#i mean not really traumatic... i was just really shaken up after coming home and couldn't calm down even after a few hours. yeah.

[adhdtsukasa]

my biggest fear as an adhder actually happened (i somehow forgot my headphones at school and i have absolutely no memory nor clue how it happened whatsoever)

[blue-rose-soul]

What if charlie and alastor grew up togethr ?

For that to happen, Lucifer would have had to know about Alastor from the beginning*. I don't think he would have taken Alastor away from Nicaise, and she wouldn't have wanted to live in Hell, even if it did mean living in luxury. The guilt and the feelings of betrayal are still there - it certainly doesn't help his crumbling relationship with Lilith - but Lucifer wants to keep an eye on his friend and their child. So he peeks in on them on Earth, occasionally pops in to grant a couple small miracles or gifts. Never staying long just in case Heaven catches on.

Then Nicaise is murdered by her employer. And there is no way in hell that Lucifer is allowing that fucking piece of shit to keep her child! Lucifer books it over as soon as he can and finds Alastor sleeping in a shed and, oh, he is not happy. He doesn't kill Nicaise's murderer. It's enough to flash his wings, horns out, spitting flames as he informs the man that Hell is real and he's bound to it before disappearing with Alastor**.

So now, in just the span of a few days, Alastor: has witnessed his mother's violent murder, has been effectively kidnapped by her murderer, was forced to sleep in a shed that smells like dogs, found out that angels and demons are real and that his father is one, has been whisked away to live in another world that transforms him into a monster as soon as he enters it, and is now expected to get used to living with his mysterious father as well as a new step-mother and half-sister. Needless to say, it's a lot.

So naturally, he's a bit shaken when he first arrives in the Morningstar household. He doesn't speak and spends most of his time shut up in his new room which is way bigger than his old house was. Lucifer's awkwardly trying to balance giving him the space he needs and make him feel welcome. Lilith isn't terribly thrilled with the situation, but... Well, she seems to have a lot of compassion for her people. I don't think she would really turn out a traumatized child, but she's definitely going through some complicated emotions of her own.

Charlie has none of the reservations the grown ups have. In fact, she's suuuuuuuuuuper excited to meet her new little brother! Even if he doesn't look that much littler than her***. So she slips into his room, tries to drag him out of bed, pesters him, and generally just acts like an excitable, friendly child. As much as Lucifer and Lilith try to get her to give Alastor space and time to adjust, she keeps coming back. Her little brother looks so sad and she doesn't want him to be sad! She wants to help him feel happy!

She remains persistent, telling Alastor all about her home and family and insisting that he'll like it soon because her mom and dad are really nice and she loves him already and he'll love it there in Hell and...

She stops as she sees the tears start to roll down Alastor's face. Charlie begins to panic, thinking she's said something mean by accident, but then Alastor sobs out that he misses his maman and just wants to go home! Suddenly Charlie feels really bad. She doesn't know how to make things better. So she just stays. Sits next to him. Doesn't leave him alone. Sheds a few tears of her own.

Once Alastor's cried it out and tired himself out a bit, Charlie asks him what his mom was like. They spend all night talking about her. When Lucifer goes to check in on Alastor later, he finds both kids passed out on the floor in a pile of blankets.

It's still rough going from there on out, but Charlie plays a large part in helping Alastor heal after everything. Some things still stay the same. Lucifer and Lilith's marriage still struggles, she disappears, Lucifer pulls away from now both of his children in his depression. And Alastor still has a lot of anger. He doesn't really agree with Charlie's goal of redeeming sinners because he fully believes that some people just aren't worth redeeming.

Still, he goes with her whenever she searches for injured sinners after the exterminations. He and Vaggie actually get along a bit better here. They still snipe at each other quite a bit, but there's an almost friendly undercurrent to it. And although he doesn't really believe in the goal of redeeming sinners, he does go along with the Happy Hotel project just to help Charlie out. Doesn't stop him from mocking the idea every step of the way.

This version of Alastor hasn't really developed the Radio Demon persona. He doesn't exactly need to, given he's the Prince of Hell. But he's still Alastor and still cultivates a terrifying reputation for himself. Charlie's grown up with this Alastor though and knows the man behind the curtain. She's not always happy with how quick he is to suggest violence as a solution, but she also knows that when he sees a weaker demon being preyed upon by stronger ones, he'll step in.

He's also protective of Charlie, and usually takes it upon himself to step in and do things that he sees as necessary but he knows she wouldn't like. For example, after finding out how Valentino treated her when she went to the studio, Alastor pays his own visit in private and makes sure Valentino knows if he tries to pull any shit like that again, Alastor will pick apart his soul piece by wretched piece and scatter it across all the rings of hell. Charlie knows he did something when the next time she sees Valentino, the pimp screams bloody murder and throws himself out the nearest window.

(*Just imagine Lucifer, wings out, attempting to drunkenly climb out of Nicaise's window, only to get stuck, give up, and slump over on the floor.)

(**The old bastard spends the rest of his life donating his wealth to build orphanages and hospitals, helping the poor, and basically trying to buy his way into Heaven. It doesn't work and he's slaughtered during his first extermination in hell.)

(***Charlie at this point should be roughly a century old, but to be honest, I'm not entirely sure what that means for a half-angel half-demon like her. Did she age at a typical human rate until she reached young adulthood and then just stopped? Or did she just age very very slowly? I'm going with the second for the sake of this AU. I also have this theory that Lilith never actually died, and was transformed into a unique sort of demon simply by entering primordial Hell. And something similar happens to young Alastor when Lucifer brings him home.)

[stabbyfoxandrew]

I know you're a voltron lover ny friend so which fox would be which paladin and why?

okay so i got this ask like as soon as i woke up and i was like HUH bc i forgot about last night :'))

after some consideration, of the monsters:

Kevin would be Shiro, Neil would be Keith, Nicky would be Lance, Andrew would be Hunk, and Aaron would be Pidge. (none of these assignments has anything to do with shipping purposes. like i'm not saying neil and nicky would be klance? i just wanna make that clear?)

Anyhow you can think otherwise, i don't mind! But to me, these just make sense.... I will explain myself below.

long, sort of insane ramble under the cut. you have been warned.

Kevin is the slightly older mentor to Neil (the shiro to neil's keith) who is very traumatized by his time with a Bunch of Evil Shits and has gray hair and had his hand (arm) ruined by the enemy! He learns and grows and tries to make his team the best it can be. He never wants to stop until the ravens (galra) are defeated! He's scared bc he's far from home but he's brave as hell anyway! Braver than he should have to be, he's just in his 20s. PLEASE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK (and also he's separated from his bf. ik kevjean isn't canon but let me make this connection anyway bc they're canon to me)

Neil is the hotheaded asshole who actually sorta wants to be friends with people but has the social skills of a raccoon who was shoved into a trash can and shaken around for, oh, ten years or so. He looks up to Kevin, wants to be like him, but knows he could NEVER fill his shoes! And he doesn't want to! He wants to help Kevin, not be Kevin. (getting the quote wrong for sure but the 'one of us should make it and i want it to be you' kinda mindset is so keith? keith literally almost died to KEEP EVERYONE SAFE!!!! LIKE NEIL'S STUPID MARTYR ASS)

Nicky is the sweet, funny one who cares deeply about everyone and who gets the least consideration from the rest no matter how he tries? (the man willingly moved away from his family (ERIK) to take care of people who don't give a shit about him (supposedly), like lance who was taken from his family to fight to save the world? like... come on.) he's unapologetic about who he is and tries to get along with everyone, for the most part. but he has no problem biting back one someone starts smth. (ie. his beef with Seth and Allison) He is misunderstood, bc while he's outgoing and friendly he also has another side that's just straight-up Traumatized. Like... he's not all jokes. He's just hiding behind them.

Andrew is is strong and is largely a Protector. People misunderstand him because of things outside of his control, by this I mean Andrew is 'evil and crazy,' but it's because of the drugs that he's on bc he was fiercely protective of his cousin. He cares about his people and wants to protect them. (Like Hunk is rightly scared and Andrew acts apathetic, but they do care. That's the important part.) I'm not saying Andrew has a secret heart of gold and he's a Sweet Lil Cinnamon Roll or all the shit people used to say about Hunk (bc let's be honest, making the fat brown character into a uwu baby is rage inducing) but he cares. OH ALSO THEY BOTH HAVE A FEAR OF HEIGHTS!!!! (or hunk did at the beginning anyhow!) Also this is unrelated but I think Andrew would enjoy having a bayard. It could turn into lots of different knives? sign him up : )

Aaron is green. (i was gonna leave it at that to be funny but that would be mean to aaron) So... Aaron is Andrew's everyone's annoying sibling who's actually really smart but also is a dumbass at the same time. He's got ulterior motives to be there. (Aaron plays exy to get his education, Pidge is part of voltron to find her dad and brother.) And Aaron is going into the medical field which is science related, thusly... assigned green paladin by Moi.

Anyway, it just fits. I could probably go into even more detail but I'd rather be dead than discuss this show at length bc I'm not a really voltron fan. I love the characters and the first three seasons. that's where it stops for me. the rest of the show makes me wanna die. lol i couldn't even tell you what happens after s3. i've blocked it all of that shit from my memory. :')

ahhh sorry for this novel. i just apparently had a lot of thoughts. i was gonna go and do the upperclassmen as well but... this is too long and they're not my Pookies so.

(ps: sorry this is so badly formatted. i didn't feel like making it look nice :'))

[shadowqueen1220]

Analysis on C! Tubbo's Emotional State

Disclaimer: I am in no means a professional and I am heavily basing this off of my own experiences and general observations. (Please let me know if my wording is bad)

This is all about the roleplay characters if it wasn't clear

Warning: self harm, self sacrifice, self destructive behavior and talk of mental health and canon typical violence

Tubbo has always been a self sacrificial character. He always helps his friends at the expense of his own safety (ie disc war and L'manburg). He is a bit of an overachiever and that has gotten worse when combined with tendencies of paranoia. (all og members of L'manburg have paranoia issues, stemming from the final control room)

After the Independance War, Tubbo was involved with the elections. He made a secret bunker, saying "hope for the best plan for the worse" in case the electrons went wrong. He was proven right and then had to endure a harsh dictatorship.

Spy Tubbo was constantly under stress. He not only was secretly slipping information to Pogtopia but had his role of Security of State as well. At the Elections, Schlatt verbally abused Tubbo and scared him into following his orders. Most of the things Schlatt had told Tubbo to have shaped him into the Tubbo that internalizes and represses all his emotions. (ie don't complain, don't cry, don't talk back, agree with everything I say). Tubbo, who already naturally liked to help his friends, was forced to become a yes man in order to stay safe.

The Festival was a disaster and a huge blow to Tubbo's self esteem. The famous line here is "Wilbur said he wasn't going to hurt me" and Tubbo wholeheartedly believed that he could trust Wilbur, his former president and older brother figure. However, all he got was the fact that he was now expendable to Wilbur. His death was brushed aside and it seemed like the only person who cared was Tommy. Even Tubbo quickly became desensitized to the fact that his own pain did not matter in the chaos of the situation.

His life becomes even more chaotic when he is thrust into the role of President and his self sacrificing nature kicked in when no one else would take the presidency. And then in the first 10 minutes into his presidency, he is shot and his nation is blown up.

Tubbo takes this all in stride, repressing everything in order to rebuilt but his cabinet does not listen to him and constantly talks over him. When his vice president and best friend gets into trouble, Tubbo learns that he must be louder in order to be heard.

Tubbo felt betrayed by Tommy's actions during the exile negotiations. He felt as if Tommy didn't respect his power and the pressure of living up to President Wilbur, the threat of becoming like President Schlatt and the expectations of the entire nation all depended on him.

Tubbo once again choose sacrifice but this time, he was not only sacrificing himself but harmed Tommy in his decision as well. Immediately Tubbo regretted his decision and regressed into his yes man habits to cope with the situation.

From here on out, this may be a bit of a stretch but I love putting lore goggles on to every scene for analysis purposes and with a character like Tubbo who is rarely played, we can get some character depth from seemingly "silly" bits.

Tubbo after exiling Tommy shifted from being self sacrificial to self destructive. Both presidents before him had died and the odds were not looking good for Tubbo, already he had made an awful decision that he immediately regretted. Yet he couldn't reverse it and didn't feel worthy enough to see Tommy.

Tubbo never built himself a home in L'manburg. No stuff, no place to sleep, no roots. He told Ranboo that the presidency was all his when the elections came around. He didn't want to be president anymore. He's worryingly self depreciating.

I don't quite remember the timing of this stream but Tubbo and Ranboo once went nether exploring. Ranboo panicked as Tubbo was extremely reckless during this adventure, jumping into lava without fire res, speed bridging with few blocks and jumping off of tall places without checking his health. In addition, Tubbo went through a series of projects as a President, always doing something new and often involving things that could hurt him (ie Ravenger teleportation, tnt jumping). We can see Tubbo become subtly self destructive during this time.

(sidenote: tubbo has a habit to jump off of high things and expecting the person at the bottom to water bucket. Tommy usually is the person to "catch him" and I find it interesting that they both had self destructive tendencies while the other was gone. I'll come back to this point soon)

We never get Tubbo's opinion on the Butcher Army. He heavily opposed the idea at the beginning of the presidency but agreed to take part in it despite Techno killing him being a traumatizing event.

And then Logsteadshire. The guilt of exiling his best friend and being the cause to his death is too much for his mind to handle and he passes out. We never learn how Tubbo got back to L'manburg and the next time we see him, he is back to throwing himself into project after project.

The next time we really see Tubbo is when Tommy and Technoblade take Connor hostage. Ranboo says that Tubbo is just staring at a grass block and when Tommy appears, Tubbo is severely shaken. He is glad that his best friend is alive and upset that he's teamed with his murder but has to all shove it aside to fulfill his role as president. Tubbo takes Tommy yelling at him and Techno's accusations with no protest and once again, represses everything to move on.

Already the Green Festival reminded Tubbo of familiar events but at this time he was in control or so he thought. He had already failed an execution so he was determined to make this word so L'manburg could be safer. He had failed Tommy so he might as well try to make the server a better place by killing Dream. Yet Tubbo had doubts about it.

Dream was manipulating Tubbo during his entire presidency. Tubbo truly believed that Dream was his friend and thought that Dream supported him as a president. His self esteem was so low that he searched for validation anywhere (ie "rate my kidnapping", "phil tell me I'm doing good pls") and Dream willingly gave him companionship.

But then Dream started screaming at him and calling him and awful president, Tubbo agreed with Dream. Tubbo saw himself as weak and stupid and no one came to his defense so it had to be true.

His fight with Tommy was very impactful and led Tubbo to believe that the discs mattered more than him but we'll get back to that soon. Most of the things said during this fight were forgiven by both parties so I hope it doesn't affect him much.

Sidenote: when Quackity suggests to execute Ranboo, Tubbo chooses forgiveness for Ranboo having been in that position before and snaps at Quackity. Here we get a glimpse of Tubbo's inner emotions and we can see clearly that the events of the festival have hurt him.

Doomsday is further proof to Tubbo that he is the worst President that L'manburg had. He stares at the destruction in mute disbelief and even throws himself into tnt and in front of a firework for Tommy. By the end of the experience, Tubbo is so drained that he has given up on government, the fight beaten out of him and he lets L'manburg go, thinking it was his fault it fell.

Tubbo has suffered the most from government yet strives to make a community. Snowchester was supposed to be his healing. However, Tubbo's paranoia from all the violence and the lessons that he has learned from the others, caused him to built a way to defend himself. He doesn't even make a bed for himself in his new house.

Then his life gets shaken up by the Disc War Finale. He refuses to talk about his feelings on the odds, accepts defeat instantly as they were "doomed from the beginning" and doesn't seem to mind the fact that he might die.

In fact, he says "It was about time anyway"

Tubbo thinks he is living on borrowed time. All of the presidents before him are dead and he is in a seemingly impossible situation. Death seems to be the only option and he has accepted it before hand so he is fine with it. Even Tommy seems shaken by this as Tubbo was so positive about the situation before. But Tubbo had been hiding that all for Tommy's sake as he is very self sacrificial.

When everything seems to return to "normal" Tubbo tests his nukes and later tells Ranboo that be had expected everything to go horribly wrong. He is trying to heal and does a decent job at it, starting a family and building Snowchester.

But then he gets the memo that Tommy has been trapped in prison with Dream. He checks out the prison, being a inconvenience to the guards and is hardly fazed when Sam threatens to kill him. He leaves feeling disappointed that he cannot help but that is what it is and Tubbo thinks that Tommy is the strongest person he knows.

So that's why Tommy can't be dead. Tubbo denies Sam's words and when they finally register, begins an investigation to find out who's to blame. He becomes self destructive again, wearing Dream's armor and building a familiar panic room to research the crime.

He is once again extremely reckless when investigating. With Ranboo's help, they go and investigate the egg and Tubbo shows his lack of care for his own safety. He tries to break open the egg, challenges Bad and Ant to a pvp and suggests to continue investigating. But at this point, Ranboo has noticed this recklessness and gently reminds Tubbo of Michael.

From this point, Tubbo seems to be healing again. And then to make things better, Tommy is back and they are going to kill Dream but that's okay because it hasn't really settled yet. Tubbo is once again shaken by Tommy's return and follows him in silence to make sure he is really there. He is so worried about Tommy, he reaches out to MIA Ghostbur to help him.

Tubbo is still self destructive but less so after this. He still jumps off high places but does so more out of trust. He finally gets a bed in Snowchester and things seem to be looking up.

But then Tommy's words about Dream settle in. Dying is no longer permanent and Tubbo has things he wants to protect. To do this he recommissions the nukes but is panicked when one is stolen.

We have no idea where it is going to go from here, but I can already see some problems with Tubbo's increasing paranoia.

In addition, the details about the nukes and their suicide button and Tubbo's willingness to sacrifice himself for the greater good does not bode well.

Overall, Tubbo is a complex character and I greatly enjoy how he is played.

Thank you for reading and let me know if you have any comments!

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I might be back on my bullshit thinking about Louis [as if I ever stopped] and episode 2 again. Like... there are a lot of things that could’ve been handled better when it comes to ep2, but can we just appreciate his apology to Clementine during the archery scene? 

[note: this turned into a bit of a rant, and for that, I apologize]

It still baffles me that he gets dismissed as a shitbird by portions of the fandom to this day for being upset with Clem and AJ when he just found out his best friend gave away the twins, murdered Brody and tried to pin it on Clementine to cover his tracks... only to then be murdered by AJ after he already gave up, shot him in the back of the head right in front of everyone and left Louis heartbroken and traumatized. 

Like I understand that some of y’all think Clementine and AJ should never be held accountable for anything they do and they’re always right, even when they’re in the wrong because you’re the player projecting yourself onto them and everyone who is mean to you is a stupid head unless they’re mean in the right way.

Or you’re one of those violentine stans who feels like the only way to validate your ship is to create this narrative that Louis is a traitor and Clementine would never love him after he voted for them to leave as if the only way you know how to make Violet look good is to make Louis bad by comparison instead of like... y’know, being one of the decent stans who explain and gush about the positives of the ship itself and why they love it rather obsessing over the other ship. 

