worried look back into the house, 

“Extra credit family report,” he lied obviously and used Zach’s confusion to slip past the man and into the house.

“Look i’m sorry Elijah but now isn’t the-” Zach started as he caught up to Elijah in the house after shutting the door.

“It’s fine, it's not like I need you to show me around, right Z?” he smirked, almost begging the man to reveal something, it would be a lot easier on Elijah if someone else already had an idea of what was wrong with him.

“What do you want?” Zach sighed,

“Answers.” he told the man, when Zach didn’t moved just looking at Elijah with an unreadable expression, he nodded and walked away from him towards the library “I’ll find them myself.” he called back.

----

It wasn’t until he got to the library and stared at the collection of books that he realised he was searching for a needle in a haystack, still he quickly made his way to the section he remember where the families journals were kept, and instead of looking for the ones from over a century ago, he looked for the ones just over thirty years before, he found what or whose he was looking for.

His uncle-Zach’s father’s journal, first he had to find the right year, then he began

searching though the dates for the time around his last birth, hoping to find something that could be linked to witchcraft or some kind of supernatural event.

What he did find was that the man he thought was his father in his last life died about ten months before his birth.

He remembered the date, as he served Mr de Martel drinks as he had a guest that stared at him with the same fascination Mr de Martel did.

‘Surely one night can’t hurt, Tristan.’ Mr Castle laughed.

He skipped ahead to his birth to find the answers he hadn’t even been looking for.

The baby was born too late to be my brother’s, it’s likely he’s the result of our poorly thought out moment of grief.

“I’m a bastard.” Elijah muttered to himself, he could feel a burst of bitter amusement that made him want to laugh, an inside joke that he wasn’t aware of the punchline.  “Why do I find that funny?”

He shook it off and continued, 

She named him after Giuseppe’s youngest son with his wife, she tells me it came to her in a dream. I can only hope he fares better than his namesake.

I won’t let my son be buried in an unmarked grave forgotten and unmourned. 

He ignored the grave comment as he did whenever his mind wandered to wonder what happened to his old bodies and focused on the piece before.

‘she tells me it came to her in a dream.’

Once Elena had asked where their names had come from, mom had told him the same.

‘It was a dream, sweetie.’

It seemed he wasn't the only one getting dreams.

He was adding that to his notebook when he heard a scream and footsteps and decided to follow it.

He left the library and made it in time to see Caroline vanish out the door, running like she expected something to be chasing her.

Elijah remembers that panic and fear so well he could almost smell it, Tatia- NO!

Instead the house was almost silent, until he caught the sound of faint muttering and followed it downstairs to the door that led to the cellar.

He froze at the door.

EJ, before he was EJ, when he was little Elijah the orphan raised by his uncle, used to be too scared to go down, would plead for Zach to hold his hand.

Elijah took a breath and forced himself to move, EJ was a life ago, Elijah was different. Beside as he made out one of the voices Zach was already down there.

---

(AN-Zach throughout the entire talk with Elijah praying Stefan would return and remove Elijah and hyper aware that Damon is staving downstairs, so he doesn't really get to take what Elijah's saying in.)

[samcybercat]

Find the word

Tagged by @vcaudley Rules: Find 5 words in your WIP and post snippets. Mine were: grave, midnight, gasp, teeth, momentous Yours are: sigh, hope, later, end, watch I tag @vcaudley (no rule about no tagbacks lol) @101flavoursofweird @pandirpus @krokonoko My snippets:

Grave: Dionysus gestures around to the shades, even if these deceased mortals are outside of his influence. “They wake up the next day with a killer headache and sometimes even resent enjoying themselves the night before. As time goes on, I've noticed that the mortals work themselves harder and harder, with less time to relax. But chilling out is important, man! I don't want them to stop enjoying themselves because they're worrying about the state they'll be in the next morning. They'll work themselves into early graves that way.” -From “god of coffee” Midnight (I didn’t have, so I used “night” instead, which I had plenty for): A content sigh escapes Ariadne as they part and she looks up at him with lidded eyes and a sultry expression that he’s longed to see for all the nights that they’ve been apart. - From “bisexual man worships his wife (a goddess) Gasp: “Wow!” Dionysus gasps, stars in his eyes. -From the same fic as above Teeth: “Hmm, looks like someone doesn’t know about the ‘no fighting in the house’ rule,” teases Zagreus, “That’s the reason Alecto and Tisiphone got banned, you know? And I’m sure Father would hate to have an excuse for you to never come back here and flap your ghostly gums at him again.” There’s something so very satisfying about being able to pull one over on Theseus. In Elysium, Zagreus wouldn’t be able to get two words in before Theseus attempts to kill him, but down here, Theseus has little choice but to go along with what Hades dictates. Theseus grits his teeth, lowering his hand from his spear and continuing to walk away. “Leave me be! I have naught to say to you!” -From an untitled TheseZag WIP that I add to when I run out of inspitation for my other fics Momentous (I knew I didn’t have so I subbed for “moment”): It was autumn, so the leaves from the oak tree in their garden were littering the red stone drive and, honestly, the colours looked nice. I could stand there for a moment and pretend that maybe I could afford to live in a place like this, instead of travelling around giving talks to the elderly about how easy it is to switch to digital payment plans. Oh well… My fantasy was short-lived, however, as Jan and Dan opened the door before I’d even gotten half way up the drive. Clearly, they’d been expecting me. -From “Jan and Dan’s Dog”, one of the horror shorts I need to get back to one day

[bellafragolina]

Glad that you've liked it! I must say, I am always happy to provide some strange scenarios for you and your audience! And now, without further ado, I am presenting another strange scenario to you! Sit back, and enjoy, my lil' berries!

