#i swear to god everything awful that happened to them is somehow rooted back to joe fucking sr.

[strryhaze]

bobby looks so like ‘his father’s son’ here. his hair is clean-cut, styled away from his face, he’s got jack’s checkered coat, which is so ironic, and a nice formal tie, formal everything. he’s even sitting straight, no slouching in visible view. the softness of his youth and of his later adulthood is faded, hidden from plain sight, suppressed and stashed away. emulating his father so hard in this picture, he almost looks like him, even though he, in actuality, looks the least like him. (except for those icy blue eyes.)

giving kendall roy. giving icarus, but instead of reaching for the sun, it’s bobby reaching for his father’s approval. so close but always out of reach, always too hot to the touch. blazing-red and wrong.

[star-girl69]

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i cried a little while writing this tbh… i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: death, parent death, mentions of injury, crying, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Eighteen- I Know Loss

—-

The fire bursts forth from Hometree like you dropped a rock into water, burning outward on all sides, a ring of fire.

You eye it wearily, squeeze Neytiri’s hand, your bow long discarded and trampled into your haste to run to safety.

Eytukan runs alongside you, ordering The People out and into the forest, into safety, when suddenly his hand presses into your shoulder and he pushes you away, making you fall into Neytiri.

She catches you, when her father shouts for you to go.

Her face falls, and you watch as she reaches forward, hand on his arm, but he only shoves her away and shouts for her to go again.

“Neytiri!” you shout, the fire seeming all that much closer, the warmth sinking under your clothes, tugging her back.

She stumbles, eyes fixed on her father, but she is his daughter so she turns and squeezes your hand, so tight it’s like you’re her lifeline, and follows you deeper into the forest.

Other Na’vi scramble around you, everyone falling over themselves, tripping over roots and rocks they have known their entire life. Survival will do that to you, you have noticed. The world falls away until this is just all it is. You, your breath, and the prospect of safety.

You can hear people screaming, and then you can hear it. They cut through the sky like birds, shooting towards Hometree as if to catch their prey. But this is nothing natural, nothing normal. This is destruction in its simplest form.

It all explodes behind you like a million little deaths, a million little screams and lives lost. You imagine each plant petal, each inch of bark, all consumed by fire, nothing but ashes in their wake.

The ground shakes under you, like some vengeful god has come to exact justice for a crime you never even knew you committed.

Then, during one hard shake, rattling so deep you feel it in your bones, your heart, your legs give out and you bring Neytiri down with you.

You shout, and your throat feels like it’s been torn it two.

“Go!” Neytiri says, somehow fighting over the ash filling the air, the fear that takes a physical form in your lungs, like charred wood is filling you instead of air.

You manage to bring yourself to your feet, hand falling from hers, and it kicks at something in your heart but the need to live overrides all else.

The bombs explode, booming loud right in your ears, and you doubt you’ll ever get the sound out.

You can see each blade of grass shudder.

Another one comes, and you’re down again, knees scraping against the dirt and grass, stinging like hot wax hitting your skin.

You are forced to start crawling, as dehumanizing as it is, staying low to the ground so you won’t collapse completely when the ground shakes, only stutter.

All you can think about is the ground in front of you, getting away from the flames.

Neytiri stops, and you scream for her, turn back and see her staring up at the burning Hometree, at the pitch black smooth rolling off of it.

Then, the bombs stop.

That’s all it is for a moment, unspoken horror at what’s just happened, heartbeat deafening in your ears.

The leaves fall, so softly, fluttering. They sound like crunching bones. They sound like death.

You had mistaken Neytiri’s understanding for awe, disbelief.

She realized it before you.

And you knew already that Hometree would fall, but you never expected it to fall on you.

The sound of wood creaking fills the air, almost like it’s screaming, sobbing. It has been bombed and now it burns- how can you blame it for falling?

Neytiri stops, and you place your hand on her shoulder.

What are you supposed to do? Run and die? Stay and die? Where do you go? Everything fades into one, Neytiri’s braids swaying in the wind, hitting your face, and you can’t even be bothered to bat them away.

A woman’s scream rents the air, ear-piercing, and you’re shocked back to reality.

You think you scream, Neytiri grabs her hand, a million words traveling through your skin.

It falls slower than you expected. You almost thought it was come crashing down, but it makes sense. How would something that has stood so strong for so many years even know how to fall?

You didn’t know how to burn, not until they showed you.

And it seems Hometree has been taking lessons from the leaves, because it falls, the branches crashing behind you, closing you in, darkness consuming you.

It sounds like a god is stepping on you. It feels like your fire is burning out, your time is up, like you’re dying.

Then, you aren’t.

It all stops, Hometree bouncing a few times from the recoil, until there is no more vengeful god. No falling. Only the after. Only the destruction.

Neytiri stands slowly, staring at the fallen branches of the only home she has ever known.

You can hear the screams, the cries, and all you can do it sit motionless on the ground. The world has fallen before you, and you cannot even speak.

—-

“Father! Father!” Neytiri calls, and you pant as you trail behind her, smoke in your lungs, eyes to the ground. Debris and small patches of fire are everywhere- and Neytiri cannot protect you and look for her father.

Suddenly, the shouting stops. You look up in the odd silence, the only sound the crackling of fire, before Neytiri starts sobbing.

You startle and look up, side stepping a burning branch. “Neytiri-” but the words die in your throat.

Eytukan lays on his side, something sharp protruding from his chest. A piece of wood, you realize. How cruel is it that he should die from the home he protected so fiercely?

Neytiri turns him on his back, and you can barely stand the sound of her wails through your groans. You don’t know what to do. Do you comfort her? Let her be?

“Daughter…” Eytukan gasps, the Na’vi translating quick in your mind. He raises his arm, hands still wrapped tightly around his bow. “Take… my… bow…” he gasps, like living is killing him.

You cannot imagine how much pain he’s in, how much pain Neytiri is in. Slowly, you come closer, fall to your knees next to her. It’s jarring to see someone so proud and so tall, someone you have looked up to all your life, reduced to nothing by the humans and their pointless ruination.

“Protect The People,” he whispers, and Neytiri cries as she takes the bow from him. He speaks like living is killing him, like it is a chore to breathe, his heart to beat. It is no surprise that his hand falls limp to the ground, his chest falls flat.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasp, because what else are you supposed to do? You wrap your arms around her shoulders, and she falls against you, hands around her father’s bow. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

You breathe deeply, feel like the world is crashing in on you when she turns her head, presses her forehead to yours.

“They’re gonna take me,” you whisper, tears falling down your one face. You grieve for the forest, your mother, for Eytukan and for Hometree. “They’re gonna take me, Neytiri- I’m so sorry-”

“You can’t,” she breathes, her sobs stopping for a moment, her hand digging into your arm. “You can’t leave me,” she pleads, “not like this, my Y/N, you can’t leave me.” But both of you know that you have no choice.

You swallow, force back your tears. You want her to know this, know how you feel. “I don’t know what to do without you, I don’t- I love y-”

“Y/N! Neytiri!”

Even like this, you would recognize his voice anywhere.

You cannot bring yourself to look at him, and you aren’t even sure if Neytiri notices him, to busy in her grieving, in her whispered words for you to stay. You can do nothing but hold her tighter, give her this memory.

Jake’s footsteps crackle throughout the broken forest, and you still can’t look, too scared you’ll regret it all.

You can see him fall to his knees next to the two of you, and he hesitates for one moment, before placing a hand on the backs of your necks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorry,” but words will do nothing.

“Get away,” Neytiri sobs.

“I’m sorry-”

“Get away!” she shrieks, tearing herself from you, grabbing her father’s bow and pressing it to his chest. “Get away! Get away from here!”

And you feel it, ever so slowly, like a wave rising.

“Neytiri,” you mutter, and the last thing you hear is her gasp, and the last thing you feel is her hands on you.

You know that when you wake, you will never see her again.

—-

Neytiri knows she is strong, knows that she has survived much. She has hidden tears for years, pushed aside her emotions in favor for the clan.

Now, her father is dead, and it all comes pouring out. She thinks of her sister, Hometree, the utraya mokri. She thinks of the years alone, without her sister, without Y/N.

She thought she had her back, and then Jake was there, filling her life with his stupid human ways and his stupid face and all that is him.

She thought she had her Y/N back, and then Neytiri heard her name from her lips, and Neytiri’s hands come around her so quick, and she falls to her knees, holding Y/N like she’s everything precious in the world.

And with how much she has lost, she is now.

She gasps, and Jake fades from her mind, and now she is holding her best friend, her mate’s, limp body in her arms, next to her dead father.

She sobs, and she thinks that she will surely run out of tears today.

And then his hand touches Y/N’s head. He caresses it like he’s done before, and Neytiri had smiled when he did it before, but this is not then.

“I’ll protect her,” he breathes, “I’ll protect her.”

But she’s trusts Jake no longer, and his words mean nothing to him.

“I won’t let them hurt her, I promise-”

“Go away,” she sobs, wondering how many times she must repeat it. “Go away, go away,” and she is pleading. She cannot even stand to look at him anymore.

She imagines his ears tucking against his head, his tail dropping low. A part of her that still loves him, that will always love her mate breaks a little, but the stronger part of her is cruel.

Good, she thinks. This is what he deserves.

I still love him, another part of her sings, and she cries more, adds another loss to her list.

She cannot take anymore loss.

But she knows it is inevitable, but now, as Jake’s footsteps fade, as Y/N’s body grows cold, she promises that she won’t let them take from her like this again. She will fight tooth and nail for what is hers, even if all she has is herself and the girl she will always love.

She won’t let them take her, not anymore.

—-

taglist:

@eywas-heir @kitkat1690 @tiajk @reallysparklychaos @behindthearcane @neteyamforlife @aeslenya @ghoulbli @luvvsnae @personapersonally @bubble-blu @ameriesworld @itsyoboysparkel @ok-boke @arschbohrer @ambria @ssc7514 @w3ird11 @vane28282 @littlexscarletxwitch @erenjaegerwifee @myheartfollower @simp-erformarvelwomen @maevirago @n7cje @aerangi @minkyungseokie @disaster-in-waiting @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @hot15936 @noname2246 @fanboyluvr @ara-a-bird @fussel9913 @iwaslikeblah @hai-kbai @rosymccheese @itszzmoon @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lovekeeho

everything taglist:

@monsterwasstolen @fanboyluvr @artologia-blog1 @tulipatheticee @elvyshiarieko @fluffisalliwant @fluffi19 @jeizllz @myheartfollower @fy-fy-world @minkyungseokie @ivy-plays @blueberryfailureclinic @cryingwhilereading

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 29

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L Warnings: Language, angst, insecurities, blood, darkish thoughts (self-hatred), fighting, violence Author's Note: heavy chap. if you’re having a bad day, take a moment, be kind to yourself and put off reading this until you feel better 💜

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Playlist 】

Chapter 29: That Pet You Just Couldn't Keep

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Remus woke up to a bright, white light. He squinted, head lolling to the side of his lumpy pillow. The chair near his bedside was empty, saved from a pitcher of water along with a few potions Madam Pomfrey must’ve left for him, were placed on the stand beside his bed.

Something wasn’t right. Peter or one of the other Marauders were always there waiting for him after his transformations.

Too hot for a blanket in June, he ripped off his covers and noticed the bumpy, large material hiding beneath his nightgown. He licked his lips, letting air whistle down his dry throat while a sharp, burning sensation flooded his abdomen. Remus winched, groaning out while stretching to drink the potions and water. Although, as he brought the glass vials to his lips, he noticed that his arm was littered with scratches and bruises. Curious, he lifted the slit of the gown to see a large wrapping across his lower stomach and bruises in the shape of lopsided circles and rectangles travelling across his body.

Remus felt his face scrunch. Ever since the Marauders had become animaguses, he hardly sustained any injuries aside from the occasional limp or flimsy scratch. There was usually an absence of pain nowadays, not an overload of it.

What caught his attention was the scent of human blood. His senses were always heightened the week leading up to the full moon and the week following, so it was particularly strong. It caused his head to spin like planets performing a celestial dance.

Preoccupied with the scent, Remus didn’t notice someone slipping into the room.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” A fuzzy Peter came into view. He went to sit on the edge of his bed sporting a nervous look.

“Was wondering where you were.” Remus relaxed at his appearance.

“Yeah… Erm — been busy.”

Soon enough, another sharp pain stabbed at his abdomen again. “Fuck — what happened last night?”

Wormtail sucked in sharply as he wiggled in his seat uncomfortably. “I… something terrible happened. Bollocks, Moons — I’m sorry...”

Remus felt his spine prickle with needles. “What?”

“We should wait until Dumbledore or James comes back.”

“Dumbledore?!”

Ghostly pale, Peter was on the verge of fainting. Remus took another deep inhale. This time, he smelt blood, but it was coming off of Peter and a few other foreign scents lingered on him. Was that… Y/N? And… Snape? Remus scanned Peter, noticing the droplet of red on his shoes.

“Pete,” his voice dropped to an icy whisper, “Whose blood is that?”

He remained quiet.

Remus moved to prop himself up on the bed. “What happened?”

As Peter spoke, every word made Remus recline into himself and he was left unsure of how to feel. The overload of information put him into a state of complete shock. His vision faded in and out, suddenly feeling very cold and dizzy compared to the hot weather.

He distantly heard Peter trying to gain his attention but stared blankly at the metal bed frame.

“Say something,” his friend tried, sounding desperate. He didn’t even know how long he’d been quiet for.

Remus worked through the betrayal in nine steps. It helped make sense of his emotions. To categorize them — making it easier to file away.

1. Shock & denial

“No,” he said, barely moving a muscle in his face. “That's impossible! Padfoot would never…”

Peter watched him pitifully. Remus’ eyes blinked rapidly, heart pounding. “I’m sorry.”

2. Process what happened (or try to)

“He… told… Snape?” He asked despite Peter repeating the story multiple times.

“Sirius was mad at Sniv — Snape, and he was provoked by —”

“I didn’t hurt him, did I? I didn’t hurt anyone?”

“He’s fine.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what happened to me? Why was I bleeding?”

He refused to look him in the eyes and Remus felt terror ebb it's way through his skin. “Answer me!”

“As I said, L/N and Snape got into a row… she heard Sirius tell him and she went to save him…”

“Don’t you dare lie to me.”

Wormtail took a deep breath. “You… nicked her a bit and James’ antler broke off in you because… he was trying to get you off of her…”

Remus was rooted in place. What Peter just said was unreal. His stomach twisted painfully. He blinked. “Y/N’s hurt? I hurt her?”

“Yes — no! That was Snape —” “Is she here? Did I bite her?”

“You didn’t and yeah but —” “Move out of my way.” He pushed himself up wobbly.

“You lot a lot of blood, sit —”

“Get out of my way!” He threatened. Remus pushed Peter to the side, clambered to his feet. Remus gripped the bed tightly and felt a few seams rip open and blood began to faintly seep through his white bandages.

He staggered around, ripping back the curtains until he saw Y/N. Limping up to her bed, Remus almost burst into tears when he saw her. She looked so tiny, curled up and engulfed in blankets and pillows. Her ankle was propped up, head bandage and skin dull.

It felt like Peter had poured a bucket of freezing cold water on him.

He hurt her. Almost got her and Snape killed or infected. Could have hurt Prongs and Wormtail…

He was a fucking monster.

He should be put down.

From how loud he was, running around the wing, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. She attempted to stretch, groaning out in pain. But then, her eyes flickered up to him and she froze. Her hand shot up protectively to her chest and face as instinctively went for her wand but stopped. Genuine fear flashed through her, making Remus instantly want to cry. It felt like an eternity passed as she gripped her sheets and opened her mouth.

She was going to scream — to take him away — call him a monster — to cry or yell for Madam Pomfrey or —

But Y/N’s body relaxed. A tried smile twisted and gaze dissipated with fear, replaced with nothing but understanding and softness; she even went as far to touch his hand but Remus wrenched it back.

“Ta-da!” She croaked. “I lived.”

Remus didn’t smile, only staring horrified.

“Yeah, that was a hit or miss...” Peter interjected. He stood behind him, ensuring that if he fell, he’d be there to catch Remus. He continued to stare like she grew another set of eyes.

“What?” Her grin deflated. “Am I that irresistible?”

That pulled a breathy laugh from Remus as he shook his head. Why wasn’t she disgusted with him?

“Thank Merlin, you’re both awake.” All their heads turned to James’s floating head before he pulled off the invisibility cloak.

James moved to pull Remus into a large hug, whispering an ‘I’m sorry’ into his ear. He held him for a while before breaking off, going to embrace Y/N who wheezed.

“Ouch.”

“My bad, my bad!” He pulled back and slipped into bed with her. Peter forced Remus to sit on the edge of her bed while he stood.

A million thoughts ran through his head. He wanted to get away, to run — not even be in the same room as her. Remus wanted to think, to make any sense of what happened.

What the fuck happened? He couldn’t even process it.

She remembered everything, right? Surely she wouldn’t be this calm had she.

“Oh, wait — Lupin, are you alright? I swear a deer came at you last night.”

James chuckled out loud, breaking Remus out of his thoughts as he looked at him and Peter. “I guess there’s no point for secrets anymore.”

Y/N looked at them questioningly, her eyes squinting from the bright light before Peter went to close the blinds shut. James got off the bed, smiling widely at Remus and Peter got onto the bed instead.

“Ugh — Pete? James? What —”

A loud gasp ripped from her mouth as she jerked away from James who turned into a very large stag and Peter into a fat brown rat.

Remus could almost cry at how comical her face looked.

James was so large that he had to take a few steps back to prevent his antlers from poking one of their eyes out and Remus noticed that one was gone.

He felt sick again. A hand drifted to his stomach.

“Holy shit! Oh my god!” Y/N went to graze a finger on Peter’s fur before turning to James with shaky hands to touch one of his antlers and patting him on the head. She was speechless as her mouth open several times before forcing out, “You're really Bambi!”

James turned back, taking his glasses off to clean. “I wanted to be a lion — for Gryffindor, y’know.”

“You can’t choose, I wouldn’t be a rat.” Peter grimaced.

“They’re highly intelligent. Nothing to worry about.” James reassured and ruffled his hair.

“When did you guys learn to do this?”

“We’ve been at it for three years now. We finally were able to do it in August before school started.”

She shook her head, staring in awe.

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Dumbledore came to speak to everyone later that day.

Remus had been dreading it once he came into the wing and began speaking to Y/N, a buzzing sound filling his ear. All Remus was left to do was twiddle his thumbs, waiting and completely disoriented.

When he finally approached him, Dumbledore lost his usual twinkle in his eyes. He made sure to close the long vertical blinds and again, the room filled with a low buzzing sound.

“How are you doing?” He asked. Remus, had he been in the right mindset, would have prevented the scoff escaping him. Dumbledore didn’t react but continued. “Miss L/N is recovering well and Mr. Snape didn’t receive any injuries. Just a fright.”

Remus nodded, that was good, but he remained quiet.

“Snape’s been persuaded to act accordingly for the best interest of his fellow pupils and L/N gave her word.”

Remus choked back a laugh. Snape was going to, no matter what, let his secret slip somehow.

“You’re also exempt from the Transfiguration exams, both you and Miss L/N. You’ve both sustained a degree of varying head injuries and you’ll be graded on a cumulative from McGonagall.”

Dumbledore was forcing Remus to the edge as he bit down on his inner cheek. It was useless to listen to him. “Are you expelling me?”

“No. You should not bear any blame.”

“Dumbledore, no offence, but are you mental?” Remus sputtered adding, “I endangered four students last night.”

“Yes but —” “The next time we won’t be so lucky. I’m a monster, sir. I should be.”

The headmaster sighed. “Remus, give yourself a bit of credit. Think highly of yourself.”

Remus gave a dry laugh, almost baffled at how Dumbledore was acting. Did he just gloss over the fact he could have gotten students infected? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself had he. “How can I?”

“Well Y/N seemed to think very highly of you. She made you a very compelling case along with your friends, Potter, Pettigrew and Black.”

“Black’s not my friend,” Remus countered. He didn’t care about how rude he was being.

“Remus —”

“Is he expelled?”

“No.” The answer had Remus wheeling, anger spiking. “He’s not.”

“Why not? If it isn’t my fault, that I’m not to blame then why isn’t he? He told them how to find me.”