Either way, you’re really gonna look at that situation of Louis reacting to his best friend’s death after what just went down and be like “calm down, Louis, you’re being a jerk :/” like.... I’m sorry? 

Aren’t you the same people who complained about Luke not giving a shit about Nick’s death back in s2? how he didn’t have a reaction? In fact, aren’t you also the same people who vigorously defended Kenny for his reaction to Sarita’s death after he lashed out at Clementine? Remember? When he yelled at her and called her a stupid fucking kid who thinks she can just get anyone killed and it’s okay because she said sorry? but it’s fine because Kenny’s reacting in a realistic way that makes sense for his character and he later apologizes for it? 

but now here you are, getting a realistic reaction out of Louis that makes sense with his character and all of a sudden, you don’t like it? You want him to just be like “Oh no, Marlon.... anyway.” Really?

Louis is hurt, he’s pissed and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s so shaken by what the hell just happened, Marlon’s dead body is bleeding out on the ground, Ruby’s talking about getting fucking medicine as if that’s gonna do anything, Violet waving her cleaver around at them even though literally none of them were looking at AJ they were all looking at Clementine, Violet you are not helping anyone in this situation, you’re only making it worse and adding to the aggression... but no, Louis shouldn’t be a fucking mess right now. He should just shrug his shoulders and be like “Welp, this is fine.” 

Then there’s the damn funeral. Look, Clementine and AJ shouldn’t have been there. I know they had to be for story purposes, but it’s such a bad idea that it makes Violet, the one who wanted them there, look like an ass who has no regard for anyone other than herself, Clementine and AJ, and those who agree with her... which is only Tenn and I guess everyone else sucks and their feelings are invalid because no one else wanted them there since it’s not a good idea to have Marlon’s murderer attend his funeral and if you believe that isn’t going to piss people off or make them uncomfortable, then either you don’t care or you don’t know how to read a room. 

And by the way, Louis wasn’t the one who suggested voting them out. He wasn’t even there when MITCH said they should take a vote and everyone agreed to it. So why is it that Louis gets all this blame for how the vote turned out? Oh, Louis is such a traitor because he’s the reason they got kicked out.... except no? 

First of all, if you’re so mad at Louis then how come you’re not mad at Ruby? She voted them out, too. So did Omar. They contributed to kicking them out. How come no one else talks about how much they hate them after they said having the vote was a fair idea and then voted them out? Oh, and Willy, too. Willy voted them out. The only other person who gets heat for the vote is Mitch, and he was the one who came up with the idea in the first place... but no one else, huh? 

Also, how come only Violet gets praise for wanting Clementine and AJ to stay? Never see anyone talk about how amazing Aasim is after he was the third vote for them. He has legit reasons for wanting them around, too, but he didn’t want them at the funeral either so what, does that cancel out his vote for you? Where is the Aasim love? 

Then we got the dorms where Louis and Violet come to escort them away, and once again, I have to mention that both of them are wrong in this situation. They’re on the extreme opposites where Violet thinks they should stay because they didn’t do anything wrong, and Louis thinks they should leave because AJ’s dangerous. Both of these view points make sense with their characters.

However, I guess some conveniently ignore how conflicted Louis is about the whole thing and how he’s feeling about it because it doesn’t fit with the narrative they’re trying to push about his character. 

Again, he’s dealing with a lot of shit right now only to be constantly invalidated by Violet, who keeps telling him what a shithead he is for hurting about this, how he’s just burying his head in the sand again and all this other shit, and he eventually snaps at her and says AJ’s dangerous, which hurts AJ and it’s all over Louis’ face that he realizes he snapped and he feels bad about it. 

But Louis never got aggressive with them, he never laid a hand on them, and he was there to escort them out in the woods. And that argument of “he sent them out there to die therefore Clementine and AJ should hate him, Clem shouldn’t want any friendly/romantic relationship with him because he put AJ at risk and got him shot” is.... I dunno, ugh? It’s ugh. You act like Louis did this to intentionally get them hurt when that’s not true. 

Clementine and AJ have survived on their own for years, so it makes sense that Louis would try to justify this to himself like “they’ll make it out there, they’ll survive because they’ve done this before... this is for the best for everyone” and no, him telling them that this is probably like going home for them isn’t okay, but it makes sense for his character because he doesn’t actually know how bad it is out there. 

None of them know, they’ve all lived in walls their whole lives. It’s naïve of him, yes, but it makes sense and he didn’t do this with shitty intentions of wanting them to get hurt. He didn’t know that Lilly and Abel would be out there, he didn’t know AJ would get shot, he didn’t know any of it. He didn’t think that if they voted them out, this would happen. He was struggling with his feelings about them and saying goodbye to someone he was starting to feel a connection with. 

And he let them back in. Hell, he carried AJ into the school himself when they showed up wounded and you still wanna call him an asshole and a traitor? He could’ve said nope, get the hell out. We kicked you out, you’re not welcome here. 

He didn’t do that, he ran to them to see if they’re okay, he brought AJ to Ruby and stayed with him the entire time Clem was in the office with Violet.... AND he apologized to AJ, quietly begging for him to be okay... and when he’s faced with Clementine after what happened, he doesn’t know what to say to her. He can’t even look at her because he feels so ashamed of himself and feels all the blame for this. 

This is a moment that ties back to backstory. Louis’ emotions overpowered him, he made a decision and now AJ is shot and bleeding on the couch.... when he came to the school, they [the staff, I assume] said these kids were bad people, they told Louis that he was bad after what he did to his parents and he internalized that, and this whole this just reaffirms that idea “I am bad, I hurt people, this is my fault.” He blames himself for everything even though there’s no way he could’ve known. You can feel Louis’ genuine concern for AJ and how he’s doing, but at the same time, he’s trying to distance himself from Clementine… and well, sorta failing since he brings her clothes and they have the conversation in the dorms. 

Then the archery scene.... y’know, the scene I was gonna make a simple little post about that somehow turned into this. 

Once again we have Louis and Violet arguing because that’s what they do now, and Violet continues to tell him to get over himself without listening to anything he says, and he goes to practice archery so that y’know... when the raiders come he can use a weapon to help defend them since he’s not very good with it and needs practice.

Clem goes to check on him, and Louis apologizes for voting them out, explains that when AJ shot Marlon, he blamed Clementine when that wasn’t the right thing to do. He had a lot going on emotionally on top of what was happening around him, but after having two weeks to work through things alone, even though he’ll never be happy Marlon died, he can understand why AJ thought it was the right thing to do... and if he could take everything back, he would. He knew that the moment they came back, and he still does. 

I just.... how often does Clementine ever get an actual apology from anyone who has hurt her? A real apology from someone who means it and then doesn’t just turn around and repeat the same hurtful actions? Like... it baffles me that people will look at this genuine apology and tell him to fuck off, but will accept and continue to adore someone like Kenny who will apologize for hurting Clem, only to never try to be better and ends up hurting her even more next time. 

Or they’ll accept and justify Violet’s last minute apology for punching Clementine in the face on the boat and putting everyone [including AJ, rememeber?] at risk of either dying or being made into brainwashed soldiers by the delta. 

They both have reasons for their behaviors and you’ll work your ass off to justify them, and I’m not saying your points are wrong or invalid, but you seriously won’t even try to extend that same thing to Louis? Why? 

Well, jokes on you because I too will work my ass of to talk about Louis and what he’s going through and that’s how posts like this get made. I know not everyone is going to feel that connection to him that I have, and you’re allowed to not like him as a character, but realize that I’m also allowed to give my perspective on his character and why I disagree with points posed by those who don’t like him. 

The archery scene is one of my favorites. It’s Louis and Clementine proving that they’re able to open up to one another and say they’re sorry, to forgive the other without being petty or holding it over the other to throw back at them the next time they argue. It proves that Louis wants to put in the effort to repair their relationship and atone for the mistakes he made, to step up and not be “bad” anymore. 

I mean, Louis says it best himself. Everyone heard the jokes and the piano, after that, they stop listening... a lot of people just boil him down to a funny man who never takes anything seriously and the only thing he could ever bring to Clementine’s life is a good laugh, but those who stuck with him and put an effort into building his and Clementine’s relationship know better than that. They know how much this apology in ep2 means even with the downer that the timeline of events rushes everything a bit. 

The fact that Louis doesn’t have this big ego that prevents him from apologizes, that he can forgive AJ for what he did and still build a strong relationship with both him and Clementine, that if you earn his trust he will follow you to hell and back, that he isn’t afraid to call Clementine out on her bullshit and doesn’t have a come apart when she does the same to him, that with her and AJ by his side he finally doesn’t feel alone anymore.... it’s all just so fucking good. 

I dunno, maybe you can understand why I get so ugh whenever I still see these same arguments about him being made with this double standard that doesn’t apply to other characters.

[daniclaytcn]

there ain’t nothing common about us

a/n: some much needed comfort after all the hurt the fandom has put itself through this past week :)

aO3

title courtesy of @malikjavaddzayn, thank goodness she isn't as indecisive as i am!

tagging some people who may be interested: @evaneddie @diazalex @buttercupbuck @diazseddie @firefighter-diaz (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from my tag list!)

When Eddie wakes, it is violently and with a tortured gasp as he abruptly sits up in bed, the sheets tangled around him. He covers his face with his left hand for a moment, breathing heavily, fighting back the sobs that threaten to spring free, his body shaking like a leaf.

It isn’t the first time he’s woken up like since he was discharged from the hospital with a sling around his right shoulder and an acute sense of fear and paranoia that followed him even into the safety of his own home. It has been almost a month, but the nightmares wake Eddie almost every night, varying in degrees of severity. The first two weeks were the worst, reaching the peak when he screamed in his sleep loud enough to wake Christopher, leaving the boy shaken and terrified.

Eddie put Chris into therapy the next day, and started working on waking himself up before the nightmares could get out of hand. The last thing he wants to do his traumatize his son even more than he already is, Chris has been through far too much at such a young age.

The dreams seem to blend together most of the time, memories of Afghanistan and the shooting, making the lines between the two blurry and unrecognizable. Sometimes, he’ll see the bodies of his fellow soldiers scattered around him on a sunny street in LA. And other times, he’s in the inky-black darkness of the desert, reaching out for Buck, who seems impossibly far away, covered with sand and blood.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Eddie reaches for his phone, wincing as the movement jostles his right shoulder. It’s 2 AM. Wonderful.

He tiptoes down the hallway to Chris’ room, cracking the door open just enough to see the shape of his son under the covers, sleeping peacefully. The sight makes something settle in his chest, the something that has been left askew after every single nightmare. He is here. He is safe. Christopher is safe. He didn’t leave him (again). They’ll be alright, eventually.

How pathetic is it that even after a month, he still needs to remind himself of it almost daily?

Eddie returns to his room and sits back down on his bed, leaning against the headboard as he feels a wave of bone-deep exhaustion wash over him. Between the PT and Chris’ therapy and occasional nightmares and his own nightmares, Eddie needs all the rest he can get. But he never can go back to sleep after waking up from an episode and. Well.

Maybe he should start going back to therapy, too. Eddie knows he’ll have to, eventually, to be cleared for duty. But before that, he still needs to get himself together. For Chris’ sake, if nothing else. He just—he can’t stand the thought of talking to some stranger about what happened, though. The only person he has been able to talk to so far is Buck.

Buck. He’s been a rock throughout this whole process, the entirety of the 118 has, really. Buck, though? He’s just been around, somehow more entwined in their lives than before, cooking meals, helping out Eddie with chores around the house, watching Chris when Eddie needs his rest. And coming from anyone else, it would make Eddie bristle, would make him protest that he doesn’t need all this extra help, to be treated like an invalid, but it never feels like that with Buck. Never has. He’s just…there, sometimes spending more time in Eddie’s house than his own apartment, putting up with Eddie’s occasional bursts of temper on harder days. He doesn’t allow Eddie to push him away, and Eddie thinks there’s nothing more he is grateful for, really.

Eddie is dialing Buck’s number before he can stop himself. While the two of them have talked about the incident, briefly, Eddie has never told him about the nightmares. He knows Buck blames himself, still, because he has a guilt complex possibly larger than Eddie’s own and Eddie…Eddie doesn’t want to be a burden. He should be able to deal with this himself. He did deal with it alone, after returning from Afghanistan. Why is this time so different?

Buck answers on the third ring. “Hey,” He doesn’t sound surprised or panicked at receiving a late-night call from Eddie. He doesn’t even sound like he’s been startled out of sleep, but Eddie feels the need to apologize anyway.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” He says, guilt feeling like lead in his stomach.

“It’s alright, I wasn’t asleep,” Buck says and before Eddie can wonder why, he’s asking, “Is everything alright?”

Eddie opens his mouth to answer and nothing comes out. He feels frustrated tears prick at his eyes and he exhales deeply, trying to hold them in.

“Eddie?” Buck sounds more concerned now, and Eddie can hear a rustling noise, like he’s sitting up.

“Sorry, yeah,” Eddie manages to get out, wondering if his voice sounds as wrecked to Buck as it does to him. “I, um—” Might as well just rip the bandage off and get it over with. “Nightmares.” He says, finally.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says, his voice taking on a softer, consoling lilt. He doesn’t sound surprised. Eddie doesn’t know why he expected him to be.

“It’s just—” Eddie breathes out harshly, gripping the phone harder. “I just can’t fucking sleep. It’s almost every night, I just keep reliving that day over and over and it never stops and I should be over it by now, right? And I should be able to hold it together, for Chris, he deserves so much better, but—God. It’s too much.”

“Have you considered going back to see Frank?” Buck asks, carefully. Eddie sighs.

“I did. I mean, it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? I need to get better, and Chris—”

“But this isn’t about Chris, Eddie,” Buck interrupts, almost sharply. “You should want to get better for yourself, too. I mean, you were shot. In broad daylight, with zero warning—” he cuts himself off for a moment and Eddie can hear him exhale roughly over the line. “No one expects you to just bounce back. Trauma doesn’t exactly have a time limit, you know. You need to do what’s best for you.”

And Eddie can suddenly remember Carla’s words in that moment—Make sure you’re following your heart instead of Christopher’s—and wants to laugh hysterically at the irony of it. He knew then that Carla had a point—it’s why he broke up with Ana—and he knows that Buck has a point, too. But it isn’t as easy as it sounds.

“I’m not sure I know how.” He confesses.

“I know,” Buck says, softly, and sighs. “You always put Chris first, Eddie, that’s who you are, and that’s why I—”

Eddie holds his breath for a second. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting.

“Anyway,” Buck says, after too long a pause and Eddie deflates slightly. “You’re important too, Eddie. I wish you could see that. I wish you could—you could see yourself the way I see you.”

And how do you see me? Eddie wants to ask, but doesn’t dare. Things have changed since the shooting—there’s no way they couldn’t—and he feels like he and Buck have been hovering on the edge of a precipice, something electric and alien sparking between them. There isn’t a word for it, and neither of them have done anything about it. They’re really not in any state to do so. But lord, is Eddie tempted, sometimes.

“Why were you awake, anyway?” Eddie asks, wanting to break the thick tension that has suddenly formed. Buck sighs, like he was afraid he would ask.

“Nightmares,” He says, clearly trying to sound casual, but a waver in his voice gives him away.

Eddie’s chest clenches. “I’m sorry.”

Buck lets out a wet-sounding chuckles and Eddie hates the idea of it, him having nightmares all alone in that apartment. “Only you would apologize for getting shot, Eddie.”

“Come over,” Eddie says, before he can stop himself. “I know it’s late, but—I don’t think either of us should be alone right now.”

There’s a lengthy pause and Eddie almost wants to take it back but Buck, mercifully, speaks. “Are you sure you want me there?”

“Yes.” Is what Eddie says. I always want you here, is what he doesn’t dare to say.

Buck pauses again. Then—

“I’m on my way.”

Eddie turns off his phone and waits in the darkness for Buck to arrive. The moment he hears the key turn in the lock, he exhales a relieved breath and manages to smile when Buck appears in the doorway of the bedroom, hovering hesitantly, as though he expects that now he’s here, Eddie will change his mind and kick him out.

Eddie tries to sound exasperated, but it comes out sounding fond. “Buck, I really hope you didn’t come all the way here in the middle of the night just to crash on the couch.”

That makes him laugh and eases some of the tension from his shoulders. Kicking off his shoes, Buck moves over to the other side of the bed and lays down over the covers on his side, facing Eddie.

It should be uncomfortable, this level of intense intimacy that hasn’t been present in their relationship before. But right now, Eddie feels the most comfortable and relaxed he has in a while and he can only hope that Buck feels the same way, too. He reaches out, a little tentatively, to take Buck’s hand in his.

The other man stiffens slightly and he looks at Eddie with something like wonder in his eyes.

“Don’t make this weird, Buck,” Eddie murmurs, hoping to break some of the tension. It works, and Buck lets out a startled chuckle.

“God, you’re such an asshole.” But he complies, slotting his fingers through Eddie’s and squeezing tight. Eddie can remember him doing it in the firetruck on the way to the hospital and he swallows. He’s glad he has a better memory to replace that with.

Eddie closes his eyes, feeling a hazy, soft, sort of comfort settle into his bones, with Buck’s touch and just him, there, so close by. He can’t help but wonder why it took them so long, to give each other the comfort they each need.

“Buck?” He murmurs, without opening his eyes. Buck hums in reply. It feels strangely domestic and makes Eddie’s heart beat a little faster.

“I think I will go to see Frank,” He says. “But for myself, this time.”

Eddie can’t see Buck’s face when he replies, but can hear it, the tender, proud smile in his voice. “I’m so glad, Eddie.” He says, his voice cracking a little bit.

If Buck says anything after that, Eddie can’t hear it, as sleep pulls him under into the most restful night he’s had yet. And when he wakes in the morning, Buck curled around him, his face peaceful and serene in the golden sunlight, Eddie can revel in the fact that the feeling was mutual.

[mirinda03]

@leaflinerambles asked me for an essay so i complied

Here’s why c!tommy deserves better

Tommy Danger Kraken Careful Innit deserves better.

(All of this is about the characters btw. Sometimes i don't put c! Because honestly its a lot of putting that so just know that unless it says cc! I mean character)

Now, I know that can be a bit of a controversial take for.. some reason??? People may say that actually, he deserves to face the consequences of his actions and deserves to be punished.

. What the fuck.

That's a sixteen year old. That a teenager. He doesn't deserve to be 1. Abused 2. Traumatized 3. Manipulated 4. Used and 5. Taught a ‘lesson’ that i'm sure he’s been taught far fat too many times.

Tommy is a complex character. As we all know, he's regarded as the ‘protagonist’ of the dream smp or the ‘main character’. Now, of course, being the main character is a very subjective term and that is a whole other fucking essay that im not gonna get into right now—

BUT.

I do think in a way Tommy has been involved in a lot of the more.. main plots. From season one to season three.

And of course, with being the ‘main character’ (again, a purely subjective term because it depends on the point of view you watch) come a lot of things and a lot of trouble. Mainly, from our main ‘villain’ of the series.

C!Dream, the fucking bitch.

As we all know, c!Dream has had a weird obsession with c!Tommy since.. probably the beginning?

He liked to antagonize Tommy, but that wasn't exactly special. The man liked to antagonize everyone! He seemed to just want the most chaotic option, which of course ended with him antagonizing others often for his own entertainment.

