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marsbutterfly · 4 years ago

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Hi! Can I please request for a short fic with reiner? Possibly a yandere one where he's over protective and jealous as hell.

*sweats*

Note: Of course! This is not only my first request but also my first Yandere fic, so I really hope you like it, I had a lot of fun writing it, thank you for requesting!

AO3 Version! | Wattpad Version!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: PHYSICAL AND MENTAL ABUSE

You Belong to With Me

Summary: “Reiner, please, I’m begging you, it’s not like that! Listen to me!” You scream as tears fall from your eyes. You can feel his grip tightening around your wrist as he drags you to another room.

He presses you against the wall, blocking any possibility you have to escape with his body. Reiner quietly leans forward, his warm breath against you ear.

“I’ll make you regret this, Y/N”

And before panic is even able to set in, he let go of you, pushing your small body against the wall as hard as he possibly can and leaving the room in a rush.

You sink to the floor, covering your mouth so no one will hear you cry.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

Five days have passed since you last saw your boyfriend. It’s unusual for him to be away from you for so long.

You walk around the training grounds, searching for Reiner or even Bert. Asking the other recruits and even the veterans for his whereabouts didn’t bring you any closer to finding him.

“Maybe he went back to his hometown?” You ask yourself, tears in your eyes as you think about his promise to never leave you behind, no matter where he went.

You sit on a small bench by the river, allowing the tears to roll down your face as the sun gently shines upon your head. As you stare at the river, your mind goes back to five days ago.

“Hey Y/N, do you have a minute?” You hear Eren’s voice coming closer to you, the poor boy’s face looking as red as an apple, as if he’s been running for at least a few minutes.

“Yeah, are you alright?” You touch his back while he has his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. You can feel Reiner’s eyes on you in the distance. He has his arms crossed around his chest as he leans against a tree, Bertholdt by his side. The taller boy sweats nervously as he tries to calm your boyfriend down. You immediately remove your hand from Eren and you can almost sense an approving smile form on the blonde boy’s face.

“I need you to cover for me. The Commander has given me an order but it’s something I need to do on my own. Could you keep Mikasa away?” Your eyes open wide. You shake your head instantly, not wanting anything to do with it. The last time someone kept Mikasa away from Eren, they ended up in the nurse’s office, with at least a concussion and several of broken bones.

“No, thank you! I would like to keep my body intact if possible!”

He giggles before taking your hand, on his knees he begs you one more time. Your body becomes stiff. From the corner of your eye you can see Reiner’s body language changing. He now stands straight, a frown taking over his features as he watches closely for your next reaction.

“Ok Eren!” You say, quickly removing your hand away from him. Your heart beats twice as fast as before and the bad sensation in the pit of your stomach grows bigger each passing second.

“YES! Y/N YOU ARE THE BEST!” He says before pulling you in for a hug and kissing your left cheek. As soon as he lets you go, Eren runs off trying to avoid Mikasa at all cost. By the time you realize what he had done, you already feel Reiner’s presence behind you.

He grabs your shoulder and you fight the tears that now try to force their way out.

“What the fuck was that, my dear Y/N?” His deep voice bringing goosebumps all over your body. He has always been jealous of other people, especially other boys, but Eren has a special way of making him mad. “You know I don’t like it when you talk to him.”

His other hand tucks some of your hair behind your ear. You try to speak but your voice dies in your throat before it even has a chance to come out. You move your lips, quietly: “Reiner, please..”

“You belong to me.” He says as he grabs your right wrist and drags you out of there.

You spend all day searching for him, but no matter how hard you try, he is nowhere to be found.

Once you decide to call it a day, you make your way towards the showers.

As the water touches your skin, you try to focus your mind on something else but as the soap slides around your skin, the marks he left on you are still visible. Now small bruises all over your ribs and your arms, from times where you disobeyed him, either by talking to someone else or simply not understanding one of his orders.

You hear the door opening but as you look around there’s no one there. Your heart beats faster now as you try to finish your shower quickly so you can get out of there. You hear the window breaking.

“Who’s there?” You ask as your voice shakes, but deep down you already know who it is.

You look behind you and wearing all black clothes, there he is. The buff, blonde boy you’ve been looking for. Your hands shake as you try to reach for him.

“Reiner… I missed you.”

He quietly gets closer and closer to you until your body is completely against the cold, wet wall.

“How many?” He breaks the silence while closing the space between your bodies.

“What?” A bad feeling settles in as you feel the anger in his voice, but something is different this time. When Reiner is mad, he usually makes a point about being as loud as he can, so everyone will know what enraged him, but not right now.

“How many times have you cheated on me with Eren?” He grabs your hips, digging his nails into your skin.

“Never! Please, I have never lied to you!” No matter how true your words are, his beautiful eyes are now a clouded shade of gray, like you’ve never seen before. You know this is not Your Reiner, but rather someone else.

“You know I hate when you try to make me jealous, Y/N”

“Reiner, listen to me. Eren just needed help, that’s all there was to it!” You beg him, trying to set yourself free but it’s useless.

“I wish I could believe you, Y/N.” He pauses, letting you go for a split second before slamming you against the wall one more time. You gasp for air as you feel your lungs failing at their job. Before he can do anything else, you look deep in his eyes and screams.

“REINER YOU ARE ACTING LIKE MARCEL!”

His eyes widen as he wonders how could you know that name. His face slowly turns red as he gets closer to you, his mouth right against your ear.

“I don’t know how you know that, but you finally did it.”

He slowly walks away from your body, getting something from his pocket. Before you even have time to run away, you feel a needle penetrating your skin and your body suddenly weighs more than the walls themselves.

You fall to the ground, not breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. The tears finally start rolling from your eyes once again as he picks you up, walking towards the window.

“We’re going to my hometown. Once we’re there, you will have nowhere else to go, and finally, you’ll be mine alone.”

As you start blackout, you hear Bertholdt calling Reiner and saying something along the line: We’re good to go!

So he gently deposits your body on the floor, and as he says

“You belong to me, and no one else, Y/N. The sooner you understand you cannot leave me, the sooner I can go back to protecting you”

He bites his hand and a flash of bright lightning hits his body. The last thing you see before passing out is Reiner, the boy you’ve loved since the first time you saw him, transforming into the Armored Titan. He was so protective of you and always so jealous, and now you finally know why.

Because he was never meant to be here in the first place, he was never meant to fall in love with a soldier. All the nights you’ve heard him sleep talking about Marcel, and being a warrior, everything finally made sense. The amazing person who’s always protected you was meant to kill you, but he spared you because he loves you.

And you love him just as much.

Nobody will ever bring you two apart. That’s a promise.

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thebiscuiteternal · 4 years ago

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I had an evil thought on twitter and way too many people encouraged it, SO-

“Collecting the Pieces”

Mild Horror, Family Secrets, Mental Instability, Magical Fuckups, Sangyao-lite, Nie Huaisang Doesn’t Know Yet, Jin Guangyao Is About To Know More Than He Ever Wanted To

__________

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang.

It manifests in small signs at first.

Little things like how he would look at a person, but not at them, green eyes dull as if he wasn’t actually seeing who he was talking to. The unnaturally pale tint to his skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. The fact that his robes had gotten heavier over thr last several months, trying to hide that he was getting thinner.

The incident where he had lost consciousness in the middle of a discussion with Ouyang-furen and had only been saved from cracking his skull against the floor by the reflexes of his head disciple was… concerning. But like all of the other symptoms, it could easily be tallied up as exhaustion from lingering grief and having so much responsibility dumped onto an unprepared back.

But then...

Then there are the conversations none of them can hear. Those moments where he sits with his head slightly bowed, staring at nothing and lips moving silently.

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang, and for those not of his sect, his presence has gone from mildly concerning to downright unnerving.

Jin Guangyao has to point out to his father more than once that they have only just averted the conflict with the previous sect leader; to bar the new one from the discussion conferences just because he seems strange would be an insult tantamount to inviting war, even if Nie Hengbai does seem to be doing all the talking for the Nie at the moment, his sect leader a quiet little shadow at his side.

He finds it a unique opportunity to observe, in fact. Everyone is so unsettled by the mere fact that Nie Huaisang converses with empty air that no one has apparently thought to find out what he is saying when he does .

The seating arrangement isn’t ideal. The only person besides his own disciples who doesn’t seem to be scared off by Nie Huaisang’s unnatural behavior is Jiang-zongzhu, who pointedly settles himself on the opposite side from Nie Hengbai and scowls at all gossipers, their host included. His height half-blocks Nie Huaisang from view.

But still, Jin Guangyao can see.

And as he watches the words fall unheard from Nie Huaisang’s mouth, he feels a chill slowly creep up his spine.

‘Da-ge, come back. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll behave. I'll be good. Please come back. Please, Da-ge…’

He is glad that his sleeves hide the involuntary clenching of his hands.

While he knows better than to completely dismiss a possibility, no matter how small the odds, his mind nonetheless rebels at the first idea to enter it. It cannot actually be Nie Mingjue's resentful ghost haunting his little brother. Even if it had been whole, if he and Xue Yang had not scattered it with the man's physical pieces, it is decidedly not Nie Huaisang that the man would be tormenting with his presence if he were capable.

Isn't it?

And yet, he cannot shake the cold in his bones.

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang, and he will seek out the source.

---

"San-ge?"

Nie Huaisang blinks at him, eyes glassy and confused. He tilts his head questioningly like the birds he is so fond of, then slowly regains awareness of his surroundings and smiles, looking more like himself.

Jin Guangyao forcibly clamps down on a shudder. "It's good to see you, Sang-er," he says, allowing himself to adopt the regional address since they are nowhere near the judging eyes of Koi Tower. He reaches out and sweeps the younger man's hair out of his eyes, then tuts in concern. "Are you still not sleeping well?"

"Ah-" Nie Huaisang flinches and looks embarrassed at the gentle chiding. "It's… nothing, really. Busy times and too much paperwork, that's all. Can I get you anything?"

"I just need to look over some map records, if you don't mind. A handful of small sects have brought a problem to my father, and I'm afraid our own records are… a bit lacking."

The younger man simply nods, accepting the excuse at face value, and Jin Guangyao isn't sure if that says something about Nie Huaisang's state of mind, or the Jin sect's reputation for ignoring anything that isn't expenditures or debts to be collected. Either way, when Nie Huaisang reaches out to tug his sleeve, he goes willingly and tries to ignore the slightly unsteady sway to his friend's pace.

Even though the poor end to his relationship with Nie Mingjue had been loud and public enough that the whole of the Unclean Realms knew about it before the day had even ended, he is apparently still a familiar enough face that barely anyone pays him mind.

Indeed, most of their worried glances are directed towards their sect leader.

He refuses to examine the possible reasons why that might be settling sour in his stomach.

They are still a few halls and turns away from the library when Nie Huaisang lets go of his sleeve and puts a hand to his head, looking even more pale than before. Jin Guangyao catches him before he can topple into the wall and then bites his tongue when green eyes slide over him, gaze unseeing.

“Sang-er?” he asks cautiously.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes don’t clear, but he seems to still be at least halfway lucid. “I’m sorry… I don’t feel well. I think I need to stay here. You remember the rest of the way, don’t you?”

“I do, but this is no proper place for you to rest.” He leans around the corner and waves over a passing servant. “Would you assist Nie-zongzhu to his room, please?”

“Of course, of course,” the woman says in a tone that conveys she is apparently -unfortunately- used to this. “Come along,” she says, taking hold of Nie Huaisang’s hand and wrapping a steadying arm around his waist, as if guiding a lost child, and he follows her lead without complaint.

Jin Guangyao watches them go and squashes that sour feeling when it threatens to churn.

Answers.

Answers first.

---

The library he needs, he has decided, is not the primary library, the one that Nie Huaisang had been taking him to. No, he seeks out the room buried so deep in the Unclean Realms that no daylight reaches it, that he had only stumbled upon by accident back when he had been employed here.

Lighting the only lantern in the room with a flame talisman, he finds that nothing has changed since the last time he was here other than a thickening of the layer of dust.

Swallowing hard, he straightens his back and starts with the family records.

---

‘After much deliberation and testimony from the physicians and healers involved in the care of the first young master, it is the advice of the sect elders that- ’

He has relit the lantern twice, and he’s fairly sure it’s long past dinner when he sinks into a chair and slaps the open scroll down onto the table, feeling lightheaded and shaky.

A spirit-tethering.

Until he had seen the books Lan Xichen carried from the library of the Cloud Recesses, such a thing had been the stuff of fantasy stories. Even in the vaunted Lan texts, it was only described in abstract theory.

And yet there was apparently enough foundation to it that a serious proposal had been made to cast such a thing between a pair of children to keep Nie Mingjue from being torn apart by the saber he’d bonded with far too young.

He forces himself to keep reading, feeling his stomach sink with every passage.

Nie Haoran had argued viciously against the idea for two years, even offering himself as the tether, only to be shot down due to his own unstable health. He had only given in when his son had experienced his first qi deviation at eleven years of age.

Eleven years old.

Nie Huaisang would have only been five.

Jin Guangyao bites his tongue again and presses the back of his hand to his mouth to forcibly swallow back the bile that bubbles up in his throat.

The mechanics of the matter only make the horror of it even more stark. The only ones who would have been able to undo the tether would have been the brothers themselves. He finds notes, plans, all written in Nie Mingjue’s sharp-edged calligraphy, of how he would set his brother free once his own health became too compromised but before his mind was too unstable…

But he hadn’t done it.

Hadn’t been able to do it.

He’d deteriorated too quickly.

Instead...

Nausea continuing to roil in his guts like a thunder cloud, Jin Guangyao rolls up the scroll and shoves it back into place with enough force that it crumples, practically fleeing the room even though there is no monster there to escape, just-

It is indeed dark outside as he traverses the hallways, barely able to restrain himself from running.