A Reader, who falls into Hisui… But they look almost exactly like someone. I'll take Cyllene, Ingo and our loveable Professor Laventon. Again, Reader looks exactly like them, just with some major/minor differences. I would say, that would be some "hoLY ARCEUS-" moment of their lives.

Cyllene is almost horrified by your resemblance, it's that scary! You have her frown, you have her hair cut, damn, you even often stand like her, with arms behind your back. However, your hair are not blue, they are slightly red, like your eyes. Your skin is a little darker, and last, but not least, you are slightly shorter than her. And the most major one difference she sees is when at one day she spots how you are spoiling your team. Your full of b u g s team. She sees how you apply potion on your Heracross's horn, how you feed your still Combee, how your A l p h a Kricketune rumbles happily at the pats, how both of your Yanmegas sit on your shoulders, and how your little Scorupi scuttles around your feet, begging for snacks with its beady eyes. Cyllene almost has a heart attack second time in her life. First, you look exactly like h e r, and then this! She definitely needs a break.

Laventon is straight up scared. At first, he wasn't able to see your face since, well..your head stuck in the sand. The first thing that he saw, besides your kicking body, was a bag full of various strange things that was now scattered around you. Various round stones were shining in the sun, as well as the crystals with strange drawings on them. While you struggle with the sand, he notices a White band in your hand, as well as your white coat, identical to his one. His Pokémon jump over to you, and then, you lift (finally) your head, meet his eyes, and…silence. Then, you both are screaming out of pure fear because you are basically staring at yourself! Yes, he sees some differences, like, your hair is poking out of your hat, you have green eyes instead of purple, and then you have three Pokémon at your feet: A little reptile-like one with a big jaw, green snakelike one with two stubby legs and, finally, cat-like Pokémon with big yellow eyes. He learns their names, however, only after a very long time. Hey, he needs to get used to your presence, cut him some slack!

Ingo is… Confused. When he meets you first time, he almost immediately forgets everything he wanted to say. He forgot that he needs to tell you that Kamado is waiting, he just…stares at you with some strange headache. You look familiar. Way familiar. Almost like him, if he will be honest, but he knows, you are not related to him. Instead of his frown, you have this gigantic, toothy grin taking almost half of your face. Your eyes have yellow colour, and your outfit shines like a sun with the same colour. It is almost mind-boggling to learn that you are extremely shy and quite socially awkward (You even talk in very short sentences), preferencing company of your Pokémon - specifically, a Goodra, strange one, he must say - without a shell; And your overly protective turtle with flippers that are capable of breaking someone bones, he is sure. And although he doesn't know who are you exactly… He will help you. And you said to him, that you will help him. Like a team. Why.. Why does it feel familiar?

He-he, there it is! Enjoy and have a good day/evening! If I'll have another strange scenario, I'll share it with you for sure ✨👀

-Dearly your reader, Victusordovitreus.

Omggggggg

That’s so fun!! Meeting either a descendant or some rando that happens to look like them!! Arceus has a sense of humor lmao!

Poor Cyllene. She’s curious but oh my god your team is nothing but bugs. She’s going to stand thirty feet away and shout any questions she has at you. No, don’t approach, she won’t either. She’s fine where she’s at.

And Laventon! He’s so scared lmao, but I imagine after that, it’s pure curiosity! Because obviously you’re also a professor! And you have your own starters!! What curious things!

Oooh, Hisuian variations of all the the startersssssssss hell yeahhh!!!

And and and Ingo!! Struggling the worse because he doesn’t know you yet he does?? He knows your smile, your manner of speaking, and being next to you makes his head hurt. So why?? You don’t know him, so who is it that you remind him of???

Ahhh you’ve done it again!! I like this very much!!! Please share all your scenarios I like them so much!!

~Renee

[mrspasser]

8. Partners

After the incident at the printing factory, things slowly return back to normal. As far as possible, anyway...

However, where Gavin took the physical hit, Nines took the emotional hit. He has no idea how to help the android with that, especially because Nines doesn’t say a word about it, no matter how much Gavin pries. There is a case of misconduct filed against his partner, with Internal Affairs investigating the thing. As far as Gavin knows they had one interview with Nines and when Gavin asked how it went, the answer was not even a full sentence: “Fine.” 

Cover made with fanart by @donlemefo​

After a week rest at home, Gavin returns to the job. He’s confined to his desk for now, with his arm still in a sling and under the constant watch of Nines.

“You should turn off your terminal,” the android suggests, no, instructs . He sits at his own desk, his watchful eyes trained on Gavin.