I think, in a way, Dream always saw the smp as a game. His own little puppet show, where he could move the strings. He wanted complete control

But Tommy was more stubborn than the others. Tommy actively went against Dream from the start, like we see in the disc war. Or L’manberg, or during manberg, or new lmanb—

You get the idea.

Tommy never gave in, and Dream’s obsession grew.

So.. exile happened.

And like, i'm not sure what exactly dream was planning but i'm assuming he wanted to like.. ‘break’ tommy?? Make him more ‘compliant’ to his twisted game?

C!Tommy was, to put it simply, abused. No sugar coating, that was straight up abuse and gaslighting and manipulation. The burning his armor? Making sure no one got an invite? Keeping Tommy at low health? EVERYTHING??

That was all clear manipulation. Tommy.. went through a LOT in exile. It still affects him as we know. ‘Plain biomes, small holes, logstedshire’ among other things have been added to his list of stuff that sets him off.

(And also the waking up drowning?????)

And i know, Dream almost had tommy in his grasp. He almost broke him.

But Tommy resisted. Tommy pulled back at the last second, in that dirt tower. He was strong enough to realize what dream was doing was wrong an he ran from a toxic environment and situation and honestly? Good👏 for 👏 him 👏.

But the trauma stayed, in many ways. And even during the raccoonit arc, tommy didn't really.. get a chance to heal?

During the techno and tommy arc, tommy seemed to direct his hurt into lashing out at others. He got angry, he lashed out, and he hurt people. Even if im a tommy apologist, i can acknowledge that during his time of poor mental health he hurt other people and he had to apologize (and he did!! But im getting to that)

Now. I am.. very conflicted when it comes to techno and tommy’s relationship. I do believe that, somewhere deep inside, they both cared about each other. However, bias and fanon influence can get in the way so i'm not touching on that.

The one thing i'm saying? It wasn't exactly a healthy dynamic. And again, not saying anything because bias could get in the way, but Tommy realizing the error of his ways and realizing he HURT PEOPLE is such a huge milestone??

He took responsibility by joining tubbo again. He said how his trauma did not excuse shit and he acknowledged it and he tried to CHANGE.

Even when faced with people who exiled him, who shunned him or who weren't there to visit during exile, he decided to be better and he once again took the role of the troop rallier even when he KNEW how impossible the task would be. He SAW Techno’s wither skull vault. He knew it was a losing battle.

But he stayed strong. And he fought for L’Manberg, for the last reminder he had of Wilbur (and oh, wilbur and tommy’s relationship in canon is a whole other can of worms god—)

Just for it to get destroyed.

By his abuser, and two people he had trusted. People he RELIED on.

Blown, to the ground.

And then dream.

Dream saying their story isn't over. Their story would NEVER be over.

. Bone chilling. Genuinely so.

And still. He faced Dream. He faced his abuser, the person who in his own words ‘ruined him’ and he refused to back down.

He refused to let Tubbo die. He refused to lose.

And in the end, Dream was sent to jail. Retribution was sent!

.. right?

Wrong.

Because even after that, Tommy continues to be haunted by dream or by the literal CULTISTS trying to kill him.

And to top it all off, he gets fucking trapped in prison with his abuser surrounded by a bunch of triggers in a small cell. And have we mentioned how he's canonically claustrophobic?

Yeah.. that was bad.

One week. Trapped with his abuser.

And still, he stayed strong. Still, he refused to give in and stayed himself,

And what did he get for that?

Death.

Beaten to death by his abuser of all things.

And he was trapped in the void for two months. Two. Months.

But in the human world? It had only been days.

And he was so so shaken by it. He couldn't even touch other people, he couldn't take any damage, he was treated as a ghost by people, he was called a ‘science experiment’ and the one thing he wanted? Normality? It was taken away from his forever.

Again, by his abuser.

Hes a traumatized child soldier whos done plenty of wrong in his life, but he's also a kid who needs to heal and learn to have healthy relationships because one way or the other every healthy mentor figure in his life turned against him or got corrupted and now he feels alone and he DIED and he needs fucking therapy come on.

And we KNOW the dream isn't done. Far from it. We know dream will never, ever be done. He's too obsessed with the game, with his favorite toy to let the game end. To let the people rest

C!tommy is so broken and jaded and traumatized. But still, he chooses compassion. Despite the trauma, he refused to hurt his best friend. Despite it all, he refused to blow up him home. He stays true to himself and he stays strong and even when the world tries to mold him he doesn't break.

And believe me, the world tries to break him and mold him so many times. He’s been manipulated or used before by others, but he still keeps his attachments and he still keeps himself and i think thats fucking admirable.

So yeah. I wholeheartedly believe tommy deserves better as do the other members of bench trio because honestly they're also children and they all deserve to heal come ON.

But yeah thats the essay

[peppermintbee]

OMORI has poor writing (Part 1)

OMORI stans, just block the #omori hate tag now because I’m going to use it to vent my frustrations with this game. If you love this game, I am not going to try to convince you otherwise. I am glad you enjoyed it so much. I am glad it means a lot to you. I’m not here to take that away from you. I honestly wish I felt the same way!

However, if you are like me and finished the game feeling disappointed, underwhelmed, and maybe a little frustrated, then I am here to say you are not alone. OMORI--while having the right set pieces for an interesting game--is a narrative mess.

I’m splitting this into two posts. This first post is about problems with the plot. The second is about problems with the message/moral. 

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 1: Plot Writing Lies

There’s a book by Brian McDonald called Invisible Ink which is about how to write a compelling story (you can read this great book online for free here). There’s an explanation of the writing “lie” that I find myself frequently thinking of. A “lie” in this context does not mean something is literally untrue, it means something FEELS untrue, unrealistic, improbable, or unlikely. For example, if a character gets shot in the leg but manages to do parkour, this is a “lie” since it seems unrealistic for that to happen. If a character witnesses their beloved parent’s death and shrugs it off, it’s a “lie” because that reaction seems highly unlikely.

In OMORI, the plot is held together by multiple little lies that--try as I might--I just couldn’t bring myself to believe.

1. Sunny’s friends care about him, and vice versa

A major theme of the game is how friendship can overcome any obstacle. Friendship gets Sunny over his fear of heights, spiders, and water. Friendship is what Sunny remembers before the final boss fight, and allows him to face his guilt and defeat it (and prevent him from committing suicide). With the photobook and dialogue you are reminded over and over and over and over and over again that Sunny’s friends love him unconditionally.

However, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. The childhood memories are cute but shallow, boiling down to simply hanging out and eating treats. Plus, Kel and Aubrey fight constantly, with Aubrey even physically hitting Kel when he steps out of line. Hero and Mari behave more like babysitters than true friends to the younger kids. 

But at least the other kids interact with each other. Sunny, on the other hand, showed nearly no affection or consideration towards his friends. He floats through the memories like a ghost--he could have been completely absent from all the photos and it would have made little difference. I was ready to accept this as Sunny being an unreliable narrator and not thinking he was a good enough for his friends, but this never contradicted. Instead we are given even more memories where Sunny just silently exists there being “cute.”

[Sunny enriching the lives of his friends by LARPING as a cat.]

Because of the lack of meaningful interactions between them, there was nothing in the game that made me think that these 12-15 year olds would have a strong enough bond that would survive 3-4 years of no contact after finding their friend hanged. In fact, that discovery only drove them farther apart. The only person who I could believe actually had a close bond was Basil, who almost literally filled that trope of being the friend who would help you bury a body (or in this case, help Sunny cover up the accidental manslaughter).

The writing fix for this would be simple: instead of showing us the same boring birthday and beach scenes over again, give the kids memories of overcoming some age-appropriate adversity together: heartbreak over an unrequited crush, anxiety over homework, sports injury, lost dogs, divorced parents, running away from home, bullying, etc. Set a precedent of the friends supporting each other through good times AND bad times. Without such backstory, Sunny’s friendships allegedly giving him the courage to overcome his guilt feels like a lie.

2. Sunny abandoning Basil in the bathroom scene

One of the most confusing moments in the game was Sunny’s negligence when Basil has his first breakdown in his bathroom. This part of the game is player-controlled, which is a strange writing decision because all you can do is click on Basil and various bathroom amenities over and over which completely saps the urgency out of the scene. When you try to leave, Basil begs Sunny to stay, but (due to a lack of player options) Sunny walks out without a word. With no option to talk to him OR get help for him, it makes Sunny seem exceptionally cruel to Basil. In fact, I was starting to wonder if the game was setting up for some sort of twist that Sunny DIDN’T care about his friends, which would fix some of the confusion in point #1. However, as we know, that is not the case. Therefore, Sunny’s negligence/apathy towards Basil’s pain feels like a lie.

The writing fix would be to make it MORE clear that Sunny is intentionally running away from Basil. Make it a cutscene, or, give a false choice such as “Leave Basil? Yes / Yes”. After Sunny leaves, Kel should make some remark about Sunny looking odd, “You look sort of shaken up, is there something you want to tell me?” then hit it home with Sunny shaking his head. This would make it more clear that Sunny is intentionally hiding Basil’s state, as opposed to just being a bad friend. As it stands, it just felt like a writing mistake.

3. Basil and Sunny working together to stage Mari’s death as a suicide

This is the plot hole that I see the most complaints over, but it’s so big I have to address it. Accidentally pushing Mari down the stairs I understand, but the rest is too absurd. Below are some of the “lies” that the writing tries to get away with:

That Sunny and Basil wouldn’t just claim she slipped and fell.

That either boy would even come up with this sick plan.

That they wouldn’t back out of this idea during the multi-step process (carrying her downstairs, outside, getting the jump rope, tying a noose, putting it around her neck, stringing her up, hiding the evidence... This is a series of multiple decisions, not one quick accident like the initial push.)

That it’s not the image of Mari’s death that traumatized Sunny, but the image of what they chose to do to her body that traumatized them. I understand the image of Mari hanging is more dramatic, but they literally did it themselves so why is that more haunting than Sunny killing her?

That Mari’s true cause of death wouldn’t be immediately obvious to the parents, the police, the friends, EVERYONE. (I’ve seen fans try to get rid of this plot hole by hypothesizing that the parents knew and covered it up, but the evidence of this is circumstantial at best. The father saying, “You’re not my son,” is unreliable since it happens in Sunny’s headspace. Divorce is common after the death of a child, and, at the very least, Sunny’s mom doesn’t show any evidence of knowing what happened. The way it is written, only Sunny and Basil know the truth.)

The ridiculousness of this twist is so extreme that it completely broke any immersion I had left. Frankly, the reveal that the happy, loveable Mari committed suicide is a far heavier and more realistic twist than a crazy murder-cover-up story is.

Additionally, it seems like Basil was only written into this scene in order to make Sunny the true victim of what happened. After all, Sunny may have pushed her, but it was Basil who came up with the demented cover up. (This is apparent from just the photos but the datamined Truth Album confirms it.) By having Basil come up with the plan, the game splits the guilt between the two of them to make the kids easier to sympathize with. It’s problematic because if Basil was not in the scene, there would be no way to justify what Sunny did to Mari. So why is what they did easier to accept when they worked together?

Fixing the writing lie: Sunny lies and says that Mari slipped. Remove Basil from the scene, and instead have Sunny confide in Basil which forces Basil to become a co-conspirator and burdens him with the terrible truth.

4. Sunny’s friends forgiving him and Basil for what they did to Mari

Last but not least, the story heavily implies that Hero, Kel, and Aubrey will forgive Basil and Sunny for what they did to Mari. I found this to be almost as unbelievable as the staged-suicide stunt.

It feels like a lie since the group’s friendship is never established as anything beyond shallow hang outs from 3+ years ago (see point #1).

It feels like a lie because this is hot off the heels of Aubrey being so distraught over Mari and the following fall out that in the last three days she 1.) attacked Sunny and Kel with a nail bat TWICE, 2.) Stole Basil’s photobook, and 3.) Shoved Basil in the lake. This trauma is still very fresh for her.

It feels like a lie because the complexity of the staged-suicide is so extreme, one would be hard pressed to forgive ANYONE for doing that, be it friend, foe, parent, sibling, lover, etc.

I’ve seen fans argue that the ending is not about forgiveness, it’s about telling the truth, and I want to believe that. Really. If the ending was about Sunny starting his redemption arc by telling the truth no matter what the consequences are, that would be a meaningful lesson. But the writing does not support that. The ending headspace segments are focused on assuring Sunny that his friends will support/forgive him no matter what. To do this, the game shows us the shallow photobook memories (again) to show how much they allegedly care about each other. Then, when fighting Omori, Sunny remembers these quotes from his friends, which directly correlate to their unconditional support:

KEL: Friends... Friends are supposed to be there for each other.

AUBREY: I hope you can find some peace... or you know... some happiness.

HERO: We made the mistake of leaving each other when we needed each other the most. This time... we’ll stay together.

BASIL: Maybe one day... things can go back to the way they were before.

The really direct evidence that this ending is about getting forgiveness is this quote from Basil in Sunny’s headspace:

[BASIL: “AUBREY, KEL and HERO are good friends. You have to trust that they’ll forgive us.”]

This is one of the last scenes before Sunny tells his friends the truth, proving that obtaining forgiveness from his FRIENDS is in fact the leading motivation for Sunny’s actions.

Fixing this writing lie is easy. Instead, adjust the writing to be about telling the truth, not about how much the friends will still love Sunny. Have headspace Basil say, “Even if they don’t forgive us, Aubrey, Kel, and Hero deserve to know the truth. It’s the only way to make things right... or close to it.”

Conclusion

OMORI is undeniably a cute game with a strong visual identity, and has a premise that could make for a very compelling experience. However, the sloppy plot and weak character writing cause the potential of this game to be squandered. There are other issues as well that I chose not to cover for the sake of time, such as the poor pacing of the dragged out dungeons and the bizarre, unrealistic behavior of characters in the “real” world. 

However, there are a few more glaring problems with OMORI that I have to address: In part 2 of my critique, I break down what may be the biggest problem with OMORI’s writing: the message.

[ Link to Part 2: OMORI’s Message is Mishandled and Distasteful ]

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

The After Chronicles

Summary: After Earth and all of the planets around it were officially deemed uninhabitable, humanity was forced to move into massive spacecrafts carrying the new intra-galactic colonies. All was well until the universe-altering black hole, which tore through one of the last surviving intra-galactic communities and caused all of humanity to start over yet again. Two weeks later, things are beginning to return to normalcy, and people are finally returning home from the wreckage perimeter of the event horizon— among them, William Ortega, known more frequently as Willie, or Alex Mercer’s best friend. Alex has known him for years, known what a firecracker he is, so to see his friend return as though his light has been put out, well, it’s almost as disorienting as everything else that’s been going on.

Link to Masterlist

Word Count of Chapter: 1,353

———

Chapter 1: are you still starting fires?

Alex tries not to think about it too much.

This proves to be difficult, given he overthinks about, well, everything, and this particular thing is just. Too important.

Long story short, years ago, after Earth and all of the planets around it were officially deemed uninhabitable, humanity was forced to move into massive spacecrafts carrying the new intra-galactic colonies. Everything was fine until the supermassive black hole ripped through said colonies, and forced all of humanity to start from square one all over again. Now, two weeks after the black hole, things are finally getting back to normal; apartmentships are being rebuilt, the mallships are reopening, rocket sales have increased, and people are finally returning home from the rescue ships.

Willie still hasn’t shown up yet.

Willie, Alex’s best friend since Jamie Allston said his haircut looked stupid in the third grade and Willie loudly disagreed, the human firecracker, the kid with a promising future in skateboarding, the guy Alex has been quietly in love with since eighth grade.

His other friends tell him that it’s fine, because a bunch of people were still caught along the event horizon and needed rescue ships to take them back, and as far as the authorities know, no bodies were left behind.

But that doesn’t mean Willie couldn’t have been sucked in. Hence, the worrying.

(“Have you even heard of what happens to you when you get sucked into a black hole, Jules? It’s fucking spaghettification. He could be spaghettificated right now and we wouldn’t even know.”)

Today is the day that the rescue ships are supposed to make it back, though, and so now Alex is just patiently (read: impatiently) waiting at home to see if Willie will ever come back, or if he completely missed his chance to confess his feelings and will never get to see his best friend again. No big deal or anything.

Alex sighs, ignoring the faded blue cap on his nightstand as he heads out the front door.

•••

Alex grips the railing of the metal gate lining the edge of the rescue ship port, nearly bouncing with energy as the ships begin to unload. There’s a sizable amount of people who ended up getting stranded, so it takes him a minute to find Willie’s head among the crowd. Alex nearly bolts forward once he does, but the gate stops him and his boot slams into it, causing a large clanging noise to sound throughout the station. Pointedly ignoring the stares from the crowd of those waiting beside him, Alex sucks on his teeth and backs up a step from the gate. So much for subtlety.

After Willie makes his way around the gate, Alex finally runs over to him. He grips Willie by the shoulders and starts to chatter off, “Willie! Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re back, I- I’m so glad you’re okay even, you would never believe how fucking boring it’s been without— Willie?” Alex cuts himself off once he gets a good look at his best friend’s face. Willie’s barely even giving him a glance, biting on the inside of his mouth, rubbing his elbow with his thumb— he’s nervous, or at the very least uncomfortable, that much is obvious, but Alex can’t for the life of him think of why. He drops his hands. “What’s wrong?”

Willie shakes his head. “I’m just, really tired, I guess. Kinda just want to go home,” he replies half-heartedly.

“Oh,” Alex breathes out, and he tries his best to hide his disappointment. “Yeah. No, yeah, of course. I’ll take you there?”

“I mean, yeah, I kinda don’t know where it is anymore,” Willie responds, and ouch.

“Right.” Alex lets out a sigh, then continues as they begin walking, “Okay. So your apartmentship is still right next to mine, and honestly, most things are set up the same, it’s just a different galaxy and stuff, so it’s not too hard to get around.”

Willie throws him a noncommittal shrug. “Cool.”

“Yeah.” Yeah, this won’t be awkward at all.

•••

A shell of a person was not exactly what Alex had in mind when he said he wanted his best friend back, but apparently it’s what he’s getting.

He’s laying on the floor in Willie’s bedroom, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, while Willie sits on the edge of his bed, swinging his legs. There are a million words Alex would love to spew at his friend, but it feels like none of them are the right ones, none of them are the ones that will bring back the firecracker of a person he once knew.

He doesn’t get it, really; they both went through the same things, both experienced the same parts of the black hole. And sure, Alex was still shaken by it and is adjusting to the change (no matter how poorly said adjustment is), but he isn’t— he hasn’t closed himself off to the people he trusts. He hasn’t become an entirely different person.

And it’s hard, really, because Alex loved Willie; yes, there were romantic feelings there that he didn’t bring up as often, but even on a baseline level, he loved him. He loved the things that made Willie who he was, the spontaneity, the empathy, the humor, the drive, everything. It’s hard to know who someone used to be with those traits and not see them as someone else without them.

This doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Willie anymore, though. In fact, it’s almost the opposite. There are so many things Alex wishes he could do to help Willie, to care for him, to hug him, anything, but the very notion that he could lose Willie by choice rather than circumstance is enough to keep his mouth shut.

Alex is trying his best to bring Willie back to who he once was. He knows he might never fully get there; what they all went through was traumatic, and would have effects on them for the rest of their lives, but he’s trying at the very least to get a smile out of the other boy.