No one answers when he knocks at Nie Huaisang’s door. He sucks in a sharp breath to ground himself, then carefully pushes it open.

The room is as stark as he remembers from his last visit. Though he knows he Lan Xichen have both offered to help, Nie Huaisang has yet to start replacing any of the possessions that his brother had burnt. There is a tray of food on the table near the bed, untouched and probably long cold.

The person he’s seeking is curled up on the bed on top of the covers, still fully dressed. Fingers twitch and scratch at his own arms as he shivers, most likely in the throes of a nightmare.

His lips are moving.

Jin Guangyao doesn’t dare read them.

He closes the door behind him and crosses the room to the bed. Nie Huaisang doesn’t react to the dip in the mattress as he sits down, nor to being pulled and shifted until the younger man’s head rests in his lap. When he gently removes the guan from his hair and begins combing out the braids, however, the fit finally eases, the anxious lines of Nie Huaisang’s face smoothing out as he calms.

Jin Guangyao closes his eyes for a moment and sighs.

He now knows what is wrong with Nie Huaisang, and he knows he is at fault.

He could lay the blame elsewhere. He wants to. The elders who’d made the proposal... Nie Haoran for allowing it... the healers who’d carried it out… It is most tempting to blame Nie Mingjue for having not undone it as soon as they were both grown.

But no. The fact of the matter is that Nie Huaisang’s condition can be laid at his feet. Had he not hastened Nie Mingjue’s death… He doesn’t regret that.

He refuses to let himself regret that.

But this…

Grief could be moved past.

Missing pieces could not.

He opens his eyes to find Nie Huaisang has shifted to curl against him, and he allows himself a small, weak smile as he begins carding his fingers through silken hair again.

He knows what is wrong with Nie Huaisang, and perhaps he can’t fix the damage already done, but there are still things he can do. Information he can find, pieces he can move or remove. He can make things easier.

“It will be alright,” he murmurs, then leans down and gently presses a kiss to the sleeping young man’s temple. The gesture makes Nie Huaisang snuggle closer in his sleep, and his own smile gains strength. “I took care of er-gongzi before, I will be happy to take care of zongzhu now. He is my responsibility, after all.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #fanfic #sangyao

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sunshinereversed · 4 years ago

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𝙙𝙮𝙡𝙖𝙣’𝙨 “𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡”: 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙨

I think it’s eerily prophetic how the song “Flowers on the Wall” (performed by the Statler Brothers) radiates so strongly with Dylan Klebold. The country tune has already been associated with Dylan because it appears in the background of the video where he and Nate are driving to school. But if you really listen to the lyrics and reflect on Dylan’s inner struggles, they coincide strangely well.

Let’s take the very first line of the song.

I keep hearin' you're concerned about my happiness.

The constant ‘Are you okay? Are you sure you’re okay? You seem so down lately’ from his parents, especially Sue, is reflected here. His mother sees that Dylan is ‘moody and irritable,’ often withdrawn, spending time hauled up in his room. She notices the tightness of his voice, which is unlike him, and she offers to make him French toast or an omelet. This must be about something small, she thinks. Yet his sullen demeanor stays as days turn to weeks, and she must ask again in vain, ‘Are you okay?’

But all that thought you're givin' me is conscience, I guess.

It doesn’t even cross Sue’s mind that her son may be unwell. She is simply asking out of concern for him looking unhappy, believing whatever it is will solve itself out. His mother wears her heart on her sleeve, and it pains her to see him so sad. But what can she do if he refuses to talk about it? All she can do is ask and wait for it to pass. He’s a good kid, after all. He’ll do the right thing because she’s worked hard to instill her morals into what he does.

If I were walkin' in your shoes, I wouldn't worry none.

Dylan reassures her repeatedly. ‘I’m only tired. I have a lot of homework. Nothing’s wrong. No one gives me a tough time, I’m 6’4”.’ He wishes she would leave him alone. He thinks she wouldn’t understand; she wouldn’t listen. He tells his parents not to worry. ‘You can trust me,’ he tells his mother one evening after the prom. Dylan goes out of his way to prove that he is the golden child. It works, and they worry none.

While you 'n' your friends are worried about me I'm havin' lots of fun.

Dylan’s social life serves as a mask for what is going on in his mind. He goes over to his friends’ houses, bowls on Friday nights, makes videos after school, plays catch with his dad, and even watches old movies with his mother. He has pictures of good times with friends. Outwardly, he is smiling; life is a dream. This makes his parents rethink their concerns. He’s a happy kid who does normal teenage things. What is there to worry about? He’s assuring those around him that he’s fine.

Now here comes the chorus, which is a bit tricky but makes sense when you consider these things:

Countin' flowers on the wall.

If anyone is familiar with the book The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, this might be a clue. Like the protagonist in the book, Dylan is trapped in his four-walled cell (his bedroom) which is where he does most of his thinking and spiraling downwards. This is where he writes in his journal and vents his frustrations. It’s a toxic environment for his brain. His room is where he cries himself to sleep; hugs his pillow in loneliness; gets drunk by himself. Most importantly, it’s where he blurs fantasy and reality. While not as plainly mad as the poor woman from Gilman’s novel, Dylan is mentally tortured by what he perceives to be ‘an unfair/miserable existence’ and being ‘stuck in humanity.’ He rejects both, and often retreats into his fantasy where he is with his love and away from the world. The ‘flowers on the wall’ symbolizes his own deception of life when he is alone, and might not only symbolize his bedroom, but also his brain.

That don't bother me at all.

Unlike the real world, Dylan very much prefers to live in the fictional one he’s conjured within his mind. It’s his safe place. Paradoxically, his mind is also where he tears himself down and others around him. It’s a poisonous escape. Yet he is already so far gone in that escape, he can’t see the damage he is doing to himself. And he continues to do so, unbothered, and unaware.

Playin' solitaire till dawn with a deck of fifty-one.

‘Playing solitaire’ could be a metaphor symbolizing his isolation and loneliness, his solitude. Solitaire is a single-player game, and Dylan feels alienated most of the time, especially when he is sulking in his room. Thinking, always thinking. Sometimes, as the line implies, until dawn. He is a night owl who cannot sleep because his mind is constantly awake. Playing music, conversing in chats on the computer, formulating poems in his notebooks, doodling, or just thinking (negatively). He oversleeps often because he is up late doing these things. He is alone, in the middle of the night, consumed by his own sadness. Something is missing inside him, and that is why he plays with ‘a deck of fifty-one.’ He thinks a significant other is the thing that is missing, and if he finds her, he will finally be playing with fifty-two cards, figuratively.

Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo.

For Dylan, this is a dichotomy. An everlasting contrast. The balance between two things, lightness, and darkness, good and evil, etc. He’s doing grown-up things like holding a job, applying to colleges, driving a car, and as the lyrics say, smoking cigarettes. Marlboro, preferably. At the same time, Dylan is caught between acting his age and longing for simpler days. This is where ‘watching Captain Kangaroo’ comes in. It’s a kid’s show and is intended for such an audience. Dylan thinks back with nostalgia for his childhood, when life wasn’t full of disappointments, stress, high school bullies, responsibility. He hangs onto items that remind him of his youth: his stuffed koala, origami, classic movies, his trademark baseball cap, his love for fixing old cars with his dad. Dylan is stuck somewhere in the middle of the two, never truly satisfied with one over the other.

Now don't tell me I've nothin' to do.

Again, Dylan tells those around him that he is perfectly fine by engaging in normal teenage things. He hides how depressed he feels. Dylan becomes increasingly irritated the more people ask if he’s okay. The repetition of this line throughout the song is more like a cry for help than a reassurance.

Last night I dressed in tails, pretended I was on the town.

This could symbolize several things, but what comes to my mind is Dylan’s prom night. The fact that he even goes to prom is a pleasant surprise to his parents, confirming that there’s nothing abnormal lurking on the horizon. His father helps him get dressed in his tuxedo, struggles to figure out how the bow tie works, and he pulls his newly washed hair back into a neat ponytail. His mother thinks he looks quite handsome, comparing him to a character in a movie they are both fond of. For a moment, he is just a normal high school kid going to a dance. Nothing out of the boring ordinary.

As long as I can dream it's hard to slow this swinger down.

For one night, at the prom, Dylan pretends this is his life. He is good at blocking out what he considers evil, and Dylan allows himself to enjoy the moment. He’s had a lot of practice at ignoring his pain. If he can retreat into the fantasy he’s created in his mind, he is capable of anything, good or bad. It’s like an out-of-body experience. He’s not there when he’s there. Nothing can stop him. He has two settings at this point, 0 and 100. An unhealthy dreamer can be deadly not only to others, but to the dreamer himself.

So please don't give a thought to me, I'm really doin' fine.

As mentioned previously, Dylan flies under the radar to not be asked about his well-being. He holds out his arms to point to all these social activities he’s engaging in with his friends as if to say ‘Look what I’m doing. I’m fine. Do not worry.’ It’s a cruel deception, and he doesn’t even realize he is being deceived as much as those around him are. Dylan starts to believe what he’s telling others. He doesn’t think he is worth the worry.

You can always find me here; I'm havin' quite a time.

‘Here’ can mean one of several places: his bedroom, his mind, or perhaps his existence. Either way, ‘I’m having quite a time’ is a sarcastic remark. He’s drowning in his harmful thoughts, yet that’s where he feels the safest. It’s his protective shell that he puts up against the world. Dylan entertains the idea over and over in his mind that his love is waiting for him in another existence. No matter where he physically is, he’s ‘always there’, lost in his thoughts.

The chorus repeats. Dylan outwardly seems okay. Left to his own devices, he is not.

It's good to see you, I must go, I know I look a fright.

This is a goodbye. Even though it is a casual farewell, it has deeply painful undertones. He says he didn’t like life too much but hopes he will find peace in the next one. He offers a final goodbye to those he loved, family and friends. ‘It’s good to see you’ displays how detached he feels toward the end. These are no longer people he knows fondly; it was simply good to see them. The thoughts must end, and he must leave before they worsen. Like the lyrics suggest, he doesn’t want to stick around and knows he must go. A big part of his self-esteem had to do with his self-image. The line ‘I know I look a fright’ symbolizes how negatively he thought of his own appearance. Dylan couldn’t see his own attractiveness. He felt awkward due to his height, long facial features, shaggy hair, and the way he dressed.

Anyway, my eyes are not accustomed to this light.

This is the trademark dark sunglasses that Dylan wears almost everywhere. He hides behind them, shielding his tears from the world. The light comes from the sun, and he cannot withstand the same light that others can, a nod to him feeling isolated from humanity. Though he is called the ‘sunshine boy,’ his eyes are not meant for its light. So, he dawns the shades to (metaphorically) keep it out.

And my shoes are not accustomed to this hard concrete.

Unlike the sneakers worn by the jocks at his high school, Dylan sports black combat boots. They are unusual among the other students, but Dylan feels comfortable in them. Again, he separates himself from the rest of humanity. He is not meant for it. He knows he must go somewhere he feels free.

So I must go back to my room and make my day complete.

By the end of the song, it becomes clear that Dylan now lives inside the world he’s created in his mind. It almost becomes odd for him not to retreat there at least once a day if not all the time. But like the final lyrics, he goes to stay there forever and never to return.

The final repetition of the chorus only emphasizes the truth. He was not ‘doing fine’, despite all the work of convincing others the opposite.

The last line loops again before the song ends. The upbeat and happy tune only makes the message more haunting.

Don't tell me I've nothin' to do.

And no one did.

#analysis #flowers on the wall #dylan klebold #american tragedy

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mytwilightimagines13 · 4 years ago

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Amnesia (Book Two)(Part Fourteen)(Alec Volturi)

The final vote

"Chelsea is trying to break our bindings," Edward whispered. "But she can't find them. She can't feel us here. . . ." His eyes cut to Bella. "Are you doing that?" She smiled grimly at him. "I am all over this." Edward lurched away from her suddenly, his hand reaching out toward Carlisle. Jane looked at him and used her gift. At the same time, Bella felt a much sharper jab against the shield where it wrapped protectively around Carlisle's light. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't pleasant, either. "Carlisle? Are you all right?" Edward gasped frantically. "Yes. Wh-?" Carlisle said, but before he could finish his phrase, he was on the ground, screaming. Maeryn was using her gift too, working together with Jane to make sure she was able to hit her target. The foes looked alarmed, and Bella’s face was one of pure agony. However, Maeryn couldn’t stop Bella’s shield for long as soon her hands where forced open again, letting Bella protect Carlisle again. "Incredible," Edward said. “But be careful, Bella. Jane and Maeryn are working together. Once Jane has a target, Maeryn will crack your shield on that spot.” He whispered in Bella’s ear. Bella nodded. Maeryn felt very powerful, to know the foes where sweating a little was a good thing. The battle cannot go so easily. "Why aren't they waiting for the decision?" Tanya hissed. "Normal procedure," Edward answered brusquely. "They usually incapacitate those on trial so they can't escape." Bella looked across at Jane, who was staring at the group of foes with furious disbelief. She grinned a huge, smug smile right at Jane. Jane’s eyes narrowed, and she send another wave of pain towards Bella. Maeryn tried breaking through Bella’s second shield once she had broken through her first, but to no avail. Bella’s second shield protected her too much, as if it was her own skin. A skin Maeryn simply couldn’t rip open. Bella noticed this and pulled her lips wider, showing her teeth. Jane let out a high-pitched scream of a snarl. Everyone jumped, even the disciplined guard. Everyone but the ancients, who didn't so much as look up from their conference. Her twin caught her arm as she crouched to spring. The Romanians started chuckling with dark anticipation. "I told you this was our time," Vladimir said to Stefan. "Just look at the witch's face," Stefan chortled. Alec patted his sister's shoulder soothingly, then tucked her under his arm. He turned his face to the foes, perfectly smooth, completely angelic. “Just tell me who you’d like to hit, Jane. Perhaps Alec’s gift can pour through that small crack too. Once he is in, it will be easy to take them down. Except for Bella. She has a second shield I cannot seem to break. But I am sure Felix or Demetri will get her. She may be protected from mental attacks, but her shield is useless against physical attacks.” Maeryn whispered to both Alec and Jane. Jane calmed down slightly and nodded her head. “Give me a sign when your mist has reached them, I cannot keep her shield open for long at a time, but enough to at least floor some of them.” Maeryn said towards Alec, whom nodded his head also, his eyes never leaving the foes. Bella seemed to wait for some pressure, some sign of Alec’s attack, but felt nothing. He continued to stare in their direction, his pretty face composed. Bella’s face on the other hand, seemed worried as she clutched at Edward's hand. "Are you okay?" She choked out. "Yes," he whispered. "Is Alec trying?" Edward nodded. "His gift is slower than Jane's. It creeps. It will touch us in a few seconds." Maeryn watched her mate’s mist creep towards the foes. It was a strange clear haze that was oozing across the snow, nearly invisible against the white. It reminded Maeryn of a mirage - a slight warping of the view, a hint of a shimmer. Bella pushed her shield out from Carlisle and the rest of the front line, afraid to have the slinking mist too close when it hit. A low rumbling murmured through the ground under their feet, and a gust of wind blew the snow into sudden flurries between the foe’s position and the Volturi's. Benjamin