“I understand that this is a very difficult situation and rest assured, Sirius will be punished. I can promise you. But expulsion isn’t the answer.”

Remus refused to look at Dumbledore and he must've realized he was getting nowhere with him. He stood but before leaving, he gave a pitiful look.

“I have done terrible deeds, indulged in foolish pranks that I have lived to regret, but each has been a valuable learning experience. It’s a pity that it came to this. Learn in your heart to forgive, Remus. The world is already filled with too much hate.”

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June 16th, 1976

3. Sadness & pain

Remus had been avoiding the Marauder’s dorm. He’d gone as far as begging Madam Pomfrey (who’d taken pity because she knew what happened) to let him stay another two nights before getting kicked out. Remus always healed physically faster and his wounds were already healed by the third day. Pathetically, he’d been sleeping in dingy passageways or the prefects’ bathroom before relocating after being harassed by the ghosts.

Remus had a plan, avoid them; skip classes, get longer prefect duties, never staying in one spot for too long. He wouldn’t know what would happen if Snape saw him. Although, whatever Dumbledore told him, it kept Snape quite so far. But tonight, he got tired of Moaning Myrtle sobbing.

Before curfew, Remus made it a habit of visiting Y/N, who was still stuck in the wing; both out of guilt and because she was his friend, but he couldn't stay for long — seeing her like that made him wallow in guilt.

Similar to him, Lily had visited, along with the other girls, every day. Today, Lily stayed a little longer, bleeding into the time Remus usually dropped by. He watched as Lily whisper into her ear, causing Y/N to laugh and Lily blush madly as she sat snug by her side. Not wanting to ruin their moment, Remus went to leave before they had the chance to see him.

Remus had another pressing matter anyway.

He entered one of the nearest bathrooms to give himself some sort of pep talk and stared at the mirror.

You can do this. A voice echoed in his head.

Typically, memories from the full moon came back to Remus a few days or even weeks later, his brain usually too foggy a couple of hours after and even then, he would never fully remember everything. He vaguely remembered seeing a flash of Snape’s face and Prongs but Y/N’s screams were one of the clearer memories from that night.

“REMUS! PLEASE REMUS! STOP!”

Remus looked to stare at himself in the mirror. He observed the scar on the bridge of his nose, feeling bile rush up his throat at the sight.

He was a freak, littered with scars covering himself.

He was disgusting.

Ugly.

Pathetic.

Dangerous.

A monster!

4. Anger

Sirius Black had always been loyal, so what changed that night?

He needed to leave. It was no good staying here anymore.

Remus was shaking with rage, twinged with hurt. He paced outside of the common room door and had a few options running through him. Either start a huge fight with Sirius or just… ignore it.

Avoidance.

Maybe he could ignore Sirius forever? Impossible, surely. Sirius would get bored, anxious within a couple of weeks — that was too generous — a few days sounded right.

With his mind made up, Remus crept up to his room. He could hear the faint shouts of James and pondered about just sleeping in the common room or prefects’ bathroom. Even if he did have to listen to Moaning Myrtle.

Maybe because his senses were still coming down from its peak or James was just brash, but Remus didn’t even have to press his ear on the door.

“— done ENOUGH! — hear me? You better — why are YOU crying? You bloody — understand? Understand?! You will not talk — him — best friends my —”

The only person he's told he was coming back was Wormtail and it sounded like he told Prongs.

Remus didn’t care to listen anymore as he pushed open the door. Pete was sitting on his bed, eyes wide at Remus’ presence surrounded by unwrapped wrappers. He always tended to eat while stressed.

Sirius was looking down at the floor as James stood in front of him, scolding him like a child. But, his head shot up once he walked through the door. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see his eyes bloodshot, puffy and circles dark. He didn’t dare look at him.

Remus didn’t acknowledge them, instead moving robotically to the bathroom, changing into his holey yet comfortable clothes before scurrying off to bed, swinging his curtains shut before casting a silencing spell around.

He’d plan to adhere to his avoidance strategy. It worked so far.

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June 18th, 1976 | 1:29 am

“Psst… Moony.”

Remus turned over to face him. “What do you want Peter?”

“Just wanted to check up. You okay?”

“What do you think? Please, leave me alone.” And then closed his bed drapes.

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June 19th, 1976 | 11:37 pm

Peter had crept up to his bed again as Remus laid there awake, thoughts swarming him.

“I’m not in the mood. I’m tired.” He moved to turn over and forced his eyes closed.

Peter had been nothing but amazing. Always thinking about him and his needs but what Remus wanted most was to be alone and Peter's pity and worried features did nothing but make Remus feel like shit.

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June 21st, 1976

In life, there are few things that are certain. Getting older, death, taxes… No matter how hard we try, no matter how good our morals are or our intentions, we all will eventually make mistakes. It’s either as small as burning your food or writing the wrong answer down on a test, but you’re also going to fuck up pretty bad and hurt people. Say something — do something you don’t mean and it’ll end up with both sides hurt. If you want forgiveness, there’s multiple solutions to gain that back, but the two words — obvious, there, waving in front of your face — can be the hardest words to say.

“I’m sorry.” Black muttered for the hundredth time that night. His voice was pushing Remus to the edge as he kept his face straight. Dead. Not once taking Sirius’ shitty apology baits. He continued to stare down at his book, reading silently in his dorm. His teeth hurt from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Remus was right, of course, he was fucking right. Black had grown anxious as he ignored him.

“I’m sorry.”

Remus never really considered himself violent. Sure, he’s gotten into rows that ended with a punch or hex here or there, but Remus didn’t have violent thoughts. If anything, he prided himself on not being a bonehead like Black and Prongs. But, it took every ounce not to beat the shit out of Black right there and then.

Bastard. Scumbag. You mother fucking betrayer.

Remus never liked not being in control. Not having it scared him too much, feeling more animal than man. He did everything to avoid being violent, the wolf was already violent enough and had too much control and Remus refused to let it dictate human him. There was already too much violence, he never wanted to contribute more.

He did everything not to be a monster. But it's like the wolf roared from deep within, scratching and begging to let him pounce.

Remus wasn’t violent — anyone who met him would vouch for that. Fuck, if he saw a spider, he would open a nearby window and release it. But now, he wanted to slam Sirius against a wall and wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze.

You piece of shit. Wanker. Twat. I want you to feel as much pain as I do.

“Moony, please let me explain —”

All the words suddenly blurred before Remus slammed his book shut, causing to become still and quiet.

Sirius trying to explain — excuse his actions — pushed him over the edge. Remus sent a venomous glare at Sirius, waiting for him to talk. His quietness made everyone uneasy.

Selfish bastard.

Any sympathy Remus held for him this past year, along with any logic, evaporated to the point where he felt a rabid thump spread through him. There was a desperation to relieve himself of it — lash out, scream, cry —

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” the rest of the Marauders watched the scene, knowing not to get involved. “It was a mistake and —“

“A mistake?”

Sirius perked up at this. That was the only word he’d spoken to him since the incident. “Honest. I did it because —” “Shut the fuck up.” Remus stood, tall and loomed over Sirius. He could almost smell the fear off him.

He had never been so mad before.

“I — I… I,” stutters Remus. But instead of it being out of shyness or nerves, it was out of pure wrath that he wasn’t able to articulate his emotions properly. He took a deep breath in, attempting to regain control over his emotions but failed as he burned with deep, seething hatred. “I am the monster that mothers tell their children to keep them in at night.”

“Moony —”

“Don’t call me that!” His voice boomed so loud that everyone in the room had to take a step back and shrink down. Remus was always so reserved, only ever lashing out in annoyance close to the full moon but nothing more.

“Living up to your name, aren’t you?” There’s a sarcastic, bitter humour lilt to his voice.

Someone so in control of his emotions, someone with an unbreakable exterior, the only glimpses they’d ever seen of Remus losing control was him snapping at someone close to the full moon but would later apologize within mere seconds. But to see him like that… it was an intrusion, something the Marauders hadn’t ever seen or wanted to before.

“Please, just calm down so we can talk.”

Remus paces around the room. “You — y’know I’ve never understood why everyone lets you get around treating others like shit. First, it was Marlene, James, me, Peter, Lily and Y/N — we all let you get away with it. Outburst after outburst, we all sat back because you were going through shit. But I can’t? I’m not allowed to get angry?!”

Sirius wouldn’t look at him.

“Look at me.” Remus kept his voice low throughout the ordeal, only ever raising if Black interjected. “You coward, look at me!”

5. A lot of anger

He couldn’t meet his eyes so he settled to stare at the scar across his nose. It only angered him more as Remus picked Sirius up and pushed him against the wall as he fisted his shirt.

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry is nothing but a word to you. I gave you my most trusted secrets. I confided in you. I was there for you when you needed it. I loved and cared for you like my own brother but I was nothing more than a pet that you discarded when you got bored. You’re only guilty because of the repercussions you’re facing. Your guilt isn’t nearly enough. Bastard. I trusted you. You’re a Marauder. My best friend. I would’ve done anything for you. You fucking ruined it.

“You did this! You did!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He laughs, mocking and loud, void of any emotion. “No, you aren’t. You’re never fucking sorry!”

Stupid fucking selfish arsehole.

“For years you’ve told me that you accepted me — cared for me — loved me like your own brother! That what I am — a-a monster — that it didn’t matter!”

“It didn’t mean anything, I promise! It was a shitty, fucked up prank —”

“A prank?! You used me as a weapon! A toy because how could anyone ever love a werewolf?” Remus’ voice was so low. “You’ve never respected me. If you had any, you wouldn’t have — you - wouldn’t....”

Everything came crashing on Remus at once.

6. The realization settles in

And after nine days, Remus Lupin had finally realized what Sirius Black had done. Before, everything he felt had been true but he hadn’t fully realized the gravity of what happened, as silly as it sounds.

Sirius turned his worst fear into a living nightmare.

In the background, one of James’ Quidditch posters, encased in glass exploded, shattering into millions of pieces from the amount of pure magic radiating off Remus. He didn’t even flinch at the sound.

James finally interjected, placing a hand on Remus’ shoulder. “Lay off him… He isn’t worth it.”

Remus eased off Black instantly. “You had no right… no right…” He pointed. Remus turned his face down as he felt tears build up.

“I trusted you,” he whispers. “Every bit.”

Remus stormed out of the dorm, going to sleep in the common room.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

June 22nd, 1976

7. Depression

When Remus finally let himself cry, he didn’t make a move to leave his bed. Even skipping meal times, leaving James or Pete to bring him food.

Everything felt suffocating, a gnawing feeling that made every part of him ache. Remus couldn’t handle anymore pain or emotions from ‘the prank’ as he felt himself slip into a temporary void.

He hugged his pillow tighter and closed his eyes once more.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

June 23rd, 1976 | 11: 37 pm

Remus had gone straight to bed again, effectively shutting up the rest of the dorm. James was ignoring Black, leaving Remus surprised that he hadn’t made a move to defend his actions. Nonetheless, he was appreciative still. Peter had been trying to appease everyone, not taking sides but still must’ve thought Sirius was in the wrong because he hadn’t talked to him much.

He didn’t ask James to choose between him or Black. Remus was never one for ultimatums but even then, it seemed like James picked him. He was beyond furious, seemingly more than Remus at this point who pathetically wallowed in his depression. He wouldn’t spare Black a second glance, wouldn’t talk to him, shut him down if he tried to speak to him. Hell, he’d even gone as far as to make it very clear to the entirety of Hogwarts that they were no longer friends, making sure to not sit with him, ever. Always choosing to sit by Remus.

They chose his side and a part of Remus felt elated to know they had his back.

This left Black alone, looking at them through tearful gazes. Remus had been ignoring all of them and they seemed to be understanding, avoiding crossing the wordless boundary Remus set in stone.

But, both James and Peter had been checking up on him nightly, always there and he could tell they were getting impatient.

When the lights went out, he heard James crept out of bed. Usually, Remus would find some sort of comfort in knowing who was approaching him, but now, it only left him feeling uneasy.

And then he felt the bed dip and James muttered out a spell.

“Hey, Moony.”

Remus didn’t face him. “Prongs?”

“Hey,” there was a loud sigh, “Do you need anything?”

What was he supposed to say? A hug? To talk? He’d much rather use his avoidance strategy, although he realized it left him alone with too many thoughts and nobody to confide in.

“M’good.” He felt James place a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll always be there for you. That’s what Marau - that’s what friends are for, no?”

Remus didn’t answer and felt James move to leave. But before he had the chance to slip out, Remus peeked his head from the drapes, announcing just loud enough for Sirius to hear.

“Thanks for saving all of us, James. You’re a true friend.”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

June 24th, 1976

People had their poisons.

Alcohol can make you forget. It blocks out everything and makes the rest of the world fade away until you can’t remember. People gambled to feel a rush, only to realize they dug themself into irreversible debt. Shopping, food, the high from risky behaviour…

But how we manage our poisons is up to the person.

People love to deny that they have addictions. They deny they’re hooked, they deny that they can’t put it down, they deny that they’re scared or want to stop. People only see what they want to see, believe what they want to believe.

And then the truth becomes muddled with lies that it’s hard to recognize the poisons sitting right in front of us. And all we want is more.

For Remus, his poison, his bright red self-destruction button, was smoking.

Granted, he never was a big smoker, typically only smoking when stressed or bored. But he still did it, filling his lungs with poison. But maybe he was wired like that. Besides, what werewolf lives past thirty? Might as well die revelling in the poison that brought him ease…

Remus conjured a ball of bright fire from his hand; fishing out a pack of cigarettes, slipped it past his lips and lit it. He inhaled, feeling the familiar, comforting feeling before dragging it from his lips, blowing out the thick cloud of smoke that left him wanting more.

He’d been sticking to his avoidance tactic strictly now. The Marauders were hovering over him, worry evident on their faces. A few times, Lily and James both invited him to sit. They never fought anymore, or at least in front of him, and it probably was his doing — a group effort into getting him to talk.

So even Lily knew something was wrong… Snape probably told her…

The door clicked open and Remus didn’t have to turn around to know how it was.

“Leave me alone. I’m not ready to talk.”

“Wasn’t gonna make you.”

He spun around, that wasn’t James or Peter. His face softened.

“Well… I’m not,” Y/N said simply, “But the others are about to.”

Remus groaned at that but Y/N smiled and turned around, ushering him over with a little wave. In one hand, she raised the Marauder’s map. “C’mon, I know a place and that they won’t be able to find.”

Remus was intrigued. He stepped out the butt of the cigarette, flicked it into the trash and followed her. Surely he’d already been there but being with Y/N seemed ten folds better than being around the other Marauders.

He followed wordlessly, passageways flying through his head but she never stopped by them. Instead, she climbed onto a ledge, slipping into an area under a large curtain. He followed, eyes lighting up in awe. He’s definitely never been there before.

“Get comfortable,” she said, flinging him a pillow and lighting a few candles.

They sat opposed to each other in complete silence. Y/N flicked back and forth, watching James and Peter scrabble around the castle looking for him. A few times, they passed by, each time leaving Y/N amused.

Remus tapped his leg anxiously. The question remained: Why wasn’t she disgusted with him? Why was she helping him? Why wasn’t she afraid?

Now alone together, those questions dangled on his tongue.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

She looked up at him, finally putting down the map. “Because you’re Remus.” She said, like it was the most obvious answer. “You’re not scary.”

8. Hold onto doubt

The answer irritated him. Another memory unfolded then and he blurted it out. “Why didn’t you cast any spells at me?”

Her brows rose, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m dangerous.” His voice was bleak and cold. “Why can't you grasp that?”

She stays quiet for a long time, her head turning to look out the large window. Y/N watched the owls and labyrinth of ancient trees of the forbidden forest and Remus was painfully aware of time slipping by.

“Do you remember that night on the astronomy tower on Halloween? I said that there’s bound to be someone looking at the moon at the same time?”

It takes Remus a moment to remember, but he does. “Yeah. You said that it’s like you’re not alone.”

Y/N turns around to face him. “Exactly. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

He looked away, deliberating. “It’s one thing for me to be alone but then drag you and others down with me.”

“Remus, I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t scared. I was terrified. I thought that was it.” He gulped. “But I could never be scared of you. The real you - the you right now. I don’t care about what you are. You are more than just a werewolf. I feel safe with you.”

The dark shadows surrounded them as she reiterated herself. “You don’t have to be alone in this.”

He soaks in her words for a while. This time, peering out the window as he breathes in deeply.

Okay. He decided.

“Do you want to know how I got —” he pointed at a scar on his upper forearm. “— this?”

She nodded her head.

“When James turned into his animagus form to show me for the first time, his antlers pierced my skin. I had to lie to Pomfrey and say I fell while playing Quidditch.”

Any invisible barrier between them crashed instantly as she smiled brightly and laughed. So infectious, Remus couldn't help but flash a real grin.

He never realized how beautiful her smile was.

“Oh, and if you ever tell anyone about this place, I’ll skin you.”

“I would never.”

Remus scouted over to her, pressing his back against the cool stone as they sat together in a comfortable stillness. But then she shifted, opening her arms wide. He lent in without hesitation and her arms flung around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He felt salty tears stinging in the corners of his eyes and let himself soak in her warm.

He really needed that.

Over her shoulder, he returned to watch the stars.

9. Acceptance

Remus learned from a young age that it was better to keep people at an arm's length. Get too close, they’ll dig, find out his condition, fear him and run.

He hates to say it, but he’s not surprised that his secret slipped out. He got too comfortable, got too close... It’s just that the Sirius component was surprising.

But maybe it wasn’t surprising. Ever since the beginning of the year, especially since winter break, Sirius had been reckless more and more lately, and he probably should have seen it coming. He was wild as a result of being freed from the confines of his rigid upbringing.

Sirius Black was unpredictable.

Sirius Black was dangerous when it came to secrets.

Sirius Black was one of his best friends.

Sometimes betrayal is so profound that there’s no way to fix what was lost. The damage is done, irreplaceable, unfixable.

If Remus was sure of anything by the end of that week was that,

a) James Potter and Peter Pettigrew were still his best friends,

b) He almost killed Severus Snape and Y/N L/N,

c) Y/N knew his secret and despite everything, continued to talk to him, support him, be there for him — she accepted him,

d) His walls went up a higher, became stronger and insecurities ran deeper,

e) Lastly, Remus Lupin would never, ever forgive Sirius Black for what he did. Never.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

[wendimydarling]

Please Don’t Leave Me

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Summary: Talking about our past is not easy. What happens when it’s finally time to share what you’ve been through with Henry?

Pairing: Henry x First Person Reader

Word Count: 1635

Warnings: Angst; mention of being yelled at, personal hurt, self-harm, attempted suicide, emotional neglect, parental abuse, beginning stages of a panic attack, anxiety, depression, loneliness, and fear of abandonment. (If there’s anything I missed, just let me know and I’ll add it).

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY FREYA! I know it’s next week, but I’ll be off Tumblr because it falls on Thanksgiving this year. You asked me for this fic and I wanted to do right by you, as you’ve done so much for me. I love you, bish! 

It had been a rough day. And not just your typical rough, I’m talking the kind of rough where you spill your coffee all over your blouse in the car, end up being late for work, forget your lunch, and get yelled at by the boss kind of rough. The kind of rough where every traumatizing past event in your life comes bubbling to the surface. The kind of rough where you want nothing more than to crawl back into your bed and sleep for seven years, and it’s only nine-thirty in the morning.

The one saving grace I held on to as I counted down the minutes of my shift was that Henry would be home tonight, waiting for me. God, I don’t know how I got so lucky, but somehow that kind and gentle soul had seen through the cracked and broken wall that I kept as my only defense mechanism, and had chosen me anyway. He knew some of my past and pain, but I hadn’t opened up about everything; I wasn’t ready to lose him, and I knew he’d be out the door once he heard it all. Just like everyone else. Perhaps that was selfish of me, but for once in my life, I knew what it felt like to be loved, and I was soaking in every ounce I could of that sweet nectar before it was gone.

Finally, finally, my work day was over. I headed to his place as fast as I safely could, anxious and burdened with unwelcome memories. The delicious smell of roast flooded my nostrils as I opened the door and Kal came bounding over. I noticed as I toed off my pumps and tamed the wild beast that Henry had built a fire, and gratitude filled my heart. He always seemed to know exactly what I needed, sometimes even before I did. I headed toward the kitchen, following my nose.