He’s gotten nothing.

He refuses to give up.

“Is there anything you want to do now that you’re back?” Alex asks, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look at Willie. “I’ve heard the new set up for the skate park is really fun, and there’s even an anti-gravity section—“

“I’m not really feeling it,” Willie interrupts. “I’ve kinda had enough of zero gravity at this point.”

The joke lies flat, a lull falling into what could barely be called a conversation, and it’s enough to make Alex’s anxious energy start leaking out. “You— you don’t even want to skate? That’s… like your favorite thing in the world, what’s up with you?” He asks, not accusingly.

Willie closes his eyes for a moment while he crosses his arms against himself. “Nothing’s up, I just don’t want to. Am I not allowed to do that now?” he responds, adding, “I’d rather just chill here. You can leave if you want to do something else, though.”

Alex splutters, “Wh— no, I never said that, I’m just—“ he takes a breath, looking down at the floor, “—I’m getting a bit worried about you. You’re not interested in anything you used to do, you’ve gotten quiet all of a sudden, and you barely even talk to me anymore.” He looks back up at Willie. “I’m supposed to be your best friend, Willie. You can tell me anything, you know I’ll always be here for you, right?”

Willie’s face hardens and he stops swinging his legs, pulling them up to hold them in his arms. “Maybe I don’t know that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and mumbles, “I think, I think I just want to be alone right now. You should leave.”

Alex doesn’t get how he could have fucked it up this bad, but he nods, gathers his bag, and heads out the door, more determined than ever to get his best friend back.

He ignores the blue cap again when he flops onto his bed.

———

taglist: @jealous-kippen @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @secretly-of-course @sylphrenas @julie-n-phantoms (ask to be tagged!!)

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 7: Tipping Point

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

You train with Kung Lao. This might be the final straw.

A/N: Next chapter is from Liu Kang's point of view. Also there will be a hilarious shopping chapter with Kung Lao and Chen at a reader's request. Hope everyone is doing well <3 Don't worry, there will be more fluff soon too.

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The rain had dried up while you were eating and conversation had quickly become less awkward. You had managed to separate what had happened with Liu Kang from your friendship with Kung Lao mentally. You cared about them so much. Somewhere along the line you’d decided that your friendship with them was the most important thing to have. No matter who you chose, you wanted to maintain those friendships.

Though you were pretty sure of what your heart wanted at this point. You’d been sure of it for some time. Since that night in the rain when Liu had wrapped his arms around you, as a matter of fact. It had felt like home. Nothing had ever felt like that before. You knew that no matter what happened next, things would be okay between you.

You also knew that what was happening to you was extraordinarily complicated and dangerous. That was your biggest hang up through all of this. When it came down to it, that was the true dilemma. Because whatever happened with Kung Lao and Liu Kang? That was something you could fix, something you could work on. You were all just people making human decisions. This thing with your arcana, however? That was beyond your control.

You didn’t want to hurt them. You didn’t want to hurt anyone. You would gladly lock yourself away if it meant keeping everyone safe.

Things between you and Lao relaxed once you’d mentally coached yourself on the reality of the situation. You felt sobered by your own thoughts. It was something that you attributed to Liu Kang. Perhaps it was because of how frequently he’d helped you find your calm or maybe it was just that his calming presence had rubbed off on you.

This would pass.

All things did.

Kung Lao had agreed, with very little convincing, to go with you tomorrow to the nearest city to get your ‘lady things’. He’d hated you using that term which was precisely why you’d used it. It would keep him from asking questions. He’d asked you about lady problems the other day with disdain so you figured it would be the best excuse. Then after breakfast you made your way to the fight pit.

“We’ll start with your shoulder. But afterwards we’re working on your arcana.”

“Why? Because the shoulder thing is boring?”

“Yes, obviously.” Kung Lao teased. He seemed relieved that you had shaken your weird mood. You were relieved too. That brief moment of panic had threatened to send you into a spiral. But it had passed and you were rather proud of yourself for it. “And because you’ve been avoiding it.”

“I know, I know. I psyched myself out for a bit there. No more avoiding it. I promise.” You’d changed into a gi to prepare for training. You would do your best to try and keep from overdoing it but if Kung Lao could help you get a hold of your arcana than it would be worth the strain. He was watching you skeptically as he kicked up sand in the fight pit. “I mean it. I want to get back to where I was before this. At least. I want to be able to give you and Liu a run for your money again.”

“It’s nice to hear you sounding more like yourself.” Kung Lao turned away from you but you could see the smile on his face before he did. It was like he wanted to hide it. Why? It didn’t much matter.

After that you spent some time working on your shoulder. He really did have a few exercises to help stretch the muscles and strengthen them. It’d hurt but it had been worth it. He also taught you a few strategies to avoid putting strain on it in combat when you needed to. It was nice that your styles of Kung Fu weren’t too terribly different. Kung Lao understood which stances would put strain where and you picked up the modifications easily. For the first time in a long time you felt competent and strong.

Even with your shoulder the way that it was after the incident with Raiden you had managed to find your footing. And you understood your limits. You moved with confidence. Kung Lao went easy on you after that even if he denied it when you confronted him for doing it. You imagined that it had been traumatizing for him to watch his childhood friend struggle for weeks on end. you considered that you both needed therapy.

“Now your arcana.” He dusted his hands off and then wiped them on his pants. With that familiar tug of the strap beneath his chin, he removed his hat and sliced with it through the air before crouching low and back into his stance.

“Was that necessary or… were you just showing off?”

“I’m going to show you how I use mine.” He flipped the hat in his grasp and then slipped it back on his head with a polite bow afterward.

“So, showing off. Got it.” You muttered but caught the smirk on his face.

“Arcana has an energy all its own. With time you learn to recognize it.” Kung Lao tossed the hat into the air and it spun around the perimeter of the arena, twisting through the air. He didn’t so much as look at it, it just did as he commanded it to. Kung Lao walked toward you and without looking, he reached out and the hat flew into his hand. He placed it again atop his head. “It’s a part of you. You have to treat it like it is. Another limb if you will.”

“I’m fairly confident that you’re just showing off.” You smiled. He chuckled beneath his breath then tossed his hat again. It flew behind you and with a twist, he disappeared into the ground in a white light and then reappeared behind you, hat landing perfectly atop his head. Then, arms folded behind his back, he leaned over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Now I’m showing off.” He clicked his tongue and then walked in front of you. “But I’m also making a point. I’ve been using my arcana far longer than you have. To me it’s second nature. We need it to be that way for you too. Sometimes that means getting in control of part of you that seems beyond it.”

“…kind of like when learning martial arts.”

“Exactly. Learning how to use parts of you as a weapon or a shield. Your arcana is no different except that without the dragon marking, you wouldn’t have it.”

“It’s like those exercises you made me do early on, right? It’s about control.” You had understood that to an extent but putting it into terms you understood, like martial arts, had helped considerably. You hadn’t felt in control of much of anything for a long time. In fact, the last few times you’d even tried to use your arcana it was as though the control had been ripped away from you. If you could become more in tune with your arcana then maybe when whoever it was that was manipulating you with this curse nonsense showed up again, they wouldn’t be able to use you as easily.

“I don’t think the sorts of exercises that Liu used are going to be helpful for what you do. Your arcana is different. His was dangerous at first too, just in a different way. I think that most arcana, by nature, will be dangerous.” Kung Lao smiled fondly, as though the idea delighted him. “My hat was obviously dangerous too. It’s not like zapping around like I do is exactly safe. Or easy.”

“The implications of that are awful, Lao.”

“All I’m saying is that there’s a learning curve to everything. Even for warriors like me and Liu.”

“Is this your way of trying to make me feel better about my arcana? You know that you can just be encouraging. That works just fine.”

“What I’m trying to say is that this is difficult in the beginning for everyone. You get the hang of it, like anything else. Your circumstances are definitely abnormal Y/N, but not that much so. I know that the past few weeks have been difficult for you.”

“Kung Lao, you don’t need to reassure me. I’m okay. Really.”

“No, I do, Y/N.” Kung Lao frowned, brow furrowed with compassion, with worry. Who were you to argue with him? “I can be hard on you but only because I know what you’re capable of. But the truth is that we understand this isn’t easy for you. Even just having the mark and learning to control your arcana is a difficult task. But these circumstances have made it that much more complicated. You’re doing a wonderful job, Y/N. It’s why Liu and I are so understanding. We’ve been there before.”

“I appreciate that, Kung Lao, really…”

“Raiden understands too. I know he can come off as harsh but I don’t want you to think that he…”

“No, okay, stop.” You laughed and took a step closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. He bowed his head apologetically. Serious Kung Lao made you uncomfortable. It was just such a rare thing. What had brought this on? You struggled to picture him having moments of self-reflection but you supposed that he must have. Not enough to tell you about the best that he’d made with Liu, but still. “Do you think that this has me upset? Unhappy?”

“Um… yes.”

“There are parts of it that I struggle with, of course. This curse thing sucks. The inability to get back on my feet sucks. Feeling like a ticking time bomb? Not in love with it. But overall? I’m grateful to be here.”

“Even after Raiden…” He mimicked the action of shocking you and you laughed, then patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“He did what was necessary. I’m not holding it against him. And I’m grateful to have come to Raiden’s Temple, Kung Lao. Yes, it was kind of traumatizing and is a little scary but also… I got my best friend back. I never thought in a million years there was even a chance of that. I know that things are different for us now but I’m also so grateful that it was you that found me that day. Grateful that it was you that came into my shop all those times. Whatever brought you back there, Lao, I’m just so damn grateful. And I’m grateful to have met Liu Kang. He’s a wonderful friend. I’m even grateful for the crazy gossipy monks down in the infirmary. And grateful for Raiden. He’s kind of fatherly, isn’t he? In a weird way?”

“He can be. And he seems fond of you. He isn’t usually so nice.” Kung Lao smirked but you could see the relief behind his eyes. Apparently, he’d been the one who had really needed reassuring. You were happy to provide it.

“Well, it’s hard to be mean to someone you almost killed.” You joked and Kung Lao laughed. “We got super off topic here. We need to focus.”

“Yes, that’s what we were talking about. Focus. And control.”

“We are terrible at this.”

“We need to decide what works for you.” Kung Lao took a step back. “Can you summon your arcana for me? Your sword, perhaps?”

“Sure.” You stepped back and focused. He was right. There was energy around you and it wasn’t the first time you’d felt it and recognized it as your arcana. It was about focus and control. You could do that. In fact, you had excelled at both of those things. Being a teacher, you’d needed to be focused and controlled. You could do this. Especially today.

You had plenty of focus and control.

Without so much as a wave of your hand, you summoned your jian in a swell of ink. It dripped down your hand and formed the hilt and then the blade. It didn’t drain you and you smiled. It felt natural to do, like the sword was an extension of you. You flipped the hilt in your palm and then back again. Then you dropped into your stance and used your other hand to beckon Kung Lao to come at you for a fight. But he didn’t. Instead he clapped in a slow and unimpressed way.

“Now do more.”

“Excuse you? You said to summon my sword. I did that.”

“I want you to try and recreate me again.” He looked rather excited about that and your cheeks flushed.

“I don’t know how I did that, Kung Lao. I needed help and you weren’t there and I was worried that you’d been hurt too badly and then suddenly… ink you to the rescue.”

“I was your hero then, huh?”

“Don’t read into it, Lao.”

“You were worried about me too? Wow, a lot to unpack here, Y/N.” Kung Lao was trying not to look terribly smug and doing a terrible job at it.

“I mean, you are human, Kung Lao! Being thrown through a door and then a wall and then a door… that takes a toll on a man, I would imagine.”

“I’m still pretty bruised up, honestly.”

“I would imagine.”

“Well, I want you to try that again but without being in peril. You can’t rely on something like that in a panic. You need to be able to control it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I have a few ideas I can try. I don’t know if they’ll work but I’ll try.”

“When we’re finished, if you’re still worried about me then I’ll happily let you check me out.” He grinned and walked further away from you. You flushed but held your tongue. He was baiting you. Kung Lao enjoyed bickering with you. You knew that already and now wasn’t the time to give in. You were so terrible at staying on topic today. You had to focus! You were feeling so good about your strength and your arcana. You wanted to take advantage of that. Besides, flirting with Kung Lao was on a list of things that were difficult to deal with.

You focused on the ink, remembering how it had coated your fingertips in direr moments. You willed it to do just that and were pleased when it obeyed. It spread up to your shoulders. Your arms and fingers were stained black. Then you used your index finger to draw another sword and it materialized with your will. Slow, bored applause from Kung Lao again. It was like a pen. That was your true weapon, you’d decided. That gave you another idea.

What about words? Would words have power? You spelled the first thing that came to mind.

Fire.

Just like that, the word floated before you and then burst into flame. Kung Lao laughed, eyes wide with delight.

“What? No! Do it again.”

“Uh, okay…” You laughed and spelled ‘hat’, visualizing Kung Lao’s hat as you did. It materialized and clattered to the ground. Kung Lao made his way back to you and picked up the hat. It stained his fingertips, but he was able to toss it. It splattered against the wall but the ink didn’t stain the stone. Instead it decayed into a frail gray substance, like ash, before disappearing on the wind.

“You could create anything with that.” Kung Lao seemed to mentally be rattling through the possibilities. You were sure that it had limitations. Even as you considered what to make next, you could feel that it had drained you. Maybe that was your limitation. The ink would exhaust you before you created anything too catastrophic. That was a fair trade off. You could find a way to manage the weariness that went with your arcana.

He wanted to see that drawing of him again.

So you wrote his name and you could feel the excitement radiating off of him.

Kung Lao.

He stepped into his stance, face blocked out by his hat and ready for a fight. You focused your energy into his name and then the words spread out into a dome and created his hat. From the hat came the image of Kung Lao in a great leap. You gasped and covered your mouth. The ink was shaky so you focused harder.

The drawing of Kung Lao ducked into the same stance as Kung Lao. Then you had the drawing rush at him and feint left before attacking. Kung Lao blocked the attack and you maneuvered the ink duplicate, trying to remember the way that your father fought, the way that you knew Kung Lao fought. But the ink duplicate moved on instinct. You didn’t have to control it like it had strings. It had your knowledge of him.

That was until it stopped attacking Kung Lao and turned toward you. You willed it to turn back around but it didn’t obey you. What the hell? It approached you aggressively, using its hat as a blade with a spin.

“Whoa, hey, what gives, Y/N?” Kung Lao walked around the image of himself but then ducked out of the way as it sliced toward him. “Hey! Cut it out!”

“I’m not doing it!” You stepped back nervously as the drawing continued toward you. You stumbled in the sand and sunk your feet to get your balance but instead, you dropped through the ground into darkness.

You knew that hadn’t really happened. This was a feeling you recognized now.

You were having a vision.

Well, this was terrible timing.

You stood in a frozen wasteland. Everything around you was coated in a thick layer of ice. It looked like it had been a warehouse once. But then you caught sight of training equipment. A gym. You’d seen big gyms like this in the city but you had no idea where it was. Everything was so coated in ice that you couldn’t make out any of the signs. You were freezing.

In the distance, there was the sound of combat but it was muted, like you had cotton in your ears. You tried to get closer to the sound but had no real control over anything. Whatever this vision wanted to show you, it would show you whether you liked it or not. It was like you were on rails. It was cruel. To have felt like you had regained so much control only to have it stripped away from you. It was like something was playing an awful game with you where you always lost.

You refused to let it crush you.

Whatever your ink was doing outside of your vision you had faith that Kung Lao could handle it.

Two men fought, both masked and unnatural. This was beyond your understanding. One man was made of fire and the other was made of ice, holding a blade of the same ice. They were armored. They fought so quickly that you could barely make out what they were doing. Their movements were blurred in streams of ink. The fiery warrior sliced with a blade but the man made of ice blocked every blow. He then twisted the fiery man and threw him into a wall of ice that shattered. You ducked out of fear of the ice but again, you had no body, really. You weren’t actually there.

Their fluid fighting was a terrifying dance. They were both so threatening. These two men, whoever they were, were the most skilled martial artists that you had ever seen. There was a crashing sound behind you but when you turned to find the source, the world melted into a haze. You didn’t know what anything meant anymore. Sometimes the visions were so vague and blurry that they were barely visions at all. Maybe that thing in your head didn’t want you to see this particular vision.

When you opened your eyes again, you were staring into darkness. You could move again and you were awake but where were you? It was so damn dark. There was sand beneath where you laid. You were still in the fight pit! Distantly, you could hear Kung Lao fighting but there was a spinning wall of darkness between you and him. What the hell?

There was a vortex of ink swirling all around you, thick and slow moving. It muted all other sounds with a roar. Your heart was pounding out of your chest but you focused like Kung Lao had taught you. But no matter how you focused, the ink didn’t budge. You had no control over any of it even if you could feel that it was your arcana. It drained you just existing.

You touched the vortex in hopes that you could run through it to the other side but it sliced at your fingertips as though the vortex was made of ink needles. Was it protecting you? And if so, from what?

“Kung Lao!” You shouted but you couldn’t hear anything but the muted chaos of combat beyond. What had you done? What had you summoned? “Kung Lao!” You screamed to him but there was nothing. He probably couldn’t hear you.

Okay. Deep breaths.

You focused on your arcana. It spread up your hands and over your arms. You would draw a way out if you had to! As you made to draw a door, the ink was swept away from your arms and the tornado consumed it and roared threateningly, as if you had fed it. Maybe it wasn’t protecting you. Maybe it was imprisoning you. Your heart was slamming with panic in your chest. This couldn’t be happening! It couldn’t! You had to get this under control.

But you were panicking.

Maybe you were better off without the mark. Maybe you should be locked away so you couldn’t put anyone else in danger!

Then there was a horrible, loud ringing in your head.

You held your hands over your ears to try and escape it but it was in your head so there was no escape. It was so loud that it was making you feel sick. Your legs wobbled so you shrunk down into a crouch and tried to breathe through the painful sound. It reminded you of the dolorous ringing of the bell. The bell that had cracked along with your shoulder. That was it. It was the bell. Your shoulder was aching so much so that you could have collapsed. But you refused to fall.

This wouldn’t take you again.

It wouldn’t hurt you again!

“Who are you?” You yelled in frustration. Because that was what was happening. There was someone else there, something else there, that horrible demonic thing was destroying you, using you. “Who is doing this? Face me, coward!” You taunted in hopes of drawing it out. You didn’t think it would work but the ringing stopped. You managed to stand up but your legs were trembling beneath you. “Who’s doing this?” You shouted again but suddenly you weren’t alone. You expected the demon to walk right out of the ink.

But it wasn’t the demon.

Instead the icy warrior from your vision stepped out of the ink of the vortex, made of the same ink that formed it. He was dripping with it but you could see the details of his outfit his armor, his mask imprinted in the ink. The air became frigid within the vortex. You knew now that he had been the one that had coated that whole gym in ice. How powerful was he that he could do that? And who was he?

Panic shot through you but you stepped back, careful not to back into the vortex. How? How did whoever was manipulating you have such a hold on you? What kind of curse could do this? Who had this kind of power? It was too dangerous for you to have arcana. Too dangerous for you to be in Raiden’s Temple. Too dangerous for you to have the mark. You were dangerous.