had seen the creeping threat, too, and now he tried to blow the mist away from them. The snow made it easy to see where he threw the wind, but the mist didn't react in any way. It was like air blowing harmlessly through a shadow; the shadow was immune. The triangular formation of the ancients finally broke apart when, with a racking groan, a deep, narrow fissure opened in a long zigzag across the middle of the clearing. The earth rocked under Maeryn's feet for a moment. The drifts of snow plummeted into the hole, but the mist skipped right across it, as untouched by gravity as it had been by wind. Aro and Caius watched the opening earth with wide eyes. Marcus looked in the same direction without emotion. They didn't speak; they waited, too, as the mist approached the foes. The wind shrieked louder but didn't change the course of the mist. Jane was smiling now. And then the mist hit a wall. The mist curled upward, seeking a breach, a weakness. It found none. The fingers of searching haze twisted upward and around, trying to find a way in, and in the process illustrating the astonishing size of the protective screen. There were gasps on both sides of Benjamin's gorge. "Well done, Bella!" Benjamin cheered in a low voice. Bella’s smile returned. I could see Alec's narrowed eyes, doubt on his face for the first time as his mist swirled harmlessly around the edges of her shield. "Now." Alec said, giving Maeryn the sign she had been waiting for. “Take your pick, Jane.” Maeryn whispered, ready to crack Bella’s shield once more. “With pleasure, sister.” Jane said in her childlike voice. Jane took her time, letting her ruby eyes glide over the foes. But Maeryn already knew whom Jane would pick. Jane smiled friendly at Maeryn. Maeryn nodded her head and focused on the one vampire who could destroy our plans, simply by knowing them before it had even been executed. Maeryn concentrated on Edward while Jane did the same. She used her gift on Edward, waiting for Maeryn to crack the shield. Maeryn made a small crack in Bella’s shield, right in front of Edward. Edward, whom had seen it coming, prepared himself for the pain and fell down once it hit him. Alec’s mist slowly crept inside, aiming for the chocolate colored wolf, with the little girl on top. Jacob fell to his knees, no longer being able to sense anything anymore. The three vampires smiled in triumph. But this triumph was for a short time only, as Bella used all her energy of her gift to close her shield, cutting Alec’s mist and blocking out Jane’s pain. But it didn’t matter. The foes knew they were no longer untouchable. It would be a difficult fight, but at least it would be a fair one, seeing as everyone could use their power. And Bella knew this too. "I'm going to have to concentrate," Bella whispered to Edward once he stood back up followed by Jacob, Renesmee still on his back. "When it comes to hand to hand, it's going to be harder to keep the shield around the right people. Especially when Maeryn keeps cracking it." "I'll keep them off you." Edward replied. "No. You have to get to Demetri. Zafrina will keep them away from me." Bella said as Zafrina nodded solemnly. "No one will touch this young one," she promised Edward. "I'd go after Jane and Alec myself, but I can do more good here." "Jane's mine," Kate hissed. "She needs a taste of her own medicine." "And Alec owes me many lives, but I will settle for his," Vladimir growled from the other side. "He's mine." “And I will take the newborn. She seems way to confident, and as soon as she is down, Bella’s shield will no longer be vulnerable." Peter said. “Besides, I know the most about killing newborns so that should not be a problem.” He said, cracking his knuckles. “Be careful though, she is a Volturi newborn, which differs from a regular newborn.” Carlisle said, knowing very well how the newborns are trained in the Volturi coven. “Don’t worry. Besides, if she is down, Alec will be vulnerable too, seeing as he lost his mate.” Peter continued, smiling at Vladimir, whom, in return, smiled back. "I just want

Caius," Tanya said evenly. The others started divvying up opponents, too, but they were quickly interrupted.

Aro, staring calmly at Alec's ineffective mist, finally spoke. "Before we vote," he began. Bella shook her head angrily. "Let me remind you," Aro continued, "whatever the council's decision, there need be no violence here." Edward snarled out a dark laugh. Aro stared at him sadly. "It will be a regrettable waste to our kind to lose any of you. But you especially, young Edward, and your newborn mate. The Volturi would be glad to welcome many of you into our ranks. Bella, Benjamin, Zafrina, Kate. There are many choices before you. Consider them." Chelsea's attempt to sway the foes fluttered impotently against Bella’s shield, but Maeryn wasn’t powerful enough yet to break through long enough for Chelsea’s gift to get through. Aro's gaze swept across their hard eyes, looking for any indication of hesitation. From his expression, he found none. "Let us vote, then," he said with apparent reluctance. Caius spoke with eager haste. "The child is an unknown quantity. There is no reason to allow such a risk to exist. It must be destroyed, along with all who protect it." He smiled in expectation. Maeryn smiled, knowing very well that if this was going to keep on going, the battle was only mere minutes away, and she couldn’t wait. Marcus lifted his uncaring eyes, seeming to look through the foes' eyes as he voted. "I see no immediate danger. The child is safe enough for now. We can always reevaluate later. Let us leave in peace." His voice was even fainter than his brothers' feathery sighs. None of the guard relaxed their ready positions at his disagreeing words. Caius's anticipatory grin did not falter. It was as if Marcus hadn't spoken at all. "I must make the deciding vote, it seems," Aro mused. Suddenly, Edward stiffened at Bella’s side. "Yes!" he hissed. Bella risked a glance at him. His face glowed with an expression of triumph that almost no one seemed to understand - it was the expression an angel of destruction might wear while the world burned. Beautiful and terrifying. There was a low reaction from the guard, an uneasy murmur. Including Maeryn’s, as she could smell two familiar and three unfamiliar scents. Four vampires, and one like the child on the chocolate brown wolf’s back. "Aro?" Edward called, nearly shouted, undisguised victory in his voice. Aro hesitated for a second, assessing this new mood warily before he answered. "Yes, Edward? You have something further... ?" "Perhaps," Edward said pleasantly, controlling his unexplained excitement. "First, if I could clarify one point?" "Certainly," Aro said, raising his eyebrows, nothing now but polite interest in his tone. "The danger you foresee from my daughter - this stems entirely from our inability to guess how she will develop? That is the crux of the matter?" "Yes, friend Edward," Aro agreed. "If we could but be positive... be sure that, as she grows, she will be able to stay concealed from the human world - not endanger the safety of our obscurity . . ." He trailed off, shrugging. "So, if we could only know for sure," Edward suggested, "exactly what she will become... then there would be no need for a council at all?" "If there was some way to be absolutely sure," Aro agreed, his feathery voice slightly more shrill. He couldn't see where Edward was leading him. Neither could Maeryn, nor Jane nor Alec. "Then, yes, there would be no question to debate." "And we would part in peace, good friends once again?" Edward asked with a hint of irony. Even more shrill. "Of course, my young friend. Nothing would please me more." Edward chuckled exultantly. "Then I do have something more to offer." Aro's eyes narrowed. "She is absolutely unique. Her future can only be guessed at." "Not absolutely unique," Edward disagreed. "Rare, certainly, but not one of a kind." Maeryn fought the shock, where there more creatures like Renesmee? The sickly-looking mist still swirled around the edges of Bella’s shield. And, as she struggled to focus, she felt again the sharp, stabbing pressure against her protective hold. But Maeryn wasn’t helping this time. She had grown

curious to their soon joining guests, her curiosity winning it over her bloodlust. "Aro, would you ask Jane to stop attacking my wife?" Edward asked courteously. "We are still discussing evidence." Aro raised one hand. "Peace, dear ones. Let us hear him out." Jane bared her teeth at Bella; and she couldn't help but to grin back at her. "Why don't you join us, Alice?" Edward called loudly. "Alice," Esme whispered in shock. "Alice!" "Alice!" other voices murmured around the meadow. "Alice," Aro breathed. Alec's mist still tested, seeking a weakness - Jane would see if Bella would left any holes. And then Maeryn heard them running through the forest, flying, closing the distance as quickly as they could with no slowing effort at silence. Both sides were motionless in expectation. The Volturi witnesses scowled in fresh confusion.

#alec volturi #volturi #volturi imagine #vampire #twilight imagine #twilight

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aestheticseungmean · 4 years ago

Text

Skater Boy-Kang Yeosang

The consequences of a dare led you to a new group of friends who hung out at a skatepark. You’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard and now you’ve got a teacher.

7.1K words (I swear they keep getting longer each time)

Warnings: None, maybe like five cursewords

Requested by no one

Edited: once

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It was a dare.

That was the only thing that was running through your small mind as you ran away from the guy chasing you, scared of what he might do. “Wait-“ He stopped for a breath but you kept running wanting to keep as far away from him as possible, “Come back you little brat.” The beating of your heart was fast, fast to match your breathing that was pumping what you thought was not enough oxygen in your body. What was the dare? You were dared to kiss a random student from your college, anyone you wanted, and in return, you’d get 150 bucks. 150 dollars that you could spend on anything, even that new guitar you saw in the music shop beside the small diner you practically lived at. The same guitar that reminded you of your grandfather who played the guitar every day on his front porch.

“I dare you-“ Somi paused for a dramatic effect, “to kiss anyone on this campus!” Murmurs interrupted in your friend group as they tried to figure out who you would kiss. Lisa stepped forward to add in her own words. “We will each chip in 25 dollars which adds up to 150.” “Kiss someone for money. Yeah sure.” The hint of alcohol buzz from the party last night made you feel light and daring. Whipping their phones out to record you, their mouths dropped as you tapped on the shoulder of a girl. “Excuse me.” Her cotton candy hair waves bounced as she turned her head towards you. “Oh hi, ______! Do you need something?” Heads turned your way, curious as to why you looked so nervous. “I’m sorry,” you whispered before grabbing her cheeks softly and kissing her. Cheers and whistles somehow seemed to echo outside if that was possible.

A large hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you towards him. Shit. Shit. Shit. You repeated under your breath. It was the girl’s boyfriend, the captain of the fencing team, and the Chinese club. “Hi, Jackson?” It wasn’t anger in his eyes, it was worry. “You better run. Her dad is here and he saw it.” Right on cue, the girl’s dad, a very influential man, ran after you. You took off running in the first direction you could escape. “GET BACK HERE!” You hoped that doing track in middle school to get out of gym class would be of help so you called on the will to run faster. But alas, to no avail, you weren’t running any faster than you were now. The first thing you were going to do if you don’t die is make the girls double the money. “I WILL NOT HAVE YOU TAINT MY DAUGHTER YOU-“ You focused on something else knowing he wasn’t going to say nice things. “Wait-“

Carefully, you scrambled up the small wall and hopped over it, landing in some thorns but those would heal, you couldn’t necessarily rise from the dead. The man’s voice grew distant as he ran further, apparently not seeing you enter the fenced area. “Hey, are you hurt?” A male on the shorter side from all the males you knew approached you. “A little but I’ll survive,” you grumbled out as you picked a thorn out of your arm. “May I help you?” He looked harmless so you agreed allowing him to pick out the broken thorns in your hair. “Wow, Hyung. We leave you for one minute only to find you playing Tarzan with a girl.” It was another boy, this time a slight bit taller with a slender and handsome face. “Shut up, San.” “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your little playmate?” You couldn’t tell who was talking this time due to the searing pain in your shoulder where you landed first in the bush from hell distracting you. “No. I don’t even know who she is.” Suddenly, all eyes were on you. “I’m _____, nice to meet you and I am covered in thorns because of escaping a consequence of my dare.”

The group of boys were a bit taken aback by your abrupt introduction but introduced themselves. San, Hongjoong, Mingi, Seonghwa, Yunho, Jongho, and Wooyoung. You observed your surroundings when you had the chance. The vast area in front of you was all concrete save for the little plant areas by the walls. In the middle of the blocked in space, there were dips in the concrete. Ramps and stairs were scattered across the length of one side. To the other side, there were rails of all sizes and lengths. The concrete was immaculate with little cracks for optimum smoothness for the people in the park. Then it hit you, it was a skate park. You watched in wonder as people on scooters, skates, rollerblades, and skateboards did tricks and flips that you could only imagine doing. One boy caught your attention with his unique style of tricks, reaching heights on flat ground higher than you could jump regularly.

Hongjoong took you out of your trance when he accidentally pulled hair instead of a thorn. A yelp escaped your lips as your hand flew up to rub at the stinging pain hoping to soothe it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he apologised. “Joong is stronger than he looks,” Wooyoung teased, ruffling Hongjoong’s hair gaining a glare in return. When you were both sure that you got every thorn from hell off of you, you stood up and stretched your aching muscles. “I think I should get heading back to college-“ your words were cut short when you saw the father outside of the gate checking out the area, looking for you. “Or maybe not.” His brows furrowed as the man looked around. The minute his icy grey eyes landed on you, he marched through the gate and towards your way seething with anger. “YOU-“ Although you didn’t know the boys well, you silently looked to them for help hoping at least one of them would be able to protect you from the wrath of a conservative father.