“Hey love,” Henry smiled wide, already pouring me a glass of red. He swallowed me in a warm embrace, his chin planted on the top of my head, and my body tucked firmly in his arms. I melted, sinking into the security of his hug and letting the stress of the previous hours wash away. I was here, he was home, and I was safe.

We ate quietly, talking here and there about random facts or tidbits. I pushed the food around on my plate, taking a bite here and there to satisfy Henry but I could sense him watching me carefully; his concern was evident, but he covered it well, masking it with simple questions or well-timed caresses. Even so, his next question caught me off guard, my fork halfway to my mouth.

“Will you tell me about it?”

The silverware clattered to the plate, forgotten in my fear. This is it, I thought, tonight’s the night I lose him forever. My chest constricted and I could feel the panic slowly rising, tears welling and threatening to spill. Henry quickly grabbed my hand and shushed me, cupping my face in nurturing kindness. 

“You don’t have to,” he comforted, and I closed my eyes, exhaling the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Henry soothed his thumb over my cheek before pulling me onto his lap, cradling my head in his large hands. I burrowed deep into his chest, letting his scent wash over me in calming waves.

“I just want to help,” I heard Henry whisper. I sighed; he was right, it was time for him to know. I looked up at him, staring at that beautiful face that held so much promise. A face that said so much in just a look, with eyes that sparkled like the heavens whenever they landed on me. Once again, I wondered why his eyes looked like that when it was me they were viewing, but I shoved it aside. Self-deprecation would not help, not right now. Nodding softly, I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t tell him, not out loud. I dropped my head in defeat.

Henry shifted me off his lap, grabbing my hand and walking us to his desk. He sat in his gaming chair and patted his thigh, tugging on my arm. I hesitated, confused.

“Come here, love,” he encouraged, guiding me to sit. With both of us facing the computer, he opened a word document and offered me the keyboard.

“If you’re unable to say it out loud,” Henry crooned in my ear, kissing softly under my lobe, “Then write it. I’ll read it as you type, and neither of us has to say anything.”

This man. I swear to god. Relief flooded through me, though anxiety pounced instantly as I was reminded that once we were done, he would be gone. No one else had stayed, my problems were much too great... Why should he be the one to bear the burden of me? I took a deep breath anyway and eyed the screen, my fingertips trembling over the instrument of my demise.

Where should I even begin? Should I go all the way back to the beginning, to my birth? How I was nothing but a mistake, and every day I was reminded as such? Or maybe I should tell him what the scars are from? Perhaps I should simply tell him about failed relationship after failed relationship, both romantic and non. Those are all fun tales, I had no doubt he’d love to hear all about them. Maybe he wanted to know the amount of times I’ve come close to admitting defeat and ending everything. Spoiler alert… that number’s higher than it should be. 

I swallowed thickly and began typing, slow and hesitant words forming on the page. Every thought was carefully constructed, worked over in my mind at least five times before I allowed it to leave my fingers. Henry’s comforting arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, his chin nestled on my shoulder as he read what I shared. Tears slowly brimmed in my eyes, kept at bay only by sheer force of will. Each stroke of a key sounded like a hammer hitting the nails in our relationship’s inevitable coffin; surely he wouldn’t, couldn’t love me after this. No one could. It’s simply too much for anyone to bear, too awful… too hard.

And yet in my ear were the sounds of something different. Encouraging grunts, empathetic hums. Henry kept his promise, he never said a word except for one small sigh of “oh, love” as I hit a particularly difficult moment. His hands rubbed my sides, kisses left tiny wet imprints on my cheek, and every now and then he would squeeze tighter, small reassurances to keep going. 

The words started pouring out of me. I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried; Every struggle, every loss, every tiring moment; every single thing that had ever happened to me found its way into that document in a flurry of clacking plastic. My hands moved of their own free will and the tears started to flow; long, silent trails of pain releasing years worth of pent up anger and hurt. The salty drops fell onto Henry’s forearms but he just left them there, rooted to his task of protecting me. I would miss how safe I felt in the protection of his arms. 

The final sentence fell out of my hands, and I immediately turned and buried my face into Henry’s shoulder, bitter sobs wracking my frame as I clung to his neck. 

“Please don’t leave me,” I begged, ashamed of myself for being so needy and undesirable. I expected him to untangle himself from my arms, to get up and open the door to excuse me from his home. To force me to leave his life and never return.

The last thing I expected was for him to burst out laughing. 

I snapped my head up and stared at him in horror, which only made him laugh harder.

“I’m so sorry,” he wheezed, “I really shouldn’t be laughing. It’s just… I know why you think I would leave you, it’s all right there on the computer, but you have nothing to worry about.”

Henry wiped his eyes and mine and cupped my face, still chuckling. 

“You think so little of yourself that you can’t see just how worthy you are,” he murmured, adoration and mirth mingling in his eyes as he tucked my hair behind my ear. I furrowed my brow and pressed my face into his palm, relishing the cooling sensation of calm that his skin brought. 

“I know what it’s like to feel how you do,” Henry went on softly, “To feel unwanted and undeserving. But I’m not going to walk away from a flower as strong, as rare, and as beautiful as you just because she’s got a few bruises. I love you just the way you are.”

His admonition shocked the both of us. He loves me? I tried to process what he’d just said, but my mind was raw and I couldn’t think straight. He loves me.

“Yes, I love you,” Henry repeated as though he could read my thoughts, clasping my jaw and looking me straight in the eye. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere… I’m not going to leave you.”

I smiled widely as tears spilt over once more, happiness bursting from my heart. With anyone else I’d be doubtful, I’d have hightailed it on my own after a proclamation like that before the other shoe dropped... before they could hurt me worse. But this wasn’t anyone else, this was Henry. And being with him made me brave, which is why I found words leaving my lips that I never thought I’d ever say again.

“I love you, too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 15

Catch up on Chapter 14 here

You’re kicking yourself for taking these last months for granted, for thinking that that was what it meant to miss a busy Van. Pining and pouting over a Van that you basically saw once a week? That wasn’t so exhausted from back-to-back shows that he made time to call, or at least respond to your texts? Who spent enough time in one place that you could actually go visit him on tour?

or

You’re missing your best friend like crazy.

Word count: ~3.3k

A/N: I can’t believe there’s only two chapters left after this! Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who’s taken the time to read this, and endless thank you’s to everyone who has reached out with feedback ❤️

Chapter Fifteen September 2019

Fall in California doesn’t look the same as it does in Michigan, but you wish it did. Although you’re glad winters here only involve mild weeks in the fifties and sixties, you do miss the atmosphere of gray, rainy September days, leaves shriveling up and falling off of the trees, and changing out your wardrobe into something cozier. Sure, the pumpkin spice trend is still active, but pumpkin spice lattes don’t taste the same with eighty degree temperatures and the shining sun.

Maybe you’re homesick because you’re desperate for your surroundings to match your insides. 

Van wasn’t kidding about the band’s workload this month. You’re kicking yourself for taking these last months for granted, for thinking that that was what it meant to miss a busy Van. Pining and pouting over a Van that you basically saw once a week? That wasn’t so exhausted from back-to-back shows that he made time to call, or at least respond to your texts? Who spent enough time in one place that you could actually go visit him on tour?

You had been so naive. So, so, fucking naive. And September was absolute torture to prove it. And it would feel much, much better to slog through this month on rainy sidewalks crusted with damp leaves, a crisp breeze trying to sneak through the seams of your coat.

But instead the world just spins on, leaving you behind. September is a new beginning for many people, who gladly chatter about it everywhere they go. UCLA students are starting to return to the area, bouncing around in their backpacks with iced coffees, and at work your co-workers are returning from their eventful summers refreshed and ready to end the year with a bang. There are back-to-school sales on everything, from spin classes to puppies in a petstore window, and the happier everyone is about the new season the more alone you feel.

Because that’s a great way to sum up how you feel, really: alone. It was the fucking worst. You’d never been someone who had a problem being alone! You’d purposely decided to live alone; you had practically skipped for joy down the sidewalks when you’d broken up with your last boyfriend. You had a nice friend group with the other girls at work, and of course you had Mary, so what else could an independent woman like you need? Certainly not a boyfriend or a girlfriend to make you feel fulfilled. Things wouldn’t even be different if Van was your boyfriend, you try to convince yourself. He’d still be busy. You’d still be rooted in L.A.. You’d still be just as depressed as you are right now.

You don’t believe that one bit.

\\

Got that reservation, Van texts you one night after a rare phone call. You’d asked him to try and get Mary and Theo a table for their anniversary, and apparently he’d pulled through. You beam to yourself as he sends another text with the reservation information, and then decide to give Mary a call.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Is Mary’s greeting. “Has Van kidnapped you?”

You don’t have the heart to tell her it’s the opposite, actually. You’re so trapped in your lonely self-pity you don’t really have the energy or desire to socialize with others right now. In your heart right now, it’s Van or bust.

“Maybe,” You joke, although you feel like you don’t sound very convincing. “Speaking of Van, he might happen to have a reservation next week that he can’t make…” You grin as your voice trails off, “And maybe he accidentally made the reservation under your name?”

Mary audibly gasps down the line. “He got us a table?” She squeals, but you can hear she’s trying to hold back her excitement until she knows for sure.

“I might have called in a favor from him,” You laugh as you listen to Mary’s excitement at your confirmation.

“He is an absolute angel,” She gushes. “You need to marry him, like, now.”

You’re sure that this time your laugh definitely sounds hollow. You’ve never admitted your love for Van, even though Mary questions you about it regularly and never seems convinced with your denials. While you usually tell her everything, your feelings for Van have always felt like a giant bruise, something best not exposed. You don’t think you could stand the teasing, or Mary’s typical meddling. And right now, considering your heart is one oozing wound, you’re thankful for your own secret-keeping.

“I just wanted to let you know,” You start to wind down the conversation. Your phone has pinged with another text from Van, and you don’t want to waste this opportunity to catch up with him. “I’ll screenshot the reservation stuff and text you.”

“Tell Van I said thank you! We said thank you. Like, seriously. He’s amazing.”

You two say goodbye and you relay the message to Van over text, before responding to the message he’d just sent. Sam Fender’s album was out tomorrow, and there would be a huge bash at his Hollywood house the following weekend, which the band wouldn’t be in the States to attend. Van was clearly bummed about the whole thing, and you were too. You wonder if Sam and his friends remembered you from the party, or if you’ve faded from everyone’s memory. You wish there was a way for you to reach out to him and congratulate him. 

Get your cheque yet? Van asks when the conversation about Sam has run its course.

Right. The insurance check. Yup, you respond, frowning to yourself in dismay. A whole $5,000. Yippee. 

You couldn’t believe that’s all you’d received from the insurance debacle. You’d purchased the car for $12,000 from a dealer, worked your ass to pay it off over the years, and now the insurance company had awarded you less than half of the cost of the car to somehow give you the means to buy a new one. And it’d be almost impossible to find something in good shape for that price that was also an automatic, because you grew up in Michigan, where people were not obsessed with driving stick shifts.

Least you’ve got the rover. 

Right. The Range Rover. The one scrap of Van you could cling to during this awful time.

\\

The next time you have to pass that stupid petshop with their stupidly cute puppies in the window on your walk back to the office after lunch, you decide to send a pic to Van: Yes or no to me getting a puppy.

Which one?

Holy fuck, he responded in less than twelve hours. It’s your lucky day.

I’m thinking that little fuzzy gray one.

I’d be supremely jealous. He’s cute and I love dogs.

Van is a terrible influence. You’re ashamed to admit you stall in front of the window for longer than necessary, looking at the little gray puppy with the pointed ears bounce around in the playpen before forcing yourself to move along. A puppy would probably be good for you, honestly, but that’s not a decision you should make on impulse.

Miss you, says another text from Van. Then another: Might be in town on Tuesday? Fingers crossed the flights work out. 

Unfortunately, they do not.

\\

The flights do, however, work out for Thursday. That’s a fact you only discover after coming home from work and heading into your bedroom to change, only to trip over two rolling suitcases and realize there’s a Van-sized lump sleeping in your bed.

“What’re you doing?” Van mumbles, peeking his head out from under the blankets as you swear up a storm.

“What are you doing?” You shout, your toes throbbing. You’d accidentally kicked one of his rolling suitcases across the bedroom hardwood, and your toes were aching from the impact. On its way across the bedroom that suitcase had bumped the other, causing it to fall like a domino. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

A slow grin spreads over Van’s face. “I wanted to surprise you!”

“By making my room an obstacle course?” You huff, lifting the fallen suitcase upright and rolling both of them out of the way into a corner. 

Van’s sleepy state inhibits him from arguing, and he tucks his head back under the comforter.

“God, you scared the shit out of me,” You continue, your adrenaline still pumping from the fright and the pain. “I regret making you a key. I want it back.”

“Shut up,” Comes Van’s muffled voice.

“You shut up,” You bite back, but as the throbbing in your toes die down your irritation is replaced with the realization that this is reality, that Van is actually in your fucking bed at this moment. “I missed you,” You announce suddenly, your voice a lot softer.

Van peeks his head out again. His hair is a ruffled, oily mess as he beams at you. “I missed you more.”

“Bet you didn’t. Bet you forgot about me while you were doing cool band stuff.”

“Oh, did I? Wonder who I was texting Sam about, then.”

At this your jaw drops. “You did what?”

“I told him I was sorry I was leaving town tomorrow, and you said congratulations. And he asked how you were. Bond and him wanna do a celebratory pub night down in Newcastle.”

“No fair!” You pout, stomping your foot like a child. “You’re gonna celebrate without me?”

“Get your passport!” Van cries, throwing one of his arms up in exasperation before flopping back down on the bed. “Come with us!”

Getting your passport is a pain you’re reluctant to go through. You sigh. Maybe you’d try during the holidays back in Michigan, where the lines at the post office weren’t practically out the door everyday. Even if things with Van are over by then, Mary’s been trying to talk you into an overseas vacation for a while. 

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” You decide to narrow in on that fact, pushing passport thoughts aside.

“Tomorrow night,” Van confirms. “Drop me off after work?”

“Of course.” If you only had him for these twenty-four hours, you were gonna milk every second you had.

\\

Van is completely wiped from touring, and spends his entire time at your place in the same sweats. He gets out of bed the next morning to shower and have a cup of coffee with you, but other than that he’s glued to the mattress, getting some much-needed rest. 

But even when he’s tired, Van is fun to be around. When you’re exhausted from work it means that your job has sapped every last bit of joy from you, leaving you without any desire to be creative, go out with friends, or try to be in a good mood. With Van, it’s like he would keep going if his body allowed him. He talks about tour fondly, still expresses excitement about starting on the new album, and still manages to pluck at your guitar from his nesting spot in bed. He’s the same Van; the only difference is the constant yawning and the way the lines around his eyes are more defined. Oh, and the lack of energy for any fooling around.

That last part doesn’t even cross your mind until you’re on your way home from the airport. You were so content just to have him around that you totally forgot how much you’d been using your vibrator lately. 

But even with how content you were for that blissful twenty-four hours, as soon as you’ve stepped in the door to your empty house the aching in your heart returns. In your time apart all the little details about Van had gone fuzzy in your mind; his scent on your pillow, how it takes a cup of coffee in the morning for his voice to stop cracking. But remembering them makes everything sting with a vengeance, and you’re left feeling shittier than you have all month. 

There’s been a nagging feeling creeping around the edges of your brain like a fog, and as much as you’ve been trying to deny it, it’s hard tonight. It’s just that everything with Van has started to hurt, and you’re not sure it’s ever going to go away. His schedule over the summer was flexible, but even after this intense bout of touring he’d be busy with recording. And then the band would be vigorously promoting and touring that album, and so on, forever, because Van would never stop making music, you were sure of that. 

The tears well up in your eyes even thinking about not having him around. Despite your crushing adoration for him, he really is your best friend, and the idea of losing his friendship makes your heart clench in agony, the tears spilling over. But it’s not really a fair friendship when only one of you is crying about it, is it? Van doesn’t have to hurt like this, because his heart isn’t invested in you like yours is in him. 

You allow yourself an indulgent self-pity cry as you make your bed, rumpled from Van’s napping, and climb in. You figure if you’re going to have a pity party for yourself you might as well do it right, and switch your pillow out for his so you can smell the smoke he leaves everywhere he goes. You know that as happy as you are when he’s around, there’s no way you can keep crying over someone when leaving is as much of their job as sending emails is to yours. 

\\

That’s why when Van pops in for another impromptu visit the following Tuesday, you’re not as happy to see him as you usually would be. It’s the same way that the idea of next morning’s hangover can ruin a night out, except with Van there’s no magical way to handicap your brain from thinking about the future.

The sex comes close, though. As soon as you two get to your place after picking him up he tosses his backpack aside before cornering you against the front door. 

“I fucking missed you,” He practically growls in your ear, and holy fuck it’s been so long. You two rush for the bedroom, peeling off clothes as you go. Van is too impatient to worry about unbuttoning his shirt and simply peels it over his head, while you unclasp your own bra to avoid the delay. Before you know it you’re on your back, the blankets falling away from Van’s shoulders as he thrusts into you with all he’s got, your headboard banging against the wall so loudly you almost worry about damaging it. When you come it’s intensely satisfying, and you pull Van’s hair ridiculously hard to prove it. In retaliation he bites down on your shoulder as he comes, the same as he did the first time you ever slept with him. 

The whole world feels right for that magical half hour, and then as you both lay on your backs trying to process what’s happened it all starts to shift again.

“When are you leaving, again?” You ask the ceiling, your voice stiff.

“Thursday morning,” He croaks. “Gotta get to Salt Lake City.” 

You start to roll yourself up, heading for the bathroom. “Right.”

You feel Van’s body tense under the sheets next to you. “You alright?”

“Yup,” You tell him, emerging from the bed. You’re not convincing in the slightest, and Van can clearly tell. You don’t give him time to question you before leaving the bedroom.

“What’d I do?” You startle when you hear Van’s footsteps following behind you to the bathroom. 

“Nothing.” You almost laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

Van hasn’t even bothered to throw boxers on, leaning in the bathroom doorway with his softening dick on display. He sighs. “Wanna step out for a smoke?”

You’re actually craving the fuck out of a cigarette, but you’d rather just go to bed and have this night be over with. Maybe tomorrow you’d be more able to enjoy Van’s presence, rather than pouting over how it’s rapidly coming to an end as soon as it began. “I’m fine,” You tell him. Your voice sounds less sharp and more resigned. It wasn’t his fault, after all.

Van shakes his head. He uses the toilet when you’re done, tosses on the sweatpants he had rolled in his backpack, and heads out onto the porch alone.

In his absence you scold yourself for acting like this. What the fuck were you doing? Ruining the two nights you had him, because of something that wasn’t anybody’s fault? You remake the bed, mentally giving yourself a stern talking to.

“You wanna talk about what’s wrong now?” Van’s voice makes you jump out of your skin.

“Nothing��s wrong,” You insist again, but your voice betrays you. 

“Something is,” Van argues. “I’ve been watching you fluff that pillow for ages.”

At his words you realize your hands are still gripping the corner of your pillowcase, and you unclench your fists. 

Van steps into the room, and to your mortification you feel your eyes heat up with warm tears. 

“It’s been a long day,” You lie. It’s been a long fucking summer. “And I’m PMSing.”

Van frowns in sympathy, starting to climb back into bed. “Need a cuddle?”

A cuddle sounds like the equivalent of doing an entire round of shots by yourself when you’re already dreading the hangover. 

“Yeah,” You sniff. “I do.”

\\

On Thursday morning Van gets you up even earlier than your alarm clock, one of his hands nudging your thighs apart. You expect him to get on top of you once you’re more fully awake, yawning and wiggling around to get more comfortable, but instead you feel his calloused fingertip press against your entrance.

“Oh,” You sigh in surprise as he slips into you, searching out your good spots by touch alone. When he slips a second finger in, angling himself right, you clench down on instinct. “Yeah,” You breathe, blinking up at him sleepily. He’s watching your face intently, and if you were even slightly more awake you’d be horrifically self conscious. “You got it right.”