You summoned your sword. The vortex tried to consume the ink, as if hungry, but you refused to allow it. It took nearly all your strength and the aching in your shoulder spread into your chest but you refused to give in. You yelled in frustration and charged at the man who stood threateningly before you. He summoned a blade of shadow and ice and stabbed toward you with a graceful twist. You blocked but barely. His icy blade left shards of ice on your sword and it spread toward your hand. You tried to shake it off but the jian shattered and you let go of the hilt. The vortex devoured the remains of your sword.

You summoned another but the panic was making you shake.

You had to stop it. Something had to stop it.

If you had to then you would do something drastic. You wouldn’t let your arcana destroy everything.

[xsarcasticwriterx]

I hate you

Summary: In a world where your enemies name appears on one wrist and your soulmates appears on the other but what happens when it's the same name on both

Pairing: loki x reader

Warnings: fluff but some major angst at end, swearing,

Notes: Finally not bucky pfft anyways i got this idea from a post I saw on instagram hope ya like it :) oh and this takes place during ragnarok and infinity war also yes i know the lines aren't the exact same but i tried to keep it similar.

You hated loki no hate wasn't strong enough you despised the god. With his tricks and mischief. with his knifes and need to simply be an absolute dickbag. all of this is what made the position you were put in even more confusing and messy.

You stared down at your wrist looking at the names well name. singular. The names were supposed to be one of your enemy and one of your soulmate which of course frustrated people to the end of which name suppose to take what role. Yours might seem simpler but it made it more complicated.

there was one name. loki. It sat on both your wrist being there since the day you were born. at first it confused you and your parents why the name was the same. Then the confusion grew when a few days later a prince was born named loki odinson. 

So your enemy was loki but was also your soulmate. The more you were around loki the more you understood the enemy part of it. He'd pull mean pranks and constantly pester you. you assumed the names on his wrist were in the same case as yours making his constant bother make sense.

Of course now wasn't the time to rehash all of that. you currently were going through something that felt similar to an acid trip. They spoke something of the grandmaster and how this planet was created or whatever. you simply felt sick and like someone stuck your brain in a blender. 

you open your eyes not even realizing you had closed them at some point. looking around you are sat next to thor and in front of you is a strange man with eyeliner who looks like a dude going through a midlife crisis. 

behind you are rainbow guards. confused you turn to lowkey who looks just as confused as you. “well aren't these two just marvelous. he and a she right?” he ask looking up at a girl. she nods “yes he and she” she smiles at you two. “see this is why your amazing. what do i always say when she shows up it starts with b” he says looking to another girl. “trash” she says glaring at the other girl. “wha- no were you just looking to call her trash that doesn't even start with b” he said confused and shaken. “booze hag”

you cant help but snicker at this. “I- what no i'm sorry i always say your the best god. she brought me my champion y'know” he says with a smile. “so you say every time shes here.”  she replied jealousy thick. “how much for them” grandmaster ask. this shakes you up and throws even thor off guard. “hi yes excuse me were not for y'know sale”  you say like its an outlandish thing. “10,000″ the girl says. “I am not for sale” thor says ripping his arms out of the chair. “ooo a fighter I like it” he says then the girl presses a button and thor is shaking like he was tased. 

“Y'know actually i think i'm ok being sold off can I just nooot have that happen to me?” you ask with a wide grin. “I like her shes funny” get her out of the chair” the grandmaster says. “give her the credits hurry” with a grumble the girl gets paid. “you will pay for this.” thor says to the scavenger. “no I got paid for this.” she says smugly walking off. your chains are released and you stand up rubbing your wrist. “do you got any lotion or anything cause that shit made my wrist all dry” you say nodding towards the chair. 

“Get the girl some lotion go go” he says to the other. “come follow me” he says after you get handed some lotion. you walk into a room full of people thor following behind on his chair. The room seems like a party people are chatting music is blasting. “I am the god of thunder!” thor says. tiny thunder comes out his fingers making you chuckle. His hammer being broken but be affecting him more than expected. “well there's no thunder but you did create little sparkles there.” he says walking to a dj panel.

“hey y/n get me out of here” thor whispers to you. “Man i don't even know how i got out ok guess you gotta just be awesome like me” you look around and spot someone who for once actually made you smile “or like loki apparently.” you point out to thor. “loki!” he yells. you hit thor's arm “shut up” you say. loki looks at you two confused.

“loki!!” thor says happily. you simply facepalm you didn't want to talk to loki nor did you want grandmaster from finding out you know him especially if he's caused as much chaos here as he has on asgard. loki looks concerned and does a fake smile and goodbye before walking towards yall “shhh sh” he says. “what are you doing here” he ask “Me and y/n were put in a chair she was released wheres your chair?” thor ask. “i didn't get a chair” loki whispers back. “well get me out of this one” thor ask “i cant.” “get me out” “I cant” they debacle before you interrupt “how did you get here?” you ask. “I was here a few weeks ago I gained his trust i know hes strange but im in the good with him” loki says.

“what are we whispering about” Grandmaster sneaks up on yall. “jesus fuck what are you a mouse?!” you ask feeling your heart pounding like drums. “you know this lord of thunder?” grandmaster ask loki. “god of thunder heh tell him” thor says nodding. “i've never met this man in my life” loki says with a nervous smile. “their brothers” you chime in “adopted” loki clarifies. you smile at the grandmaster. “well if you want to get back to assguard or-” grandmaster starts “asgard” thor clarifies. “Only those who defeat me beloved champion can leave.”  grandmaster said with a smile. “just send him that way he’ll stab whomever whatever to get back home” you say. thor nods with a smirk.

and off he goes. not long after loki nods towards where thor was sent and you nod back. As much as you hate loki it was nice having 2 familiar faces here. You walked after loki and snuck into the room. loki was making hand gestures as thor threw a rock through him. “course” you say with a shake of your head. loki and thor look towards you. “why did i actually think for once you'd be nice and actually be here” you say rolling your eyes. “Never put faith in my brother to be nice” thor says throwing another rock through loki. loki rolls his eyes “You don't want my help then i'll just go.” loki says turning around then turning back. “I haven't seen this champion but i know he is unstoppable and terrifying. I have placed a large wager against you won't let me down.” loki says walking off.

“He's right ya know, loki, this champion is a champion for a reason and you don't have your hammer anymore you cant even do your cool lighting trick you barely got it out your fingers...just don't get killed out there please. Loki won't admit it but he cares about your dumbass and so do i so do us both a favor and don't get killed” you say walking out the room. loki was right at the other side and rolled is eyes. “that was cheesy” he says. “shut up i just don't want you to be more annoying than usual if he fucking dies.” you reply with a grumble.

Soon enough the battle comes and you sit next to loki. your nerves become evident the more time passes. loki puts a hand on your bouncing leg. slowly it calms down. his hand stays there as thor walks out. you gulp deeply. they announce the champion and out walks.....hulk? “I have to get off this plant” loki says starting to walk off. you giggle. loki's experiences with hulk were far from fun.

“where are you going?” grandmaster ask walking loki back to his seat. “Hey! I know him! hes a friend from work!” thor says yelling. you bite back a smile. “ahem yea we kind of all work together” you say with a smile to grandmaster. his smile falters. loki looks nervous. as much as you wanted to laugh at his pain hulk throwing you around can be quite traumatic. “hey you're up here...hes down there” you say “hes not coming after you ok hes controlled its ok.” you say to loki. he nods.

The fight goes on and right when you see an end that scared you thor got his powers and blasted hulk. “oh shit” you mumble. “of course” loki mumbles. thor lost the fight that's the summary of it. You and loki ended up wondering the place. “shouldn't we try to find thor?” you ask. “if you want thor i can take you to him but i figured id take you somewhere” loki said. “uh yea sure” you said with a shrug. 

You a loki end up at the top of a mountain the view looks beautiful. the sky was many shades of blue from dark to light. “this is...this is beautiful” you say. “yes it is” he replied looking at you. you turn to him seeing him look at you. you smile...maybe loki wasn't so bad after all.

Then an alarm goes off “My precious champion is missing that seductive lord of thunder as stolen him” a hologram of grandmaster says. “shit....thor” you say. “follow” loki says. he grabs your hand and you two end up in the grandmasters office him and the scavenger who brought you and thor is there debate who can bring thor and hulk in faster. “Well i come as a pair” loki said holding your hand up. “uhhhhhh suppose so?” you say with a shrug. “i woke up wanting an execution but ill settle for this little ‘who gonna get him first’” grandmaster says. 

you three walk out. “now why would you help my brother escape” loki ask “I help no one but myself” she replies. loki and her end up fighting as you just sit back and watch what can be said watching loki get his ass handed to him was fun. when she knocks him out she looks to you. “do i have to knock you out too? or i can just use this.” she says holding the remote. “uh see i'm not really with him but ya see he makes a great partner in crime but ill just follow willingly.” you say putting your hands up. “good choice” she says.

“Should probably get your name if your going to take us hostage” you say. “valkyrie” she says. you two walk in silence into a room as she ties him up. “i’ll be back keep him there” she says walking out. you sit next to loki and sigh. “your my soulmate...you? i don't know if i have the worst luck.....no i have the best luck.” you say with a smile. one of his sleeves is slightly up and you can see your name on his wrist. “how did we get stuck like this...together.” you ask. loki looks so peaceful asleep. this trip has made you see a vulnerable and kinder loki.

you kiss his cheek before seeing him squirm. his eye open and he looks around. “course she made you babysit” he grumbles. aaaaand he ruined it. you roll your eyes. “shut up and make this easy on both of us and just stay.” you say. “what am I a dog?” he says with a huff. “well you were a snake one time” you say laughing at the memory. he laughs “fair enough” he replies. He starts to say something else when the doors open. thor and bruce walk in. “y/n!” he says excitedly. “Bruce” you say happily hugging him. You two had been close before he disappeared to well here. loki grumbles and bruce turn to him. “last time i saw you, you were ready to kill us where are we at now?” bruce ask. “it varies moment to moment” loki replies. 

bruce looks at you concerned. “he's on our side for now.” you say sitting next to loki. “look we need to get out of here.” he points to a portal outside “through there” he says. “through the devil's anus?!” valkyrie ask. you burst out laughing. “I wasn't aware it was called that when i picked it” thor says slightly embarrassed. “well we need a ship mine wont make it through that” valkyrie says.

They then nerd out about ships as loki struggles in his chains. “Don't even try there stuck there” you whisper to him. he sighs and gives up. “I just so happen to know the codes to grandmasters ship keep” loki says. “and your just ready to help?” valkyrie ask “i have run out of favors with grandmaster sO” he says and sighs. you side eye loki suspicious. he smiles you and you look to the others. 

“what the worst he betrays us? Would just be another day with the odinson boys.” you say standing up. So that was that. You,thor, and loki would go get the ship. you two were at a door when thor started “I suppose we should talk.” he said. “i disagree,open communication was never our family's forte” loki said. “you have no idea quite the revelation sense we last spoke” thor says

“hello” thor says to the people...things that see you 3 come in. “hi” loki says making you smile “sup” you say before you 3 blast them. “Odin brought us together” loki says as you 3 hide from the shot fired back. “Its almost poetic that his death should split us apart.” loki continues. you sigh “loki why are you so prominent on keeping this angsty wall of yours up” you grumble earning you a side eye. you three then finish them off walking to another key pad. “We might as well be strangers now” loki says ignoring your statement.

“Two sons of the crown, set adrift” loki says. you'd love to say something or really just slap loki so he stops pushing his brother away further and further with every words but you let him continue. The door opens and a man points a gun at loki making him backup and you giggle as thor blast him to the ceiling. “thought you didn't want to talk about it” thor says walking into the elevator. loki puts a finger up “here's the thing” he says stepping over the body. you roll your eyes and follow.

“im probably better off staying here on sakaar.” loki says. that's not what he wants. you stare at thor which he clearly doesn't get cause he then says “That's exactly what I was thinking” 

loki makes a stunned face and looks shocked and confused. “Did you just agree with me?” he says shocked. you hit loki's shoulder “what its surprising” you roll your eyes. “come on this place is perfect for you. its savage,chaotic,lawless. Brother you're gonna do great here.” thor says matter of factly. you title your head up and sigh. “morons” you grumble earning two confused looks.

“Do you truly think so little of me?” lokie ask. you shake your head. they really are stupid aren't they. “Loki, i thought the world of you.” thor says. finally now loki dont fuck this up. loki's face soften ups and you smile at it. “I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever” thor continues. come oooon.  “but” fucking hell thor. “at the end of they day your you and i'm me” thor says with a shrug. loki looks hurt now. “i don't know maybe there's still good in you. but lets be honest our paths diverged a long time ago” he finishes. fucking hell thor you just had to go and fuck it up. loki contemplates what was just said looking between the floor and thor. 

he sighs and nods. his face is full of hurt. you grab his hand softly and give him a small smile which he reciprocates. you may hate loki which lets be honest even that was falling apart but you still wanted him happy. you hated how hurt he looked. like a kicked puppy. “yea...it's probably for the best that we never see each other again.” loki says voice full of pain and almost desperate for thor to deny the allegations.  “that's what you always wanted” thor says patting loki. “yall are the most idiotic gods there could be” you say taking thor off guard. loki simply laughs. thor shakes his head and turns back to the front.

“hey lets do get help” thor says happily. this wipes the hurt from loki and replaces it with confusion. “what?” he ask “get help.” he says again. “no.” loki says shaking his head. “come on, you love it” thor says excitedly. “I hate it” loki says shaking his head again. “Its great it works everytime” thor says “its humiliating loki says swinging his hands bringing attention to you two holding hands. This earns a smirk from thor before he says “You have a better plan?” he ask.

“no” loki says. “were doing it” thor says with a smile. “we are not doing get help” loki says matter of factly. next thing you knew loki was limp over the shoulder and thor was yelling get help before throwing loki at the guards. you laughed falling onto your ass. “see this is why i didn't want to do it” loki says nodding to you. “im im ok im good” you say trying to stop laughing. you get up but not far before loki does as loki does and betrays yall. he twitches on the floor and thor walks off. “i'm gonna stay here with him” you say. thor looks suspiciously at you before carrying on. 

“if you just hadn't been so stupid and said how you felt and what you wanted from thor we wouldn't be here and now im stuck taking care of your dumbass once again. God i don't even know why i stay anymore when all you do is exactly what would hurt me what you trying to fulfill the enemy part of our deal?” you ask lifting up your sleeves showing the two loki names. “I mean really loki why do you keep doing this please just explain it to me. I started to see a side of you the side that I actually cared for and saw us being real soulmates but then you pulled this crap again and now i don't even know what to feel.” you say before the doors bust in. a rocky man and a group of others walk in. picking up the remote and stopping loki's twitching. Loki looks at you with soft eyes before turning back to the men smuggly. “you look like your in desperate need of a leader” he says. you huff and he looks at you and smiles.

“why thank you” the group says. With that y'all are off on a ship. “sooo where are we running to now” you ask loki. “no more running were going to asgard and were going to kill my sister.” he says with a nod. you smile. you grab lokis shoulders throwing him off. “whatd i do?” he ask. for the first time ever he seems like he'd do anything for you. “nothing” you say with a smile. you kiss his cheek. he looks around confused before clearing his throat. “ok good um ok” he says turning to the panel. you giggle before walking to chat with the others. finally you arrived at asgard which is on fire and surrounded by death. “read?” he ask. you grab his hand. “always” you say turning to him. he smiles and nods. the ship door opens and you all run out and attack.

when the fight seems like a dead end thor blast the whole kingdom with lighting and launches himself out to the bridge. loki smirks slightly which you see and smile yourself. “your late” thor says  “your missing an eye” loki says. “ok enough let clear these out and-” you start before hela emerges. what the actual fuck. “hit her with lighting” loki says. “I just hit her with the biggest lighting bolt and she acted like it was nothing” thor yells. “wait....what if this isn't about stopping ragnarok.  what if it was about causing it”

thor looks at loki who looks surprised. “this is insane even for me” he says walking off. “Loki!” you yell. he turns around. you grab him and kiss him. its soft and its like the world stopped just for a moment before you have to pull away. “don't get killed” you say. he nods and smiles “anything for you darling” he says with a wink before running off. thor clears his throat. “let's fight” you say. with that you and valkyrie fight with the others as thor hold hela off. you worry for loki how he’ll get out.

Then ragnarok emerges and fire is everywhere. hels is distracted and you and the others run into the ship. flying away Taika says something about the foundation. then it explodes. a few minutes later loki is next to you. “hello darling” he says. you smile and grab onto loki pulling him into a hug. “loki thank god” you say pulling away. you kiss him deeply. “don't ever do that shit again” you say.

You all spend 3 months flying around before coming across a teeny tiny issues heh. you sat in a pool of blood of your friends. people you grew to care about. you tried to scream but were muffled by the guard on your mouth. After the 1st scream they put the guard on to stop the noise. thor was tied down. Heimdall was dead and hulk had been blasted away.  You tried to scream again but it stopped as soon as it exited.

Thanos had just decided earth was where needed to be next. “if i might interject, if you are going to earth you might want a guid” loki says appearing. he walks towards thanos. “I do have a bit of experience in that arena” loke says walking up to thanos “if you consider failure experience” thanos said. “I consider experience experience” he said firmly. “All mighty thanos, I loki, prince of asgard, odinson, the rightful king of jotunheim,god of mischief.” he starts spewing off his titles. you see him make a knife appear and you try to scream once again. “Do hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity.” he says starting to power before trying to stab thanos. thanos stops it. “undying” thanos says. “you should choose your words more carefully.” thanos says as he forces loki to drop the knife. 

Thanos grabs loki by the neck chocking him. you scream but no sound escapes. tears flood your eyes. “you will never be a god” loki says with his last breath before thanos snaps his neck. thor tries to scream too bt fails.thanos walks over and drops loki's body. “no resurrections this time” he  says before lighting everything on fire and leaving. with that your guards are released. you run to lokis body. 

you sob and scream. “y/n” thor tries. “shut the fuck up thor” you yell at him through gritted death. you hold loki. your enemy, your nemesis but more importantly your soulmate. rolling up his sleeves you see the one with your name. grabbing the other you see a different name. Luca. you knew him he was annoying as hell. of course now he was another corpse among the rest. you weren't his enemy. He was only yours. Everything he did everything that annoyed you was him trying to be close but in loki's own way. Loki Laufeyson. your enemy and your one true love.

[ieattaperecorders]

Something's Different About You Lately - Epilogue: Borrowed Time

Life goes on, impossibly.

Read on Ao3

---

Martin shifted the bag of groceries in his arms as he climbed the stairs, still feeling a bit nervous.

The dinner had been Jon's idea – his O&M instructor was covering kitchen skills, and he'd thought it would be fun for the two of them to try making something together. The recipe had sounded a little elaborate to Martin, who'd protested that he didn't cook much, but Jon promised that it wasn't beyond them. He added that Martin was ‘perfectly capable' in the kitchen anyway, and said it with such prim, knowing confidence that Martin hadn't even bothered to ask. Before he knew it, he was writing down a list of ingredients to bring over.

He supposed that was just going to keep happening, Jon telling him things about himself. It was . . . strange. Sometimes it was endearing, sometimes just annoying. Occasionally it made him feel sentimental and a little bit sad in a way he couldn't put his finger on.

The door to the flat opened after a moment of knocking, and he smiled as Jon appeared.