The detective scrunches up his nose. “I’m fine, Tin Can.”

“Do I have to list the signals that tell me you’re not?” Nines turns his chair a little so he can give Gavin his full attention. Or so he can easily get up to turn off Gavin’s terminal for himself.

The detective pushes the little button that switches the terminal’s screen off and rummages through his desk drawer in search of the bottle of painkillers. Nines being right - Gavin has a headache from looking at the screen for more than half an hour - doesn’t mean he has to acknowledge it verbally.

He gets up from his chair and walks off in search of something to occupy himself with during his mandatory ‘screen break’. He’s not really supposed to be back at work already, yet a week of sick leave had him crawling up the walls of his home. Fowler let him back into the bullpen, on the condition that his android partner would monitor his health closely. As if Nines needs an order from the captain to do that.

Gavin finds Tina on the other side of the bullpen and sits down on her desk without asking.

“I was working on those, asshole,” she grumbles, pulling at the corner of a manilla folder he is sitting on. “Now those reports have your ass print all over them!”

“Makes them more interesting to read,” Gavin smirks, though he does lift his lower half to allow Tina to pull the folder from underneath him.

“Mandatory break again?”

Gavin nods. “You up for a coffee break?”

She smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry, Gavin, I can’t. I took a break with you an hour ago already.”

“An hour and a half,” he corrects her. “Come on, Teens, I’m bored!”

“Some of us have work to do, you know,” she chides him lightly, pricking her finger in his thigh. “Go find something to do without computer screens or something.”

“Like what? Assort the coffee cups in the break room by size and colour? There is nothing to do here that doesn’t involve a screen.” He had already sorted through evidence, picked up some old case folders from the archive for who ever needed them and he was sick of the odd looks he got when he brought his co-workers a round of coffee. Okay, he never ever brought them coffee before, but he was bored. B. O. R. E. D. And whenever he looked at a computer screen for more than half an hour at a time he got a headache, thanks to his - slowly healing - concussion. So he had to find something else to do.

“I think Connor already did the coffee cup thing,” Tina answers with a chuckle. “I don’t know, Gav, alright? Maybe you should take off for the rest of the day? I know it sucks being at home and not being able to work, but it’s not like you are getting a lot done here either.”

“Excuse me? I’m making myself useful!” Actually, Gavin doubts his own words. His partner is picking up his slack, unintentionally showing him that an android could take over his job. It sets Gavin on edge, dredges up some old feelings.

“You know what? Fuck this. I’m going for a smoke.”

This whole ordeal has him smoking more than usual. A while after they started working together, Nines took it upon himself to make the detective quit smoking. Gavin put up a fight at first, yet the android was nothing if not persistent. He tried different methods, from telling Gavin off, to hiding his smokes, and eventually settled on the method of distraction. It took Gavin a while before he was on to that, he actually thought RK900 finally gave up on trying to make him quit at first. In the end, the one that gave up was him; it was not like he quit smoking all together, he just smoked a lot less on most days. Besides, if he wanted to keep up with the android in the field, he needed his lungs fully functional.

Nines finds him outside, two or three drags in. “Detective, are you coming? We’ve got a case.”

Gavin rolls his eyes and shakes his arm in the mitella. “Desk job, remember?” He had to stay behind earlier this week too, not being allowed to crime scenes in his current state.

“I know. That’s why I told the captain I would drop you off at home.”

It isn’t until they are in the automated car that Gavin notices that they are going towards the wrong part of the city. “Nines? Are you sure you put in the right address?”

The slow yellow cycle of his LED stops for a moment, Nines looking up from reviewing the case file or whatever it was he did inside his computer mind. “I am.”

“I thought you said you would drop me off?”

“I did. And I will.”

Gavin smirks. “But you’re taking me to the crime scene first.” He bumps Nines in the shoulder. “You lied to the captain!”

The android raises his eyebrow minutely. “I did no such thing. I told him I would visit the crime scene and that I would drop you off at home. I merely omitted mentioning in which order.”

Of course Nines doesn’t let Gavin out of his sight at the crime scene and he finds himself trailing behind the android in some sort of reversed early Anderson - Connor situation. But it is good to be out, to do something constructive in the field instead of reviewing evidence of cold cases until his head aches.

***

A couple of weeks go by like this. Whenever possible, Nines takes Gavin with him to crime scenes. Most of their cases involve homicides, with little to no danger of the killer still around to fire his gun at them. The detective can do his job there with minimal risks, injured or not. Gavin suspects Fowler knows what they’re doing, yet he’s allowing it thus far.

His headaches slowly go down, flickering screens are bothering him less and less. His shoulder is also on the mend; he still carries the sling with him, though he only uses it when he feels his arm get tired. He is close to being cleared for active duty again.

The FBI took over their case when it turned out the criminals they apprehended were part of a national organisation. He doesn’t particularly mourn about that, it was a shit case to begin with. Being fit again means that he can almost leave the unfortunate incident at the printing factory behind him. Apart from a couple of dreams in which he was falling - one time with Nines bursting into his bedroom because he yelled hard enough to rouse the android from his stasis in the other room - Gavin only has some physical trauma from that day. And that heals over time.