Jongho stood in front of you acting as a shield should the guy try anything. One by one, the boys surrounded you, encasing you in a circle of safety with Hongjoong in the front where the guy was. “Move, my business is with that little brat who had the nerve to corrupt my daughter.” Some glances were made towards you, a few surprised, a few confused, and a few quietly cheering you on. “I’m sorry sir, we simply cannot do that.” Hongjoong’s voice was calm and clear yet strong and assertive like the ocean. “I SAID MOVE! I’m a very VERY powerful man and don’t think I can’t get this stupid park REMOVED.” You flinched and grabbed on the back of Jongho’s grey hoodie. Loud noises have always scared you, that’s how you grew up knowing you did something wrong. It was the only time people ever yelled at you, the only time they had a reason too but it still made you cower when someone raised their voice. You didn’t realize you were almost choking out Jongho’s hoodie until Wooyoung grabbed your hand and held it much to Jongho’s thanks.

“Shh, he can’t hurt you. We got you, _______,” Wooyoung whispered softly, effectively calming you down a bit. “It’s not your fault he’s yelling at you.” Confused as to if he already knew you, you looked up at him and you could tell in his eyes that he’s been in a situation similar before. His soft chocolate brown eyes held guilt and pain and sympathy. “You can’t have this park removed, sir. This is owned by a friend of ours who loves skateboarding, there is no way she’d sell.” “Yeah! Especially not to you,” Jongho taunted. The man threw his meaty hands in the air in defeat but his words were the opposite. “Give me the brat and I’ll leave you guys alone.” You winced at the emphasis on brat like it was a derogatory term and honestly, it was starting to feel like one. “No.” The guy, frustrated, lunged forward to grab you. His sausage fingers got so close to your face, you could smell the fake cigar residue residing on his unwashed hands. His fingernails were dirty and unkempt, bound to give you some kind of disease if he so much as scratches you.

But he couldn’t get close enough to scratch you. Jongho, whom you assumed was the strongest since he was alone in the fight, had punched him square on the jaw. The guy’s dirty hand left its position in front of your face to go and protect his own. “I don’t know who you are but you will be going to jail for assaulting me,” he seethed but Jongho paid no attention. “Next time you think about touching someone, make sure you don’t.” By now, a few of the resident skaters had started to form around the lot of you, watching and recording, ready to jump in if need be. A girl who looked a bit older than you strolled forward with some of the police off the street who saw the last bit of what happened. “Sir, this young man will not be going to jail, you will.” Cheers erupted as the man was cuffed, screaming the entire way out. “I'M RICH, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!”

“Sir, I do not care that you are rich. I care that you get a lesson of respect in our jailhouse with Big Dan.” A sinister smile crept upon the face of the police at the mention of Big Dan. “Don’t worry, Big Dan will keep you safe...in his yard,” another policeman threw in. Unfortunately, though you were safe, you had to stay until the police came back to get your side of the story and allow you to go home. “Let me drive you home. To make sure you are safe.” The female cop stood there patiently awaiting your answer. They had assigned her to interview you for mental reasons. To make sure you weren’t going to be scared if a big, burly policeman were to interview you which in hindsight is a good idea but stupid in your mind. “Casandra, we’ll take her home.” The group of boys stood behind you ushering you to join them. “Well, I suppose that would be better for you. Go ahead, go with the boys.”

You ran over, happy you didn’t have to go home in a cop car and be the college news of the week. You still were going to be the talk of the day but it will be because of the dare and coming home with seven attractive men. “Are you okay?” You turn towards the voice to see whom they called Seonghwa. “Yeah, I’ll be okay once I get home to my apartment and take a nice long shower.” “Do you live alone?” You nodded, yawning right after. “Do you think you’ll be okay?” “He’s not a mafia boss, I don’t think he will send any henchmen after me. Besides, I’m sure the girls will be hounding me about what happened.” The apartment complex loomed in front of you, even the doors made you feel small right now. The boys followed you up to your apartment, something that would be creepy if they hadn’t been so kind and helped you. “Shit!” You cried out realizing you don’t have the keys and you sure as hell didn’t leave a spare in the hallway.

“What?” Hongjoong inquired, worried that something was wrong. “I hope the girls are here because I don’t have my keys.” You knocked loudly on the door in the famous pattern that let the girls know it was you when you visited them. “Is that a magic way to open up the door?” San joked hoping to lighten the mood. You laughed a little which made him beam in accomplishment. “No, it’s so the girls know it’s me.” The door slammed open and you got smothered in hugs. “Oh my god, I thought you died. You look like you got ran over and-“ the moment they saw the boys, all attention was on them and not you. “Who are the cuties?” “Friends, now move into the apartment before Mrs.Kwon comes out here and yells at us.” You shivered at the thought of the old lady waddling out with her cane giving you the evil eye before screeching at you.

“Would you guys like to come in? I can order pizza as a thank you.” “We wouldn’t want to impose,” Hongjoong politely declined. “But I want to impose,” Mingi said before making his way over to you. The shortest chuckled and gave in. “Alright but I’m helping pay because these guys are expensive.” A smile graced your face as you let them in, the girls secretly thanking you for blessing their eyes. You shut the door behind you and turned towards the girls. “Do you guys know where my stuff is?” “I put it on your bed,” Lisa replied, not taking her eyes off of Wooyoung once. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the room to find your phone and wallet. On your bed laid your backpack and purse with their contents spilled on your bed like a mountain of odds and in stuff. You rummaged through it countless times trying to find your phone but ultimately you were unsuccessful. “Girls, where is my phone?” “Here I’ll call it!” Jongho offered, trying to get away from the girls who were flirting with them.

He rushed to where you just came from pulling you with him. His grip wasn’t tight but it was enough to know that he was desperate to get away. He shut the door and slid down the back of it, sighing. “If I had to hear one more pickup line followed by a wink I would’ve screamed.” “They are very stubborn when they are flirting, sorry.” You tried to offer sympathy but you didn’t know how to offer it. You’ve never really known when you were being flirted with. “What is your number?” Jongho had his phone out ready to call your phone. Once you gave him the number, he pressed the green call button and listened for the ringing. You could hear a faint male hello come from his phone. “Put it on speaker.” He complied and soon the male’s voice echoed through the room. “Hello?” “Jackson?” How could he have your phone? Did one of the girls give it to him? You didn’t have to think for long as he told you why. “You dropped your phone when you took off. I tried to give it to the girls but they were busy trying to figure out what to do.”

A few more words were exchanged later and you were on your way to meet Jackson on the campus lot to get your phone back. Jongho opted to go with you for “protection” as he had put it. It was chilly out but that was expected since fall was around the corner. Jackson was already waiting on the bench by the light post. “Hey, sorry about what I did to your girlfriend.” “Wait- girlfriend? You’re explaining when we leave.” You raised your hand to his mouth to shush him. Jackson shrugged. “It’s not that personal for me. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me.” “It was a dare,” you confessed. He nodded, shrinking into his coat feeling a bit of the breeze. “Let’s not do it again, please. She might start to go after you,” Jackson joked making you laugh. “I promise I won’t. Give her my condolences for my actions and her father.” “Oh, she’s thankful for that. Her dad has been annoying her for the past 23 years of her life.” Jongho tugged the sleeve of your sweatshirt to let you know it was getting late. “Well, I got to go. Bye, Jackson!” “Bye.”

The apartment was chaotic when you reached home. All of your games were out and being played in different areas of the apartment, most likely because of the girls. Drinks were strewn everywhere also courtesy of the girls who knew they were free to pretty much anything in the area. At least they kept the boys entertained so they didn’t feel awkward. A knock sounded on the door behind you making you turn around and open it. “Pizza!” “Thank you, here is your tip.” The delivery boy thanked you and left you with the 10 pizzas teetering in your hand. Thankfully, Jongho who was right beside you, took half of them and carefully stepped over the boys, girls, and games. You tried to follow suit but you weren’t necessarily the most graceful person. Somi grabbed four of the pizzas and left you with just one and you thanked her, feeling less burden carrying just one pizza. Everyone cleaned up their games and put them back before you allowed them to grab a pizza and sit on the couch to watch a new movie.

The time went by quickly and so did the pizza. Even though you had just met the boys, it felt like they have been your friends forever. They gave you that sense of comfort and you almost felt like you could tell them your deepest darkest secrets without being judged or laughed at and it made you feel good. Maybe this newfound friendship would be a long one. Seonghwa was the first to stand up, distracting you from thinking about them for much longer. He collected the trash and attempted to clean up a little bit, not wanting to leave the house that he was a guest in messy as it would eat him up alive. Little by little, the boys all stood up, said goodbye to you, and asked for your number to be able to meet up with you again under different circumstances. You complied and walked them out. Exhausted from the day's events, you laid down in your bed not bothering to wake up the girls. Almost immediately as your head hit the pillow, sleep consumed you and dreams filled your head. Thankfully, tomorrow was a weekend so you had nothing to do.

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A few of the girls had left due to papers to write for their unbearable professors. Somi, Lisa, and Maria stayed over since they were in the same class as you and also had no homework. You grabbed a quick shower washing the bad vibes of yesterday off before starting today. Once you were satisfied, you threw on a random pair of jeans and a loose shirt. “Hey, Wooyoung asked if he and the boys could come over today so I said yes,” Somi nonchalantly stated as you made your way towards the diminishing stack of pancakes Maria had made. Grabbing one, you started to shove it in your mouth. “You gotta stop shoving things in your mouth, you look like a hamster right now.” You attempted to tell her to shut up but it came out muffled. “Someone’s at the door, go get it hamster,” Lisa teased, watching you grab another pancake and opening the door. “You have something in your mouth,” San pointed out while poking your cheeks, making you swallow the now chewed pancake.

“Ooh, pancakes!” Yunho eyed the last one in your hand and you sighed before handing it to him. “What!? Did the pancake loving _______ just give up the last pancake to Yunho?” Somi asked in disbelief that you actually gave up any food let alone a pancake. “Yes I did, I’m capable of being nice thank you very much.” You allowed the boys to enter into the apartment and sit wherever they want. “We want to know if you three want to go to the skatepark with us!” “I haven’t been in years, I want to go!” Maria exclaimed which took you by shock because she’s never mentioned she knew how to do any skateboarding or such. Nevertheless, you and the girls agreed but now you had to wait for them to get ready. You plopped down on the couch next to Mingi and sighed. “Everything alright?” He asked. “Yeah, just sore. Those thorns felt like talons digging into my skin.” Jongho perked up ready to say something he hoped to make you laugh instead of cringe. “If it makes you feel any better, I think that guy yesterday is having a worse day.” You giggled remembering the bloody nose and busted cheek on the man while he was being carted away to Big Dan.

A sharp ring filled the air with its cries signaling someone was getting a call. You assumed it was Seonghwa judging from the way he reached for it first putting it on speaker. A deep voice cut through the air startling you. “Hyung, are you coming today or what?” “Yeah, we’re bringing a few friends though so we are waiting on them.” An ‘oh’ came from the other side and you couldn’t tell if it was a good oh or bad oh. “Is it that person from yesterday that decided to go over the wall into the thorns instead of walk through the gates?” The voice inquired, just slightly curious because you were the first person that had the balls to climb the wall and fall into thorns. “Mmhm. Them and a few of their friends.” “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” With that, he hung up not caring if Seonghwa had said goodbye or not. It came across as rude at first but when you saw that none of the boys paid attention to it, you assumed that was just part of his personality. “We’re ready!” You turned to see the girls all dressed in different styles which makes you wonder again, how did you all become friends when you were so different?

The park wasn’t as crowded as usual which was a bit of relief. Somewhere along the trip, the group was forced to stop so Maria could buy a skateboard since she left hers at home hours away. Lisa decided to buy roller skates to see if she could skate around in them again like she did when she was a toddler. You bought nothing knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay up that well so it was a waste of money. Maria was the first to start refreshing her memory and soon enough, she was doing tricks on the half-pipe and in the pool-like area. Feeling envious, you watched as she aced everything almost as if she never stopped. Lisa on the other hand, struggled a bit. She fell many times before she remembered the little tricks and tips her father had taught her. “They’re so good.” Your voice was laced with jealousy but your face was stoic. “Careful there, someone might think you are jealous,” San teased. “Because I am. I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride a skateboard but I never had a teacher.”

Hongjoong had stated that his friend would be there soon. It wasn’t long before Maria rolled up with a big grin on her face. “That was so fun! You guys should try.” “______ will!” Someone volunteered you and you wanted to slap them but before you could protest, Jongho had pulled you up towards the skateboard. “Just stand on it and I’ll push you.” He helped you up onto the skateboard. Just standing there, you felt queasy and wobbly. “I don’t think I can do this,” you cried out as Jongho pushed you forward on the skateboard. “Of course you can. Your balance can’t be that ba-“ His words were cut short as the skateboard flew out from underneath you. You fell forward, your eyes shut bracing yourself for the impact onto the cold, hard concrete. It never came. Hands had grabbed your arm to save you from falling as your face came into contact with a firm chest. The hands pulled you up so you were in a standing position. “Yeosangie to the rescue!” Wooyoung cheered out as you caught a glimpse of the boy in front of you.