You can’t remember the last time you were fingered as the entree of the sex, rather than the appetizer. It’s appallingly intimate to have Van’s face so close to yours, breathing in any noises you make and watching every slight expression change in the darkness of your room. You’re also appalled at how you’ve been completely robbed of his talents; he can sense exactly where you’re throbbing for him, your clit twitching against the pad of his thumb when he applies pressure right where your body has been screaming for it. It barely takes any time with his thumb working in tiny circles and his fingers pressing into you hard before you’re gasping for air, drowning under the waves of your orgasm that feels like it’s radiating from both areas, whimpering Van’s name helplessly. 

As soon as you’re flinching from his touch he pulls his hand away, his fingers slipping into his mouth so he can clean them off. 

“Holy shit.” Your lungs are still desperate for air, but you haul him in for a sloppy kiss, paying no attention to the taste of yourself on his tongue. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Van lets out a deep, throaty laugh at that, but you’re already pushing him backwards so that he’s laying flat. You’re way too sensitive for sex, but you jerk him off and let him come on the soft skin on the inside of your thighs, as a treat. 

After you drop him off at the airport, both of you looking slightly disheveled due to having to rush to get ready, you sigh to yourself in the empty car. You hated how weak you were when it came to him. One minute you’re convincing yourself you need to stop hanging around him, and the next you’re telling yourself there is absolutely no way you can give up the best sex you’ve ever had.

It was quite the conundrum.

\\

[panda-noosh]

im really bad with specifics anything you write about draco is great 🥺 so maybe something sweet with draco and reader?

god, draco is awful at this.

   how do people just do this so easily? honestly, anniversaries are so pointless, so stressful, and he doesn’t understand why they are a thing.

   but you seem to be into them, so he’s making the effort.

   he knows - this is very out of character for him. the day draco malfoy does something for someone else is surely meant to be the day the world ends, and yet here he is, standing in another random gift shop in hogsmeade, trying to decide what stationary set you would absolutely lose your mind over.

    and it’s not like he doesn’t know; in fact, there are some days where draco thinks he knows you better than he knows himself. you would definitely appreciate the notebook with the little corgis on it. you would definitely give him a kiss for that one.

    but what if he’s wrong?

   that’s what’s got him so confused; for months, he’s been set and certain on what he’s going to get you, because he knows what you like. but now that he’s actually got to come out and find what he’s looking for, he’s wondering whether he’s been right at all. does he know you like he thinks he does? what if he hands you the gift and you start crying because jesus, draco, i thought you knew me.

    he doesn’t want that to happen.

    he scowls, poking the corgi notebook as if that will somehow reveal the answers he so desperately needs right now. around him, fellow Hogwarts students bustle back and forth, picking up little gifts for themselves, because they can do that when they aren’t madly in love with someone. they can do that when they haven’t got a stupid anniversary coming up.

    “can i help you, my boy?”

   draco looks up. standing over him is Dakota Shrap, the owner of the quaint little shop he’s found himself in.  

    “yes,” he says. “i’m looking for an anniversary gift.”

    dakota’s eyes sparkle. “oh, young love, is it?”

   “i guess.” yes. very much so.

   “well, let me have a look here.” dakota trudges forward and flicks his wrist; all the goodies on the shelves move of their own accord, like a gear shifting. after a few moments of draco awkwardly standing with his hands tucked in his pockets, the shelves go still yet again, revealing a picture frame stood entirely on it’s own.

   draco raises a brow. “what good is that gonna do?”

    dakota plucks the frame from the shelf and shoves it into draco’s hand. “the magic doesn’t lie, my boy; if it says this is the perfect gift, then it’s the perfect gift. i’ll leave it to you to figure out why.”

    draco blinks. “right. okay. how much?”

   and so, draco pays the bill and heads back to hogwarts on his own; he left crabbe and goyle to their own devices. they would be nothing but an annoying distraction, and he can’t really afford to be distracted when he’s trying to get you a gift.

    he heads straight to his dorm in the slytherin common room and sits down on his bed, pulling he curtains round him. he stares down at the picture frame; he has a few pictures with you, mostly taken against his will. his mother wanting to capture the moment, or you playfully snapping a picture of you and him laying beside one another - draco never saw the logic in those, considering they were basically just evidence that you had sneaked out of your dorm to come join him. nonetheless, he glances over to his bedside table where multiple of those pictures are hung upon his wall; he likes them, he’ll admit. he may not seem like the type, but he loves a sentimental piece. he loves the memories with you.

    he reaches over and plucks one off the string. the picture moves. on loop, the flash erupts onto the page, revealing your beautiful, grinning face and draco’s exhausted wince. picture draco raises a hand, slapping it into the camera’s lens, and draco can remember himself grumbling, “get that camera away” before you burst out into laughter and nuzzled into his chest, having captured grumpy draco yet again.

    he likes this picture a lot, purely because every time he looks at it, he remembers your laugh. it was so loud that night, nearly getting the two of you caught, and yet neither of you made any attempt to move. you just nuzzled beneath the quilt, playfully telling draco to be quiet before the two of you fell asleep.

    yes, draco thinks. i’ll take this one.

   ----

    “an entire year.”

   you grin, skipping up to draco’s side as soon as you spot him from across the yard. you seem to be in fine spirits, and despite draco not having quite the same burst of energy as you, he must admit that he hasn’t been in such a good mood in a long, long time.

   “an entire year it is, mr malfoy,” you reply, grabbing his arm and doing a spin that makes draco roll his eyes. “to think i’ve put up with you for three hundred and sixty five days - mental.”

   “oh, hush. take this.” draco shoves the badly wrapped package into your hands. you stumble back in faux shock, staring down like it might bite you if you take your eyes off it for too long. “open it.”

    “you’re so bossy,” you whinge, but the excitement is evident in the glisten of your eyes as you drop your bag to the ground and start ripping into the wrapping paper.

   this is the part where draco gets nervous.

    there’s every possibility you won’t like it. maybe he should have just gotten you the god damn corgi notebook - you’d have more use out of that, and you love stationary, so why did he go against all his instincts and listen to some crazy old man who doesn’t even know who you are?

    these thoughts paralyse him; he wants to reach out and snatch the gift away, say “never mind!” and replace it with something else, but instead he stays rooted to the spot in front of you, hands tucked in his pockets, watching with baited breath as you drop the wrapping paper to the ground (you pick it up before you leave. don’t litter!) and stare at the picture frame once hidden beneath it.

    draco inhales sharply. your silence has lasted too long. you hate it. he’s messed up.

    “draco...,” you mumble.

   he panics. his hand snaps out and wraps around the top of it, yanking the frame from your fingers. you gasp, and before draco can flee the scene, you’ve grabbed his arm and dragged him back, snatching the frame back into your own grip.

   “what are you doing?” you hiss. “this is mine!”

    “look, it’s not much, i know, but-”

   “i love it.”

   draco freezes. “what?”

   “i love it, draco.” you look up, and it’s only then does draco notice the tears glistening at the corners of your eyes. “i didn’t realise you’d kept that picture. i thought you threw them all away.”

   draco scrunches up his nose, pulling away like you’ve just slapped him. “are you mental? why would i do that?”

   “because you’re. . . i don’t know! i just didn’t know you were into that stuff!”

   draco rolls his eyes. “i’m not, but you’re a special case.” he looks to the floor and mutters, “you’ve always been my special case.”

    you hear him. that much is obvious in the hitch of your breath, and draco curses himself for not taking more care with his words. nonetheless, he’s pleasantly surprised when you step towards him and cup his jaw, forcing him to look into your eyes. you don’t need to force him, though, because he swears he would get lost in those eyes of yours for the rest of eternity if he had the choice. he would abandon the real world and everything in it if meant he could stand here and look at you for the rest of his life.

    you smile. it makes his chest hurt. 

    “i love you, draco malfoy,” you whisper.

   draco doesn’t hear those words very often - in fact, he hears them from nobody but you. he never knows how to properly respond, because saying i love you too never feels like enough. like he’s taking the easy way out despite being completely willing to run across rivers, to snap the world in half if you asked.

   he reaches up and curls his slender fingers around your wrist, gently tugging your hand down to meet his lips. he presses a kiss there and says, despite wanting something else, something stronger, “i love you, too, y/n l/n.”

[feel199x]

in love with a ghost; ch. 01- somethings in between

soul eater!au, ghost!au, witch!au, apocalypse!au, gods of olympus!au (YEAH I SAID IT. ALL OF THEM)

MASTERLIST

summary: jisung’s a ghost- well, sort of. it’s not your fault. shenanigans are going on to get back to live!

warning: uhh none except lots of swearing ‘cause reader’s FEISTY!

 You remember the night it happened. 

 And there is nothing, absolutely nothing in this world that you want to remember less. But you can’t. You sit up at night, and you can’t help but remember. And it’s killing you, it’s kill you painfully and slowly and you don’t think you can take it anymore. It doesn’t help that he’s all you have left and that he’s a ghost.

 A fucking ghost.

Well, sort of.

“What the fuck was that, _____? You had him!”

 But boy, he could still get on your nerves.

“I’d like to see your bitch ass try!”

 Your eyes snapped open and you swung your scythe at the demon, and missed. The debris under you flew everywhere as you tried to stabilize yourself for the upcoming attack. Breathing deeply, you stuck your scythe’s staff into the ground and jumped. It was a risky move, you knew, but it was worth a shot. Fate turned to rule in your favor. Your thighs wrapped around the demon’s neck and your scythe turned into a dagger, where you then plunged the blade into the demon’s eye repeatedly. Because of the close proximity, however, the demon pulled at your leg and towards his mouth. In a swift movement, you snapped his neck and used your weapon- which had since turned back into a scythe- to launch yourself off the demon’s back.

 The landing was unsuccessful and you rolled on the ground, earning cuts and bruises everywhere. Fuck! Why did you choose to wear a skirt today of all days? 

 “____, get up! Now’s the perfect time!”

 “I know that, Jisung! Just give me a second!”

 “You don’t have a second!”

 You grumbled a string of curses at him, but got up anyway. It was time for a spell. Spinning your scythe like a baton, you started chanting.

 “Fera impurus vis te cadent in gladio et in sæcula fecisti dolorem,” your scythe trembled slightly, a heat climbing up your body, and you felt the light envelop you completely, “nomine terrae et aquae, opiferque mortis visitabo vos!”

 The earth beneath you trembled, and you could feel your soul eating you up, but you couldn’t stop- not until he was nothing but demon guts. For Jisung.

 “____! Stop! You’re going to destroy everything! He’s dead, ____! He’s dead!”

 You stopped suddenly, collapsing on the ground. Demons couldn’t die. You knew that. What Jisung meant was that the demon was efficiently blown up. 

 You groaned as the smell finally hit you. Demon guts smelled awful. Oh, and all the destruction you meant a bunch of trees uproot themselves and splashed everything everywhere.

 “You can unmanifest now, Jisung.”

 “No way! What if something happens?”

 You shrugged, “I’ll cause the end of the world. Whatever. But I know it’s not your favorite shape to be in.”

 The scythe you still somehow had a grip on disappeared, and in its place was a hollow image of Jisung. 

 “Get up.”

 “No.”

 “_____, get up.”

 “No.”

 “_____,” Jisung crouched down, and you knew his hand was on your head even though you couldn’t feel it. “we need to get you home.”

 “Home isn’t going anywhere.”

 “Pretty soon the cops are going to show up and wonder why a kid is all bruised up and laying in the middle of the wreckage. You got any alibis handy?”

 You stuck your middle finger up, but you knew he was right. Hell, you could practically hear the sirens. 

 “Well, I guess we better get biking.”

 “Why don’t you get a car?”

 “Because they’re death traps, and they leave you vulnerable.”

 “At least you would get places quicker.”

 “You are literally a ghost, Jisung. Just, teleport.”

 He shrugged, “Then I’d be alone. I’d rather be with you.”

 Your face grew hot and you turned away from him, “I’ll think about it. But we can always just bike.”

 In the distance, the sound of sirens started to grow louder. “Fuck! Jisung c’mon.”

 “I told you!”

 You ran towards your bike and scrambled onto it, pedaling as fast as you could. The ride was anything but smooth. Why weren’t you blessed with teleportation powers? All you had were these pesky psychic powers, and they were totally out of control- you couldn’t do anything without destroying the surrounding ecosystem. But damn you if you couldn’t pedal fast. Cops were never good news. Ever. 

 Fuck!

 You forgot to collect the demon’s blood. 

 Something appeared in the distance and you closed your eyes to better sense it. It was a strange aura, and an entirely odd shaped soul. Oh! Oh. You turned your bike around, but the turn was too sharp and you ended up falling off- further scraping your body. And Jisung, of course, had the audacity to laugh. Somehow, you had the self restraint to ignore him. 

 God knew you’d be too powerful if you could teleport. 

 You moved slowly, distributing the weight of your body and listening to the earth. You outstretched your hand, hoping he would get the hint- and he did.

 The dagger’s handle filled the grip of your hand and you held it tightly, until you could feel Jisung’s soul latch onto yours. It was like holding his hand again. His soul felt like hot chocolate. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind.

 The unidentified object started to move, you could feel the earth underneath you shake slightly- the roots of trees ache slightly, the wild flowers and mushrooms sending out warning signals to you.  

 You felt it come up, and instinctively, you slashed at it. The smell, however, was familiar. Now, how does that work? How could a demon regenerate that fast? And now his soul- or what would be his soul is all fucked up. 

 The sirens- siren? There was only one cop car, which was pretty lucky for you. That’s okay, you can multitask.

 “_____, this isn’t a good idea. We need to make a break for it.”

 “I’ll be fine, Jisung. This isn’t anything we haven’t done before.”

 “It’s too much of a risk. I’m unmanifesting.”

 “I’m doing this for you!”

 Jisung didn’t answer. The demon made a swipe for your leg, and you felt his nails scratch a long line down your leg and then you felt the dagger dissolve. But that’s fine. You could handle yourself. 

  “Et oblita es qui es. a quo factum est. tibi perdidit.”

 The demon, frantic in it’s amnesia, tried to make a pass at you. Too much was going on. You felt like your insides were melting. You turned towards the demon- and you don’t even remember casting a spell- but you felt him explode- the demon blood splattering across your face.  

 The cop was coming closer, you could feel his footfall in the earth. You didn’t care, and more importantly, you didn’t have time. You could feel the light burning through you, your soul bleeding out. You snapped the necklace that was around your neck, and collected the blood on your face to drop into the vial that was attached to it. 

 Recklessly, you let the cop watch you. You could feel him stop in his tracks, afraid. He was stunned, and so you just walked past him, limping. You looked at him, looking at you. But you didn’t care. He wasn’t going to do anything. That much you knew.

 And Jisung wasn’t having it. 

 “You could’ve died.”

 “Maybe, but I didn’t. I’m powerful enough to keep myself alive. And I didn’t hurt anyone.”

 “_____, aren’t you listening? You could’ve died- you’re just getting stronger and you don’t have any control over yourself-.”

“I know! I know, Jisung! But atleast I would’ve ended up with you again! That’s all I want.” you choked on your tears, “I know you’re worried about me. I don’t mean to do it. I just want you back. I just want to be with you again. I don’t care how it happens.”

 “Oh, ______.”

 “I’m sorry, Jisung. I don’t mean to be an asshole.”

 “Hey,” he tried to grab your hand, and you swear you could’ve burst into tears, “we’re gonna figure it out. It’s gonna be okay.”

The rest of the walk was spent in a silence. Finally, you and Jisung got home. And the first thing you wanted to do was eat. Thankful you had stopped bleeding some time ago. Even better, you lived in the absolute middle of nowhere, so no one came across your bloody self. And even if they did, it would just become another one of the forest’s ghost stories.

 The reputation helped people keep away. 

“Shouldn’t you shower?”

“Nah.”

 Jisung had disappeared for a bit as you made your ramen. Well, making was a bit of an exaggeration. All you had to do was boil water. Normally, you would chef it up, but the using of your powers made you feel absolutely exhausted. You sighed, the water in the kettle finally boiling, and began pouring the water into the noodle cup

 “_____.”

 You jumped, almost spilling the cup all over yourself.

 “Yes, Jisung?”

 “Can I possess you?”

 “For what reason?”

 “Oh, I have several. One, I really want some of that ramen you’re eating and two, you love me.”

 You sighed, rolling your shoulder and staring at him, “If you do laundry.”

 “You’re cruel.”

 “And you’re a ghost. Care to spew any other obvious facts?”

 He huffed, crossing his arms, “I could do it without your permission, I’m doing it because I’m a nice person.”

 “Yeah, you’re a real casper. Very friendly.”

 “So,” he dragged his o’s, “is that a yes?”

 “Fine.”

 Jisung clapped his hands, and sprinted into you. He still had a soul, somehow, and it mixed in with yours. It wasn’t so much an uncomfortable feeling so much as it was plain strange. You could feel your consciousness slipping and you let it. You didn’t mind sharing your consciousness so much. It was comforting, in a sense. You could feel his soul in it’s entirety again. You fell, hitting the floor. You were in the half space again.

 Atleast, that’s what you called it. Half conscious, half not. Sharing it, basically. You could still see what was going on, but not in the same way. It was like watching a movie in the theaters, except the screen is small and you’re so far away. 

 Jisung?

 _____, this ramen is so, so good.

I’m glad you like it. I’m gonna let you take control for a while.

Jisung hummed in response. 

 You walked in the empty space. To anyone else, you think the nothingness would be overwhelming, but to you it was silent. With someone else driving your body, you could organize your thoughts. In the half space, you were truly alone. This was also the time you could plan out spells to help materialize Jisung for good. You breathed deeply, put your index finger and thumb over your nose, and plunged. The water was quite cold, but, at least in your mind, memory was stored in the water. 

 Turmeric.

 Graveyard dirt.

 Blood of the assailant.

 A vision came to you, suddenly. It was vague and fast, mostly colors that didn’t make sense. And then, it started to clear. It was Jisung. Well- not quite, it was Jisung’s chest you were against. He was crying and breathing hard. You felt your body convulse, white spiking in your vision, and you felt like molten ocean water and tree roots breaking out of you.

 Suddenly, you came back to. 

You breathed hard. 

 There are two things that you’ve learned about your visions: one being that there was nothing you could do to change the outcome, and two, that it will always happen. No matter what. You learned those two the day Jisung-

 No, you wouldn’t say it. But the vision meant that Jisung would come back to life. That was good. But you couldn’t tell him- not until you were sure of what would lead up to it. You didn’t want to get his hopes up. 

 Sometimes you wished that you hadn’t quit school. Yeah, maybe they thought you were going to bring about the end of the world and completely isolated you from the rest of the school’s population, but at least they could help you maintain your powers.

 You shook your head, floating up in the water. 

 Jesus, just when you thought things couldn’t get more complicated.

 You can have your body back.

 I don’t really want to, I kind of like it here.

We don’t really know how this works, ____. We don’t even know how you can still use me as a scyth.

You sighed, Yes, I suppose you’re right.

Getting out of the half space, however, was never as easy as getting into it. You were flung into the real world, your insides being stretched out and then compressed back into your body. Dazed, the realms hadn’t separated yet. The human, the spirit, and the earth realm was all present and it made your brain hurt. Evidently, you had spent too much time in the half space. 

 Right when you were about to pass out, the door opened, and the cop stood in the door frame.

 Damn, could you catch a break?

[dreamcatcherjiah]

Part 5

Inside that little bubble that you didn’t want to burst, you just knew that you were hugging your lifeline. You wouldn’t want to let go for the rest of your life and that was okay with you. The euphoric feeling was slowly fading, and it was leaving a sweet aftertaste all over your body, the taste of a very special connection that you couldn’t name. It had happened and there was no turning back now, that much you knew. Something didn’t allow you to distinguish where you started and the other person ended; whose heartbeat was whose; were you breathing anymore or were you just getting your oxygen from the other person? No, that was a ridiculous idea; if you weren’t really breathing, you would have already passed out. In all earnestness, something was different from mere minutes before, and it wasn’t only the fact that you weren’t in pain anymore. Your world had shifted, somehow you knew that now its centre was in your arms and you were incredibly okay with it. The problematic use of those words would crash on you later, when you realised how strange it was, and made you reflect in all your decisions from that same moment; but for now it was time only to enjoy the flying ecstasy that took over your two bodies and made you feel things that could not belong to you, but an amalgam of different emotions that no doubt belonged to both of you and none at the same time.