However, where Gavin took the physical hit, Nines took the emotional hit. He has no idea how to help the android with that, especially because Nines doesn’t say a word about it, no matter how much Gavin pries. There is a case of misconduct filed against his partner, with Internal Affairs investigating the thing. As far as Gavin knows they had one interview with Nines and when Gavin asked how it went, the answer was not even a full sentence: “Fine.” The thing is, his partner is anything but fine, even though Nines goes through the motions of the day like he always does. Everything looks fine, but it isn’t. It’s just a hunch, Gavin has no hard evidence. Nines is not talking about it, Connor also keeps his mouth shut, and Captain Fowler just sighs and says the IA cases are classified, even to him.

So he takes a page from his partner’s book and talks to Nines about anything but the case. Distraction works, right? An old recipe book Gavin got from his mom turns out to be a great distraction. It’s actually his grandma’s, with handwritten recipes that have the android almost vibrating out of his skin when he has the book in hand for the first time. Gavin worries for a second that the sheer amount of joy will break his partner.

Leaving the book out on the kitchen counter for Nines to find when he comes to visit Tiny turns out to be a good idea; Nines insists on trying every recipe in the book at least once. Gavin is not the only one to benefit from it; Tina gets invited for dinner every now and then and their other co-workers at the precinct also enjoy the fruits of Nines’ cooking and baking. Captain Fowler is even seen smuggling a second helping of the Triple Chocolate Buttermilk Bundt Cake to his office.

***

It happens when Gavin comes back from the doctor’s office with a clean bill of health. He wants to tell his partner that he is now legally allowed at crime scenes again, yet the android is nowhere to be found. So Gavin drops by Tina’s desk to tell her the good news, gets himself some coffee and turns on his terminal to check for messages. He has some standard emails and an alert for a shiny new case. The alert is an hour old, so it is safe to assume Nines has already seen it. He is probably already working on it. Somewhere.

< Gavin > Hey Tin Can. Where did you run off to?

Half an hour later the detective has reviewed the minimal information on the new case, yet there is still no response from his partner. That is odd.  

He looks around the bullpen for a sign of his partner. The tall android is nowhere to be seen. And now that he thinks about it, his brother is also absent and so is the lieutenant.

“Where the fuck did everybody go?” Gavin mutters to himself as he stands up from his chair. He really needs to go to the crime scene, the forensic crew is already present and if he wants to get a clear look he has to hurry up.

He sends Nines another message, with the address of the crime scene attached.

< Gavin > See you there.

Only he doesn’t see Nines there. Gavin is the only detective present at the crime scene, a marital dispute gone terribly wrong. The case itself is pretty straight forward, the evidence speaks for itself. The husband, the supposed killer, is absent, though Gavin is pretty sure his uniformed colleagues will find the man at one of the bars he is known to attend on an almost daily basis. He is not worried about this case. His partner who doesn’t respond to a multitude of messages, now, that’s another matter.

Back at the bullpen he sees Anderson sitting at his desk, working in concentration. Gavin books it across the room, almost skidding to a stop at the lieutenant’s desk. “Where is he?”

The older man doesn’t look up from his terminal. “Define he .”

“The Muffin Man, who else?!” Gavin impatiently drums his fingers on his crossed arms.

“He lives on Drury Lane, last time I checked.” Anderson finally looks up. “What do you want, Reed?”

The urge to pour coffee down Anderson’s horrendously loud shirt is hard to ignore, but Gavin manages. Barely. “Where is my partner?”

“How should I know? He is your partner,” the lieutenant taunts, before shrugging his shoulders and answering like a normal person. “He’s in DC, didn’t he tell you?”

“Excuse me?”

Anderson groans and rubs a hand across his beard, though his irritation seems to have little to do with the detective, for once. He mumbles something that sounds like ‘damned androids and their stunted emotions’, before he explains to Gavin that both Nines and Connor are in Washington DC for a hearing by Internal Affairs. “It’s the first time something like this happens to an android police officer, you know. Jericho stepped in too, it’s turning into a whole political mess.”

“Why the fuck do you know this and I don’t!?!” Gavin is ready to blow up and it is only because there is a sudden message from Connor on the lieutenant’s phone that he doesn’t haul the old geezer across the desk. He grabs the phone instead, looking at the message before it disappears.

< Connor > We’ve arrived in DC. Flight went well. Hearing is in two hours, so we’ll have time to check in at our hotel first.

Gavin tosses the phone back on the desk and grabs his own, quickly scrolling through his contacts until he’s at the P of ‘Plastic Prick’. He leaves an irritated lieutenant behind, making his way to the back door in big strides. He needs a smoke.

Connor picks up on the first ring, Gavin has not even crossed the bullpen fully. “Detective Reed, what can I do for you?”

“What the fuck are you doing in Washington? Is Nines with you?”

The silence is a second too long. “I think it’s best if you talk about this with Nines.”

“I would if he responded to my messages!”

“He says he’ll call you right away, detective.” Connor is calm, the exact opposite of Gavin.