"Hi Jon, it's Martin," he said. He'd read online it was polite to say your name, to not assume the other person will recognize your voice. "I've got the groceries."

"I know it's you, Martin." His tone was light and a little condescending, and Martin felt heat rise to his ears. "Come on inside. You know where the kitchen is."

Martin slipped past him and set down the bag, pulling things out and arranging them on the counter as Jon followed him to the kitchen.

"The store was out of chili paste," he mentioned.

Jon shrugged. "We'll improvise, then."

"If you say so."

Jon began taking out cookware, placing things down wherever he found counter space. "Do anything interesting today?" he asked, over the clatter of pans.

"Not especially. Filled out a few applications, then took a walk," he said. "Met a really friendly dog in the park."

"Flattered that you tore yourself away to come here."

"Wasn't by choice, her owner wouldn't let me keep her."

"How unreasonable."

It was weird, not having to worry so much about money. Not that Martin was complaining of course, but there was still a voice in his head telling him he was being too slow and selective in his job search, that it was lazy of him. And he felt anxious dipping into the new funds too much.

He'd just about gone into conniptions when Sasha told him what she'd done while she'd been fiddling with Elias's computer. Embezzlement might not have been an escalation when they were already committing arson, but they could still get caught, and wouldn't a financial windfall point a lot of suspicion towards them? But she kept assuring him that it was untraceable, some hidden fund Elias had, ready to be drawn on by anyone with the account information. The running theory was that he'd been keeping it for his next identity, which . . . yeah, the less Martin thought about that, the better.

Fear of discovery aside, he couldn't deny it was nice having a buffer like this. There was space he'd never had before to think about where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do with himself. And with the bills taken care of, Jon could focus his time on recovering. At the urging of his O&M teacher (and some amount of prodding on Martin's end) he'd even started talking to a counselor every few weeks. It was ostensibly just about handling the emotions that come up with sudden, traumatic vision loss, and he doubted Jon would be discussing the more exotic traumas he'd been through. Still. It was probably good he had something like that.

They went about the business of prepping ingredients, talking idly about food, things they'd done in the past few days, updates from Tim and Sasha. Martin's initial nerves already dissolving into the steady flow of conversation. There was something comfortable, he reflected, in being around someone who was so comfortable with him.

"Would you mind--" Jon frowned, fiddling with the hob on the stove. "I've got this, I'm fairly sure. Just . . . make sure I keep the pan centered?"

"Sure."

He came to stand behind Jon, watching over his shoulder as he set the carefully oiled pan on the stove and turned on the heat. Martin was a terribly distracted spotter, his attention frequently straying from the pan to look at Jon's face, pinched slightly in concentration. There was a single bead of sesame oil on his cheek, and it made his intensely serious expression that much more charming.

Despite his concerns, Jon had the pan well handled as he heated the oil and added in the aromatics. Martin only noticed him drifting once, the flames going high on one side of the pan.

"A little left," he advised.

In a moment of impulse and bravery, Martin curved an arm around him – placing a hand on his elbow, then running it down his arm to cover Jon's hand with his own, guiding the pan carefully into place. Jon leaned back, fitting the curve of his body into Martin's and sighing deeply.

"God, I've missed this," Jon exhaled. "Just . . . cooking dinner with you. All these little domestic things."

His voice was so unselfconsciously fond. It made Martin dizzy, just how easily affection poured out of him.

In hindsight, at least part of Jon's strange, awkward behavior around Martin had been a result of him holding back, wary of letting his feelings show. He never held anything back now -- his demeanor going from nonchalant or haughty to unbelievably soft and loving at the slightest prompting. It still took Martin by surprise, inspiring so much unreserved affection in someone. It wasn't anything he'd usually associate with himself. It was strange, and lovely, and at times made him feel almost frighteningly powerful.

He leaned forward, kissing the soft skin just beside Jon's ear. Jon smiled, holding his pose for a moment before gradually returning his attention to the pan, shaking it gently to move the vegetables around. Martin kept a hand on his, now fully for the sake of touch rather than any pretense of assistance, letting Jon's movements guide them both.

"Did we cook together in that cabin a lot?" he asked.

Jon nodded. "It was one of a handful of things we could do that felt . . . well, like a date, I suppose. We couldn't really go anywhere since we were lying low. I mean, we could walk around the area, isolated as it was, but trips to the village were all short and functional. So preparing something elaborate together made an evening feel special," he smirked. "You used to get defensive, too, just like today . . . saying you didn't really cook, like you were trying to lower my expectations."

"In my defense, I never said I didn't cook, just . . . ." Not since mum left , he thought. "Not for a while."

"To be honest, we were both at a disadvantage in that kitchen," Jon continued. "There weren't a lot of modern conveniences there. The power came from a generator, and the stove was an ancient, wood-burning thing that neither of us quite knew what to do with at first. Took a lot of trial and error before we really managed."

"Sounds cozy."

"Oh yes. So cozy we almost suffocated ourselves before we figured out how to adjust the vents."

Martin smiled, listening to Jon describe the little kitchen in that place. The cabin in Scotland had supposedly been a remote safehouse the two of them laid low in, but the way Jon talked about it sometimes it might as well have been a romantic holiday retreat. He made it sound so nice that Martin once idly suggested they go see it someday. Jon had gone tense and quiet at that, had shaken his head and said softly that they had to stay far, far away from that place. That there was nothing good that happened there now.

Jon was mostly open about the things he remembered. But sometimes "open" meant he'd easily speak at length about something, and other times "open" meant he'd answer your questions with short, one-sentence explanations, volunteering nothing unless pushed. And anything about the police officers he'd apparently worked with fell solidly into the second category.

Sometimes it seemed like they might have been friends, but Jon was always adamant that no one ever try to contact them. Daisy in particular seemed hard to talk about. Martin did know about the coffin. Jon had told him in a soft, emotional voice how another Martin had stepped from his cloud of isolation to set out tape recorders calling him home, how it had been one of very few things that let Jon believe he hadn't given up on him yet. And he knew something had been different about Daisy after the coffin, some sinister force like the one that had kept them at the Institute had loosened its hold on her.

He also knew that Jon was terrified of her, that he said again and again she was too dangerous to go near. That something about her made him sad -- and, Martin suspected, guilty, though he wasn't sure why. It was a topic he'd decided not to push . . . if Jon ever wanted to talk more about it, he would in his own time.

There were other things, things closer to home for Martin that Jon had hesitated over. Once while he was recounting the events of those years he'd paused mid-sentence. Stammered that it wasn't all supernatural in nature and some of it may still happen, and was he sure he wanted to know everything? Martin imagined Jon thought he was being subtle, but it wasn't a hard guess.

He told Jon not to give him the date. It was obviously going to be within the next couple of years, there was no spitting out that apple of knowledge. But he didn't want to be able to mark it on his calendar.

It shouldn't have felt like news, that his mum was going to die soon. Shouldn't have been the uncomfortable weight in his chest that it was. She was ill, of course it was coming, it had been coming for a while, hadn't it? But maybe that was the problem. It had been ‘any day now' for such a long time, ‘any day' had stopped feeling like a reality. And he still wasn't sure what to do with this information, if it really changed anything. Should he try to get some sort of closure? How did you make the most of the time you had left with a person who refuses to see you?

Martin hadn't asked Jon how much he knew about his mum, that just wasn't a conversation he was eager to have. But the careful, hesitant way Jon talked around the subject suggested . . . something, at least. Just like how the gentle, quiet tone he got when he talked about the Lonely told Martin more than he really wanted to have explained.

There was only one thing Jon flatly refused to tell him about, and that was whatever Elias had done to him on the day of the Unknowing. When pushed, Jon had gone quiet for a while, then said he didn't remember. It had been a lie, and a bad one, and both of them knew it. But it was clear there was no point in asking for more.

"You like pizzelles, don't you?"

Jon's voice snapped Martin to the present. With a last squeeze of Martin's hand, he turned off the flame, moved away from the stove and over to the pantry.

"Um, dunno?" Martin said, pulling his thoughts back together. "Never tried them."

"Really?" Jon frowned, pausing halfway to the cabinet door. Then he shrugged. "Well, no matter. You will."

Martin rolled his eyes. Jon spoke with so much more authority than anyone deserved to hold over another person's cookie preferences, and he couldn't help feeling contrary.

"No. You stepped on a butterfly last week and set off a chain of events that forever changed my feelings on pizzelles, I hate them now."

"That's all right," Jon said, popping open the plastic package and arranging the cookies on a plate. "If you don't want these, there's also canned peaches for dessert."

"Oh, don't you dare --"

Jon snickered, picking out a broken piece of one of the large, thin cookies and holding it out, just short of passing it into Martin's mouth. With an annoyed grunt, Martin leaned forward, taking a bite.

Damn it. It was really, really good.

---

Jon sank into the couch, pleasantly full and a little bit tired. He leaned back and listened to the sound of running water coming from the next room.

Martin had insisted on doing the dishes, on the basis that Jon had done "all the real work" of cooking. He wasn't sure that was true, but didn't argue. Just asked that he leave everything in the drainboard when he was finished so Jon could put it away later. He knew he'd be frustrated for hours if the dishes weren't where he expected them to be.

There were so many frustrations in his life now. His O&M instructor had promised he'd learn new ways to move through the world, that in time the frustrations would be fewer and fewer, and he'd find himself capable of nearly everything he'd done before the loss of his sight. Jon believed her, but it didn't make the prospect of getting there any less daunting. Nor did it make the learning process any easier.

The worst were the things his instructor would never understand, that no resource or guidebook would mention. The dread that gripped him when he became disoriented and found a door where he wasn't expecting one. The phantom tickles on his body that prompted him to pat himself down for spiders again and again.

Still. He was alive. The others were freed from the institute, and he was there with them, to struggle and to mourn and to continue on.

A part of him would always fear it had been a mistake. That the Web, or the Eye, or some other power still had plans for him that would reach apotheosis someday. Maybe he saw the fear as vigilance, as though something was waiting for him to feel safe so that it could rip that security from him. And as long as he never allowed himself to be truly, entirely at ease, that day would never come.

Irrational, perhaps. But it was so hard to tell anymore which irrational fears were truly irrational, and which would one day manifest with teeth and claws.

Even if nothing ever came for him, they had only bought the world some time. One day, maybe soon, someone would figure it out and attempt a ritual again. Maybe there would be others out there who would catch it in time, postponing the end over and over, forever. Or maybe someone would do it next week, and Jon would be plunged along with everyone else into unspeakable suffering until Terminus claimed them all. He could follow Gertrude's path if he chose, devote his life to stopping rituals at the cost of everything he cared for. Even then one could slip past him, come from someplace he hadn't been watching, or had been made not to notice. At some point he was going to have to find a way to live with that knowledge.

He'd work on it. But for the moment . . . .

The sound of running water stopped. Jon smiled, scooting to make room on the couch, feeling the cushions sink and shift as they took the weight of another person. With a hmm that came out with more whine to it than he'd wanted, Jon found Martin's arm and tugged it towards him. With a quiet laugh, Martin obliged, leaning into him and resting his head against his chest.

"Better," Jon arranged their limbs more comfortably. Martin's hands were still cold, and he smelled faintly of dish soap.

"Glad to hear it."

Jon knew Martin found it amusing, how clingy he was. The first time he'd commented on it had been profoundly embarrassing. Part of it was just the way Jon was, but he also remembered the days after the Lonely. The skittish, uncertain moments of contact, the times when Martin stiffened at his touch but whimpered when he pulled away. The other days, when they could barely let go of one another, when Jon would plant himself beside Martin or wrap his arms over his shoulders, and he would relax into it, sighing with release. Both of them too grateful for the fragile miracle of each other's touch to consider breaking contact.

This Martin didn't remember those days, and if he ever sensed anything desperate or reverent in the way Jon clung, he didn't comment on it. Still, even if he found it funny, he didn't seem to mind how ardently Jon held on to him.

Jon moved a hand into the space between Martin's shoulder blades and scratched down his spine, the particular way he used to like. Jon felt him shiver with pleasure under the soothing contact, and a powerful warmth spread through him.

"God . . ." Martin whispered, "you really know everything about me, don't you?"

Jon snorted. "Hardly. In a very real way, we barely had time to get to know each other. And when we did, well . . . it was close by necessity. It was intimate, and intense. But there's still a great deal I've no idea about."

"You were never tempted to use those powers of omniscience to look inside my head?"

"Constantly," Jon said, with great seriousness. "But I never did. I promised."

Martin went quiet at that. Maybe Jon's reply had been a little intense, or maybe Martin hadn't actually realized that looking inside his head had been a possibility when he'd asked the question as a joke.

"Oh," he said eventually. "Um . . . good?"

"I have picked up a few things," Jon continued, speaking with quiet and fond admiration. "For example . . . I know you'd like a pet, but your landlord won't allow them so you keep plants instead. You can't say no to panhandlers. You have a favorite hoodie that you only wear when you're sad and need the comfort. You like old, careworn furniture, and rainy days, and sitcoms that were made before you were born. You're kind to people who aren't kind to you, but you never forget the unkindness."

"Wow. Okay," Martin made a soft noise, shifting in his arms, voice tight and quiet. "Okay. Y-You're, uh, probably going to kill me if you keep that up, you know."

"Trust me, you've survived worse."

He felt Martin move a little higher, slotting himself beside Jon and giving him a tight squeeze. Jon grinned as the breath was pushed out of him, all twenty-four of his ribs contracting at the assault.

That was another difference, one of dozens of subtle changes Jon couldn't keep his mind from analyzing. Martin wasn't ungentle, exactly. But he hugged Jon more tightly, shoved or poked him when he was annoyed, whereas the Martin in his memories had held back a little. Been more mindful of his strength, as if wary he might handle him too roughly. It had been subtle, a thing Jon hadn't even noticed until he had something to contrast it against.

It made sense, he supposed. The other Martin had seen Jon limp back to the institute with fresh wounds and new scars one too many times. This one didn't have to have those images in his head.

There were some things that were lost between them, Jon knew that. Memories too small and simple to explain, questions he couldn't ask anymore. Moments they would never share, both good and bad. But there was also so much they had gained. This Martin hadn't had an easy life, not by any measure. But he hadn't had to watch helplessly as the people around him died or disappeared or became monstrous. Hadn't been lost in grinning corridors, or attacked by Hopworth's hooligans, or made to feel the heat of the endless tenement fire. And for that, Jon was so, so grateful.

"You look thoughtful," Martin commented.

"Mmm," Jon sat quietly for a while sifting through his thoughts before speaking. "We should go to a movie sometime. When I'm up for going out out."

"That sounds less fun for you than me . . . ."

"Depends on the movie. I could listen, even without description. And I'd enjoy being with you," he said. "Or maybe a concert? Though I don't really know what sort of music you like . . . ."

"Really? There's actually a blank spot in your catalogue of Martin trivia?" he said sarcastically. "Surprised it never came up."

"You only ever used headphones at work," Jon bristled, feeling oddly defensive about it, "and we obviously couldn't bring our devices to the cabin. Too traceable."

"Hmm," there was a teasing smile in Martin's voice. "Don't know if I want to tell, now. Feels like I've got a secret."

"Oh, except . . . there was one song? I don't know the lyrics, but you used to hum it all the time in the cabin."

"What was it called?"

"I didn't actually ask. It sounded nice, though. Maybe we could listen to it together. . . "

"How'd it go, then?"

He hummed the tune from memory. It came easily to mind, connected as it was with images of Martin sipping tea or wiping down a countertop, a bright, easy smile on his face. After a moment, Martin burst out laughing.

"That's -- that's from a soap commercial!"

". . . What?"

"Floors and doors, walls and halls, Liquid Lather cleans them all," he spoke-sang along with the tune. "It was probably just stuck in my head."

Jon frowned, mildly disappointed. "Well. It sounded nice when you were humming it, anyway."

"God. If you want I can serenade you with an insurance advert sometime."

"No thank you."

"Or we could listen to your album from uni," he pushed, the satisfied smile in his voice growing.

"Thankfully we never recorded anything," Jon grinned ruefully, "so that's lost to time."

"Bet you could still sing some of it."

"Try me the next time I'm not expecting to live through the night."

Martin made a displeased sound at that, but said nothing.

"I'm sorry that you always have to come over here," Jon said. "I should probably be making more of an effort to get out of the flat. But it's so much still, even with a guide. I can do it if I have to, but I can't relax."

"C'mon . . . you know I don't mind, and even if I did it wouldn't be something to apologize for. You're going at your own pace."

"Suppose I'm just impatient with myself. It feels absurd, I've walked through a London warped by unfathomable terror, but now ordinary city life is overwhelming. I think I never understood how many people there are on every block until each one became another unpredictable factor to be aware of on my way to the damn corner store," he sighed. "It may be a while before I'm up for anything like a concert."

"It's alright," Martin gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I'm good at waiting."

For a moment Jon's mind went to a dark, creaking bedroom, air heavy with dust and thick with terror. It's all right. I'm good at waiting. The same phrasing, almost the same tone. Maybe it was to be expected, little parallels like this. Given a person's linguistic habits and enough time it was probably inevitable, but every time something like it happened it floored Jon in the most wonderful way. Some small but meaningful part of the man he loved reflecting and echoing back at him.

If the world didn't end, if he didn't dissolve into spiders or die at the hands of some unfathomable terror, Jon swore someday he'd find the words for how moments like that made him feel. And if he had any courage left in him, he'd tell Martin about it.

"Though, as long as we're talking about that," Martin said, "I've been thinking . . . ."

"In general?" Jon teased.

"Sort of. I've been reading some stuff about adjusting to vision loss? And I know this is fast – well, maybe not fast to you – but it seems to me like it's probably easier, especially at first, if you've got a sighted person staying with you . . ."

He felt himself breathe in sharply, and Martin's words came faster, his tone careful.

"Not - not to do everything for you, of course! I know you can do things yourself. Just to make little things easier, and – you know, that aspect aside it – it might just be nice –"

"Yes," Jon said decisively.

"Because it isn't really just the vision thing – I mean, it's alright if you do need help but it's also alright if you don't – but there's other reasons – "

"My answer is yes."

A faint laugh came out of Martin and he slapped Jon's chest lightly. "Stop agreeing and let me finish."

"Sorry."

"I'm not suggesting moving in. That would be too fast, at least for me," he said. "I'd want to keep my own place, and I'd probably still spend some time there."

"Of course," Jon nodded solemnly. "Perfectly reasonable to want some space of your own."

"Yeah. But if it works for you, I thought I might get a bag together, y'know, just sort of stay for a while? I – hell, I wouldn't, uh, mind the excuse to cook more dinners with you? And I slept better than I had in a while the night I stayed over here."

"So did I."

"I just think it might be nice. If you think so too, of course."

There was a pause as Jon waited, not sure if Martin had more to say. After the silence had dragged on for a while, he spoke up. "Am I allowed to say yes now?"

Martin laughed, nodding against Jon's chest.

"Then yes. I'd be very happy to have you stay here with me."

"Cool. Cool . . . " Martin exhaled. " . . . I love you."

"And I love you."

"More than I'll ever know?"

There was a teasing smile in Martin as he echoed the words Jon had said to him back in the tunnel. Jon was quiet for a moment.