The way you would describe it if someone asked you to elaborate would be an extracorporeal sensation that somehow felt so raw and, while it gave your two bodies wings to fly high, it also rooted you to the earth and to each other. Your nervous terminations didn’t feel like yours anymore; they were his and his were yours. Your hands weren’t just yours anymore, but his to hold. It would scare any sane mind, only the mere recollection of your thoughts not belonging to you anymore, of having another person inside of your head, that could feel every little thing, read the most latent of thoughts, make it impossible for you to hide any secret from them. And so were you thinking, until a calming wave of blind love and devotion washed over you and these thoughts were erased. Such powerful connection was making it difficult for you to see clearly, blinded by so many powerful emotions, stimuli that your brain, saddled with the consequences of stomaching pain for such a long time, couldn’t seem to grasp. You wanted to yell, to tell that traitorous organ of yours to snap itself out of the daze, to realise how wrong it was to trade freedom, with every sense the word had, for a small respite from the pain. This same connection could take such a dangerous form if you weren’t careful. In those few seconds before the bubble burst, you could only think about how happy and liberated you felt, while in some remote part of your brain that little girl who dreamt of being her independent self in the future battled with the sedating infection of the bond and yelled, wanting the freedom from the pain, while not having to tie herself to another person. But in the end the sedatives worked their effect and the little girl was silenced by the romantic and marvellously painless appearance of your soulmate. 

As good things are almost always short-lived, it was almost a question of time before the people around you decided to interrupt the moment. The recognition that had happened almost blindly was about to become visible, you would open your eyes and everything would turn into focus, the blissful ignorance of the moment would disappear. Did you want it to? Your now liberated heart screamed for you to do so, to open your eyes and end the spell that so much bliss had brought you, but you were a coward and you couldn’t bring yourself to end the illusion. 

It was the exhale you heard from your soulmate lips that brought you back to the present. Their voice repeating the word “finally” over and over again was so familiar it almost turned your trust into despondence. It couldn’t be, now could it? The probabilities that your soulmate was one of the seven men you had seen up on the stage not two hours ago was one in a billion, there was no way in hell the man you were clinging to was one of them.

Apart from your soulmate’s voice you started hearing some other voices, some calm and soothing, others in hysterics and some others just laughing. It was fitting, you had to admit. Each and every one of those emotions were going through your mind that same second and it was incredibly funny how they were reflected in the people around you.

With much of the little will you had left in your body, you disentangled your arms from around your soulmate’s neck and took a deep breath. It was time, it was time to end the illusion and to open your eyes. You couldn’t contain your curiosity any longer, and it was incredibly difficult to silence your thoughts, which were running wilder the longer you remained blinded. Taking a couple of seconds to steel your nerves, you finally opened your eyes. 

Holding you was a beautiful man, whose dark brown eyes were brimming with tears, latching onto his long lashes. One of those little tears had made its way along his small, straight nose and had positioned itself just above his upper lip. Those lips that formed a perfect heart, showcasing his perfect, white teeth. His face was utter perfection, but the most outstanding quality of his features was the way his eyes alone were smiling at you. They creased on the corners and little bags appeared below them, turning them into little crescents; the best thing of all was the love and devotion they showed, one hundred per cent reflected in your own eyes. Or was it the intoxication talking?

“I can’t believe I found you just when I was ready to give you up,” you said, completely in awe. Your right hand, moving on its own accord, reached up and caressed his cheek tenderly. How could this beautiful man be your soulmate? What had you done right in your previous life to deserve him? These and a thousand other questions filled your heart, such was the happiness you were being subject to that a little bit escaped your eyes as tears.

“Please, don’t cry,” he pleaded. “I can’t bear to see any other expression in your face other than that beautiful smile.”

His words did only just that, made you smile the sappiest grin your mouth could form, and his followed suit, turning into a little heart. What a beautiful soulmate you’d gotten yourself.

“Look, I’m not saying I’m not happy they found each other…” said a voice a bit behind you, reaching your ears as if your head was underwater. “But this is getting ridiculous. Did they hit their heads when they crashed against each other? That right there isn’t my Hoseokie.”

“Hyung I think you should give her your water bottle,” said another voice, “I think she might collapse due to the shock.”

“Hey, look here young lady, breathe in… breathe out… it’s okay, you’re okay…”

“OF COURSE I’M OKAY,” shouted your friend, completely out of her mind. Hearing her so stressed did somehow manage to break through your haze and you turned your head to look for her. “BUT MY FRIEND WAS CONVULSING AND HER NOSE AND EARS WERE BLEEDING AND SHE FAINTED AND THE NEXT SECOND SHE’S UP AND RUNNING AS IF SHE WASN’T HALF DEAD TEN MINUTES AGO!”

She was sitting on the floor, hair completely in disarray and clothes wrinkled and dirty. She had tear stains running down her cheeks and her makeup was all smudged over her eyes and temples, as if she had tried to dry her tears with her arm. 

“And she says she’s okay,” whispered another voice, prompting Hyejin to turn her head snappily towards them, giving them the deathliest glare you had ever seen. “Ooops, I guess…”

Worried for your friend you hadn’t noticed how your soulmate buried his face in your face and inhaled deeply, adding to the intoxication surrounding the both of you. His senses went into overdrive and he hurried his face deeper into you, kissing that place between your neck and your shoulder. That you did feel, as well as your knees failing you and how your soulmate had to tighten his hold on you so you didn’t collapse due to the scalding sensation that travelled through your body as his lips touched your skin. 

“For God’s sake! This is getting ridiculous! Someone get them off each other!” Ordered a deep voice, getting closer and closer to you.

A hand suddenly gripped your elbow and, applying a bit more force than necessary, tore you away from your soulmate.

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water down your head. The feeling of euphoria left your body, the cloud surrounding your brain dispersed and you could finally think clearly. Turning on your heels, you wasted no time in running to your friend and kneeling in the floor in front of her.

“Hyejin! Oh my God, I am so sorry!” You cried.

She looked at you dead in the eye, not saying a word, with her brows creased and her expression neutral. You were acutely aware that there was a good amount of people surrounding the both of you, but being able to think clearly once again, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were focused on your friend and making sure she was alright.

“Are you okay now?” Was the first thing you heard from Hyejin’s lips after her shouting match not five minutes ago. Nodding profusely, you weren’t ready for her to jump you and start throwing punches at your arms or at your stomach, not punches that could harm you much, had you not been in pain for months on end before this day.

“Stop, please,” you pleaded, trying to use your arms to cover your chest and ribs, the parts of your body that had been most affected by the pain, making you a bit paranoid in case she landed a good punch somewhere near those areas. “I didn’t mean to scare you that much! I swear, it wasn’t intentional!”

“I know it wasn’t intentional, but I swear to God, if I have to see you ever again in this condition I am ending you myself!! I — I thought you were— I thought you were d-dead, back there,” she hiccuped, her voice retreating back into her body as her movements stilled too. “I can’t believe you were so sick and I didn’t know, how could you hide this from me, Y/N? I know we are not that close, but seeing the state you were in… Oh my God, you could have died tonight…”

The emotion behind her trembling voice moved you to the core and, throwing your arms around her shoulders, you hugged her how you had been unable for months due to the pain. She finally relaxed and hugged you back, whispering nonsense in your ear, sentences that you couldn’t make sense of, but you automatically assumed it was due to the shock. Hers or yours, you weren’t really sure. Taking calming breaths, in and out, you took and evaluation of your surroundings and could hear people whispering.

“This could either be too good or too bad,” said someone with a characteristic deep voice. “You shouldn’t touch her for the time being, hyung.”

“I don’t know what got into me, I swear, I just couldn’t get enough…”

“And we do NOT need to know that much Jung Hoseok!” Screamed someone else.

You turned your head so fast, you were sure something had snapped in your neck, and looked at the group of men standing a bit over to your side. And just in the middle of them was standing your soulmate. You could tell just by the way your heartbeat accelerated that the man who was looking at you was your soulmate, Jung Hoseok, surrounded on all sides by the rest of BTS and their bodyguards. 

“And I thought I was screwed before.”

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

A/n: What did you guys think of this update?? I am not really happy with it, but things are getting interesting from now on hehehehe😏😏 Let's chat!!

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list.

Love 💜🌙

Tag list: @obsessoverthesmallthings247 @threedecadesofawkward @mabel-k3 @tremendousminyoongi @justignoremepleaz @demonic-meatball @hadaises @littlestsweetpea28 @rjsmochii @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @gali-005 @salty-for-suga @indicisive-af @nomimist7 @lyssjeon @raisatarannum1234 @purplelady85 @threedecadesofawkward @valentynxmgc @acopenhagenarmy @ephyra1230

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (42/?)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121633/chapters/73887387

S1, OP2

“I’m sorry, Kusunoki-kun...”

I shook my head.

“It’s okay, Kunikida-san,” I insisted, turning to the man next to me. “Really.”

I shot him a small, hesitant smile.

“You were uncomfortable and you wanted to leave. I understand.”

But Kunikida didn’t respond.

For a moment, he just kept staring out at the line of trees at the horizon, as if he could see something beyond those thick green groves that no one else could. But then, he turned to me and smiled, and his expression was so uncharacteristically weary that it actually hurt for me to look at him.

Kunikida-san...

I tightened my grip on the bench.

He was so quiet the entire way here. In fact, that apology was the first thing he said to me since we left the tackle shop behind and arrived at Negishi Forest Park.

Something must have happened at that tackle shop before I’d joined the Agency—something awful.

I bit my lip.

I don’t think I’d ever seen him like this before...

“Thank you, Kusunoki-kun,” Kunikida murmured, his beautiful gray-green eyes appearing to focus on me at last.

His expression softened a little as he looked at me, but not so much that I couldn’t see the shadows subtly lengthening under his eyes.

“You’re very kind.”

I wanted to shake my head again, to protest.

‘Kind?’

How was it kind of me to take him to a place that clearly held bad memories for him? A place I’d barely researched before dragging him all the way out to Negishi from the middle of Chinatown?

“I’m sorry... Rokuzou... Sasaki-san...”

I took in the fine lines around my mentor’s eyes—lines that I hadn’t noticed before in the harsh glare of the bright midday sun.

Who were the people whose names he had called? How were they connected to that refurbished tackle shop by the sea?

And why...?

I bit down harder on my lip.

Why did he sound like he was in so much pain when he whispered their names out loud?

I studied my companion, taking in his slightly hunched posture, his faraway gaze.

I should cheer him up. It was the least I could do after what I just put him through...

“H-hey, Kunikida-san?”

The blonde detective perked up a little at the sound of his own name.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and scooted closer.

“Have you... come to this park in the spring before?”

Kunikida looked me.

“No, I don’t think I have,” he said slowly. “Why do you ask?”

“Well...”

I gestured up, at the trees in the distance he’d just been staring at. As I’d looked at them earlier, I’d slowly recognized them as sakura trees and knew that in about a year’s time, their branches were sure to erupt in clouds of pale pink blossoms. It might be a little hard for Kunikida to picture it but I’d sketched enough of these in classes to know what I was talking about.

I looked back at my handsome mentor’s face and smiled.

“This just strikes me as a nice place to go flower-viewing in the spring,” I said, noting the way his sage-colored eyes seemed to brighten behind his thin, rectangular glasses.

I twiddled my fingers in my lap.

“I-if it’s something the rest of the Agency might be interested in,” I suggested, “I could organize a flower-viewing trip to the park next year in March?”

I paused.

“W-what do you think?”

“A company flower-viewing party next spring?” Kunikida mumbled, turning back to look at the scenery ahead.

A tiny smile slowly crept onto his face.

“That sounds nice,” he said, nodding a little as he continued to stare at the trees.

He glanced back at me and that tiny smile widened.

“But I thought we both agreed not to talk about work any more, in case Yosano-sensei somehow hears about it and decides to chop us both in half?”

I blanched.

“Shit, I forgot!”

But as I clapped my hands over my mouth and flushed in embarrassment, mortified that I’d caught myself swearing in front of my crush, Kunikida suddenly tipped his head back and started to laugh.

I stopped trying to cover my face and stared.

“K-Kunikida-san?!”

“Sorry,” Kunikida chuckled, “I was just teasing, Kusunoki-kun. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. It’s just—your face.”

He turned away and covered his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make such a face before. It was just too funny, I couldn’t help myself.”

He let out one final chuckle and leaned back against the bench, crossing his legs in front of him and folding his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry I was in such a strange mood earlier,” he said, running one hand through his hair as he looked out across the fields. “And I’m sure you have a lot of questions about what happened at the tackle shop and why I reacted the way I did but...”

His expression grew somber.

“I’m not quite ready to talk about these things with you. Not right now anyway. Maybe in the future, when you’ve gotten to know me and Dazai—”

I stiffened.

Dazai? What did he have to do with all this?

“—and the Agency a little better, we’ll be able to discuss it. But for now...”

He smiled softly.

“I want to say thank you,” he said, the look in his eyes radiating warmth and sincerity. “For cheering me up. I really needed that laugh...”

I felt my cheeks grow warm.

“No problem...”

Ah... he’s too brilliant...

I looked away, my cheeks glowing like the setting sun.

It’s hard to look directly at him when he’s smiling like this...!

But as my gaze finally settled on the neatly paved path in front of us, I caught sight of our shadows stretching across the road.

Our very long shadows stretching across the road...

I jerked up to look at the setting sun and gasped.

Oh, no...

I scrambled to my feet, startling Kunikida.

“Kusunoki?”

It was almost five. Almost the end of the official work day at the Agency and the end of my scheduled time together with Kunikida. I knew my mentor well enough to know that the moment the hour was up, he was going to get up from that bench, thank me politely for taking him out for the day and just leave. Probably for whatever location was next on his tightly packed agenda. President Fukuzawa might have ordered Kunikida to not do anything work-related during the day, but that didn’t mean he had to discontinue his evening routine, whatever that might be.

If I was going to confess, I was going to have to do it now, while the mood was still good!

I clenched my hands into fists.

“K-Kunikida-san...!”

Sweat was pouring down the back of my neck. I could feel the collar of my shirt sticking to my skin.

“I...”

Kunikida sat up a little as I struggled to speak.

“I...!”

“Yes...?” Kunikida asked patiently, his sage-green eyes locked on mine.

His lips parted and he spoke his next words in a low, husky whisper.

“What is it, Kusunoki-kun?”

Oh God...

I sagged a little on my feet under the man’s gentle gaze.

I can’t do this...

I slapped my hands over my burning face.

Not while he’s looking at me like that! It’s too much...!

“Are you... feeling alright?” Kunikida asked, his voice now tinged with concern. “Your face is really red.”

“Fine,” I mumbled, slouching forward. “I’m fine. I’m just... a little thirsty. That’s all…”

Spotting a set of vending machines just down the road, I turned towards Kunikida and gestured towards it rigidly.

“C-can I get you anything to drink, Kunikida-san?” I asked abruptly, as my companion blinked at me in surprise. “I’m sure you have a long journey back to your apartment complex later and uh, you know...”

I tried to smile but it felt strained.

“Good to stay hydrated, right?”

“Uh, sure...” Kunikida trailed off, looking at me oddly. “Then... green tea, please. If they have it.”

I nodded quickly.

“Be right back!”

And before he could say another word, I ran off.

Coward. Idiot. Moron.

I banged my head against the vending machine as I waited for the cans of tea to come out.

How could I have chickened out like that?!

How??

Over the past couple of months, I’d been chased down, shot at, blown up, dissected and strangled—not to mention slashed into ribbons by one of the most fearsome Ability Users in the entire country. How the hell had I faced down all of these threats and more, only to come out the other side unable to do something as simple as tell my crush that I liked him?!

I heard an echoing thud and opened my eyes to see that the canned drinks had tumbled into the receptacle by my feet.

I crouched down to pick them up and sighed.

I had to confess and I had to do it today! Who knew when I was going to get an opportunity like this again? Yosano, Kyouka and Atsushi (probably? I wasn’t exactly sure if the tiger boy actually knew what was going on) were all rooting for me. I’d even gone to the trouble of calling Dazai for help...!

I frowned.

Speaking of Dazai...

Why had Kunikida suddenly brought up his bandaged partner? And in the same breath as the fishing tackle store? Did that maniac know something that I didn’t?

Or worse...

I reached inside the receptacle for the first of the two cans.

“You already have everything you need...”

Had Dazai actually given me that hint so that he could sabotage my confession somehow? He was the type to play the long game, after all and I knew just how much he loved a good prank.

But then again...

I took the first can out and set it on the ground.

If that was the case...

Once again, I heard Dazai’s long, drawn-out sigh echoing in my ear.

“ You really want Kunikida-kun to like you, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

I took the second can out and studied its slightly dented surface.

Then why did he always sound so sad whenever he was talking to me about Kunikida-san?

I put my free hand over my face and closed my eyes.

Dazai Osamu...

What was he doing this for? Why was he helping me? Was it really all for the sake of some immeasurably cruel joke?

Or...

“ I know I’ve said and done a lot of things in the past,” Dazai said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “But I need you to trust me on this one. I don’t lie during negotiations and since you’ve already held up your end of the bargain...”

He paused.

“ I’m all but obligated to help you. So, I’ll ask you again.”

I opened my eyes and stared at the slightly dented can on the ground.

“Kusunoki-kun...”

Was Dazai actually helping me because he genuinely cared about me?

“Do you trust me?”

“ I do,” I whispered aloud.

Rising onto my feet, I took out my cell phone and opened the photos back up.

“Kusunoki-kun... Sometimes things happen that you’re not ready for. Things like developing feelings for someone... But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to act on those feelings.”

I enlarged the first photo.

“Even if you’re not sure it’s right.”

It was possible that I’d gotten Dazai’s meaning all wrong.

I squinted at the pixels on the first image, examining the margins for any sign of bleeding ink from the previous page.

It was entirely possible that he hadn’t meant that I should be using Kunikida’s notebook to figure out how to make him happy...

I finished scrolling through the first image and went to the second one.

... But this was the only thing I had to go off of. And I wasn’t planning to call to ask about it again.

The second image yielded no results, so I went to the third.

I had to trust Dazai. I had to trust that the answers were somehow in my possession already and that it was because of my own blindness and stupidity that I’d missed them the first time.

I briefly lifted my eyes towards the treeline, where the bright orange ball of the sun was now grazing the tops of the deep green foliage.

And I had to trust that I would be able to find them in time in order to make this confession a successful one...

“...Kusunoki-kun?”

I jumped.

I was so focused on frantically searching through the photos for some kind of hint that I didn’t even hear Kunikida’s footsteps approaching from behind.

“ Kunikida- san! ”

I hid my cell phone behind my back and tried not to look suspicious.

“H-hey!” I quipped, all too aware of my twitchy smile and unnaturally stiff posture. “What’re you doing all the way over here?”

“Well,” Kunikida said, stopping just a little bit in front of me. “You were taking a while, so I thought I’d come over to see if everything was okay .”

He grew quiet.

His eyebrows knitted together, his lips turning downwards in a frown.

“ Is everything okay...? Kusunoki- kun? ”

Huh?

“Of course everything’s okay ,” I stammered, blindly trying to stuff my cell phone into my purse before realizing that it was actually hanging in front of me .

What’s with that reaction? Why is Kunikida looking at me like that?

“W-why wouldn’t it be?”

Kunikida’ s frown deepened .

“ Because this is the second time you’ve run off this afternoon,” he said, crossing his arms. “ With that look on your face .”

I stopped fumbling with my cell phone at once.

“ Eh?”

“First,” Kunikida explained, “there was the tea shop. You were looking pretty stressed out right before you ‘went to the bathroom,’ and when you left, you were gone for such a long time that I almost decided to ask the clerk to go and check in on you. But then, when you came back, you seemed to be doing so much better that I decided it was better for me not to ask.”

I felt my mouth drop open a little in surprise.

He... he noticed?

“ But then, you ran off again just now,” Kunikida said, gesturing to the vending machines behind me. “While you were clearly in the middle of trying to say something to me. It actually made me wonder if I’d done something wrong.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

“I thought maybe it was because of what happened at the tackle shop earlier. I started wondering if I should just pull myself together and tell you what happened. But then I realized…”

His gray-green eyes met mine.