The call gets disconnected and a moment later his phone rings, the display showing Nines’ name. Gavin angrily jabs at the green connect button. “What the fuck, Tin Can?! When did you plan on telling me?!”

“I’m sorry, detective. The hearing got rescheduled to an earlier date and I had to make arrangements at a very short notice.” The android sounds even more formal than usual, making him sound distant on top of the actual distance.

Gavin pauses with his hand on the door handle, two steps away from his usual smoking spot by the back door of the station. He clenches the phone by his ear, letting his head hang to take a deep breath. He is dangerously close to losing it and starting a full out screaming war, yet he knows that will not get him answers.

He takes another breath, and another. He is a little calmer when he pushes the door open and steps outside, automatically taking position with his back to the brick wall, his head leaned back. He starts talking with his eyes closed, asking the android why he didn’t tell him that the IA investigation was so much bigger than just a formality.

It’s not the first time he hears the android falter in his speech and he hates it all the more for what it means. “I… I don’t know, detective.”

“Bullshit. You do know.” Fucking hell, this is not a conversation he wants to have over the phone. “We’re partners, Nines. You’re supposed to tell me shit.”

The following silence tells him the android knows that too. Gavin sighs and rubs a hand across his face. “So what if you were a little rough with a suspect? I have the disciplinary record to back up the fact that it happens to everyone.”

“Not everybody shares your bad temper, detective,” Nines answers softly, not exactly disagreeing with him.

“Whatever, I’m just saying, we all make mistakes.”

“Androids don’t.”

And well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Nines broke the First Law of Robotics, he harmed someone. Granted, it was an android, but they are people now too. Gavin sighs again, he really should’ve paid more attention. He should have made Nines talk about it, not let him shoulder this alone.

“Are you okay? Is there something I can do?”

“I’m alright, detective. Thank you.” Nines doesn’t really sound alright and fuck if that doesn’t pull at Gavin’s heartstrings. However, he is here and the android is all the way over in the nation’s capital.

“Good thing Connor’s with you,” Gavin answers, trying to sound upbeat. “But, really, Nines, can I help?” I want to , I really want to. I’m the one that got you into this mess. If I hadn’t fucked up and got myself tossed over that railing, you wouldn’t have hurt that android.

“You could water my plant.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You could water my plant,” Nines repeats casually. “It has to be watered once a week and today is the day I usually do that. I just didn’t get to do it because…”

Because he had more important things on his mind.

“Sure,” Gavin agrees. “I can do that.” It’s not exactly the kind of help he has in mind - although he doesn’t know what kind of help he actually has in mind - but if he can help his partner by watering his plant, that’s what he’ll do.

“Great. I’ll send the security code to your phone. The watering can is in the kitchen, second cupboard to your ri -”

“I’ll find it,” Gavin interrupts him. Talking about such mundane things doesn’t seem quite right at the moment; although a deep, heartfelt conversation also isn’t on the spectrum. Not by phone. He clenches his jaw. “Good luck at the hearing. Let me know how it went, okay?”

Gavin can envision the small nod that accompanies Nines’ words. “I will. Thank you, Gavin.”

Fuck .

***

The detective goes by Nines’ apartment after work. He’s never been inside the building, he has only dropped his partner off in front of the main entrance. It’s as fancy and sleek on the inside as it is on the outside. Most of the occupants are androids, which explains all the fancy electronics and the lack of buttons. It takes Gavin a while before he knows how to make the elevator go up to the seventh floor; it turns out the glass wall of the thing is one giant touch screen, only activating when touched.

The apartment has a similar device - only much smaller - next to the door: a keypad that Gavin has to use to get in. He types in the code Nines sent him and the door unlocks with an audible click.

The hallway is white and empty, save for a row of coat hooks on the wall and a shoe rack underneath it. Nines’ white Cyberlife jacket with the high collar is on a hook, and there is one pair of neatly polished shoes on the rack. There are three doors in the hallway: two to the right and one at the end. Bathroom, bedroom and living room, probably.

Gavin instinctively goes for the farthest door and steps into a large, L-shaped space that has to be the living room and the kitchen. The kitchen, around the corner from where he is standing, is easily recognisable. It’s more of a kitchenette, because androids don’t need a lot when it comes to a kitchen. It’s separated from the living room by a bar counter, two high stools in front of it. A grey and white kitchen, black leather and chrome stools, nothing unusual there. The thing that has Gavin stopping in his tracks is the living room.

How long is Nines living here by now? Two, maybe even three months? Long enough to leave some impression on the home, you’d think. Yet the room is bare. White walls, light grey floor, floor to ceiling windows on one side, with dark grey curtains hanging down to the floor. The apartment has a decent view of the city and that is also the only thing to look at in the room. The walls are void of pictures or paintings, there isn’t even a tv in the room. The only furniture is a black, leather sofa and a coffee table made from glass and chrome.

The sofa is angled towards the windows, the only source of entertainment in the room. Sure, Nines is a walking and talking supercomputer, if he wants to watch a show he can do that in his own head. Still, when he is at Gavin’s place, he watches tv just like any human. And he knows the android also goes through Anderson’s record collection every now and then with Connor. So, what does he do when he’s at home by himself? Watch the lights of the city all night? Or would he stare at his plant?