He'd meant those words when he'd said them. It hadn't been a romantic turn of phrase. He'd confessed his feelings in that moment with the understanding that Martin would never be able to see how deep they ran. That he could tell Martin he loved him, but he'd never be able to show him that. He wouldn't have the chance. He found Martin's cheek with a hand, turned his face towards him, then bent down and kissed him, once.

"No," he said. "Not if I can help it."

[namjoonchronicles]

worst | hs

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship

↳ words 1.9k

↳ summary To think that the world has conspired for you to love Hoseok is highly unlikely, but everything is possible with a little faith.

↳ song pink sweat$ ‘at my worst’

↳ author’s note the 7-day writing challenge is 4/7 done, I had much fun with this one and I toyed around a concept I have been trying to write better off. Enjoy <3

I need somebody who can love me at my worst. No, I’m not perfect but I hope you see my worth.

.

.

Soulmate. The concept is mesmerizing. To think that there’s such a person for each and everyone, that one person that was created by the universe specifically for you. From the time that they were born, down to the events that happened which led them to you, they are all orchestrated in order for you to meet. You always thought that those who eventually found their soulmate are the luckiest person in the world. Like you said, the concept is mesmerizing. To think that the stars in the sky, conspired for Hoseok to happen. How he is a gift to your dull life. 

Even as he is jumping on the couch and walking towards one end to the other when his feet were vacuumed by the robot vacuums that he himself bought. You wiped your face down. “I get it now, why you said it was scary, I get it now,” Hoseok yelped. You puffed your cheeks at him. You’re pointing the remote at the screen, swiping on the Netflix, before you paused to look at him. He was sitting beside you, hiding his face behind the striped cushion. “Are you sure you want to watch this with me? You’re absolutely sure?” your brows knitted as you grew doubtful. There’s a number of movies on your watch list but you had been wanting to watch Alice in Borderline since you heard about it. It stirred your interest, knowing that your friends have a knack of watching good movies. Your husband must have watched the thriller without you because he looks traumatized. You feel sorry for him and tell him again that he doesn’t have to do this with you if he doesn’t want to. “What do you want me to do? Sleep in the room alone while you watch it here?? That’s even more scary, sleeping alone…” he pouted. Voice muffled, hugging the cushion like his life depends on it. “I’m strong…” he said, enthusiastically. Before he tracts back into the cushion, putting on his defensive mode. You laced your fingers with him and leaned your head on his shoulders. He jumps at every scare, and hurls the cushions he could get his hands on, then screams his head off when the jump scares arrives. You’re so different from him. He doesn’t really like coffee and only drinks them when he needs to. He would walk into the room and be friends with everyone just by smiling. And in communication, he would much rather speaking out front on what he wants. He is excellent at reading the room but unlike you, he doesn’t dwell on the softer side and the easier way of solving things, instead, he focused on solving the problem and it didn’t matter what it looked to others. His goals are immaculate and crystal clear. He will fight hard for what he wants and even if he is shaken by the pernicious stage of it all, he will give it, his entirety. The way that he is fierceless, firm and throttling towards his goals are admirable. He might be pulling your PJs by the sleeves in an attempt to hide from the monster in the screen, sweating profusely and chanting your name; but this much is true, he would do anything for you. You remember it so clearly, these hands that hold you so tight, his wedding band shimmering in the dim light, was the same that rainy night. Those veins protruding, wet from the heavy rain, dripping down his chin and determination in his eyes--as he held the door open. Leather jacket, black shirt, black damaged jeans. His black Chelsea boots marched forward, had you cornered on the wall behind the door. Pinched your chin so gently, his lips ghosting over your cheek, to finally trail down on your lips. Strange it was that it wasn’t him that was shivering, it was you. He had his eyes fixated on the view of your Cupid’s bow. “Do I believe in forever, you say?” he smirked against you, “Of course no.” He clasped your lips with his own, exhaling hard through his nostril and moaning in your mouth while his hand ravages all over your body. He shifted his hand down your arms to the phone you’re holding and left them on the kitchen counter. “I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he growled. It’s really hard to string that Hoseok to this one. When he gestures for you to keep your arm around him so he sleeps better. When he pulls the chair you sat on so you could be closer. When he writes little love notes on every surface you touch. When he sends bouquets of flowers at work or at home. When he wanted a couple shoes that matched the couple shirts with the couple phone case. When he stole a spoon of your ice cream when you stole his. When he threw glances across the room at you and looked away smiling. Or when he insisted on driving you home that late night in September after a barbecue party when you looked like a mess and smelled like charcoal. When he dropped on one knee to tie up your shoelaces in the middle of the mall. When he spent his day searching for the laptops with you even when he doesn’t know much about technology and was texting Yoongi at every tech terms he had never heard of. It’s easy to dismiss the love you are poured with when you’re the one receiving. It’s easy to look over the details of the meticulous feeling one would carefully thread. Hoseok was, to put simply, a tapestry torn at the seams. His family was not supportive of his passion for dancing. He ran away at a young age to fight. On Christmas, he was asked why he didn’t return home and he swiftly walked away without answering. The answer was, he didn’t know where home actually was. A home was supposed to make you feel safe, to make you feel at ease, protected and loved for being yourself. His home was anything but that. He was at war with himself for the longest time. Left his emotion behind for as long as he knew. Filled with ambitions from early on, Hoseok had nothing to lose, or so he thought. You could not have interfered at the worst time. He danced till his body broke. The sores and bruises that covered his body, they were the badges he wore. As he lay motionless on the hospital bed, tears trailed down the tails of his eyes, staring helplessly on the ward’s ceiling from the pain he couldn’t speak of, he whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.” The loudest whisper you’ve heard him let out. “What are you saying, Hoseok?” you uncrossed your arm and sped to the side of his bed, fingers clawing on the edges, “Have you not seen yourself on stage? You’re the happiest on it… You forget everything else, even this pain.” You clasped Hoseok’s knuckle, looking hopeful into his eyes, “You were born to be on stage, you’re a performer, I refuse to let you feel like you’ve turned every stone. You haven’t. You mustn't give in… Pain is temporary.” Life is regret. Life is all about regretting the choices we didn’t make. Life is also about accepting the regret we feel from the same choices. And if it means to tell yourself over and over again, that this is good for you, one day, you might eventually believe them. For all that you care is if when the storm comes and swept everything you know away, it’s Hoseok’s hand you want to hold on to, it’s Hoseok’s eyes you want to get lost in and it’s his voice you want to live on for. Maybe that’s what soulmate is. Maybe soulmate is a person created by the universe specifically for you, for you to fight head on with, for you to nurture, for you to lose your mind at so they can put you back together. Maybe soulmate isn’t the perfect mirror of you, but a perfect contender for you. Maybe he is the one that showed you what exactly was wrong about you so you can be better. Maybe he is the one that calls you out on your mistakes so you could fix them. Maybe he is also the one who pulls you close when you’ve pushed him away. Maybe he is the one who wipes the tears he puts on you. Maybe he is the one that puts a smile on your face when the world is against you. Maybe he is the person who would fight the world for your hand. The concept of soulmate is again, mesmerizing. To know just how much the universe cared enough for you that they conspired to create a soul for you, from the beginning of time. They say their names are written on your palms when you were conceived. With these dazzling thoughts, you took Hoseok’s hand in yours, examining each line that crosses its path. “What is it?” He lets you, he himself munching on cereals. You zoomed into his palm more, tracing the lines. “They say, the name of the soulmate is written on the palms, I am trying to see if mine is on yours,” you monotonously explained. Hoseok stares at your head and slowly, but surely, a smile grows on his face. His cheeks rose and his ears turned red. He didn’t fight you off and even encouraged you on it. “Do you see it? Is it in english or kanji? Hangul?” He teased you. You dropped his hand when you realised that he was joking with you. He protests, “Why did you put them down? Keep holding on to my hand…” “I had a really good dream last night, but because you’re being mean to me, I am not going to tell you what it was…” you told him in a sing-song voice. He pesters you. Pouting and poking your sides relentlessly. You usually share with him your strangest of dreams. Sometimes they are the exact opposite of what happened. But the way he listened, and the face that he wore always encourages you. Hoseok listens with his whole body. “I dreamt of you in the kitchen. You have a baby draped over your shoulder and it was crying, and you were cooing it gently,” you told him. He paused for the longest time. He took one spoon of milk from the cereal and sip on them slowly. He lifts his face up, thinking and glancing over the clock on the wall and he said, with a serious face and tone, “Are you sure it wasn’t Mickey*?” .

.

.

. *Mickey refers to Hoseok’s Shih Tzu dog. 

.

Copyright © January 7th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are free!

[alitaimagines]

“you should let me love you. let me be the one too, give you everything you want and need. baby, good love and protection, make me your selection. show you the way love supposed to be. baby, you should let me love you.” 

character: keigo takami - MY HERO ACADEMIA 

note: sorry for all the Hawks! im just in a fluff mood for him. sooo, I might take requests after all. if any of you want to send something in particular, I’ll see if I can write it out! 

you had been together with Hawks for a few months now. 

was it hard? fuck yeah. did you regret ever telling him yes? absolutely not. being with Keigo was one of the best experiences of your life so far and you never wanted it to end. 

-

the two of you met after he saved your university from a villain. you were stuck as a hostage in a room with the villain itself. the class was filled with a bunch of students screaming, crying, or both but you were so paralyzed with fear that you weren’t able to say or do anything. 

once Hawks swooped in to save the class, he quickly defeated the villain before sending in the rest of the pro hero response team to grab everyone. 

you, being so struck by fear, didn’t move an inch. Hawks had seen this happen before and knew that the tears would be coming soon. your face was tucked in between your knees as he tapped you on the shoulder. 

“sweetheart, it’s fine, you can come with me.”

finally looking up, you seen the winged hero before slowly getting up. your hand trembled as you walked out of the university. a few of your friends instantly ran up to you as they wiped their tears to make sure you were okay. 

“lets get you to a medic,” one of your friends exclaimed as she slowly walked you to the paramedics. you still hadn’t uttered a word nor were you in the mood too. 

after your friends left you and the paramedic finally started checking you, they chalked up your frightened emotions as shock. they placed a weighted blanket on you before they noticed Hawks walking to them. 

he snapped his fingers as he told them to give you a few minutes alone, “I don’t think she’s in the right state of mind to be asked questions,” one of the paramedics said. he sighed, “I’m not asking her questions now leave,” he lectured as the paramedics finally listened and went to check on someone else. 

you were leaning up against the wall, your eyes still as hazy as they first were when he saved you. 

“you okay?” he asked as you didn’t respond. he sat next to you before sighing, “listen, I know what happened to you was traumatizing-,” Hawks didn’t even get through the first half of the sentence before hearing you bawl your eyes out. 

he watched as you hid your face between your blanket, “I could’ve died. my family could’ve had gotten a call that I was murdered. oh my god, how am I going to tell them?” you sobbed as you felt Hawks move you against him. 

“they’ve been notified,” he murmured as your eyes widened, “where’s my phone,” you yelled as you dug into your bag to see the 100+ messages from your family and friends. 

“call them in the morning, they know you’re okay but if you call them in the state you’re, it’s not going to help anyone here.” 

you knew he was right but you didn’t care. you immediately dialed your mom and heard her sobs racking through the phone as she asked you a million and one questions. 

“m-mom, it’s fine! i’m okay,” you managed to say as she tried to calm herself down, “c-can I c-call you tomorrow? I need to talk to the paramedics,” you lied as she agreed and hung up. 

Hawks saw you grip your phone as the tears kept flowing down, “thank you for saving me, I know you’re a very in demand hero and you probably need to get going but you saved me,” you admitted as he nodded. 

he had never seen anyone this shaken up before and truthfully, a part of him was disturbed. he saved hundreds of people before but for some reason, your reaction and you alone enraged him. 

Hawks never dealt with the aftermath of villains but he was going to make sure that the villain who did this actually served as many possible years as they could. 

“nah, I’ll stay behind and make sure you’re okay. don’t need you ruinnin’ off somewhere and getting hurt,” he replied as you shook your head, “it’s fine. I’m okay. I’ve received a few emails that I’m excused for classes for the rest of the week so I’m going to take the few days to recover,” you finally said without stuttering.

Hawks remained sitting as he watched you wrap the blanket around you, “do you have a car here?” you nodded as he finally thought of a way to keep an eye on you but make sure you weren’t going to noticed him, “I’ll walk you there,” he added on as you hesitantly agreed. 

you walked to your car in silence as Hawks held your backpack. your car was a bit on the beat up side but you were a college student, a brand new car probably wasn’t even in your financial means. 

you put your bag into the trunk before going to the drivers side and giving Hawks one final look, “thank you,” you whispered before getting into the car. 

he let you drive off for a few more minutes before deciding to fly and follow you to your house. he didn’t mean to be the creepiest person ever but he was just concerned about you getting home. 

your apartment didn’t look to be too far from your university but as soon as he watched you get into the complex, a sense of relief washed over him and finally decided to fly back to his agency.

-

it took Hawks a while for you to come around to the idea of you dating him. your fears were warranted though. you didn’t want to be so publicized in the media nor did you want any of his enemies coming after you.

you didn’t want to be in the hero field. far from it. so dating the number two hero was in the complete opposite side of the spectrum for you. 

there would be days where Hawks would just come by your house for a ‘glass of water’ in the middle of his patrol. you would be so adorably cute and make him not want to leave but he had people to save and villains to defeat. 

when you finally cracked down and accepted the idea of dating him, Hawks hadn’t felt so happy in so long. the idea of Hawks coming home to you and you greeting him with a hug and kiss basically projected him to cloud nine. 

that’s where you were now. it was a rare day off for him and you were cuddled up in his arms when he woke up in the morning. you were probably still dead asleep as you had a tendency to sleep without waking up to any commotion. 

you had your hair sprawled all over your face as he softly moved it away to get a good look at you. in a sense, you were like his own version of heaven. he didn’t even know if he believed in a God but if there was one, he felt like they placed you in his life on purpose.

Keigo didn’t really fall for the fake corny romantic bullshit but ever since becoming official with you, it was hard not too. you would greet him at your apartment when he stopped at your place after his shift and on the days where he asked you to go to his house an hour before his shift ended, you were there to greet him with a kiss. 

he truly never believed he would ever get the taste of such that life but here you were, in his arms peacefully asleep.

Keigo still hadn’t told you he loved you yet but he knew that would be coming sooner than later. he had no intention of letting you go now. you were stuck with the number two hero whether you liked it or not. 

it was already reaching ten when you started shuffling in place. he looked down at you as you opened your eyes and gave him the sleepiest smile you could have. 

“morning,” you muttered, “how long have you been up?”

he shrugged, “eight, maybe nine?” he estimated. your eyes widened, “that long? you haven’t gotten up to eat? would you want me to make you something?” you asked. 

“in a minute, I just want to hold you for a few moments,” he admitted. you gave him a kiss which he quickly deepened, “what has you so soft this morning? you’re usually teasing me by now,” you joked as he shrugged. 

“waking up to you this morning felt different,” he mentioned, “I’ve never waken up next to someone I love before.” 

your eyes widened as you grabbed his hand, “aw, Keigo, I’m honored. I know your life has been considerably harder in comparison to mine but you don’t have to feel like I’m going to leave you or something,” you responded as he nodded, “I love you too,” you said back making him smile. 

he immediately plopped you on top of him and kissed you again, “holding you this way is going to get addicting, you know that?” you giggled as you snuggled up to his chest, “really now?” you mocked as you got up, “well that sucks because I’m making you breakfast and you’re helping,” you told him as he chuckled lowly. 

you got off of him and grabbed his shirt before slipping it on and making your way to his bedroom bathroom. you and him brushed your teeth before he got into the shower. 

once he finished and put on a pair of grey sweatpants with a white shirt, he met you in his kitchen that went hardly touched. he maybe cooked once or twice in it? Keigo tended to order takeout and never did learn how to cook. 

you had headphones popped in as you took out a few things you bought yesterday and mixed them together before pouring milk. watching you do the most domestic thing ever made his heart flutter. it was like the two of you were married and in a way, he longed that this relationship would lead to that. 

“are you gonna help?” you exclaimed as he laughed, “coming love! you know you’re able to connect your phone to the stereo that’s in the wall, right?” 

he made his way over to you before giving you a kiss and helping you connect the music you had playing in your headphones to the speaker built into the wall. 

ALITA

[rpf-bat]

You Fell In Love With A Vampire

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Horror, Romance

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 7. Prompt: “Blood.” 

It’s late at night, when your best friend, Gerard shows up on your doorstep. He’s frantic, and covered in blood. He tells you that he’s been attacked - and reveals the bite marks, on his neck. When a strange thirst begins to take him over, your relationship with him changes forever. 

It had been a year since you graduated from SVA, and moved into this shoebox Manhattan apartment. But, you still hadn’t gotten used to how noisy the city could be at night. Even at this late hour, you could hear drunk people shouting, and taxi cabs beeping their horns. What they said was true - New York really was the city that never slept. 

But, I had to move into the city, to be closer to work, you reminded yourself. I’m lucky that I landed a job in my field, at all.  

You were debating whether to get out of bed, and fix some tea, when you heard a knock at your door. 

Who could it be at this hour?, you wondered sleepily. Should I just ignore it? 

The knocking continued insistently. 

“Ok, I’m coming…,” you mumbled. You pulled on your dressing gown, and looked suspiciously through the peephole. To your surprise, you recognized the face on the other side. “.....Gerard?!” 

You had known Gerard, since your first year of art school. You considered him one of your closest friends. But, he had never shown up on your doorstep, this late. What the hell was he doing here?

“Y/N, please open up!” you heard him beg. He sounded like he was crying.

Concerned, you opened the door. You gasped, when you saw the blood on his shirt.

“Y/N, you have to help me,” Gerard stammered. “I….I just got fucking attacked!” 

“What?” you gaped. “By who?”

“I can explain,” he sniffled. “Just...please, let me in!” 

“Of course,” you nodded, ushering him into your living room. “Sit down….it’s gonna be okay….” 

“I’m s-sorry,” he said, sitting hesitantly on your couch. “I didn’t know where else to go….you’re the only person I really know, who lives on this side of the Hudson.” 

“Sssh, it’s okay,” you consoled him, putting an arm around him. His whole body was shaking. 

“I stayed at the office really late tonight,” Gerard explained. “I was working on a drawing, and I guess I lost track of time. I was getting ready, to get on the train, and head back to Jersey for the night. But, as I walking to the station, this creep came out of nowhere, and cornered me in an alley.” 

“A mugger?” you guessed. 

“No!” Gerard shook his head. “I threw my wallet at him, but that wasn’t what he was after.” 

“What did he want, then?” you asked, confused. 

“My body,” Gerard shuddered. 

Your eyes widened - you never expected him to be a victim of that type of crime. But, assault isn’t something that only happens to women, you reminded yourself. Anyone can be a target.

“He started kissing my neck,” Gerard recalled, shaking, “and, like, biting on it.” 

“That’s horrible,” you said, terrified to hear the rest of your friend’s story. “Did he….?” 

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I fought him off, before he could do anything else to me.” 

“Oh, thank God,” you replied, relieved that the bastard had not violated your friend any further. 

“I have a knife that I keep on me for self defense,” Gerard clarified. “I managed to cut him pretty deeply….what’s crazy is, he took off, like the injury was nothing.” 