“You’ve been stressed out all day, haven’t you?” Kunikida asked.

I was...

The cell phone I was holding behind my back slipped a little in my grasp.

I’d been trying to hide it from him all day, but he’d noticed anyway.

I couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Kusunoki- kun ...”

Kunikida sighed.

“I know that you were given the difficult task of helping me relax today,” he said, “but that shouldn’t come at the cost of your own peace of mind. You know ... ”

He took a step towards me.

“If there’s something bothering you—something besides just the schedule getting thrown off—you can talk to me about it. I’m your—”

He faltered for a moment, a streak of bright pink flooding across his face.

“I’m your mentor,” he said at last, his cheeks flushing redder. “And I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. Anything at all! No matter what it is. So, please...”

He studied my face.

“ L et me help you with it.”

I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

“ Kunikida- san ...”

No matter what it is...?

My cell phone slipped a little further in my hands.

Did he really mean that...?

“ I mean that, you know,” Kunikida said, as if reading my mind.

He took another step towards me.

“ But I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

What’s going on...

I parted my lips, the words beginning to form on the tip of my tongue.

Should I tell him?

I looked around the park, at the trees and fields of grass dyed in shades of orange and gold, as if set ablaze in the late-afternoon light. I glanced up at the road, where the last of a group of tourists was gradually making their way past the building in the distance, slowly exiting the grounds.

And finally...

I glanced back at the man in front of me, whose dirty-blonde bangs were blowing gently in the breeze, his thin ponytail flowing behind him like a ribbon made of silk. His gray-green eyes burned in the light of the setting sun.

I swallowed.

Was it really time?

“ Kunikida- san ...”

I took a tiny breath in and steeled myself.

“There... there actually was something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

Kunikida perked up.

“Oh?” he ask ed.

And before I could say another word, he slowly reached into his blazer—

“Alright. In that case...”

—and pulled out his notebook.

I froze.

“What did you want to tell me?” Kunikida asked, taking out his black-and-gold fountain pen and holding it at the ready.

But I could no longer speak . At the sight of that familiar olive-green notebook coming out of Kunikida’s blazer, I abruptly remembered exactly what I was hiding behind my back:

Photographs... of some of the most private pages in Kunikida’s notebook. The notebook he was holding in front of him right now.

My hands shook.

I couldn’t do this. I had no right.

Without thinking about what I was doing, I started backing away.

“ Kusunoki...?”

Lowering his notebook a little, Kunikida stared at me over the top of those lightly-bound pages.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t...” I whispered, my voice shaking as I spoke. “I can’t tell you...”

Kunikida’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean you can’t?” he asked, suddenly looking shocked.

But I shook my head and kept backing away.

I couldn’t confess to him. I wasn’t qualified to. I never was.

Kunikida’s ideal woman wouldn’t do something as underhanded as what I just did—what I’ve been doing this whole time.

I was never worthy of Kunikida to begin with.

“ I just can’t , okay?” I stammered, squeezing the cell phone behind my back so hard that my hands started to shake .

“ I’m so sorry, Kunikida- san . But I can’t tell you why I’ve been so stressed. Please don’t ask me any more about it.”

“ Why not?!” Kunikida asked.

He sounded genuinely alarmed now.

“Kusunoki—”

I felt my shoe bump into something metallic but I ignored it and kept backing away, my mind fully focused on pressing the right buttons on my phone so that I could delete the photos I had up on my screen.

But I couldn’t see what I was doing.

And I couldn’t see where I was going.

I heard a tiny metallic squeak as the heel of my left shoe pushed against something rounded and smooth. Without thinking, I put my weight down.

Kunikida’s eyes widened.

“ Watch out —!”

He reached out towards me but it was too late. I heard a weird crunching noise coming from beneath my shoe and before I knew what was happening, my leg suddenly shot out from under me.

My phone flew out of my hand.

“Ah—!”

Kunikida rushed towards me, his hand outstretched.

“ Kyou—!”

But I wasn’t looking at him. I was looking at my phone, watching helplessly as the thin, silvery device sailed through the air and away from me. I tried to reach for it but my arms were just too short...

I hit the ground without it.

“ Ow.. .”

Groaning, I sat up a little higher where I fell, wincing as I felt my backside bruising painfully underneath me. When I opened my eyes again, I saw that the bright green can of tea I’d forgotten to pick up earlier—the can I’d just stepped on, causing me to slip and fall—was rolling away from me like a wheel from a car wreck. And as it hit Kunikida’s shoe and came to an abrupt stop in front of him, I saw my cell phone lying face-up on the pavement between us.

Before I could get up and try to take it back, Kunikida stepped forward and scooped it up in his hand.

“ You dropped this ,” he said quietly.

He wasn’t smiling.

“Kunikida-san...”

I stumbled a little as I tried to get to my feet.

“ This isn’t what it looks like.” “Oh?”

Kunikida inclined his head towards the phone in his hand.

He flipped the phone around so that I could see the display. Even from where I was sitting, I could make out the neat penmanship and fine, dark strokes of Kunikida’s handwriting.

“It looks like you were hiding this from me. And that you went through my notebook, took a picture of a very private page and saved it to your phone. And I’m guessing...”

His jaw tightened.

“This isn’t the only one.”

From the way he said it, I got the feeling I didn’t need to answer.

Kunikida sighed.

He closed his notebook with a sharp snap but didn’t put it away. “Then, tell me. What does it look like? Because from here...”

“ Kusunoki... I’m not opposed to showing you things from my notebook if there’s something in it you’re interested in. Like I said, I’m your mentor and I completely understand if you want to see my schedules, plans or ideals, or even just see how I work. But this...!”

At once his expression grew pained.

“ This is what you were hiding from me?” Kunikida asked, his tone tinged with shock and disbelief. “ This is what you were running off to check all day? I don’t understand. Kusunoki...!! ”

He ran his hand through his hair, looking hurt and confused.

“Why were you so interested in these particular pages?”

“ Kunikida- san ...”

I bit my lip.

“You really don’t know...?”

Kunikida shook his head.

“There’s a reason I have the photos of those pages ,” I told him, gradually rising up before his eyes . “ A very good one...”

I slowly got to my feet.

“ Do you remember my very first day at work, Kunikida- san ? When you took me downstairs to get lunch together at the Uzumaki Cafe? You told me that everything there is to know about you —no ...”

I shook my head.

“That everything you consider important about yourself—is written in that little green book.”

I stood before him.

“I kept those photographs because I wanted to study them,” I said, my voice growing stronger as I spoke. “I wanted to know exactly what kind of woman was Kunikida-san’s type... because...”

I swallowed dryly.

“ I wanted to become that woman. What I’m trying to say is...”

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Kunikida- san ...”

I opened them and looked straight ahead into Kunikida Doppo’s beautiful sage-gray eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, his lips slowly parted. *** (stop playing music here)

“...what?”

“I’m in love with you,” I repeated, my face growing warm at last. “I’ve been in love with you... For a long time now... I...”

I clutched at my chest, twisting and wrinkling the fabric of my shirt.

“I was planning to tell you at the end of the day today, just...”

I bit my lip again.

“ Just not like this...”

I heard Kunikida breathe a sigh.

“Kusunoki...”

“ I’m sorry I kept those pictures of your notebook and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier!” I said in a rush. “It’s just... I didn’t know what else to do.”

I looked away .

“ Kunikida-san...” I mumbled, staring at my feet. “I’ve been in love with you ever since we finished our first case together. When you first saved me at that art gallery, I thought you were amazing. You were so strong and brave and selfless . But then, when I started working at the Agency and you became my mentor, I realized...”

I felt my face burn even hotter under Kunikida’s silent gaze.

“N ot only are you strong and brav e, you’re patient and kind as well. I don’t know how you were able to deal with someone as useless as me, especially considering how often I messed up but...! Then I realized!”

I looked back up at him.

“ Kunikida- san is kind because he cares ...”

I felt my voice breaking.

“And it’s because you care so much that you work so hard. You’re always working so hard, Kunikida-san! For the sake of those around you!”

At those words, Kunikida suddenly twitched.

“I think it’s incredible how you’re always looking to see the good in everyone. Even me... In fact, I think it’s one of the best things about you.”

For some reason, Kunikida was shaking his head, but I pressed on.

“ You’re always helping people, always looking to make this world a better place, one case at a time. And you have. You’ve saved so many people, Kunikida-san...! You’ve saved me—!”

BSD Music 1

“ YOU’RE WRONG!!” Kunikida burst out .

I stopped talking immediately.

“Kunikida- san ...?”

“I said...” Kunikida whispered, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I said you’re wrong. I’m nothing like the man you’ve just described. I’m not...”

He covered his face with one hand, his posture visibly crumpling. Alarmed, I ran to him but h is next words stopped me dead in my tracks .

“ I’m not that incredible at all.”

“ Yes, you are!” I exclaimed, confused and frightened. “Didn’t you hear anything I just said? I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt for such a long time, but I never worked up the nerve—”

“Kusunoki.”

Once again I was struck silent.

Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. I didn’t know what kind of reaction I was expecting after confessing and laying my heart out on the line but it wasn’t this—!

“ I haven’t saved as many people as you think I have ,” Kunikida said quietly, his hand still over his eyes.

“In fact, I’ve failed...”

He gripped his notebook in his hand with my cell phone, his knuckles going white against the stark black lettering. The kanji for “Ideal” shook in his grip.

“... more times than I can count. ”

“Kunikida-san...”

“ Kusunoki- kun .”

Kunikida dropped his hand away from his face.

“Please don’t talk about things you don’t understand. There are so many things that happened before you joined the Agency—”

Like the thing that happened at the tackle shop?

“Things that would make you shrink in horror— things that would make you hate me, if you knew...!”

“ I could never hate you !” I cried, clutching my chest. “ Never! Why don’t you t ell me what happened and then let me decide for myself?”

But Kunikida was shaking his head again.

“ I can’t do that,” he said. “ There’s just too much to say. Too much that I can’t properly explain.”

He lowered his gaze.

“My misdeeds are a weight I must carry on my own . It wouldn’t be right of me to burden you with them.”

“Even if I want to share the load?” I whispered aloud.

Kunikida’s eyes sharpened .

“ You’re a compassionate girl, Kusunoki- kun, ” he said, his eyes softening just a little. “And your kindness is just one of the many qualities that make you well-suited to being a member of the Armed Detective Agency . But you should never—never—offer to carry a load when you don’t understand just how heavy it is.”

He took my cell phone out and held it in front of him, gazing wretchedly at it.

“If you knew the truth about me... about the things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt...”

He bit his lip and squeezed the cell phone in his hand, anguish written into every feature of his handsome face as he stared at it.

“ I wonder if you would still feel the way you do.”

“ Why...?”

At the sound of my voice, Kunikida looked back up.

“Why do you talk about yourself like this?” I asked, letting my hands drop away from my chest. “Why do you talk about yourself as if you’re a despicable person? I don’t understand...”

I took a step towards him.

“Kunikida-san... what could you have possibly done to make you see yourself in such a way?”

Don’t tell me...

I swallowed uneasily, thinking of his skill with a gun.

Don’t tell me he’s killed before...?

Unfortunately, my thoughts must have shown on my face, because Kunikida took one look at me and backed a step away.

“ Kunikida- san ... Please...”

I took another step forward for Kunikida’s one back.

“No matter what you’ve seen... No matter what you’ve done... I still think you’re a good person. I know you are.”

“You don’t know that, Kusunoki-kun.”

“ Yes, I do!” I cried. “ Because I’ve seen it! You hel ped me rescue Mei- chan and the other kidnapped women. You took me to see Katai- san and shielded me when the apartment nearby suddenly exploded onto the street. You dropped everything in the middle of the day to drive to an abandoned dormitory just for the sake of saving one man’s life!”

I balled my hands into fists.

“Can’t you see?”

Can’t you see yourself the way I see you?

Tears were openly flowing down my cheeks.

“ You were always there for me. You’ve been helping me this whole time. You’ve saved me... O ver and over and over again! Kunikida- san ...! ”

Unclenching my hands, I slowly lifted them up towards the man in front of me.

“ How could I not fall in love with you?”

Following my words, silence fell throughout the park once more.

Kunikida did not answer. He just watched as I stood there before him, my tears doing the rest of the talking for me. Only when I finally lifted my hands back up to my face, to wipe them away, did Kunikida speak at last.

“Is this how you really feel? Kusunoki-kun?”

I stopped wiping my tears just long enough to let out a tiny sniffle.

“Yes.”

I nodded a little.

“Yes, that’s how I really feel.”

Kunikida’s mouth flattened into a thin line. He grew quiet once more and I could tell by the look in his gray-green eyes that he was clearly thinking about something. Then, he sighed.

“I see.”

He stared at his notebook for a moment, then gazed back up at me.

“I’m sorry, Kusunoki-kun.”

Eh...?

“But if that’s how you really feel about me...”

His expression wavered, his eyes searching mine.

“Then I can’t accept your feelings.”

Insert song: Blind to You

What...?

“ Here.”

He tossed my cell phone back to me .

“ I’m not going to ask you how you got those photos. Nor will I ask how long you’ve had them either. But I will ask that you delete them.”

“ W-wait,” I stammered. “ Kunikida- san— ”

“ Those pictures,” Kunikida cut me off, “are from a notebook I haven’t used in a long time— a notebook that I keep in my locker at work because it is full and can no longer be used for combat or for other purposes .”

I stiffened.

“ What?”

“In other words,” Kunikida said, “I wrote that list a long time ago. Long before you came to the Agency.”

He paused to look down at his notebook once more.

“ A lot of things have happened since then,” h e continued. “ Enough to make me question both the list and my values. I’ve been told before that the list was...”

His expression became strained.

“‘Too much...’ to use Sasaki -san’s words exactly. And after she passed— ”

I twitched.

That name again...

“—I couldn’t bring myself to look at these pages the same way again.”

He studied me.

“ I don’t think any of our coworkers are aware of the things I’ve just told you,” he said quietly. “ So I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d gotten some of your ideas from them or if they actually corroborated them . But I am disappointed...”

He sighed.

“I wish you could’ve just talked to me about things and tried to get to know me normally instead of doing—”

He gestured in the air.

“ This . All this sneaking around behind my back... It’s not like you, Kusunoki- kun .”

I flinched. Being physically struck would have hurt less.

“I actually had fun today, you know,” Kunikida mumbled . “And I get the feeling that if you hadn’t been worrying over this list and trying to make everything as perfect as possible, then maybe...”

He ran his hand through his hair one more time, his gaze lingering on the dented can of tea that had rolled to a stop by his foot.

He sighed again.

“ I just have one final question for you.”

“ What is it?” I asked quietly, my phone feeling heavy in my hands.

“ Tell me,” Kunikida whispered, dropping his hand at last.

His expression was pained.

“When you were planning to tell me about the photos?”

When...?

“I...” I started.

When would have been the right time to tell him? I’d have to come clean after we got together. It wouldn’t sit right with me, otherwise.

But when?

After our first date? No. That was too soon. He’d be hurt and betrayed, just like he was today. Enough that he would end things right there. But what if I waited a few years, after we’d really gotten comfortable with each other?

I bit my lip.

No, wait... What if things went further than that? What if we got married? Would it be best to tell him before we were engaged or wait until after the ceremony? Would he leave me at the alter or forgive me eventually? But what if I waited too long or decided never to tell him?

How long was I willing to keep the secret?

I pictured transferring the photos from device to device. Keeping printouts in a shoebox in the closet while I fed our first child in the kitchen. Taking the secret with me to the grave as an old woman, lying on the truth hidden just underneath my mattress.

But then I realized...

A single, heavy tear rolled down my cheek.

I’d rather kill myself than choose a lifetime of hiding the truth from the man I loved.

I hung my head.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But I would. I would have told you before things had gotten too far.”

Kunikida nodded.

“I think so, too,” he admitted, glancing down at the notebook in his hand.

He turned away from me and faced the path ahead, his gray-green eyes fixed upon the exit and his profile bathed in the dull orange glow of the setting sun.

“Thank you for telling me the truth, Kusunoki-kun,” he said.

He brought his hand up to his face to readjust his glasses.

“I appreciate that we were able to talk a little.”

His expression growing somber, he dropped his hand and shot a quiet look over his shoulder at me, not quite smiling but not quite frowning either.

“Let’s just keep what happened today between us,” he said softly, “due to the nature of our workplace relationship. I’m flattered and I appreciate your feelings for me, but...”

He looked away.

“I’m afraid I cannot return them.”

Stuffing one hand into his pocket, Kunikida turned away from the sunset and began walking away.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Kusunoki-kun. Don’t stay out too late.”

No...

I stood frozen behind him, staring after his tall, broad-shouldered figure as he headed for the gates in the distance.

It wasn’t supposed to go this way...!

I clutched at the phone in my grip.

I had to do something. I had to find some way to make this right! I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just let Kunikida go like this—!

And as my gaze fell upon his bare hand slowly trailing after him as he moved, I thought of a solution.

A stupid, desperate solution.

My Ability.

I ran after him.

“Kunikida-san, wait..!!”

I reached out my hand.

I knew there was no taking back what had just happened, no fixing anything that had happened in the past... but what about the future?

I gritted my teeth as Kunikida’s hand swung backwards towards mine.

If I could just see what lay ahead, find a path forward, through this mess, then perhaps one day, I could still make Kunikida mine...?

My fingertips were just millimeters away from the man’s bare skin.

I’d used my Ability to change the future before. So, why not now? Why not make the change that I desperately needed the most? Why not change my future and his for the happy ending I craved more than anything else?

Almost there...

I braced myself for the pull.

Just a little further...!

But just as his hand was almost in my grasp, Kunikida abruptly turned around and spotted me.

“KUSUNOKI!!”

I stopped reaching for him at once.

“What are you doing?” Kunikida whispered, his gray eyes wide with shock.

He jerked his hand away from mine with a sharp snap.

“I already gave you my answer,” he said, tucking both his hands away.

I felt my heart sink.

He knew...

“This needs to stop.”

He knew what I was doing—what I was about to do...

I felt my knees start to wobble and shake.

“Go home, Kusunoki-kun,” Kunikida sighed, his expression every bit as weary as his voice. “You’ve done enough.”

He turned back towards the road.

“You’ve done more than enough.”

And as he picked up his feet and walked away one final time, I felt my legs crumple underneath me. My cell phone hit the pavement right next to my knees.

“Kunikida-san...”

My vision blurred and swam and I could only watch helplessly through a curtain of tears as the tall, blonde detective walked further and further away from me and disappeared down the road.

It’s over...

“What have I done...?” I whispered as the tears continued to leak out of the corners of my eyes.

I really never was worthy of Kunikida Doppo to begin with.

And before I could stop it, a sudden sob burst from my mouth; I covered my face with my hands and cried into my open palms, my cell phone lying forgotten at my side.

And I’d just proved it...

How could I have done this?

How could I have tried to use my Ability on the man I loved?!

I could hear the trees rustling in the wind, the air around me in the park growing colder as the sun disappeared over the horizon at last. But I didn’t move from my spot. I just kept sitting there on my legs, sobbing as the day turned into night. Hating myself and hating everything I’d done.

Was I really willing to override his wishes—what he explicitly told me—in order to gain his affections?!

I sniffled loudly as the wind began to pick up.

“ I’m the worst. The worst...! ”

***(Stop music here)

And as the chill of the night breeze slowly began to fade at last, I finally wiped at my eyes and took my hands away from my face. I stared at the cell phone on the ground, which had fallen face-up once again, the image clearly visible on the scuffed-up screen that of a page from Kunikida’s notebook.

The kanji displayed showed Trait Number Seventeen: “Honesty.”

I picked it up.

“Honesty, huh?” I mumbled to myself.

I clicked a few buttons and hit “delete.” But another image of the notebook popped up instead.

I sighed heavily.

If I really did love Kunikida, then I should do what he asked: delete all of the images associated with his notebook and go home.

I clicked a few more buttons.

When all of the images of Kunikida’s notebook had been deleted at last, I closed the app and went to the maps. But just as I was about to look up directions to my apartment from here, my phone suddenly buzzed to life with an incoming call.

I blinked at the screen.

“Yosano-sensei?”

Confused, I hit “accept.”

“H-hello?”

“Kyou-chan!”