The reason for Gavin’s visit is in the corner by the window. It’s a pretty large plant, with big, green leaves that stretch out into the space. On closer inspection it is clear that the plant is well cared for, there are no brown spots on the leaves, they are not even a bit dusty.

Gavin turns back to find the watering can in the kitchen, opening up all the cupboards in his search. Most of ‘m are empty. The one under the sink holds cleaning supplies, there’s one with a basic set of dinnerware, like those starter sets you can buy at IKEA. There’s also some glasses and a lone drawer holds cutlery and things like a pair of scissors and a can opener.

Gavin fills the watering can with a heavy feeling in his stomach. Not needing any food or drink explains the empty kitchen, though it is no excuse for the rest of the house. “How can he live like this?” he asks himself out loud, almost expecting an echo in the empty room.

When the plant is watered, Gavin looks around the place. Maybe there are more plants somewhere? He has one in his bedroom, maybe Nines has one too. It’s a good excuse to check out the other rooms of the apartment, like there is someone here to judge him for that.

The first door in the hallway leads to a bathroom. It’s decently sized, with a shower, a sink, a toilet and a stacked washer and dryer. Above the toilet there are a couple of shelves with neatly folded towels (all starch white) and some toiletries. There’s even a roll of toilet paper, probably for when Nines has a human over. Gavin doubts that has ever been the case before tonight.

The other door leads to a dressing room. There’s a linen closet in dark, almost black wood, with a full size mirror on one of the doors. In front of it is a large ottoman, and… well, that’s it. The dressing room is as bare as the living room.

Gavin moves back to the hallway and stops to count the doors. One for the bathroom, one for the dressing room and one for the living room. Where’s the bedroom? This is not such a large apartment, it has to be here somewhere. He checks the rooms one more time, looking for a door he might have missed the first time, but it isn’t there. There is no bedroom, or rather, Gavin thinks when he stares into the dressing room, there is no bed.

***

Gavin has just finished his dinner and is doing the dishes, when he hears the front door unlock. He knows it’s Nines, his partner told him what time he would arrive when Gavin asked him to stop by after he got back from Washington.

The android appears around the corner of the kitchen with an arm full of white fur. Tiny really isn’t tiny anymore, she now fills up most of the space in Nines’ arms.

“Good evening, Gavin,” Nines says, before giving the cat one last pet and putting her down on the floor.

“Hey Tin Can.” Gavin doesn’t protest when the android grabs a kitchen towel and starts drying the dishes. Pick your battles, that kind of thing. “How was DC?”

“Intense,” is the short answer. And it’s all the android says, even when Gavin leaves a silence, an opening for Nines to fill with words.

“Come on, partner,” he says, putting another plate in the dishrack. “You gotta give me some more to work with here.”

“You are right,” Nines answers solemnly. Gavin can’t see his LED, but he bets it’s spinning yellow, or even red. “I am sorry I’ve kept information from you.”

The detective hums in agreement. “You can make up for it by telling me about it now.”

And Nines does. It’s like the first words break a dam and everything pours out. Gavin wishes he had more dishes to wash, though Nines keeps talking even though the last dishes are dried. The detective listens quietly, watching Nines put away the plates and cutlery and making him a cup of coffee.

He explains how, even though his actions normally would have simply earned him a mark in his disciplinary record, he is being used to set an example. There is no precedence, no records of androids harming others while on the job. The only cases known were those of androids who turned against their abusive owners, mainly during the first stages of deviancy. None of that applies to his case. And because Nines is a cop, who carries a gun issued by the state, he is under great scrutiny.

“Will you lose your job over it?” Gavin asks, sipping from his cup of coffee. He sounds casual, but that is a front. A poorly executed front, if the knowing glance he gets from Nines is any indication.

The android shakes his head. “Jericho appointed me an attorney, she told me my job is safe. Although I will be suspended for a while. There will be a press statement tomorrow morning, she expects there will be a media circus for the next couple of days.”

“Fuck,” Gavin mutters. There is a knot in his stomach and his coffee suddenly tastes like crap.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Gavin,” Nines says and that has Gavin’s head spinning on his shoulders.

“What? Why would -, why do you think -, no!” He shakes his head, trying to get his words straight. “I’m not disappointed, Nines. This is not your fault. As far as I’m concerned, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

They stare at each other for a minute, a minute that has time slowing down and Gavin’s heart speeding up. When did Nines get this close? Or is Gavin the one who came standing so close to his android partner? He quickly backtracks, breaking the moment - whatever fucking kind of moment that was. His cheeks feel a bit heated, something he tries to cover up by talking over it. “Except for the part where you kept me in the dark about what was going on. That was a dick move, Tin Can!”

The movement is minimal, yet the corners of Nines’ lips curl up a little. “My apologies, partner.”

“Apologies accepted,” Gavin huffs, pushing past Nines towards the living room. He takes his usual seat on the couch, knowing Nines will join him without asking. He puts on an old cop show, in dire need of some normalcy after their talk in the kitchen.