Your jaw dropped and you let out an inaudible gasp. It was the boy you watched the day you fell in the park. “Careful,” his words were brash and empty. Yeosang turned towards the boys and headed over to sit on the concrete garden ledge with the others completely ignoring you. “Sorry,” you mumbled, not caring if he heard or not. “Be nice, Sang,” Hongjoong warned watching the interaction between you two knowing that his friend wasn't the nicest to new people. He didn’t mean it to be rude, Yeosang just didn’t know how to give the best first impressions and Hongjoong didn’t want him to scare you away. Luckily, you brushed it off not being so good with first impressions yourself. “Hey, you’re the dude with the awesome frontside heelflip!” Maria exclaimed, gushing over Yeosang’s skills. “Thanks.” This time his voice wasn’t as formed, as if he was embarrassed or flustered that someone had complimented him. “Is Sangie blushing?” “No.” He stood up and walked back towards the rails ignoring everyone for the rest of the day.

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It’s become a ritual for you to go with the boys to the skate park. You swore Yeosang hated you or had a vendetta against you at least but nothing was clear. Occasionally, the girls would go with you but more often than not, they were busy with school or work. Today was no different save for the fact that the boys were busy as well. For some reason, you found the grinding of wheels against concrete and the here and there cheers when someone did a trick soothing. So, to clear your mind you headed to the one place you could probably find blindfolded. The sun was beating down on everything around you, sharing its warmth which was a nice change of pace from the chilly days. Instead of sitting on the concrete garden wall that has become a staple to you, you sat on a little grass patch in the corner. You brought a book in case you wanted to read but all the action made you curious. Eventually, you did get around to reading and somehow you were lulled to sleep. It was sunset when you woke up. Your book which you had fallen asleep with open was now neatly closed with a bookmark in it sitting next to your bag.

You sat up to see if everything was still in there when a coat fell off of you. “Don’t worry, everything is still there,” a familiar voice responded. Quickly, you turned your head towards where the voice came from, and low and behold, it was Yeosang. He was walking towards you with his board in one hand and a helmet in the other. You stifled a laugh at his helmet hair flying everywhere but all in all it suited him. “Is this your jacket?” Yeosang nodded and you rushed to dust it off and give it back to him. “Keep it for now, it’s getting cold out. I was waiting for you to wake up to make sure you got home safe.” It made your heart leap with joy that he waited for you but you also felt guilty. Mingi had said that Yeosang did not like to be out late because he likes to sleep and you kept him from his sleep. “I’ll treat you to some chicken in return for me stealing your sleep time.” Yeosang chuckled lightly before holding his now free hand out to help you up. “Sounds like a deal but uh…. who told you you were stealing my sleep time?” “Mingi.”

Thankfully, the chicken place was still open by the time you got there. They allowed you and Yeosang to sit at the outside tables and eat while they cleaned the inside preparing to lock the doors. “Mingi is a liar,” Yeosang stated in between bites. You were taken aback a bit but questioned why he said such a thing. “He does it to be funny and his words are mainly true but if there is food involved, you can interrupt my sleep time anytime.” You giggled at his statement feeling honoured knowing that the best apology for Yeosang is food. “So why did you come to the skate park today?” “I find skateboarding fascinating and fun looking so I go to watch people mainly. I like to live vicariously through them.” Suddenly, you found your last piece of chicken depressing and returned it to its place on the plate. “Why live through people instead of learning it?” “I’ve never been able to have someone teach me anything. Like, I don’t even know what the foot positioning is or how to stop, I just know that you push off and somehow end up standing sideways on the board.”

“I’ll teach you.” You perked up and looked him in the eye. “You’re serious?” When he nodded you jumped up in joy. “This is going to be the best day of my life.” Yeosang laughed watching you dance into the empty streets and back towards him. “YEOSANG IS THE GREATEST PERSON EVER!” He was glad that you guys were in the shopping part of town otherwise, he would’ve killed you for embarrassing him. The whole way back to the skatepark you skipped happily beside Yeosang who eyed you from the corner of his eyes. At first, you were worried about the darkness of the park but Yeosang reassured you that there were lights for people who’d rather skate at night. “We won’t be doing the fancy stuff. Just trying to get you to go like two feet without falling off for today.” “You mean, this will happen more than once?” He gave you a ‘duh’ look and opened the gate for you. “And they say chivalry is dead.” “It is, I just don’t trust you to open this gate. You might attract some random person threatening to arrest you again.”

You scoffed but walked in anyways leaving him behind. “I’ve got the skateboard.” Sighing, you turned around and walked back towards him. “That’s what I thought.” “You’re mean.” He waved the skateboard in your face as if saying ‘I’m the teacher so be nice’. “Okay so starting off, positioning. Put your foot here, just beneath the front bolts. Once you get more comfortable, it might change.” You did as he said putting your foot beneath the top bolts. “Wait.” Before you could ask, Yeosang put the helmet on your head and snapped it. “Safety first, don’t want to destroy the last two brain cells of yours.” You grumbled, mocking his words. “Last two brain cells. Asshole.” “What was that.?” Mustering up the most innocent eyes you could, you turned towards him and replied. “Nothing, sir. I’m ready for further instruction.” The ‘sure’ look on his face let you know that he had heard what you said but nevertheless let it go. “Hold my hand for balance while you push off. To get used to the skateboard, you must first get used to the bumpy feeling of the wheels against the concrete.” You grabbed his hand in a vice-like grip making him wince. With your left foot, you pushed off and move it behind you on the board. “Now turn your feet.”

By the time you had started to turn your feet, you fell off the board. “Good first run. Let’s go again.” It was around midnight when Yeosang tried to coax you into going home. “One more time, please!” You were bound and determined to get this right by the end of the night. “Fine.” Once again, you grabbed his hand and pushed off. Successfully, you managed to turn your feet and ride for a good 5 feet before the skateboard stopped itself. “I DID IT, YEOSANG!” You jumped off and high-fived him jumping up and down at your success. “Meet you here tomorrow at the same time.” “No, I’ll see you tomorrow before then. The boys asked me here to hang out.” Yeosang nodded and began to walk you out. “Where do you live?” “At the apartment complex by the college.” He walked you the entire way home making you feel warm inside. You bid him a goodbye and watched him skate away before heading inside feeling as though you just solved the mysteries of the universe.

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Yeosang didn’t interact with you much during the day except for a small wave but when night came, he was all business. You two had a deal. He taught you how to ride a skateboard and you bought him chicken. It was a fair deal to both of you and it worked out for the following month. At this point, you were able to skate so Yeosang decided to teach you a few basic tricks. It was an everyday ritual. From sundown to midnight you practiced and honed your skills with Yeosang who was surprisingly really fun to hang out with and is very encouraging. The boys were starting to notice you and their friend hanging out more and talking even to the point he’d come up to you with your favourite pop he had just bought. Two of them (WOOYOUNG AND SAN) decided to tease you and him about your growing friendship calling it a crush which led to you blushing and Yeosang smacking them upside the head.

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Your phone buzzed signaling you got a text.

You laughed at the little banter you just had and decided that you could finish your show before heading out. Being at the park in the middle of the night without Yeosang felt weird and it wasn’t like you could practice skateboarding as you had always used his. You sat on the ledge humming to yourself, waiting on Yeosang and shivering slightly. “Why did I forget to bring a jacket?” As if the world heard you, the breeze stopped for a few minutes allowing you to warm up. “You didn’t bring a jacket. Pitiful.” “Yeosang!” Your body jumped up before you could realize it and was already moving towards the boy. “I got you something. A present I guess.” “Eh? You got me a present? Are you sick?” You reached out for his forehead making him step backwards. “I’m not sick. Now take this present and open it before I return it.” He handed you a wrapped box with a cute little bow on top of it making you smile. “I uh, customised it,” his voice quavered as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously awaiting your reaction. The wrapping tore easily giving you a quick entrance to a long blank packing box.

Your hands fumbled with the tape a bit before Yeosang had to stepped in and helped you. Inside was a skateboard that was brand new with multicoloured wheels. Gingerly, you pulled it out and flipped it over, running your fingers along the cherry blossom design on the bottom of the deck. In the bottom corner stood his painted signature. “Yeosang, you did this for me?” Tears welled up in your eyes as you set down the skateboard and grabbed the helmet and pads which sported a similar look. “Oh, Yeosang.” You tackled him in a tight hug thankful that he had worn a black shirt so your tears couldn’t be seen. His arms wrapped around you in response hugging you back. The two of you stood like that until Yeosang pulled away and put the helmet on you, snapping it like he had the very first night. “Give it a try.” You grabbed the skateboard from him and set it down carefully, almost trying to preserve the prettiness of it.

The skateboard itself was smooth to ride on. The tricks you had mastered were carefully done and perfectly executed making Yeosang cheer. “I want a picture of us together with our skateboards,” you huffed, a little chilly. “Okay.” The way he said it with such ease made you realize how far you have come in the friendship. A month ago, he wouldn’t even have looked at you for more than 3 seconds let alone be in the same 5-foot area as you and now here he is, willing to take a picture with you. Your phone sat atop the bench a few feet away with the 10-second self-timer on. Yeosang pulled you closer to him and held his skateboard so the design showed. You decided to do the same, sporting a big smile as you heard the shutter go off. “I can’t wait to skate around tomorrow on my brand new skateboard! This means so much to me. Thank you.” “Stop before you cry again. People will start thinking you are getting hurt,” he teased making you laugh and the tears that tried to creep out, dry up.

“Let’s see if you can land the frontside 180.” Your face fell at the name of the truck that has been getting your hopes down for days now. “Hey, don’t give me the long face now. I believe in you,” Yeosang cheered you on watching as you attempted to push off the ground. As soon as you landed it perfectly, you yelled in joy quickly kicking up your skateboard and running towards Yeosang. “You did it.” “I’m so happy I could kiss you right now!” He stopped for a minute blushing at the thought of your lips meeting his. “Wait- Are you actually blushing right now? The Kang Yeosang is blushing because I said I could kiss you right now?” “Shut up!” His voice was a few octaves higher now that you called him out. “Yeosangie, what am I going to do with you?” “Stop embarrassing me. I know that you probably don’t like me like that so just let it go.” Now it was your turn to stop. Just those words made you feel hurt that he wouldn’t think you’d like him but au contraire.

You’ve been harvesting a crush on him since the day you fell off the skateboard and busted your knee. He had brought you to the nearest pharmacy and tended to your wound telling you it would be alright while you cried. Now, every little thing he did with you made you flustered and it’s even worse when San and Wooyoung tease you about your crush. You tilted Yeosang’s face up to look at you and you could see the fear of rejection in his eyes. “Yeosang. Why would you say such a thing?” “Because it’s true.” A soft sigh left your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows. “I think I know me better than you do and I’m pretty sure I’m telling myself to kiss you.” He started to open his mouth to question you but you cut him off with a soft kiss to which he reciprocated. His soft hands made their way up to the back of his neck and pulled you closer not wanting the kiss to end, not wanting to wake up from this dream. Your lips to him, felt like clouds with a hint of cotton candy flavouring. Odd to some but it made him feel high on cloud 9. His lips to you were soft and warm with a taste of the vanilla cola he drank earlier. A euphoric feeling that you’d never be able to get enough of.

You were the first to pull away for air leaving Yeosang chasing for more. “Will you go on a date with me?” Yeosang was surprised that you asked him out first, not expecting you to be so bold even though you were the one who just initiated the kiss. “We’ve been on like 37 dates already if you want to count our skate practices,” he said as-matter-of-factly. “Yeah but we didn’t do couple things though.” “We can do them from now on. I mean if you want to…” you nodded and hugged him, confirming your relationship. “I just realized your hands are ice cold.” “I’ve been cold for the entire night, I forgot my jacket, remember.” Without saying anything else, he took off his jacket and handed it to you. “Wear this from now on, so the boys get the memo.” “You’re the jealous type aren’t you?” He almost got offended that you’d say such a thing but he knew it was true. “I’m not that jealous. I just don’t like guys who are good looking. For example, the boys.” “Whatever, Romeo.”

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The first thing the boys did when you met up with them was question your skateboard and gear. “Let’s see if you can do better than last time.” You glared at Jongho, dropped down your board and skated away from him towards Yeosang who was behind the mini-vert fixing his wheel. “Hey, babe. Looking fine today.” “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself,” he teased making you gasp and smack him lightly. The boys watched in the distance gobsmacked that you were actually touching Yeosang. “Is your wheel good?” “Just a second. Yeah, just had a rock making the wheel not move but I got it.” To make sure, Yeosang rolled the skateboard back and forth to check. “I think the boys are confused,” he said, glancing up at the boys. “Want to make them even more confused?” “How do we do that?” You shrugged hoping he had an idea instead. “Do tricks? Kiss? Hold hands skating back? All of the above?” Why did he give the fourth option you wondered. “Which do you want to do?” “All of the above?”

Needless to say, Jongho’s jaw dropped when you did an Ollie, Hongjoong almost fainted when he saw you guys holding hands, and Wooyoung and San screamed when Yeosang caught you off guard by kissing you. “Who? What? When? Where? How?” San fired question after question not giving you or your boyfriend time to answer. “Me and Yeosang. Dating. Yesterday. Here. We both got crushes on each other.” “But you guys never talked though.” A plethora of yeahs came from the others. “Good point, Yunho but, long story short, I fell asleep here one day, Yeosang waited, I took him out for chicken, I told him I wanted to learn how to skateboard, and he taught me. He also got me this skateboard yesterday which led to some words which led to a kiss which led to dating. Kind of backwards but it works.” Seonghwa sported a disgusted face when you mentioned the kiss, grossed out trying to imagine the guy he’s been friends with for many years and has never dated in that time, kissing his new friend. But ultimately, the boys were happy that you two were together and happy. Now came the hard part, telling the girls who’d never let you hear the end of it.