Yosano’s voice was cheery; I could hear people moving about in the background behind her. Was she still at the Agency? A restaurant maybe?

“So...?” she drawled, a hint of a tease sneaking into her voice. “How did it go? Hope I’m not interrupting anything right now...”

“No.”

I let my gaze drop to the patch of dirt on the front of my skirt.

“You’re not.”

“Huh? Kyou-chan...?”

Yosano sounded confused.

“Why do you sound so glum?”

I heard her breath hitch over the phone.

“Wait, don’t tell me—”

“I messed up,” I mumbled, still staring at the patch of dirt.

There was a small rip hidden in this part of the fabric, but it didn’t really matter. Even if the skirt had been completely whole and clean, because of the memories, I still wouldn’t be able to wear it again after today.

“I did something that I shouldn’t have,” I told her, picking at the rip on my skirt.

The fabric began to wrinkle and fray.

“ Something terrible. And now...”

I sucked in a tiny, shaky breath, unwilling to let myself cry in front of another member of the Agency today .

“Now there’s no way he’ll return my feelings any more.”

“Oh, Kyou- chan... ” Yosano breathed .

I thought I heard the clinking of a mug against a table.

“ And here I thought this would work out perfectly,” she mumbled, her tone at once both pensive and disappointed.

“It was one of Dazai’s better ideas after all, and we all know just what happens whenever he’s the one making the plans…”

**https://youtu.be/_4nESyjxjIM?t=194

I stopped breathing.

“What...?”

“ Aha...” Yosano’s chuckle was weak. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

I had.

She sighed.

“ Okay, I’ll just come right out with it,” she said. “Last week, when President Fukuzawa called both me and Dazai into his office to talk, I had no idea what he wanted. We rarely work together and even when there is an assignment that specifically requires both me and him, it’s usually something involving the entire Agency. Which is why I only understood when the President brought up Kunikida...”

I brought the phone closer to my ear as she continued speaking.

“You see, it is true that Kunikida hasn’t taken a break in some time. Furthermore, his last several assignments have really taken it out of him. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

I nodded, feeling my pulse quickening as I listened to Yosano’s words.

“ So of course, we realized the man needed a break . The question was, how to enforce it .”

Above me, the street lamps began to flicker on, one by one, as the sun finally finished dipping below the horizon.

“That’s when Dazai suggested that you tag along with him.”

I felt my grip tightening around my phone.

“ Did he... say why?”

“No, but I don’t think he had to. I thought it was a great idea, myself, so as soon as the meeting ended, I went to find you.”

“I see...”

I trailed off, my gaze lingering on the path ahead as the park steadily grew darker around me. A cold wind began to blow through the trees.

“ Ah, Kyou- chan? ” Yosano inquired. “Where exactly are you right now? If you’re not feeling so well, I can come get you and we can maybe talk a little at my place—”

“No, that’s okay, Yosano- sensei ,” I told her.

I slowly got to my feet.

“I... actually have somewhere I need to go. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay?”

“A-are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, turning towards the exit. “Don’t worry about me, sensei . I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, then.”

Yosano sounded doubtful.

“Good night, Kyou- chan .”

“Good night.”

I hung up the phone and stuffed it into my purse. Then, I walked down the path, exited the park and headed for the train station.

Dazai Osamu.

I stared at the tiny, glass name plate before me, the deep, black lettering still clearly visible beneath the reflected shine of the bright, full moon.

It had taken nearly two full hours for me to get here from the train station in Negishi—two hours in which I wandered through Yokohama in a fog, replaying my conversation with Yosano over and over again in my head...

It was Dazai who suggested I accompany Kunikida on his day off.

Dazai, who sent me those notebook pages back when he learned about my crush.

Dazai, who told me I already had everything I needed when I called him on the phone earlier today...

I kept staring at the name plate next to the door.

This was his fault.

I didn’t know how or why but it had to be.

How else could things have gone this badly, if not thanks to the hidden orchestrations of his half-bandaged hand?

A sudden burst of canned laughter came from a room several doors down and I winced. Even though I knew it was probably just the Tanizaki siblings watching a little early evening television, some small, irrational part of me still wondered if the laughter was directed at me.

I went back to staring at the door in front of me, the silence emanating from beyond that thin slab of wood washing over me like a thick, oppressive fog.

What was Dazai doing in there?

Reading comics? Playing video games?

I frowned.

No, it was far too quiet for him to be doing either of those things. Whenever he was goofing off at work, he’d almost always do it in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible—whatever was likely to gain him the most attention from whoever happened to be nearby. Of course, this usually ended in him getting yelled at or even body-slammed by Kunikida...

I felt my fingers tightening around my bag as I thought once more of the tall, blonde detective—the man who had just rejected me.

Clenching my jaw, I raised my fist to the door and knocked.

“Dazai-san?”

But no one answered.

I felt my eyebrows knitting together.

“Hey, Dazai-san?” I called a little louder, knocking more forcefully. “Are you in there?”

But as I looked to the window, I realized that the curtains were drawn and the lights were all off.

Maybe he wasn’t home right now...?

But no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than I heard something clattering around inside. Like the clunking of something heavy against a floor or table.

My mouth flattened into a line.

So he was home.

“I can hear you in there, you know,” I snapped, banging on the door. “Open the door, Dazai! I need to talk to—”

The door abruptly swung inwards.

“—you.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat.

“Ohh! Is that you, Kyou-chan?” a merry voice called from inside the darkened hallway.

A single, pale hand latched onto the metal door frame and slowly pulled its owner forward.

“What brings you to my humble abode in the middle of the night?”

“Dazai..!”

I brought my fingers to my lips, my eyes widening as I beheld the man now standing in the doorway.

“What...”

I took a step backwards, dropping my purse.

“What were you doing in there?” I whispered.

Dazai blinked at me, his normally sharp, inquisitive gaze looking oddly dulled and unfocused.

One side of his dark, tousled hair was sticking up the wrong way, like he’d been lying down moments before getting up and answering the door. His black vest was missing and his bolo tie was in complete disarray. Some of the bandages were coming loose from around his skinny neck and as I followed the swaths of tightly bound fabric down the front of his chest (just how far down did they go?), I saw that half the buttons of his thin, striped shirt were completely undone. And as I let my gaze travel further down his form, past his pale, wrinkled slacks, I spotted his tan trench coat, lying in a heap just beyond the open door.

That’s when I noticed the smell...

“Well...”

Dazai grinned and shifted a little so that he was leaning against the door frame. He crossed one bandaged arm over his chest and lifted the other into the air, a tiny porcelain sake cup held firmly in his left hand.

“What does it look like I was doing?” he asked, raising it to his lips.

“You were drinking...?” I stammered.

My eyes darted to the pitch-black rooms beyond his foyer.

“Alone? In the dark?”

“Bingo!” Dazai chirped, toasting me with the cup. “That’s correct! One point to you, Kyou-chan. But minus one point for answering in the form of a question.”

He drained the remaining liquid inside in one gulp.

“This isn’t a quiz show, you know.”

I had no words.

“So?” Dazai quipped, pausing to take a massive bottle of sake out from behind his front door and pouring himself another round. “Now that I’ve answered your question, it’s time for you to answer mine.”

He set the empty bottle down outside.

“What brings you here to my apartment in the middle of the night?” he asked, studying me over the rim of his tiny cup. “Are you here to join me in a celebratory drink? Or maybe...”

His grin widened into a lopsided smirk.

“You’ve changed your mind and you’re actually here to confess your feelings to me, instead?”

I froze.

“Just kidding,” Dazai chuckled, raising the cup to his lips once more. “If you were gonna do that, I might as well invite you in and ask you to commit double suicide with me—”

“You...”

Sensing my tone, Dazai paused mid-sip.

“Was that your game this whole time?” I whispered, my voice shaking.

I could feel my hands balling into fists as I spoke.

“Was that why you messed up my chances with Kunikida-san? Because you wanted that badly for me to join you in that double suicide?!”

Dazai frowned.

“Kyou-chan,” he said, lowering his cup slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you explain—”

“Oh, like you really don’t know?” I retorted, my eyes flashing. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You knew! You knew exactly what was going to happen when I finally confessed! That’s why you sent me those photographs of Kunikida-san’s notebook that day at the Agency. That’s why you insisted I go along with him on today’s assignment! That’s why—!”

My voice broke.

“That’s why you told me I ‘already had everything I needed!’ Because you knew! You knew everything that was going to happen from the very beginning and you—!”

Tears poured down my cheeks.

“You arranged for it—!”

I raised my open palm into the air and Dazai’s eyes grew wide.

“All because you wanted me to go along with your sick aspiration—!” I cried, bringing my hand back and preparing to swing.

How long had I dreamed about this moment?

How many times had I envisioned wiping that stupid smirk off of Dazai Osamu’s face? Cutting off those smart remarks, those aggravating taunts, all with one well-deserved slap across the cheek?

I must have pictured this moment at least half a dozen times while I was still sitting on the train, the dark, vengeful aura gathering around me like a miasma thick enough to ward off both children and adults alike.

But as I took a step forward, my open palm raised and held at the ready, I saw the look in his clear, brown eyes.

And as I watched, the tall, bandaged brunette tossed his empty sake cup backwards over his shoulder, tucked his hands into his pockets and waited.

Dazai...

I faltered.

He... he wasn’t going to dodge it?

My lower lip quivered.

Why not...?

Distantly, I thought back to the way Dazai had looked at me when he’d lied about Mrs. Yamazaki’s death. His eyes had been somber and dull with guilt back then, the bright amber tones of his warm brown eyes rapidly fading to dun as he looked at me and accepted my rage.

But tonight...

I felt my hand lowering by itself, all momentum lost.

Tonight, I was standing before a drunken man whose gaze betrayed no hint of fear or regret or shame.

No.

Tonight, I was looking at a Dazai Osamu who knew as well as I did that he had been wrongfully accused...

My hand fell limply at my side as I beheld his disheveled form, the bandages started to unravel from around his neck and left wrist.

...and yet he was willing to accept the punishment anyway.

“Dazai... san...”

I couldn’t do it.

I let out a dry sob.

I couldn’t hit a man who looked like he’d lost all will to live.

“DAZAI—!!”

Insert Song: "Saving Us"

And before I could think about what I was doing, I launched myself forward—

“Kyou—?!” Dazai squawked, his mouth falling open in shock. “Wait—!”

—and threw myself into his arms.

“Wait a minute—!!”

His words ended in a sharp gasp as I wrapped my arms around his neck, the forward momentum of my sudden rush knocking all the air out of his thin, wiry body. As we sailed through the open door of his darkened apartment and crashed onto the hardwood floor below, I thought I heard the sound of muffled cheering from the television down the hall.

“Dazai...!” I sobbed, thick, salty tears leaking out of my eyes and soaking into the thin, wrinkled fabric of his open dress shirt.

“Dazai...!!”

As I lay there on top of him, crying quietly into his warm, bandaged chest, I felt him slowly stir. It took me a moment to realize that the soft, sporadic tremors wracking his body was a wave of laughter.

I loosened my hold just enough to look at him.

“Dazai?”

“Ahh, how hard did I hit my head just now?” Dazai mused, gazing down at me with undisguised warmth. “Is this a dream? Or a hallucination?”

His eyes were a little unfocused.

“But what a wonderful hallucination this is!”

His cheeks grew flushed and his beautiful amber eyes seemed to glow even in the dim, yellow light of the lamps from the hall.

“My adorable little Kyou-chan... My sweet, Camellia blossom... All dressed up and coming over in the middle of the night—just to cling to me!”

His thin, bandaged arms slowly wrapped around my shoulders and waist.

“Lying on top of me, no less.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“If this is a dream, don’t wake me up...”

His arms tightened around me.

“Ah...”

He sighed again.

“Please, don’t wake me up...”

“Dazai...”

I sniffled a little and tightened my grip around his neck.

“He rejected me, Dazai... Kunikida-san, he—!”

A fresh wave of hot, bitter tears surged forth and I sucked in another small, shaky breath to try to calm myself.

“He told me that he couldn’t accept—that he couldn’t return my feelings for him! Why, Dazai, why?!” I whimpered, burying my face in his chest. “What did you do?!”

But even as I spoke the words, I knew that there was nothing I could accuse him of.

This wasn’t Dazai’s fault.

It never was.

It was mine.

I was the one who had overstepped my boundaries. I was the one who’d kept the photos and tried to use my Ability on the man I loved.

I was the one who was “No Longer Human.”

“Kyou-chan..."

I felt a hand, large, warm and comforting, descend on top of my head.

“I didn’t do anything, Kyou-chan,” Dazai murmured.

He began stroking my hair.

“It wouldn’t have been right. I may have dreamed of committing the perfect double suicide for years now, but I would never try to trick or force a woman into doing it with me. In fact...”

His hand traveled from my hair to my cheek.

“I think that would actually count as a murder-suicide. And I would certainly kill myself before I hurt you, Kyou-chan.”

Dazai smiled.

“You know that, right?”

“You—you’re drunk,” I hiccuped, smiling in spite of myself. “You’re crazy and you’re drunk.”

“And so I am, Kyou-chan,” Dazai breathed. “So I am. But, then again...”

He smirked.

“I’m not the one who came barging into a drunk man’s home in the middle of the night in order to commit assault.”

“It’s seven thirty,” I mumbled. “And this isn’t an assault.”

“You could make it one, if you really wanted,” Dazai teased, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hard pass.”

“Aww...”

Dazai laughed and without meaning to, I started laughing too. But as I lay there in his arms, I suddenly thought of my other mentor, the man whose arms I’d wanted so badly to be in that I’d deliberately chosen to lie to him. The breath I was about to take abruptly changed into a dry sob.

“Oh, Kyou-chan.”

And as Dazai’s bandaged arms slowly tightened around me once more, I buried my face into his cotton shirt and broke down at last, the sound of my sobs echoing around us in the dark, narrow hallway of Dazai’s apartment.

“There, there,” Dazai murmured, soothingly rubbing my back. “I’m here. Let it all out. There’s a good girl.”

“I loved him, Dazai,” I hiccuped, choking on the salty taste of my own tears. “I really, really did.”

“I know. I know...”

And as I lay there in the hallway, crying into the bandaged brunette’s shoulder, breathing in the sharp, sweet, heady scent of convenience store sake, I felt Dazai shift ever so slightly underneath me.

“Looks like you finally fell into my arms,” he chuckled. “This isn’t exactly what I was hoping for but, hey...”

He sighed.

“I’ll take it.”

I looked up to see him staring up at the sky, his deep brown eyes reflecting the light of the full, shining moon as it shone down on us from the open door.

“Dazai?”

Dazai smiled.

“Stay as long as you like, Kyou-chan,” he whispered, bringing one hand to my face and wiping away my tears.

His expression softened.

“Even when you’re crying, you’re still oh-so-cute... my sweet Camellia blossom.”

I nodded and as I lay in Dazai’s arms, sniffling and trembling as waves of emotion over took me, I could feel him rubbing my back.

“I’ll be here...”

[jess-the-vampire]

Quick question why did you like Tom in the beginning of the series, I understand liking the character as we get to know more starting season 3 and forward (considering that he wasn’t an important character and especially not at the beginning of the series) but he was and asshole.

Anonymous said:Also, why do you treat Tom as if he were a relevant character that needed tons of recognition .I have seen post showing you being a huge Tomstar fanboy/girl being angry with how the show treated Tom and even though is ok in liking a character, don’t you think you like him too much which clouds your judgment. Because Tom was treated fairly, maybe it would have been cool seen him happy with someone else, but he got his happy ending

You make it sound like people can’t enjoy characters who are jerks and act like jerks, those are pretty popular and fun characters for some people, after all, why do you think villians are so beloved despite being evil?

regardless, tom’s really not the worst at all in the first 2 seasons.

He’s not as great as he is now, but he’s not abusive and it really doesn’t take long to feel bad for and be attached to him. Literally by his second episode he’s already becoming more mature and trying to fix his mistakes.

Tom’s not one of these characters that has no moral compass, he feels awful about things all the time that are his fault, takes little pleasure in hurting people he cares about, and his entire motivation is to feel loved.

he doesn’t go about it the best of ways and he’s not perfect and he still did really dumb things, but he’s mostly harmless since the crew was at least careful enough not to make tom so bad he couldn’t be redeemed.

Tom never ended up truly doing any serious damage to anyone or anything, so it’s a lot easier to want him to be better then say…mina.

I just found tom fascinating because he felt a lot more like a character, i could understand why he felt the way he did, why he did what he tried to do, and why he was the way he was.

and without the show always needing to spell it out either.

he’s one of the few characters i think in this series where you can easily tell why he thinks and feels certain ways and when stuff happens in episodes with him, the impact actually CARRIES.

Marco’s talk in Mr Candle causes tom to stop bothering star, which causes tom to stop bothering her during CS because he learned he needed to respect her wishes, which leads to tom being mad and confused when star is like “No, bother me!, you’re being a total jerk for ignoring me now!”, which then leads to them warming up to each other, which then-

Tom’s a really fascinating case and one of the few times in this series where his emotions feel actually valid and natural (outside of the later half of s4b which was the only case that it didn’t)

I love seeing characters go through these kinds of growths, and i was really rooting for tom to earn true happiness from his character growth and have friends that love him because that feels like the true end for the arc of a friendless character who constantly feels like a failure and alone.

dude, i swear to god if you’re the guy who went on my other blog to insult me for not liking the end of tom’s arc and saying all my criticism was invalid, without actually providing any evidence….

my god, i really don’t wanna have to repeat myself but here we go

Tom’s not relevant? He’s been around since s1 and was on BOTH the posters for s3 and 4 (Over eclipsa, might i add?), tom is VERY relevant because of how prominent he was in the show and how much of a reoccurring character he was.

He wasn’t like janna who was mostly for comedic relief and didn’t really play a role in too many plots in the series, Tom was given so much screen time in most of the important episodes of the series.

This dude, had an actual ARC, an arc they dedicated episodes towards.

No, there is no happy end for tom, in what world is a happy end for a character to be constantly mistreated by their girlfriend and have them almost immediately leave them for their best friend, and then completely forget about them in another dimension….and then not even receive any actual sendoff in the finale at all?

Do you really think making tom feel inferior and unloved and him being OK with it is somehow fair at all? There’s nothing uncomfortable about that?

It’s just ok for our main lead to make him feel awful about himself? Not even apologize to him for kissing his best friend?  That’s fair to tom?

This ain’t even a tom only thing, most of the cast in the series didn’t feel like they got a proper goodbye, the only end that felt fitting for the most part, was ludo.

Most of everyone else’s ends were them kinda saying they’re doing fine after being gone for ages, and that’s about it.

I’m gonna tell you this again, it’s not enough for tom to just “Get better”, it actually needs to AMOUNT to something for TOM, he needed an end that made up for all the clear and obvious pain he’d been going through.

Zuko had this, his arc amounted to him changing roles, fighting his sister and becoming the next fire lord.

Characters like Lena from DT have this, where their shift causes them to overpower their fears and superiors and and find a real family that actually cares about her.

What did tom have?

Well, he’s friends with star and marco….but that was something he had a season ago before the last one…..so…what did he get in the finale because of his growth? Nothing, he loses his girlfriend and his best friends completely forgot about him.

You made tom suffer for so long, something the show makes very clear, and….he gets nothing, in fact they just made him suffer more and his anger management really didn’t end up amounting to anything or any relief at all at the end.

He just gets completely blown to the side by the end even though he’s supposibly one of star and marco’s close friends and he really ends up with nothing that fits all the pain he went through.

who in their right mind wanted to watch this happen to tom after last season? After conquer? where tom sacrifices himself for his best friends and it’s shown how much he cares about and loves them? 

After all that, star and marco just completely blow him off without even considering him? And that’s fair to tom? Are you serious?

By how these arcs normally work tom’s arc should’ve ended with him feeling confident in himself that he’s not inferior to marco, but that never happens.

by how it works he should realize his friends do value and care about him, but that doesn’t happen.

by how these arcs work tom should’ve found true happiness, but that doesn’t happen.

none of this is shown.

So it’s not satisfying.