It’s hard to keep his mind on the show, although he automatically puts on a new episode after the first one is done. Tiny is in Nines’ lap, like she always is ever since she first came to live with him. Sid is in the chair, on his personal pillow. Everything is like it always is and Gavin realises that, this, with the cats and Nines near, is what his life looks like nowadays. His work partner has become a solid part of his private life.

Gavin peeks at Nines from the corner of his eyes. The android is settled in a corner of the couch, one arm stretched out along the back and the other resting in his lap, slowly scratching Tiny behind the ears. He looks at ease, at home even. It solidifies the notion that the empty, white apartment is not a home for the android; no one can convince Gavin that his partner is that much of a minimalist.

The episode is done, the next one is only the click of a thumbnail away. Yet Nines carefully lifts Tiny from his lap and gets up from the couch. “It is late, I should leave,” he says.

“Why?” Gavin winches when the question comes out anything but casual or even plain curious. He sounds needy, whiny.

The android looks down on him from his standing position. “Because we have work in the morning,” he answers matter of factly. “And I have laundry to do.” He gestures towards the black overnight bag in the corner of the room, he came here straight from the airport.

“You can do that here too,” Gavin says, swallowing against the lump in his throat. The idea of Nines alone in that empty apartment doesn’t sit well with him. Like, not well at all.

He gets up and takes his empty glass to the kitchen, just to have something to do so he doesn’t have to look at his partner. He kicks his foot against the door of the built in closet that houses his washer and dryer. “Just put it in, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?”

“You are referring to the Tarte Tatin incident,” the android says, his head slightly cocked to the side as he watches Gavin.

It was the first time Nines made a cake from the recipe book and he had not yet picked up the habit of wearing an apron. He wore Gavin’s largest hoodie while waiting for the washing machine to be done with his spattered black turtleneck.

“That event is not related to our current situation, there is no direct need for me to use your household appliances.”

Gavin curses under his breath. Nines can be such an… android sometimes. He inhales sharply and blurts out his question before he chickens out. “Why don’t you have a bed in your house?”

His partner is taken aback by his question, his LED circling yellow for a moment before it returns to a steady blue. “Have you been snooping around in my apartment?”

“I’m a detective, it’s what I do.” He folds his arms in front of his chest defensively.

“Then you know I am an android. We don’t require sleep like a human does.” Nines is looking at him curiously, like he doesn’t understand why Gavin is asking him about this. “I do not have to lie down to go into stasis,” he adds, although it is unnecessary.

“Have you ever?” Gavin asks quickly. “Slept in a bed, I mean. Or stasis, whatever.” He moves his hand jerkily over his arm and across the back of his neck, nervous about the situation, although he doesn’t really understand why. “You know? Like people do?”

He expects Nines to run the differences between androids and humans by him, he doesn’t expect the quiet ‘no’ that is offered instead.

“No? You have never been in a bed?” Gavin’s eyes go wide. “How the fuck have you been spending your nights?”

It’s a mostly redundant question, because Gavin knows at least part of the answer. Whenever he stays over at his house, the android stays on his couch. It is a solid guess that he does the same thing in his own apartment; the black, leather couch is the only piece of furniture that could be used as something akin to a bed.

“Gavin?” Nines is looking at him with a hint of worry. “Why are you getting worked up over this?” The android is probably scanning him and finding his vitals flying all over the place.

“Because…”

Because I hate the thought of you standing in a corner of your clinical apartment. Because you got into trouble because you went after my attacker. Because I don’t want you to feel alone.

“Because you’re my partner.”

Gavin musters up some courage and puts on an air of nonchalance, nudging Nines roughly with his elbow as he walks past him towards the bedroom. “Come on, Tin Can. I’m offering you the possibility of sleeping in a bed. Who knows, you might even like it!”

And that is how the android ends up in Gavin’s bed, lying on his back, with his hands folded neatly on his stomach. After the first hurdle was taken, Gavin wasn’t embarrassed anymore to make their sleeping arrangements as pleasant as possible for Nines. It took some convincing, but in the end the android dresses down to his black boxer briefs and a white undershirt. He also has a pillow and he is underneath the blankets, even though he keeps insisting androids don’t get cold.

“Shut up, Tin Can. That’s how normal people sleep.”

Gavin’s bed is big enough for the both of them to lay down without having to touch each other. However, if Gavin wakes up the next morning with his back nestled against Nines’ shoulder, well, that is only because the extra weight of the android’s chassis makes the mattress dip towards him.

<< 8/10 >>

Right?

DBH Partners series masterpost

[starlight-nightsky1107]

Start: 7:04 p.m. 13/7/2024

My own take on werewolves part 1 (For my new and first story)

Beginning (End of first part of the story)

Name: Lorena Alfred Johnson

Age: 14

Species: werewolf (human form)

Status: Healthy, Unaware

Name: Jacqueline Elise Johnson

Age: 14

Species: werewolf (human form)

Status: Healthy, Unaware

Notes: In one year, after their 15th birthday, Alfred and Elise will begin having some symptoms indicating the beginning of physical changes and preparation for their first shape-shift and the awakening of their wolf instincts and second consciousness taken in a shadow form of a wolf making it their other sense of self.