#kpop #ateez #kang yeosang #atz yeosang #yeosang oneshot #yeosang fluff #ateez yeosang #yeosang #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you

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idkiwillfindone · 4 years ago

Text

Post Sky High part 1

Sumary:

Giorno, Guido, Ungalo and Prada finally reached the little girl's house but there are bad news waiting for them

TW:

Implied child abuse

This is a part two of Post Bohemian Rhapsody

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Prada didn’t liked when strangers spoken to her, especially if they didn’t had the courtesy that she deserved, so, naturally, she was really annoyed when a weird man screamed at her for reading too loud, and on top on that the guy even took her book whitot asking. She stayed silent for the rest of flight swearing that she would make him pay for his impudence. But then when they arrived to Key West and she looked over him she realized that the man fell asleep while reading, how could someone find Peter Pan’s story so boring to fall asleep? To her the story seemed so fun and interesting, did this guy just hated fairytales in general? No that was impossible, she loved fairytales, each one of them created new worlds, experiences and memories, she just couldn't imagine someone who hated all fairytales, that guy had to have a favorite story and she was determined to find out which one.

Giorno checked on the rearview mirror of the car, the two guest had fallen asleep hours ago probably tired out by the flight. Guido was next to him peacefully driving, fortunately he hadn’t realized yet that there where four people in the car, their destination was Orlando, the city where Prada lived whit her parents, Giorno didn’t really believed the little girl when she said that the man, during the road trip he learned that his name was Ungalo, was her babysitter and he had reasons to believe that she was actually trying to run away from home, once they would got to her house he would have judged if her parents were worthy of raising a kid, but he played along whit her just to have an excuse to keep the man close. He hadn’t told Guido yet but from the moment he stepped in the airport Giorno felt a weird connection whit him and he was pretty sure that the man was able to see GER, he wanted to know who this Ungalo really was and then decide what to do whit him. “Giogio!” His boyfriend’s brought him back in the present as Giorno saw out of the car Prada’s home... or what was left of it, the whole block of houses was destroyed, the scene was full of policemans and ambulances, it seemed to be in a post apocalyptic film, “what the hell” Giorno muttered, “ugh- what’s going on, are we arrived yet?” he heard from behind his seat, looking again in the rearview mirror he saw Prada and Ungalo stretching out after their long nap, “what the fuck happened here?” Said Ungalo after taking a better look at the outside of the car, “oh god, Giorno” Guido started “it’s because of the four, we are four! How did i not noticed before!” Well there he goes “what is this guy talking about?” Asked Ungalo confused “it’s a long story” Giorno simply replied “listen we’re going to find Prada’s parents, you stay in car sir” the blonde got out of the car whit his partner and the little girl “remember running away is useless” he added before ultimately approaching the rubble.

“Excuse me mister officer” Giorno said to one of the policeman that were scanning the area “can i ask what happened here?” The cop took a deep breath before answering “I’m sure you’re aware of that strange phenomenon that involved the whole world just a bunch of hours ago” “the fictional characters that came to life?” “Yes, Superman came to life in this block and fought whit one of his enemy, leaving twelve injureds and thirtyfive dead” Giorno and Guido shared a worried look aware of what this could mean, “sir we were looking for this little girl parents, she told us that they lived in this zone” the cop crouch down to Prada’s level “hey little miss, can you point me your house?” Prada smiled pleased by respect that the cop was showing her, then she pointed to one of the many pile of rubble, the policeman got up whit sad look on his face he slowly shook his head before returning to his work, The two men looked at each other again, they both silently agreed to let Guido handle the situation with Prada, he was pretty good whit kids after all, “hey little one are you ok?” He gently asked “i don’t have any other relatives that can take care of me” she mumbled “does this mean that I can spend more time whit you two?” Prada continued whit more energy “of course honey, we’ll be by your side through this this difficult time” “sweet! You guys are a lot cooler than my parents, i mean he look like Rapunzel and you have a gun” Prada immediately responded happier than ever “sure, but you don’t have to bottle up your feelings, you can cry if you feel like it” Guido tried again “nah i’m fine, oh! What’s our next stop? A library? McDonald’s? Disneyland? Can we go to Disneyland? I always wanted to visit it” “sure but-” “yey let’s go” the little girl happily ran back to the car excited for what was waiting her for the rest of week “well she got over that quickly” commented Giorno not less surprised than Guido “so... what now?” His boyfriend asked scratching the back of his head “we go to Disneyland, again” the blonde calmly replied “and if Prada really doesn’t has no one that can take care of her we will bring her and her babysitter back in Italy with us” he added as he started to walk to the car “that seams like a plan” concurred Guido.

When the two of them reached the car the first thing that they noticed was that , besides Prada, the vehicle was empty, when Giorno asked her where Ungalo was she simply responded “i don’t know” the blonde scanned the crowd until he found a familiar purple beanie trying to get away from them, Giorno sighed as he summed Gold Experiences Requiem and returns Ungalo’s actions back to zero “what did I tell you about trying to run away?” Giorno asked whit the same tone a father who’s calmly scolds his son would use “oh come on what do you want from me? I heard what that cop said, the brat’s parents are dead, they can’t lecture me for neglecting a task that they didn’t gave me” Ungalo protested “since Guido and i decided to take Prada’s custody we will need you and all the instructions that her parents gave you” That wasn’t one of Giorno’s most brilliant lie but for the moment it would have work “I HAVE NO IDEA WHO THAT KID IS! god! you are just insufferable as my...” Ungalo stopped as the realization of how to escape from this situation came to him “my stupid brothers!” He exclaimed whit new energy “they know that i would never babysit a child because they’re just useless little parasites�� now that striked Giorno interest “you have brothers?” “Yea! They’re two, last I saw them they were in an hospital with...” He hesitated again, this time all the joyful mood he had gained disappeared as he remembered about the other man in the hospital, he had fucked up way too many time as kid for forgetting what could happen if he disappointed a person older or stronger than him “Ungalo?” The blonde called “is everything ok?” His voice sounded genuinely worried which just made Ungalo more pissed whit him, this guy had no right to interrupt his depressing childhood memories “yea yea” he quickly dismissed him, Giorno nodded to his response but mentally took note of his behavior “as i was saying” Ungalo restarted “last time I saw them they where in a hospital whit a plan to get rid of a bitch called Jolyne and her friends” “hey Giorno’s great niece is named Jolyne too” interrupted Guido “what weird coincidence” “yep weird, unlike the fact that i don’t give a fuck about Giorno’s family tree” Ungalo remarked in a monotone-passive aggressive tone, the gunslinger decided to keep quiet for the rest of the other man explanation “the closest to our position now should be Rykiel” he lied “alright then, let’s go to find this Rykiel” the blonde respond hopping that this other brother would be more collaborative, “let’s find him quickly” Guido added “we are still four Giorno, we cannot take a risk like this anymore”.

So their next stop was decided and thanks to Ungalo and Rykiel’s family connections it was easy to track the other brother position. Unfortunately for the little girl their trip to Disneyland was delayed. She quietly sat in the backseat looking at the landscape go by, “hey, uh, Prada?” Called Guido from the passenger seat earning her attention, he wanted to do a last tentative to get her to talk about her parents, she had just lost her family the kid had to show some reaction “are you sure that everything is alright? You know, about your parents” “I’m ok, especially cause this means that I don’t have to see my therapist anymore” she responded happily, once again Guido didn’t expected this answer “a therapist?” “Yes, he said that I had to see him twice a week” she promptly explained “he always makes me do all this boring things like speaking about my feelings, talking about the other’s feelings and some more stupid stuff” “sounds like hell” Ungalo commented mostly to himself than anybody in the car “exactly! And everything because one of my teachers snitched on me after i pushed her down the stairs” the car fell silent after Prada’s words said so casually, the three man needed to elaborate them “y-you pushed down the stairs your teacher?” Normally Giorno hated repeat a phrase, it didn’t matter if it was one of his own or someone else’s, but in that moment he really couldn’t find anything else to say “and a girl on a wheelchair” the kid proudly added “the jury gave her the ballet trophy that i wanted” “so let me get this straight” interjected Ungalo “you physically attack two persons” Prada turned over him with an annoyed face, she had this conversation thousands times and it always went the same “yes” she angrily muttered “whitot verbally attacking them first?” Now her expression was a total surprise one, that was definitely new “yes?” The man let out a loud sigh of frustration “goddamit children are so dumb, you cannot physically attack someone right out of the blue like that, you need to make sure that whoever you’re attacking is afraid of you” “Ungalo I don’t think this something you should teach her” intervened Giorno, his normally calm voice betrayed a worry tone, But apparently Prada didn’t agreed whit him “no no why? I want to know how to make people afraid of me” then she turned towars Ungalo whit sparkly eyes “please theach me” “it’s not that hard kid” The man began whitot any trace of hesitation “you just need to find your victims weaknesses, there’s anything that’s making that teacher you attacked vulnerable?” “She was kinda sad for her divorce” “there! That’s something you could have use” Prada stayed quiet listening in awe as the man kept talking, she didn't even remotely expect that this Ungalo would actually be so cool, but it was nice surprise, meanwhile Giorno and Guido sat whit their eyes whide opened while they listened to a twentythree years old man teaching a ten years old how to verbally abuse the people around her, Giorno, Giorno, Giorno! the blonde heard his boyfriend call through his stand yes Guido he responded already knowing what he wanted to say when we’re going to return in Italy we’re going to find a good therapist he stopped only to hear that Ungalo was still going on whit his disturbing explanation for both

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I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

I really wanted to include Rykiel in this chapter here, but it was becoming too long and i’m and the school is draining me from every energy, i swear that he is going to be the first character to appear in the second part. Also I’m sorry if in some parts the story is rushed but has i said school etc

#ungalo #ungaro #giorno giovanna #giomis #guido mista

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Note

I don't know if you want to talk about this (and feel free to ignore this if you don't want to answer), but I wanted to ask which side of the Ethren mess you're on? I know in the beginning you were on his side, but I've seen so much hate and so many accusations and I don't know what to believe anymore, and I trust your judgement

I have to be honest -- when I first saw that a blog had been created with the specific purpose of “calling out” someone in the HPHM fandom...I blocked it.

I come to this fandom largely to escape from the real world. It’s been one of the few remaining sanctuaries I’ve had during this quarantine and from my own mental health problems. I’ve made a lot of friends in this community, and I feel very strongly about putting out more positive content than negative, as well as trying to digest more positive than negative. I don’t like the thought of a stranger posting stuff online about someone else who -- let’s be honest -- nobody truly knows unless they actually physically know them IRL. Unless one wants to go down an entire rabbit hole of getting to know a person uncomfortably well, there’s not much anyone can do to prove what’s true. And I know it sounds really immature and selfish of me, but...I was never that interested in learning much about this fandom’s members’ personal lives, excluding what the friends I’ve made have been willing to confide in me on a case by case basis. I have plenty of my own drama happening over here on my side, and I just want to have fun roleplaying with people’s characters and making content for both mine and theirs. It’s been one of the few things that helped me fight back my untreated and severe chronic depression after being furloughed from my job thanks to the COVID-19 shutdown. My job had been my escape, and without it, I was drowning -- one of my only life preservers was making content for this blog. So for my own mental health, I shut out the negativity, because I wasn’t emotionally or mentally able to deal with it. And admittedly, it felt to me as though this sort of thing really shouldn’t be handled online when -- again -- this sort of thing seems like it’d be better handled in the real world and the legal system, rather than in the court of mostly anonymous public opinion. And it also feels kind of nasty to reblog content from people online who simply liked the character Ethren Whitecross and made fan content for him, just to harangue them for it. It’s like attacking all Harry Potter fans for being transphobic just because they enjoyed something created by a trans-exclusionary radical feminist -- particularly when in the case of Ethren, the vast majority of us don’t know Ren personally. One could’ve related to Ethren’s story without knowing anything about his creator, and people did, often not because of any kind of malevolent reasons.

After receiving this message, though, I unblocked the blog in question and read some more of their posts. When I’d first blocked it, the only post of theirs I saw in the HPHM tag came across as rather hostile, and combined with Ren’s blog saying that an ex was stalking him, I don’t think it’s unsurprising that some people were initially warded off by it. But reading some of the other stuff written on that blog since...I must acknowledge there’s a lot of troubling stuff there. It made me very upset, and made me kind of regret that I’d initially jumped into making a stance without hearing both sides. But at the same time, considering that someone from outside the fandom had arrived specifically to target someone in the fandom, supposedly on behalf of someone else who also had no ties to the fandom, it looked a lot like cyberbullying to me at the time. Now it’s very clear there’s more to the story, and for that initial leap to judgment, I am sorry. I wasn’t in a place where I understood fully what the discussion was about before I took a side, and that’s something I should know better than to do.

But I think this comes down to, in the end, my answer to your question, regarding sides.

I don’t want to take a side -- because I didn’t come to the HPHM fandom to fight people. I came here to be happy.

I know someone could read this as cowardly and ignorant, but please, understand that I thought long and hard about this. This place has been a safe space for me, and I understand it has been for others as well -- a place where we can go to enjoy art and fanfiction for something we enjoy and roleplay as new, interesting characters with other people who have similar interests and creative leanings. I thoroughly understand that it can’t truly be a safe space if we allow people who would threaten other people’s safety into it, and I also thoroughly understand that people can include problematic aspects of themselves into their characters along with good things (just look at how J.K.’s apparent subliminal views on the LGBT+ community influenced how she’s handled Dumbledore). Both things are definitely things to be aware of, and it’ll be an ongoing struggle to try to propagate a truly welcoming and positive, and yet safe and supportive community. There will always be shadows and dark spots that aren’t easy to see, just like with all fandoms, and it’s good to now and again take the time to examine them.

But to quote a line from one of my favorite songs, “it’s hard to light a candle, easy to curse the dark instead.” I cannot log onto my computer and into this fandom every day and think about openly attacking someone else, regardless of whether they deserve it or not. This feels like something that the victim should handle herself in the real world, and I truly hope that she finds peace in whatever path she takes. But that is her story to tell, to write, and to play out -- it’s not mine. Mine is a story I have written and am still writing, where I’ve tried to find a way to be happy and be a good person despite everything in my life that has made that so difficult. And so I truly feel the only way I can approach this situation is to not let the things that hurt and drain me have power over my life, and put my energy toward things that build me up instead. I try not to visit tags or places online that could be triggering, and simply enjoy the things I do like. I’ve stopped spending money on things Harry Potter-related because of Jo’s stance on transgender rights, but still engage in the HP fandom and celebrate what is good in the original material and especially what its fandom has made out of it. In this case, I will simply do the same, particularly since from the look of things, Ren’s blog is no longer around for anyone to interact with anyway, positively or not. I’ll engage with blogs whose work I can still enjoy and give me some light when I most need it, and try my best to keep creating more light of my own for others. I will light candles, and little by little, I’d like to think the room will be bright enough that the dark will be significantly smaller and less scary than it was.