“Seriously?” you asked, surprised. 

“Yeah!” Gerard replied, still looking shaken. “Oh, god….his blood splattered, when I sliced at him. Some if it got in my mouth….I can still taste it….”

“Do you want a cup of tea?” you offered, unsure how to help your clearly traumatized friend. 

“Yes, please,” Gerard said softly. 

You got up, and microwaved a mugful of water. You grabbed a tea bag from the cabinet, and set it in the mug, to steep. 

“Let that sit for a moment,” you cautioned. “It’s gonna be pretty hot. While you’re waiting on that, can I look at your neck? You look like you’re bleeding, a little bit…”

“Oh, god, am I?” Gerard shivered. “Do you have a first aid kit?” 

“I should have some bandages, somewhere,” you nodded. You sat down beside him, and gently tugged his shirt collar down. The fabric was soaked in red. “This looks kind of deep….” 

“Am I gonna be okay?” Gerard asked nervously. 

“Yeah, let me put some antiseptic on it, and you’ll be fine,” you assured him. You grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the bathroom, and poured some onto a cotton ball. “I’m sorry if this stings a bit….” 

You daubed the cotton ball, onto the bloody bite mark, on his neck. What kind of sick freak would do such a thing?, you thought to yourself. It almost looks more like an animal bite… 

Gerard winced, as the antiseptic made contact with his skin. 

“I’m sorry,” you frowned. “I’m trying to be gentle.” 

“It’s okay,” Gerard said softly. “Thank you, Y/N, for helping me, even though it’s so late.” 

“Of course,” you told him, as you placed a Band-Aid on the wound. “I wouldn’t turn you away, when you’re in such obvious distress, like this.” 

“Y/N…..I was so scared,” Gerard confessed, tears welling up in his eyes again. He dove into your arms, and began to cry on your shoulder. 

“Ssssh,” you quieted him, gently rubbing his back. “It’s okay, Gee. The son of a bitch is gone now. You’re safe.” 

“Y/N….,” Gerard mumbled, his voice muffled by your shirt. “You...you smell so good…..”

“Huh?” you blinked, pulling away from him. 

“I….I’m sorry,” he blushed. “I don’t know why I said that.” 

What a weird thing to say, you thought, bewildered. It almost sounded like he was coming on to you….but, that wouldn’t make any sense. After what he’s been through tonight, romance would be the last thing on his mind. 

“.....Your tea should be cool enough to drink now,” you said awkwardly. There was no way he would hit on someone like you….even if he hadn’t just been groped by some pervert. 

“....Right,” Gerard said, and picked up the mug. He drank it quickly, setting the empty mug back down in seconds. 

“You must have been thirsty,” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I still am pretty thirsty, actually,” Gerard admitted. “Would it be okay if I had some more?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged. “I can fix you another cup.” 

“Before you do that,” Gerard asked hesitantly, “would you mind taking a look at my mouth?”

“Your mouth?” you repeated, confused. 

“My whole mouth hurts for some reason,” Gerard explained with a frown. “It feels like, when I had my wisdom teeth.” 

“Uhh, sure,” you decided, moving closer to him, on the couch. You didn’t understand how the attack could cause a symptom like that. But, you didn’t think he would make it up, either. 

He opened his mouth wide, so you could see it better. You leaned in, scrutinizing him with your gaze. At first, you couldn’t comprehend what you were seeing. There’s no way…..

“Gerard,” you paled, unsure how to tell him what you just saw. “You look like….you’re growing fangs.”

“Huh?” Gerard blinked, closing his mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“Go look in the bathroom mirror, if you don’t believe me!” you insisted. 

Gerard got up, and went to go look, for himself. His eyes widened in shock, as he stared at the reflection of his teeth. “Oh, god….what the fuck is happening to me?!” 

The pieces began to click into place, in your head. 

“Gee….,” you said nervously, “I think the guy who attacked you, was a vampire.”

“What?” Gerard laughed nervously, walking back into the living room. “Y/N, you gotta be kidding me…..vampires aren’t real.” 

You hadn’t thought they were real, either, until tonight. But, there was no other explanation, that made sense. 

“He bit you, and drew your blood,” you pointed out. “And now, all of a sudden, you spontaneously start growing a pair of fangs….” 

“Are you saying,” Gerard realized, the color draining from his face, “that I’m turning into a vampire, too?” 

You didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was right in front of your eyes. 

“Oh, god,” Gerard realized, a look of horror crossing his face. “Does that mean that the sweetness I smelled when I was hugging you, was your blood?”

“That’s why the tea didn't do anything for your thirst,” you figured out. “You’re blood-thirsty.”  You took a frightened step backwards. 

“Y/N, I’m not gonna hurt you!” Gerard cried. “Please...you know me better than that.” 

“You’re right,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, Gee. Even if you are a vampire, you’re still my friend.” 

“I need to get out of here,” Gerard said, heading for the door. 

“No, wait!” you said, grabbing his arm. “It’s almost dawn….if you step outside now, the sun will burn you up into ashes.” 

“Maybe I should let it!” Gerard cried, trying to jerk away from you. “It’s better to be a pile of dust, then turn into an evil monster, that might harm you!” 

“No!” you insisted. “Gee, you can’t just kill yourself!”

“I can’t stay here!” Gerard argued. “What if I go berserk, and bite you? I would never forgive myself!” 

“You won’t do it!” you shouted back. “I know you -you’re a good person!” 

“Let go of me!” Gerard struggled. “Even if I go home  - what if I end up attacking my mom? Or Mikey? I’d rather die, while I still have my humanity, than live life as a monster!” 

“There’s no way I’ll let you die!” you screamed, tears welling up in your eyes. You held fast to his hand. Desperate to escape your grip, he shoved you away. 

You fell backwards, into the coffee table. You knocked the empty teacup as you hit the ground, and it shattered onto the floor. A shard landed on your hand, nicking your finger.

“Oh, god, Y/N, I’m so sorry!” Gerard gasped. He knelt down, to help you up. “I...I didn’t mean to hurt you…..”

“I’m okay,” you assured him, taking his hand. “I know, it was just an accident.” 

You tried to pull your hand away, now that you were on your feet. To your surprise, he held it fast. 

“Hey, let go,” you demanded. 

Gerard didn’t answer you - he was staring down, at your fingertips. You followed his gaze, and realized that your finger was bleeding. 

“....Gerard?” you called his name. “....I said, let go.” 

He stared at the red bead on your fingertip, as if he was hypnotized. It dawned on you, that he was trying desperately, to hold himself back. 

“.....You want to drink my blood,” you realized. 

“No,” Gerard whimpered. “I can’t….that would be wrong…..” 

“But, if you’re really a vampire,” you guessed, “don’t you need blood to live? If you don’t drink, you’ll starve.”

“Y/N, I’m so thirsty,” Gerard confessed, a hungry look in his eyes. “It….it hurts….” 

“Then, let me help you,” you offered. You extended your bleeding finger to him. “Just….promise to be gentle?” 

“I….I can’t do this to you,” Gerard hesitated. 

“It’s better for me to give it to you now, of my own free will,” you insisted, “then, to let you lose yourself, and end up attacking an innocent person.”

“A-Are you sure?” Gerard stammered. 

“Yes,” you consented. “Go on...before I change my mind.” 

“.....Okay,” Gerard decided. He took a deep breath, and knelt down, at your feet. He gently took your hand in his, and brought it to his lips. His tongue softly lapped at the blood that had pooled at the tip of your finger. 

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck, Y/N, you taste so good.” He licked your fingertip again. 

You found yourself blushing. 

He took your fingertip into his mouth, and started sucking on it, still making an effort to be tender. You felt the blood drip from the wound, as he began to suck you harder. His lips tightened around your finger. 

“....Hey, easy!” you reminded him. 

He slowed down, slightly, but the pressure of his sucking continued. His eyes rolled back in his head - the taste of you, seemed to be ecstasy to him. His pace quickened again. He couldn’t help himself.

 His fangs grazed your cut, deepening it, and allowing more blood to flow. You didn’t fight it. His lips against your skin, felt so soft, and good. It made you gasp. The only sounds in the room, were his soft, sucking noises, and your own ragged breathing. 

“...Y/N?” he gasped, gazing up at you, as he withdrew your finger, from his red mouth. “You look almost like….you were getting off on that.” 

“I….I think I was,” you confessed, cheeks aflame. What was wrong with you? 

“Is it strange,” he asked, licking his bloodstained lips, his thirst seemingly slaked, “if I say that I was kinda getting off on it, too?” 

You kneeled on the floor beside him. After the strangely erotic experience you’d just shared, there was no way that you could go back to being just friends. 

You kissed him, tasting your own blood, on his mouth. His body responded to yours, and he pulled you in. His red-dripping tongue, entered your mouth. 

“Fuck, Y/N!”, he gasped. “I…..I’ve wanted this for so long. The truth is…..I’ve had a crush on you, since freshman year.” 

“You….you have?” 

You’d always been attracted to him, but you never thought, you’d be his type. 

“I dreamed of this,” he confessed, his eyes full of passion. “But….I never thought it would be this way.” 

Nothing about this night, could have possibly been predicted. Your best friend had become an actual vampire - and he’d bitten you. And you’d enjoyed it.

“You can’t leave until the sun goes down, right?” you panted, kissing him again. He moaned against your lips.

“Y-Yeah,” he said. “I’m stuck here, until nightfall.” 

“Then, do you want to pass the time, in my bedroom?” you asked seductively. 

“Are you saying….there’s something else, you’d like me to suck?” Gerard smirked. 

“I would,” you purred. 

He took you in his arms again, and looked at you with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with  your blood. “Then, I’m yours.”

[in-tua-deep]

For the Harry Potter AU, Is there going to be Five time travelling, be it accidentally?

Five does not decide to time travel on a whim to use his powers in the hogwarts au - this does not mean he doesn’t time travel

(Five is very very concerned with them all sticking together in this timeline/au !! he doesn’t want to run away at all, because their lives are finally good - he has no reason to want to time travel when there’s all this other magic shit he could be learning)

during one of their summers, they end up at the Weasley’s house. It makes sense. Ginny was their youngest child and she’s graduated and moved out. The Weasley’s had a whole seven children, which means they have space slash beds for seven whole children. So they stay with the Weasleys, which is a somewhat awkward fit but I digress

but look the Weasleys still have kids, and those kids do visit

(Which is how Klaus meets Fred Weasley, which is another story)

But Ron comes home to visit and Hermione comes with him and they end up telling stories about their Hogwarts days to the umbrella kids, which is interesting and fun !! they downplay the deadliness of their shenanigans probably but they tell them stories

and Ron mentions Hermione’s insanity their third year when Hermione decided she had to take every single class available to her like an absolute madman. How did she manage that? Oh, she got a time turner with the ministry’s permission or something

and Five, who is always doing Way Too Many Things At Once is immediately enthralled with the idea that you can jump back hours at a time. And they used this just to get to a class at the same time as another class? The possibilities are limitless. 

As soon as Ron and Hermione leave Five is already penning furious letters to his head of house hollering about getting a time turner and that he also wants to do All The Classes

(all his Hufflepuff friends admire his work ethic, yes, very hufflepuff, but come on five put the book down and play exploding snap with us for once in your goddamn life)

And Sprout mails back like “You’re literally 12 you don’t even get electives for your second year?? ask me again next year????” because this is a ravenclaw problem usually - and a Hermione problem - that the Hufflepuff head of house usually doesn’t have to deal with tbh

and Five pouts about it but yeah okay that’s fair, even if having the five hour time turner would be super super useful for things like... sleep or homework slash doing other peoples homework (for a fee of course)

so Five goes through his second year very patiently and then at the end kicks in Sprout’s door and is like “PROFESSOR SPROUT, TIME TURNER ME” giving her an absolute heart attack

(Five is pretty good at zooming through his homework actually, he’s one of the top students in their year actually??? he’s one of those annoying kids who doesn’t even have to put in much effort to get top grades? 

this is because Five is voracious in his pursuit of magical knowledge and is actually like, way beyond his year’s appropriate material tbh - like he’s not quite brewing polyjuice potions in the bathrooms but the librarian knows him by name and he’s started eyeing the restricting section with a little too much interest recently

the age old wisdom learned in Reginald’s household: you only get in trouble if you get caught)

Five is willing to even do the really stupid sounding classing like divination (gag, he’s going to be doing the class with Klaus, Allison, and Diego though so it’s not a total wash he guesses) because if he does the work he gets a fucking time turner are you kidding

(Klaus is way too enthusiastic about divination, when asked why she’s taking Allison arches an eyebrow and says she can absolutely predict the future - for example she heard a rumor you left her alone - wow look at that it came true! Diego is taking it because Klaus begged him but also because he heard it was a really easy class and he would like to focus on quidditch thanks)

they end up staying at the Longbottom Estate the summer between their second and third year (the Weasleys weren’t a great fit and they plan to go to Romania that summer to visit Charlie) since the bigass mansion from an old family has enough room

They’re familiar with Neville, who is apprenticed under Professor Sprout and is probably going to take over herbology classes in the near future. Ben and Neville get along like a house on fire, spending way too much time in the green house

Five, on the other hand, strikes up an intense rivalry with Augusta Longbottom, who is ancient and fierce and strikes terror into the heart of any child she wishes. Five kind of wants to be her but also is at war with her because there are so many good books that Augusta won’t let him read

(anyway, Five learns the hard way that Augusta Longbottom keeps an armed mouse trap in her purse and admires such a simple non-magical solution to keeping intruders away)

Klaus doesn’t like the estate (it’s very old and there are... quite a few ghosts), Diego is constantly badgering the others to practice quidditch with him, Luther carries everything for Augusta and is deemed a ‘nice young man, very Gryffindor’ with approval, Allison models herself the perfect young lady and takes great pleasure in sticking her tongue at the others when they get in trouble (behind the adult’s backs of course), while Vanya takes the opportunity to practice her violin with intensity considering they can’t practice magic anyway (curse underage magic laws)

of course there is a small incident where Ben and Five set up an illicit potions lab in the definitely not a dungeon basement and may or may not experiment which lead to something almost blowing up

“In our defense,” Five says, scrubbing a sleeve over a very sooty face thanks to a small explosion, “we were really bored.”

“Potions.” Neville despairs, like potions personally killed his parents and kicked his dog. And who knows, maybe they did somehow. This is the magical world, nothing ever makes sense honestly. 

“Sorry for nicking some of your boom berries.” Ben offers, managing to actually look sincerely sorry. Five should take pointers, honestly.

“The boom berries aren’t even ripe.” Neville whimpers, face in his hands.

Five exchanges a look of realization with Ben, “Ah, that’s why they - ”

“Went boom.” Ben says with a slightly hysterical giggle on the end.

“No more potions without supervision.” Is the order they get stuck with, which is really unfair considering that there are seven kids and only two adults honestly. 

(“I can’t believe you almost blew up the house.” Luther hisses at them later, to which Ben looks appropriately abashed.

“You’re just jealous we didn’t include you in any plots with explosions.” Five points out crossly. Luther doesn’t say anything to that, which means he’s right.)

Vanya only blows up like, three whole rooms and the bright side is that everyone chalks it up to accidental magic even though Vanya should really have grown out of it by now but... it’s not like they have another explanation!

The kids get very good at distracting the adults and the others trying to train Vanya so that she doesn’t blow things up by accident, which goes better than canon because she wasn’t pent up for literal decades at least but does mean that more accidents happen than the Longbottom house is necessarily used to

“I’d forgotten what it was like to have children underfoot again.” Augusta says when they have to go back, leaning on her cane and looked at them all severely. “Do not return.”

and that’s their stay at the Longbottom estate

so Five enters his third year and gleefully is given a time turner

and he’s informed he can only turn it back five hours, which is the safe time !! and he’s like “haha neat” and immediately turns it five times and - 

he shows up like five years in the past due to funkiness of his powers interacting with the time turner, which lovingly dumps him right into the middle of the war when he’s like, thirteen, in 1997

“what the FUCK” - Five, probably

and this is how five realizes he has time powers

Five is missing for five months when he shows back up, more than a little bit traumatized, clutching his time turner

“what the FUCK” - all of Five’s siblings upon his return, because they have been freaking out for five months

“What do you mean I’ve been missing for five months?” Five asks hysterically, “It’s been like, a month? Tops? I hope you idiots know I had to break into the fucking Ministry of Magic to get back to y’all fuckwads”

“What the fuck, Five” say the siblings, with feeling

“I had to steal and juryrig like, half of the ministry’s supply of time turners. it’s fine. they got ruined during the war anyway, I read about it, so it didn’t upset the timeline or anything to snag a few before it happened and stuff.” Five explains

(He returns the time turner to a very shaken Professor Sprout, but he does not return the pilfered ones he stole five years ago)

after everyone stops freaking out (more or less - the Hufflepuffs refuse to let Five out of their sights for more than five collective minutes which is an absolute pain) Five ends up having to drop some classes (he ends up dropping divination since he likes arithmancy way better - predicting the future with numbers? hell yeah !! and he drops care of magical creatures but insists on keeping up with muggle studies since he feels it’s important to keep up with that world just in case they have to disappear back into it) and life vaguely returns to normal

“Wait.” Klaus says, with a voice that says he’s had a very important revelation. “Does this mean that we’re older than Five?”

“No.” Five says, very firmly, as though that will help what is to come.

“Absolutely.” Diego immediately butts in.

“Absolutely not -” It’s no use. Klaus has wrapped his arms around Five (and curse him, Klaus is a fucking bean pole and taller than Five) and is crooning about how they’re going to take such good care of their babiest brother - 

Klaus deserves result of this interaction. The rest of the room? Well. Needless to say the siblings get detention for destroying an unused classroom

(this does not stop the others from referencing Five’s apparent youth at the most inopportune moments, which never fails to his Five’s berserk button)

everyone keeps a close eye on five. besides more food hoarding and some more general feralness he seems fine for the most part tbh

(he does not talk about his month away, but needless to say he was dumped into the beginning of Harry Potter’s seventh year, which was deeply unfortunate due to the fact that Death Eater’s had taken over Hogwarts and other deeply unfortunate events were taking place)

somehow Five manages to catch up to all his classes despite having been missing for Five months Five what the fuck, and maintains his position as one of the top students in their year

the siblings initiate daily meetings which means all of them pile into the Hufflepuff common room once a week on Five’s night hosting which is basically part sibling study group part “we WILL keep track of everyone on god”

yeah there may or may not be some like. trauma regarding their brother literally vanishing on them tbh

third year is also when Five discovers he can jump into the chamber of secrets and meets the painting of Dolores, and then proceeds to be down there whenever he’s getting sick and tired of everyone’s attention on him like he’s just gonna vanish on them for fucks sake Luther stop breathing in his ear he’s trying to read

he likes talking to Dolores, and she’s full of cool and interesting information and facts, and is very good at charms and hexes, not to even mention her encyclopedic knowledge of various jinxes

but yes five does time travel. it’s sort of to do with his time powers. it’s very accidental, basically his powers going absolutely haywire due to exposure to temporal magic and amplifying their effect to a terrifying degree, but thanks to genuine wizarding knowledge about temporal magic and the existence of time turners Five was able to get home in a timely manner

...sort of, honestly being four months off wasn’t too bad considering his canon difficulties with timing lmao