Start of midpoint

Name: Lorena Alfred Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form)

Name: Jacqueline Elise Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form)

Status: Healthy, on stage 1 of the shape-shifting preparation. Aware of the upcoming changes (thanks to their parents' teaching) but clueless of the process of it

Stage 1 symptoms: Alfred's voice deepening even more, itchiness on both twins' tail bones, they start feeling clumsy out of the blue (height growth), minor headaches and their nails are growing longer and faster than usual.

Midpoint

Name: Lorena Alfred Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form)

Name: Jacqueline Elise Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form)

Status: Healthy, on stage 2 of the shape-shifting preparation. Alfred is concerned of these progressed symptoms even though their father, Johnathan, has reassured them that it's normal for all werewolves; the sister, however, seems to be handling it better than he expected despite having similar symptoms like him.

Stage 2 symptoms: Itchiness on their tail bones continues, headaches become more painful, slight change in mood (Elise tries to stay positive as long as possible while Alfred struggles to do the same and mostly stays in his room to process everything), feel more hungry especially for animal flesh. Gum and teeth feel weird, hearing abilities begin to slowly evolve to the maximum werewolf hearing skills and as a result they can pick up on a few subtle sounds not even Amber can hear as a human and during this period hair becomes fluffier feeling almost like fur to the touch.

Past the middle of midpoint

Name: Lorena Alfred Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form, slight changes appearing a little wolf-like humanoid creature)

Name: Jacqueline Elise Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form, slight changes appearing a little wolf-like humanoid creature)

Status: Healthy, on stage 3 of the shape-shifting preparation. Alfred feels more tired the last couple of weeks, no matter how many hours he sleeps. Besides the now unbearable headaches his eyes are stinging with an intense burning sensation which could be a sign that he's gaining increased eyesight and night vision with the help of the moon. Same goes to Elise, eventually beginning to stay to her room too.

Stage 3 symptoms: New bones for their wolf tails begin forming on the tail bone, nails need to be trimmed and cut every week due to the uncontrollable (re)growth, eye colour slowly turning into gold and irises becoming more slit. Adding to this, pain in the joints slowly increases from height growth, they become aware of something slowly awakening on the inside, their hearing abilities continue to develop, have bigger appetite than last time, eventually blood veins start to take a black colour and teeth are taking a sharper form.

End of midpoint

Name: Lorena Alfred Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form, more changes appearing a little wolf-like humanoid creature)

Name: Jacqueline Elise Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form, more changes appearing a little wolf-like humanoid creature)

Status: Healthy, on stage 4 of the shape-shifting preparation. Days turn into weeks and eventually one month and a half later Alfred feels more moody and overwhelmed of the slightest sounds and most detailed things from a far distance (his almost developed night vision isn't making things better either). Even his twin sister's positivism seems to fade out for the same reason, and both of them try to comfort each other and not start arguments despite always being in distress, confused and overwhelmed. Can you blame them though?

Stage 4 symptoms: Tail has been fully formed with brand new bones, blood veins, nerve endings and currently pending for the fur to grow out. Hearing abilities and night vision have fully developed but the twins are still adjusting to these changes (they don't seem amused with the idea of hearing all kinds of gossip people would whisper about if they were in a close distance, hate fireworks and loud cars in close range (although it will only last for a short period till their hearing has been properly controlled in an older age)). Smelling skills have began upgrading and now they can smell their family's scents, Amber's scent & their parents' including their own (all those new scents are something they try to process but that's the only thing that's mysterious and interesting in their opinion, who could have thought their father was right about living beings having a unique scent?). All blood veins have been covered in black and fingertips and toes began turning black too and the process will continue further during the end of stage 4 and beginning of stage 5. The ears were already pointy and fluffy since childhood, this time they gain muscle movement resulting in twitching whenever a sound attracts Alfred and Elise's attention, even a sudden one.

Epilogue of midpoint

Name: Lorena Alfred Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form with (were)wolf features, the Pre-transformation process has been completed)

Name: Jacqueline Elise Johnson

Age: 15

Species: werewolf (human form with (were)wolf features, the Pre-transformation process has been completed)

Status: Healthy, on Final Stage (stage 5) of the shape-shifting preparation. The time has come, there are only three days left before the full moon. Alfred still doesn't feel ready yet for his first transformation, including Elise, despite spending their time getting ready for that day during the months they were going through those changes listed above. Lately he's been feeling nervous for what's to come just like his sister; the life they used to know will change in just one night. They will see things differently, they will come across unfamiliar sounds they never heard before, and most importantly they will become hunters just like their family and the entire wolf pack. They will finally get their true werewolf form after years of being in the human version, and a secondary one which is the wolf version.

Final Stage symptoms: The migraines disappear just like that while the rest of the physical symptoms remain. Their nails on both hands and legs have harden and are really sharp just like their teeth so there's really no point in trying to cut them again after many times and quick regrowth overnight.

End: 7:57 p.m. 14/10/2024