I understand if any of you disagree with or are angry about anything I’ve said. I know “playing both sides” is not a great thing to do, and I truly don’t mean to. But I’m afraid I do have to take my own side here, for my own mental and emotional well-being. I responded to this Ask because I felt like saying nothing would’ve truly been the cowardly thing to do, by pretending the issue isn’t there at all. I’m not pretending it isn’t there -- but I do think it’s a battle I’m ill-equipped to engage in, not because of my personal morals, but because I don’t feel emotionally able to play the role of judge, jury, and executioner in this court of public opinion.

#ask me #personal #fandom issues #opinion #*heavy sigh*#hphm #hogwarts mystery

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lilixloveswhump · 4 years ago

Text

“Everything is okay.”

Whumptober Day 6 (Prompts: “Get it out”, “Stop, please”)

Fandom: X-Men

Characters: Erik Lehnsherr, Peter Maximoff, Charles Xavier, Raven Darkholme, Hank McCoy, Kurt Wagner

Word Count: 1980

A/N: IHATETHISSOMUCHOMGGG and it’s FUCKING LATE it’s 12:12 AM and I have a class tomorrow at 9:05 AM and I still need to shower and I might have a breakdown so much for getting this out on time hAhA. bUT aT lEaSt iTs dOnE!!1! I didn’t proofread because I hated it while writing it and I go back and read it in the state I am I might really actually cry :) So please excuse any errors, my mental health and self confidence literally cannot handle fixing them right now. We will try again tomorrow :)))

TW: blood (like a lot, but not all that graphic cuz i got lazy with description), guns? bullets? one swear word (poop), peter gets shot

He swore to God he was cursed. Why else was everyone around him constantly dying? It was God’s punishment for something, he just wished it didn’t always have to involve the people he loved; His mother, his wife, his daughter, and now…

Erik was going to watch his son die too.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Some mutant children were being held hostage by a group of Purifiers; they were just supposed to grab them and get out. Kurt, Raven, and Peter had volunteered to go first and Charles was happy to send them. The only reason Erik was sent along was that the kidnappers were armed, Charles had said with guns. For once, Erik was there just in case things got out there hand.

Of course, he didn't let it get that far, disarming them as soon as they'd arrived but restraining himself from aiming their weapons back at them, as he didn't want to traumatize the children anymore than they already had been. The underdeveloped mind was a fragile one, and Erik thought it important to look out for the kids.

Turned out he was focused on the wrong ones.

How could he have not felt it? The one, lone gun hidden in the bushes on the edge of the woods, why didn't he check the woods? He didn't even know it had fired until Peter cried out in pain, clutching at his calf as Kurt was bamfing them all back to the jet. He was immediately checked on once inside, but he insisted he was fine, instead concerned with getting the children buckled safely in their seats. There was a little blood, but Peter barely seemed to be affected, so they believed him.

That is, until his leg gave out. Right out from under him, he crumpled to the ground, seeming just as surprised as everyone else by the paralysis. Panic had slowly begun to take over his face as Kurt and Erik moved him to a chair, and by the time he was strapped in he was sweating bullets. They hadn't been in the air for longer than ten minutes before he'd started seizing.

Hank met them when they landed, though Erik would have preferred Kurt to bamf Peter straight to the medbay, the blue mutant was tasked with settling the rescued children.

It was quite the monstrous task, wrestling Peter onto the stretcher as he squirmed and shook, seemingly completely out of control of his body. Raven helped to push it, as did Erik despite their constant complaint of him going too fast. In his opinion, they weren't moving nearly fast enough.

He was cut off by Charles, nearly tripping over his chair as he came zooming around the corner. Raven and Hank raced on, and Erik scoffed as his attempts to follow were constantly thwarted by Charles's maneuvering. It was when the doors to the medbay closed when he got desperate, a devastated gasp leaping from his tongue and he was suddenly acutely aware of the layer of sweat on his palms.

"Get out of my way!" Erik shouted, taking another step to the side, his path immediately being blocked. "Charles-"

"Erik, I'm sorry, if you're in there-"

"Charles, he's my son!"

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't be in there with them. You want Hank to be able without you breathing down his neck-"

"CHARLES, PLEASE!" His plead clawed its way past his throat, leaving the extent of his vulnerability on full display. A rational Erik Lehnsherr would never dare let anyone perceive him to be weak or emotional, but right now that was the furthest thing from his mind.

Something changed in Charles’s eyes before he moved to the side, finally allowing Erik to pass through. Not that it mattered, if he’d said no, Erik would have simply moved him himself.

They had the doors open in a matter of seconds, and Erik was quickly at Peter’s side, though Charles seemed hesitant to allow him in the room. Raven pressed another sticky pad to Peter’s face, lighting up yet another machine before moving on to the next. Hank on the other hand was rushing around doing God knows what, Erik wished he was paying more attention to his son.

“Hank, what are you doing? Put him out!” Raven scolded the doctor, clearly struggling to clip the restraints as Peter thrashed on the table.

“I can’t! His blood pressure is too high!” Hank shook his head, scoffing as he pulled the thermometer away from Peter’s forehead. “His temperature is 104, Erik what the hell happened out there?”

“I...I don’t know. He was shot-” Erik breathed, suddenly faced with the difficulty to form a coherent sentence.

“And you didn’t stop the bullet?!” Hank whipped around, preparing a syringe as Raven finally tightened the buckle on Peter’s left arm.

“I didn’t…” Erik whispered, flashes of the scene playing out in front of him like a projector screen. He could never stop anything, not when it mattered most. He only ever brought pain to the people he cared about.

“You can.” He couldn’t.

“Everything is okay.” No, it wasn’t. It never was, and it never would be no matter what he did. Peace, war, pacifism, genocide, it all ended the same: with the people he loved caught in the crossfire.

“ERIK!” Hank snapped at him, adjusting the IV bag as it rapidly filled with Peter’s blood. “Did you see what hit him?”

“No, I-” Erik shook his head maniacally, his fingers finding themselves ripping away at his scalp. Didn’t Hank think that if he’d seen what hit him he would have stopped it?

“Did the bullet come out?” Hank asked, turning his attention to the makeshift tourniquet on Peter’s calf, blood dripping from the ends onto the floor.

“I...I don’t-”

“Come on, Erik! What the hell am I working with here?!” God, how Erik would have quite literally killed to know.

“Erik, think.” Charles’s hand on his arm brought him a bit of clarity, and he momentarily wondered if Charles was in his head, but his mind was too much of a mess to tell.

“I-I...no. No! No, it didn’t.”

“There’s no exit wound.” Raven said, Hank working at the knot of the gauze they’d wrapped around Peter’s leg, and though he was tied down, Hank’s fingers continued to slip as he writhed in agony.

“Hank, why is there so much blood?” Charles asked and Hank huffed, a shrug falling off of his shoulders.

“I-I don’t know. There aren’t any major arteries the bullet should have hit. He shouldn’t be bleeding this much unless he was on blood thinners, o-or maybe...bitten by a snake or-”

“Wait!” Raven silenced him, and they all turned to her, eager to hear her input. “Like...like poison?”

There was pause...then, “Shit.” Hank tore off the tourniquet, stuffing Peter’s oozing wound with gauze. “How long has this been in his system?”

Erik and Raven exchanged a glance, neither of them seemed able to latch onto a sense of time since Peter had been showing sign of decay.

“How long, Raven?!” Hank snapped, the panic in his voice doing absolutely nothing to quell Erik’s continuously rising anxiety.

“I don’t know, maybe twenty…?” Raven stammered, blinking down at Peter rolling his head around in pain as anguished moans tumbled from his mouth. Charles moved to sit behind him, shushing him quietly as he placed his fingers to the boys temples and shut his eyes, likely in an attempt to provide him some kind of comfort.

“Thirty.” Erik jumped in with confidence at the sight of his son’s face screwed up in pain. “It took about ten minutes for him to show symptoms.”

Charles flinched, a quiet gasp escaping his mouth as Peter’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his jaw clenching up with the rest of his muscles as he quaked severely on the table. “He’s seizing!”

Hank cursed, waving Raven over to take over where he was putting pressure on Peter’s leg before springing up and rushing back over to his desk. He yanked open drawer after drawer, slamming each closed before moving on to the next.

“Hank, what are you doing? Get it out!” Raven shouted and Hank growled, slamming his fists on the desk after yet again searching through another useless drawer.

“I can’t just take it out, it obviously wasn’t a normal bullet. It could have attached itself to multiple arteries and veins, he’s already lost too much blood, we can’t risk anymore he might go into shock.”

“Well, how long does he have left? If you don’t do something now, the poison will kill him before you can even worry about the bullet.” At her words, Peter’s body went limp, and Erik felt his heart stop. Charles placed his fingers on his head again, the room completely silent before a Peter gasped shakily, his heart rate monitor screaming as it raced to keep up with his pulse. The boy began to sob, his silver locks sticking wetly to his forehead as he banged it into the cold table beneath him, glassy eyes flying open to desperately search the room for help. They land on Erik, whose heart shatters when the lost look in them grabs hold of his soul, even more so when the words that follow leave Peter’s mouth in a tortured sob.

“Please, make it stop.”

It froze him for a second, their locked gaze slowing the entire world around him as Erik moved his feet, his calloused hand falling to Peter’s hair and his thumb brushing away the stray tear running down his cheek to his ear. The boy whimpered creakily at his touch, and Erik pressed his forehead to his son’s, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath before whispering so that only Peter could hear, “Everything is okay.”

He pulled away, eyes still shut as he relocated to that place Charles had helped him find so many years ago, the pull from his hand to bullet buried in Peter’s leg like that of a magnet. “Hank.” He started, tuning in on the feeling, emptying his lungs of air and stilling the shaking that had raked through his veins. “Get his bleeding under control.” Before any questions could be asked, Erik gripped onto the bullet, enveloping it in his magnetic field and ripped it out of Peter’s leg, with it a hoarse shriek straight from the boy’s core. Multiple “ERIK”s rose from his friends, Peter once again falling limp as an ocean of blood poured out onto the floor. It was all blur after that, lots of shouting and moving and the beeping of Peter’s heart rate monitor slowly growing slower until Erik found himself in a shroud of indigo smoke outside of the emergency room.

“Hey man!” A pair of golden eyes stared up at him, his head bobbling as the blue mutant jostled him about. “Wake up!” Kurt snapped in his face and Erik knocked away his wrist. He glanced around the hallway before stumbling over to the wall and leaning back onto it, sinking to the ground as his hands dug their way into his hair. He heard footsteps approach before catching a blur of blue in the corner of his eye as Kurt sat down next to him.

“...It’s my fault if he dies.” Erik whispered, and he could see Kurt turn to look at him before he pushed himself up on his knees, bowed his head, and pressed his hands together.

“Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…” He mumbled, just loud enough for Erik to hear and join in if he so wished, but not too loud as to be overbearing.

And for the first time in a long time, Erik was glad that someone had faith. Even if it wasn’t his own.

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mithrilwren · 5 years ago

Text

Strange Bedfellows

For @essek-week. The prompt for Day 2 was ‘loneliness’, which I did not so much fill, as approach from a downward slant and hope I landed somewhere in the right vicinity. Because yeah, this is not what I thought I’d write, but it’s certainly... what I wrote.

[Also on Ao3!]

“Please take good care of him! Make sure he eats enough! We’ll be back soon!”

“But I-”

The door closes. Essek stares down at the strange creature in his palms. The creature blinks back, then bites him at the juncture between thumb and forefinger hard enough to draw blood. Who can say who yelps louder: Essek, as he instinctively shakes his hand to rid itself of the unexpected pain, or the creature, as it falls from his grasp to the hard stone floor, then skitters around the corner into the next room.

That’s the last he sees of Jester’s weasel for two days.

---

His name’s Sprinkle, and he loves me so very much but Caduceus thinks he needs a break from adventuring for a little while. Please take good care of him!

“Sprinkle,” Essek hisses, down on all fours beside one of the many towering bookcases in his study. There’s nothing to be found in the darkness beneath, save a single ceramic dish that his own robe knocked so carelessly aside as he entered the room. He scoops the spilled contents - dried bits of liver, the best he could do without resorting to laying raw meat on the floor of his house - into his palm, then drops them back into the dish, one by one. Fifteen little clinks: exactly the same number of pieces as he’d added the evening before.

He’s both grateful and perturbed that there’s nobody there to witness his current state. There are documents piling up on his desk, reports he’s yet to sign, and here he is, without another soul in the world to help him sort out this mess. No one to call for aid, because the only ones he feels safe enough to share in his failure are the ones he’s presently accountable to.

He had expected some sort of test from the Nein, on their return to Rosohna. Some way of measuring his loyalty to them. He’d been prepared for a fight, for supplication, for promises of gifts or favours, for his own head on a pike. He hadn’t been prepared to be handed the means of his own destruction, in the form of a beloved pet that seems determined to let itself starve to death rather than accept any of Essek’s offerings.

Treachery and treason, she can apparently forgive. But the loss of her weasel? He suspects that’s a betrayal from which their friendship would never recover.

The creature, he knows, is somewhere within this room - his location spell can narrow his search radius that far - but the thing is so small, and his study so vast, and so full of hiding spaces, that he’s been forced to go on like this for a half hour, left spooled at last in a heap of robes at the center of the room, staring helplessly at the undecorated wall.

On the first day, he’d been sure Sprinkle was merely nervous of the new environment, but that food would draw the creature out. Most animals are capable of reason, presumably, and if Essek offered sustenance, and made no aggressive actions, surely this one would emerge eventually?

Surely?

Add it to the list of things that Essek has been woefully wrong about in this life.

He stares up at the lines of bookcases, filled with tomes meant more for show than for pleasure. They’re a perfect accompaniment to the rest of the house: full of unused rooms and corridors leading to nothing of value, save the architectural aesthetic to match the rest of the wealthy neighbourhood. It’s no wonder that a tiny weasel could evade him so thoroughly in a house with so much empty space, particularly when he scarcely leaves his office or laboratory for more than the length of time required to fetch food from the larder - and he’s been known to forget to do even that.

If there’s anything this experience has taught him - besides humility - it’s that Essek barely knows his own home.

He’s about to admit defeat for yet another day, go off and meditate restlessly while pondering a puzzle with no solution, when he hears the faintest scritching of nails against wood. Essek locks in place, swiveling his head so slowly that not even his jaw can disturb the air.

Peering out from beneath a glass cabinet of atlases, he spies a subtle glint: two beady eyes of black, fixed on the bowl in his lap.

Neither moves as they wait in their stalemate. Essek controls the food, which gives him some power, but Sprinkle is the more dextrous by far. Even if he could manage to get out his components in time, would a hold spell contain such a small creature, or would it slip from his grasp, never to be found again?

With little more than a word and a flick of his fingers, the bowl levitates into the air and floats to a space halfway between himself and the cabinet. The beady eyes disappear, vanished again into the darkness as the dish of liver comes to rest on the floor. Essek folds his hands in his lap, trying his best not to worry the already agitated skin around his nail beds, and waits.

At last, the eyes appear again, and then a nose emerges as well, tiny nostrils twitching in the air as a long body slinks into Essek’s view. He’s never seen an animal quite like this before. A svelte coat, left ragged and burned in places, but sleek around the face and eyes. A brilliant red colour with tufts of white at the paws, and a keen and mistrustful stare to match the trepidation in its slow creep forward.

He cannot hide, trapped as he by Sprinkle’s presence, but he feels compelled to give the creature its privacy all the same, and turns his head away as the creature finally reaches the dish and begins to eat.

It’s distracted. He could take out his components now. Perhaps even a gravitation spell, if it would not injure Sprinkle too greatly…

He flicks his eyes back, and finds Sprinkle’s eyes on him, cheeks are full to the brim with food, but ever vigilant of the threat in the room. He can see now the way the body crouching over the bowl trembles fitfully, miniscule shivers of terror running up and down its spine.

His hand, which had wandered to his wrist, curls into a fist and drops into his lap.

“I won’t hurt you,” he says, almost startled at the sound of his own voice, as soft as it is. He doesn’t often speak aloud when at home. There’s rarely anyone to talk to. “Please… eat.”

The weasel sniffs the air a single time, then takes the last of dried bits into its mouth, flees beneath the furniture once more, out of Essek’s reach.

Essek wonders, as he wanders off to meditate with his heart only mildly relieved, if he made the right choice. He could have taken the creature by force, trapped it in a cage, and the anxiety of the past two days would be at an end.

But some instinct compels him to wait. To be more delicate, if he can. Trust is hard to build, easy to shatter. He will not offer a gift in one hand while the other holds a chain, and return Jester’s pet more broken than before.

He’s caused her more than enough harm for one lifetime.

---

Essek sees neither hide nor tail of Sprinkle for the next few days, but the dishes he sets out are left empty by morning, and he calls that a success. Still, the worry won’t leave him be, lingering in the back of his mind through dull meetings and over political discussions, wondering at the fate of his reclusive houseguest. He can’t help but dread that the creature will be injured somehow in his absence, or worse, escape into the street and be trampled by a passing orcish footfall or the wheels of a cart.

It’s enough to send him racing home by the end of the fifth night, a locate spell already primed on his fingers when he’s less than a block away, and only able to breathe properly when he feels the gentle ping at the back of his mind, leading him home.

The reports have piled high enough now that he cannot simply continue to ignore them, so he drops the spell and heads reluctantly to his office, mentally preparing himself for a night of carrying the leaden weight of his own procrastination fixed around his neck.

After less than an hour, his head is pounding. When his vision begins to blur as well, Essek lets his head drop into his hands, willing the swimming letters to quiet. The workload feels impossibly heavy tonight, and he knows that’s his own fault for letting it get away from him, he knows, but-

Sniff.

Slowly, Essek’s head turns towards the slightly ajar door to his office. There, framed in the pale strip of light emanating from the hallway, sits a crimson weasel.

Essek almost believes it's a hallucination, for the first few moments. The weasel waits perfectly still in the doorway, unblinking and unmoving, like a taxidermied specimen on display, and he holds himself just as quietly. This is the longest he’s ever gotten to observe Sprinkle, and he tries to catalogue what he can, while he can.

Still harried looking, but the coat is a little sleeker than it was the last time he saw it. Bare patches of fur have begun to fill in, and the weasel’s previously gaunt torso now rounds a little near the hips, as though its belly is full for the first time in months. No shudders run down its spine.

It looks, in a phrase, not much worse for wear for its sojourn from the world.

Why then, he wonders, is it here?

“Are you hungry again?” he asks, heedless now to the ridiculousness of talking aloud to an animal that can’t understand him. His fascination is too great for embarrassment to pierce. The weasel doesn’t respond, obviously, but it takes a little step into the room, nudging curiously at the rug by the door. He falls silent again, waiting to see what Sprinkle’s next move will be.

At last, the weasel slips fully into the room, ignoring Essek now in favour of finding a dark spot beneath a chair and curling up into a ball. It’s about as physically far removed as it can get from Essek, while still being within the confines of the same four walls. But still, the creature chose to enter. Chose to share the same space, when it had a whole house at its disposal to hide. When it clearly still mistrusts him, but not enough to stay away.

“Are you lonely, little one?” he murmurs to no one.

They pass the rest of the night away in silence, but for once, it’s a companionable sort.

---

“Did he give you any trouble?”

“Not much,” Essek says, as Yasha eyes him dubiously, “but I think it would be better if Jester retrieved him. He doesn’t quite trust me yet, I’m afraid.”

“I would be surprised if he did,” Caleb says, as Jester rushes off to his office to collect her pet. “He doesn’t let any of us near him. I don’t think he’d let Jester either, if she wasn’t so… persistent.”

“Still,” says Essek, “we did make some progress over the week. Perhaps with a little time, and patience, there might be hope for a creature like that.”

Caleb’s lips turn up at the edges.

“You might be right.”

#critical role #essek thelyss #essek week #my writing #cr fic #i... don't even know guys #i swore i was just going to work on my au stuff and then this happened #learning how to people by dealing with equally unpersonable pets

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shoyouth · 4 years ago

Note

*falls in* hi :D may i request a reaction (or actually analysis if that works better) with dazai and chuuya and their thoughts/feelings on committment?

chuuya ; it’s not a question of whether chuuya can commit, but rather to who, and to what level of importance.

I wholeheartedly see chuuya as a romantic and a family man, the kind to sprinkle roses on the bed, treat you to fancy dinners, and to take your child to school. I believe it’s realistic to imagine that chuuya does want that (he’s oddly very normal, sometimes), but it’s not a priority in his life at that moment—I mean, he’s in the port mafia and constantly in conflicts, so presently, he’s very focused on himself, his work, and feelings of anger within the same regard.

If given enough time to simply rest, he probably likes to fantasize about romance and spoiling a partner. He probably likes to flirt around the town (not as terribly as dazai did though, of course, make sure to never compare him) but in terms of actually committing, well, that’s an entirely different issue. chuuya would like a relationship, someone to cherish, but he isn’t sure if it makes sense for him, for the time and his lifestyle.

We know chuuya can be caring—he hates dazai, yes, but isn’t he the one who made dazai stop shooting the dead body in their old days? Did he not let himself get bossed around by the sheep because he wanted to look out for them? He’s on the “evil” side but he himself is not without reason, feelings, or morals.

The most crucial point of whether he can commit or not is based on his loyalty to the port mafia. If you were to somehow become involved, you would have to understand that you come second to the port mafia, no matter how much he loved you. After the sheep betrayed him, he committed himself wholely to the port mafia; his workplace is his family, his purpose—it must come first.

But we must remember that chuuya is not the kind of person to half-ass his loyalties; you either receive all of him or none. Therefore the easiest way for him to be willing to commit to someone/feel comfortable being romantic and starting a family, is if you’re already with the port mafia. If not, it would be more complicated.

I don’t see chuuya ever pretending to not be with the port mafia; he is a genuine, direct person and would despise the idea of fooling you, and if he is going to give you all of him, he must show all of himself to you to begin with. You must accept him as he is, and he would only ever dare to do more than flirt if he felt like you were not hiding anything either. And, if you were determined to stand by him, you would have to give up your old life and join the port mafia. If you weren’t willing to accept all of him or, God forbid, beg him to leave the mafia, he would cut off your romance (no matter how long you’d been together/loved each other) and never return.

When mori was out of commission due to the virus, chuuya was the stand in leader. Therefore, with the power he possesses, you would instantly be a target as his lover. You would have to give yourself over to him as he did to you, and you’d have to trust that he’d protect you in the port mafia, whether you worked for them or simply stayed in their headquarters. He would hate to take away your normalcy and freedom, so whatever was in his power he would grant you; chuuya would love to spoil you and make sure you’re safe and comfortable.

So, in essence, chuuya would love to eventually fall in love and protect his partner, but he would only commit if it was an all or nothing for both parties. The bond he would probably have with his lover would be deeper than many other relationships, and I believe a trusting romance would do a lot to make chuuya feel comfortable, stronger, and to heal.

There is a constant reminder of danger though: the port mafia always comes first. And if you were ever kidnapped to get at chuuya, he would do anything in his power to save you, and if he were to fail, he would probably never forgive himself nor would he ever be the same. But if there was nothing he could do and he was forced to choose between either you or the port mafia, well, you knew what his choice would be from the beginning.

dazai ; simple answer, no, he cannot commit. very, very complex answer? yes.

We know dazai is emotionally very complex, even “dead” sometimes, because he is quite morally grey. This is in due part to his traumatic experiences with mori and the mafia, but he joined the port mafia to fill the void in him. Something in dazai is, with lack of better wording, not right, and there is some kind of psychological clog in his emotions and mentality. So to reach him romantically? That would be very difficult.

Possibility, a romance could “fill the void” in him, and though I don’t think he would even want to try that approach, it wouldn’t work for him. dazai wants to find meaning in living for himself, and that can’t be found through proving his worth and protecting others, like it works for atsushi (because even oda told dazai that saving vs killing didn’t matter much to him, but it would be more “beautiful” and more meaningful for dazai, though it’s debatable whether dazai‘s view of the two has changed). If he were to enter a relationship with this broken mentality, the romance would be shallow and only damaging towards both parties.

I would even go so far as to say that dazai has either locked his emotions far below the surface or there’s an actual disconnect. I don’t see dazai as “guarded” so much as “calculated” because it’s obvious that dazai thinks very logically and he is intelligent, almost to the extent of rampo. He predicts many moves of enemies and he seems to always know what to do. Though he may flourish an emotional/dramatic attitude, when left by himself, he is a lot colder and it sends a shiver up your spine. He is, after all, still an ex-mafia member, and he carries those experiences with him, whether locked away or present on his sleeve.

At the very least, dazai has trust issues. He may care for his coworkers, but at arms length. The only true friend dazai had was oda, and I believe that part of dazai died with him. It was only when oda planned to kill that dazai’s calculating and dramatic exteriors dropped and he panicked. dazai most likely never wants to open up to that kind of pain again, for he hates it, doesn’t he? Just like physical pain, romance entails fights, betrayal, jealously, anguish—dazai probably wants a double suicide because he must admire the deep kind of bond lovers have, the idea that you would only want to go out with them by your side—but he wishes to escape all of the pain and skip right to that bond, just like he searches for a painless death.

If you wished to still pursue him, to take him and all his psychological wounds and bandages, it’s like a gamble because of how unpredictable yet perceptive he is. You would most likely have to know who he is inside, who he used to be, who he is consistently hiding to instead be who oda told him to be. but to do so you must be very, very careful. Based on your wording, your circumstances, your body language, you could be perceived as an enemy trying to get at him and he will block himself from you with no entry, even if you prove yourself later. It’s easier to maintain an act on high guard than it is to tear down the barriers and bare himself, to think through his past and actions.

The only people who have really seen that past dazai were the old mafia members: mori, chuuya, akutugawa. I’m sure he doesn’t pretend everything in front of the ada, but similar to chuuya, for him to open up there must be some acceptance of him wholely, that there’s no chance of you running away after so much is exposed; he would only clamp up further, more intent on becoming the “good man” oda told him to be. To take off the bandages, you must be patient and understand that you may never get them all off, that he may never fully open up to you.

I do not see dazai as a very romantic person. Yes, he flirts with many women and always talks about pleasing a woman, but I don’t see him as the type to desire a partner to rely on and love, like chuuya. He is a very private person, and most likely loathes the idea of sharing all of himself with another—even from a logical standpoint, it would only prove as a potential weak spot. He may joke, but he wouldn’t be the type for flings, one night stands, or marriage.

If you were able to enter a romantic relationship somehow, he would perhaps put on a show of physical affection for the ada, holding your hand and boasting about you. If you’re made for him though, you would also know it was exaggerated, and the truest way to know he cares is if he is able to relax that tiny bit with you in private, that he lets you gently unravel his bandages, that he kisses your lips with a slight hesitation. You may never have a relationship with an official title and he may still talk about suicide, but you know you’ve found a place in his heart if he speaks seriously and may question committing the act, even if his uncertainty is brief.

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