This is like if ludo’s arc lacked dennis staying with him at the end or his family helping him rebuild his castle as he gets his band back together, he grew past his issues but….he’s unfinished….it feels like he didn’t get anything deserved to him.

star and marco were dang important to tom’s growth, they’re the most important relationships he has in the series, and he doesn’t even get an end with them, they both almost entirely forget about him.

and you cannot go around telling people their criticism is somehow invalid because they like a character as if none of that criticism is relevant at all because they like a character.

if anything, shouldn’t the fact someone was so knowledgeable about a character make the criticism more relevant?

i told you this before, you can’t just say everyone’s wrong “Because they are”, you say it’s satisfying for tom but don’t give a valid reason. it’s amounted to “ because it is” or “Tom’s not important enough to have a proper end”.

I’m sorry you don’t think tom was important but he was a heavily prominent character and a big favorite and this is such a horrible end to his story and it’s so unsatisfying to watch his end be to get shafted like this after everything he was put through.

people tend not to like watching characters who try so hard suffer time and time again and then end up basically alone and abandoned by their friends by the end.

[choupichoups]

Blue [2/2]

Prompt: soulmate au // “please tell me this is safe”(...) // “i'm cold”(...)

Lucas has seen colour ever since he can remember.

His memories before meeting Eliott pale in comparison to everything that comes after. But he’d never ever utter a word of that observation— god knows his soulmate doesn’t need anymore fodder for his gigantic ego. 

Besides, how can he have room to remember anything else when everyone just loves to remind him all about the incident— as if the idea of Lucas crying over his first kiss is a perpetually hilarious concept.

He’s perfected the blasé, I was five, he often uses to defend himself.

“Please tell me this is safe,” he says, stepping over a frozen tree root as he follows Eliott deeper into the woods. 

“This is safe.” 

Lucas watches him hop down an icy slope, long legs able to step over the deep grove without risk of falling and breaking his head open— which, yeah, no, Lucas is not going any further. “Please tell me this is safe, without lying.” 

“You’re really demanding, you know that?” Eliott looks up at him from where he’s waiting on lower ground. “You don’t trust me?”

“Uh, not really, no.” 

Eliott laughs, moving closer to where Lucas’s stood at the edge of the boulder. “Come on, I got you.” 

“What if you slip?”

“I won’t.”

“What if I slip?”

“I won’t let that happen.” 

Lucas sighs, bouncing in his spot as he weighs his options. “Eliott, just come back up here, please,” he says, voice soft as he peeks over the steep edge and loses all his nerve. “Let’s get back to the guys.” His mind plays out a scene akin to a horror movie, where one wrong step would send Eliott rolling off the edge of some hidden cliff, or Lucas would be standing under the wrong tree and an icicle would drop down to stab him to death. Call him a coward all you want but it’s really fucking dark out here and Lucas has never claimed to be brave. 

The playfulness on Eliott’s expression softens, and he reaches up, straining until he’s able to grab one of Lucas’ hands in a reassuring grip. “I swear nothing will happen, Lucas.” He runs his thumb over the back of Lucas’ hand, smiling up at him with those endearing wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “When have I ever let you fall?” 

At seven years of age, Lucas’ parents fight so much that they don’t even notice their only son sneaking out to escape the loud, loud yelling.

He’s climbed into the play structure at the park his mama used to always take him to— back when she’d been less stressed out, back when papa had still eaten dinner with the two of them every night.

Lucas curls himself into a ball, hiding tear streaked cheeks into the crook of his elbows. He’s not necessarily crying about the fight, he doesn’t understand what they’re talking about, it’s just that he’s really scared right now. 

He’s at the highest point of the play structure and he kind of wants to go down but every way back down to the ground looks too scary. He doesn’t want to fall and die. Mama used to always pick him up when he gets stuck like this, but she doesn’t even know he’s here. 

“Lucas?” 

He looks up at the sound of his name and sees Eliott down below, holding a basketball in his arms. 

“Hi,” Lucas says lamely, sniffing as he wipes at his tears.

Eliott gasps. “Why are you crying? Wait for me, I’ll come get you!”

“No!” Lucas stops him, afraid that both of them would get stuck if Eliott climbs up after him.

“What?” The basketball falls uselessly on the sandy ground. One of Eliott’s legs is already poised to step up the ladders. “Why not?”

“I can’t get down,” Lucas whispers, feeling more tears fill up his eyes. “I wanna go down!”

“Oh.” Eliott frowns, jumping easily onto the second level of the structure, contemplates a bit, and then climbs onto the third level. “Come, give me your hand.” 

Lucas shakes his head. Eliott looks too far away, Lucas will die. 

“Come on, Lulu. I got you.” Eliott’s reaching upwards, both hands open for Lucas to take. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

Lucas jumps off the rock and Eliott catches him easily.��

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Eliott grins, carefully setting Lucas down on a patch of snow, ensuring that no ice is hidden underneath the powdery surface. 

“Revisit the topic when it’s time for us to get back up and I can’t climb over the damn rock.”

Eliott ruffles his hair, chuckling. “I’ll take care of everything.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas scoffs, grumpily kicking small blocks of ice away from his path as they continue walking. “How much further?”

“Not much longer, your highness.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, ducking under the branch that Eliott pulls out of the way for him.

Eliott’s sneaking glances at him, eyes curved slightly in a hint of a smile so Lucas puts in the effort to pull different faces for each time his aggravating boyfriend looks back. It gets him happy little giggles from Eliott and Lucas has to bite his lip against a smile. He can’t have Eliott thinking that he’s enjoying this ridiculous trek in the woods now. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Eliott says, snapping a particularly stubborn branch off one of the trees when it wouldn’t bend. Lucas could have just dodged it himself but he’s not about to argue with Eliott’s adorable and sometimes (always) successful attempts at chivalry. “I know it’s late, I really wanted to take you out here earlier but the guys wouldn’t leave us alone.” 

“You could have told me, I would’ve kindly asked them to fuck off for you,” Lucas says, walking faster when he sees Eliott cupping his hands around his mouth to blow warm air into them. In a weird twist of events, Lucas’s the one who’d been smart enough to bring his gloves for the cabin trip and Eliott had somehow managed to pack three winter jackets but had jack all for toques and mittens. 

“I know.” Eliott’s laughing again, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them away from the biting cold. Lucas stumbles clumsily over the bumpy forest floor, almost falling into Eliott’s back and startling his boyfriend into turning around. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah, fine, I just—” Lucas gives up trying to explain himself, reaching out to wrap both of his gloved hands around one of Eliott’s freezing ones. “Should’ve borrowed Yann’s gloves before taking me here.” 

Eliott shrugs. “I was hoping you’d do this actually so… success, I guess.”

Lucas squints at him. That’s total bullshit. “Just admit you didn’t think of it and go.” 

Eliott raises his hands in surrender, laughter loud amongst the silent trees. Lucas grabs his hand back in his hold. “What do I do with my other hand then?”

A side eye is all he gets. “Suffer.” 

“Aw, come on.”

“I’ll switch to your other side later.”

“You’re so sweet sometimes that I forget you’re the biggest bitch I know.” 

“Oh yeah? This bitch is done warming your hands then.” Lucas lets go of him, sealing the deal by lagging a few steps behind.

“I’m kidding!” Eliott jogs backwards, making the dumb gesture somehow look cute. Lucas scowls at himself, disgusted at how in love he is with this goofball. “I’m kidding, please hold my hand, Lulu.” 

Lucas makes sure to heave his biggest sigh, “I guess if I have to.” 

But Eliott doesn’t resume with the banter, only dipping his head down to Lucas’ eye level and nudging his cheek with his nose like the overgrown puppy he is. “I mean it. Thank you for coming.”

Lucas looks up at him when Eliott pulls away, hands clenching tighter around Eliott’s fingers— now toasty warm. 

“You know I’ll follow you everywhere, dumbass.”

Lucas is fourteen when Eliott calls him at half past two in the morning, words indecipherable in between his heaving sobs. It’s a good thing they live close by, because nothing would have stopped Lucas from pulling his shoes on and running right over. 

They’re in Eliott’s bed the morning after, sitting cross legged from each other as Eliott fiddles with the many tubs of paint in his collection. Lucas watches him silently, offering a small nod when Eliott swears under his breath and leaves the room, promising he’d be right back.

They still haven’t talked about what happened the night before. 

Lucas flops back down on the bed, snuggling closer into the large hoodie Eliott’s lent him after his shower— his soulmate hadn’t even tried to look for something that would fit Lucas better. 

“This should be good enough,” Eliott says as he returns, tone slightly giddy, and when Lucas looks up he catches the tiny smile gracing Eliott’s features. Lucas sighs, relief spreading over his chest like a soothing balm— it’s definitely progress from how Eliott had been acting last night. 

“What’s that for?” Straightening up, Lucas nods towards the small bottle of nail polish in Eliott’s grip. 

“Remember when I asked for your help last month?”

“For your project?” 

“Yeah!” Eliott jumps back into bed, pulling Lucas closer by his legs. Lucas would have kicked him in the face for it if the memory of Eliott’s tears still wasn’t so fresh in his mind. “I need your hands for the cover photo.”

“So you’re using me as a free hand model.”

“I’ll buy you ice cream after.” Eliott looks up, shooting him a quick wink. 

Great. So they’re still not talking about it. 

Eliott folds the sleeves of the hoodie twice over to get the material away from Lucas’ hands. They work in comfortable silence— Eliott trying his hardest to make the blue nail polish look smooth and even while Lucas opts to staring at him unashamedly. 

He’s kind of missed Eliott, actually. 

Eliott has started high school already while Lucas’s still trudging along in middle school, pretending his handsome dork of a shadow isn’t a gaping absence in his everyday life. It’s not like they’ve grown apart; they see each other out of school sometimes (when Eliott’s not drowning in homework) and they text each other a lot of times. 

Still, it’s different from how they’ve always been inseparable during their younger years. 

“I went to the doctor yesterday.” 

Lucas perks up, nodding as Eliott moves on to painting his other hand. But when the other boy doesn’t continue, Lucas decides to give him a verbal cue. “Okay.” 

Eliott blinks, like he’s just remembering that he’d said something in the first place. “Something weird happened last week.”

Lucas doesn’t quite get how it relates to the doctor thing but he lets it be. “Okay.”

“I was invincible, Lucas,” Eliott explains vaguely and despite the positive words he’s using, his tone implies otherwise. Which makes sense, since Lucas vividly remembers Mrs. Demaury telling Lucas that Eliott hadn’t been feeling well at all the past week. “And then I wasn’t.” 

“Okay.” The urge to hold Eliott’s hands in his is almost overwhelming but his nails haven’t dried yet and he really doesn’t want to ruin Eliott’s hard work. 

“It’s like… my mind was going to so many places.” Eliott replaces the cap on the nail polish, letting it roll on the sheets between them as he talks. “But my body can’t move.” There’s a slight tremor in Eliott’s hands and Lucas decides fuck it, to hell with the goddamn nail polish. He reaches out and intertwines their fingers together, squeezing the hands in his when he feels Eliott hold onto him a little harder.  

“Okay.”

“I didn’t— I was feeling everything and nothing all at once and I just wanted to sleep.” Eliott closes his eyes, his grip on Lucas bordering on painful but the latter doesn’t stray from it. “But I wasn’t fucking sleeping.” He lifts their joined hands up to his forehead, head ducked down as if in prayer. “This,” Eliott continues, knocking his head lightly over their hands. “This was elsewhere and I couldn’t fucking control it.” 

Lucas pulls their hands towards him, brings them to his lips. He places the lightest of kisses over Eliott’s knuckles, willing for him to look up. “Okay.” 

“I’m bipolar, Lucas,” Eliott whispers, words shivering out of his lips. “It’s not okay.”

There’s a pinprick behind his eyes, tears stubbornly wanting to make their appearance despite Lucas’ best efforts. Still, he clenches his teeth against them. “Maybe. But it doesn’t change a thing.”

“It changes everything.”

The fact that Eliott uses the same words that Lucas’ father had used a couple of years ago, against his mama, has him losing the battle. The tears he’d been holding back fall from his eyes and his heart lurches painfully when Eliott’s immediate reaction is to wipe at them gently with his thumb. 

“No,” he says, just as soft. “It doesn’t, not for me. Not for us.” Lucas can be anything in his life— he’s young and brash and has his whole life ahead of him. He will not be his father. “I’ll be right here, as always.”

“It’s going to be hard.”

“Things don’t stay easy forever anyway.” 

“You weren’t there last week, it was so bad.”

“I’ll learn.”

“But—”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” He says, brows raising in accusation. It gets a small huff of laughter from Eliott and Lucas smiles at the sound. “Cause give it up, I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if I go where you can’t follow?”

“Impossible.” He doesn’t ever want to think about what that means. “Where you go, I go.” 

“Fuck,” Eliott breathes out, shaking his head. “Fuck fifteen.”

Lucas’s only confused for a second before Eliott leans over and captures his lips in a kiss. He’s swear to god not expecting it and certainly not when Eliott tumbles them back into the sheets, tongue hot and insistent against his closed lips. Not knowing what else to do, he allows Eliott in and immediately after can’t decide whether it’s the best or worst decision of his life. Either way, the very telling moan that claws its way out of his throat is enough to have him mortified. 

You see, Lucas has never had anyone but Eliott and his experience in this area is absolute rock bottom as Eliott hasn’t actually kissed him on the lips ever since that time when he was five. And he’d cried back then. 

He has half a mind to demand where Eliott learned to kiss like this because he’s pretty sure his soulmate hasn’t had anyone but Lucas either or he most certainly will be kicking him where it hurts. But all thoughts of demanding anything flies out the window when Eliott’s hands make their way under his borrowed hoodie and, well, just no, Lucas has to mentally prepare for this beforehand please and thank you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasps out, finally finding the strength to turn away and use his jelly limbs to push Eliott off. 

“You okay?” Eliott asks, all worried like he hadn’t just attempted to murder Lucas with his tongue. 

“Yeah,” he says quickly, moving so that he’s face down on the bed with a hand over his pounding chest. Jesus. “Just, wait, I think I’m having a heart attack.” 

Eliott falls into the pillows laughing; unencumbered, bellowing, genuine— happy.

He wipes his half dried nails over the sheets in revenge.

“Lucas!” 

“Why is it so fucking cold?” Lucas mumbles mostly to himself. Blowing out a breath upwards and seeing the cloud of white in its wake irrationally pisses him off even more.

“I told you to bring a jacket,” Eliott says, nonchalant as he ambles through, all warm in his shirt and hoodie and two fucking jackets. 

“I did,” Lucas retorts. “I just didn’t know we were going to fucking Antartica, Eliott.”

His boyfriend outright laughs at his discomfort. Lucas pouts, carefully stepping around slippery patches of ice as he shivers in misery. If Eliott has to take him to the hospital for hypothermia after this, he’ll see who’s laughing then. 

Everything around him goes pitch black all of a sudden and Lucas stops, breath halting its steady rhythm as he looks up. His eyes haven’t adjusted yet so he can’t even see Eliott’s outline in the dark.

“Shit.” He hears Eliott from somewhere ahead of him and Lucas tries to walk over but he bumps into a tree two steps into it, feet sinking into a fragile glass of ice. The crunching sound it makes under his feet is jarring. “Lucas? Stay where you are, okay? Don’t move.” 

And yeah that’s some smart thinking right there. He’s glad at least one of them still has common sense. 

Eliott’s phone battery has probably ran out. Lucas’ phone is back at the cabin, charging, so he can’t even do anything to help fix this. His brain starts coming up with horror movie scenarios again and Lucas thumps his head against the tree, turning around to lean his back against it as he waits for Eliott. 

“Baby?” He hears Eliott’s voice again, still from the same direction as earlier.

“Right here,” he answers, thoughts of hypothermia taking a backseat for now. 

There’s a light click from somewhere on his left and Lucas can breathe properly again. The path in front of him is lit with the flashlight in Eliott’s hand and Lucas wastes no time running towards him. 

Eliott doesn’t make fun of him when Lucas jumps into his arms, only bending down a little so that Lucas doesn’t strain so much to reach him. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” Eliott murmurs into his hair. “I forgot my phone has shit battery life.”

Lucas laughs at that. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t scared.” Lucas doesn’t need to see Eliott’s thumb moving over the flashlight to know what his jackass soulmate is about to do. “But I will murder you myself if you shut that light off right now and no one will find your body out here.”

He feels Eliott’s laughter from over his head but Eliott obediently keeps the light on. Thank fucking god. 

Now that the crisis is over, Lucas starts to shiver from the cold again and he’s beginning to very seriously think that he’s actually going to die that same night when his body is wrapped in immediate warmth. His head snaps up, and Eliott smiles down at him, outer jacket now placed over Lucas’ shoulders instead. 

“You’ll be cold,” Lucas protests weakly, not really wanting to lose the blessed warmth but also not wanting Eliott to feel as cold as he’d been earlier. “Take it back.”

“Do you really think I need two jackets to stay warm?”

“Hm?” Lucas still hasn’t moved from his position against Eliott’s chest, arms wrapped securely around the latter’s waist so he doesn’t move away. 

“I knew you’d be too lazy to dress properly so I brought this for you,” he says, rubbing circles around Lucas’ back over the jacket.

“Oh.”

“What? You doubted me?” Eliott pulls back, lifting Lucas’ face by the chin. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’ll take care of you before you drill it into that head of yours?” 

Lucas presses his lips together but his efforts hold no candle over the enormous smile that tugs them apart. 

At fifteen, Lucas quickly gets exhausted by the attention he’s receiving in high school. 

He knows the bulk of the interest comes from being one half of a soulmate duo. He doesn’t exactly shout it out to the rooftops but the rumour mill is brutal around high school. Everybody somehow knows who’s got the syndrome or not. It doesn’t even help him that Eliott makes it no secret just who exactly Lucas’ other half is. Ironically enough, it only makes things worse.

“I’m having a party this Friday,” Robert, or whatever his name is, leans against the locker beside Lucas’, unperturbed even when Lucas treats his presence like air. “If you and your friends wanna come.” 

What Lucas wants is for what’s his face to leave him the fuck alone. “No.”

“You answered that too quickly, I think you might wanna think about it for a bit longer.” 

Lucas slams his locker shut, spares the nuisance some eye contact for a few seconds longer than usual, and reconfirms his answer. “No.” 

He hears Yann and the others coming up behind him and breathes out a sigh. Finally, some rescue— or so he thought. 

“Hey man!” Arthur greets the guy behind Lucas while Basile looks starstruck. And, okay, Lucas understands the fascination; Robert is in his final year and is in one of the more popular cliques in school. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s fucking annoying, though. 

Lucas looks at Yann with an expression he hopes is meaningful enough to get him to bail Lucas out. 

But Yann doesn’t get it. Lucas’s seriously going to demote him from best friend status now. 

“Fine,” Robert sighs, straightening up from the locker to loom infuriatingly close behind Lucas’ back. “I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.” 

“Change your mind about what?” Basile snaps out of his daze just in time to fuel the fire Lucas’s desperately trying to douse. 

“Nothin—”

“Lucas says you guys wouldn’t be interested in a party this Friday?” 

Fuck you, Robert. 

“What?!” Basile exclaims, looking at Lucas all offended. The latter shrugs, remaining uninterested. Arthur gives him a subtle tap on the shoulder, widening his eyes in reprimand when Lucas looks over and they really need to calm down, it’s just a stupid party. There’s one practically every week. 

“No, no.” Arthur takes over, pushing Lucas aside which means he now has to turn around and see Robert’s triumphant smirk. “He cracked his head on a wall this morning, we’ll definitely be there.” 

“Cool. I’ll see you then.” And with that, Robert walks off— backwards. It doesn’t look half as attractive as when Eliott does it. Lucas barely resists flashing him the middle finger. 

“Lucas!” Arthur turns to him, scandalized. “How could you turn that down?” 

“It’s just a party.”

“It’s not just a party. That was Roden Caron inviting you, himself, just now. Are you crazy?”

“Whatever, you guys can go if you want. I’m staying home.”

“Pretty sure he won’t let us in without you,” Basile pipes up, eyes round and pleading. 

Lucas turns to Yann, who’s been quiet for the entire conversation, only to see his best friend’s head tilted down, tapping aimlessly at his phone. He knows Yann and Emma are having a rough time with their relationship right now and guilt churns in Lucas’ stomach. He hasn’t exactly been acting the role of the best friend either, too preoccupied with the shift in his and Eliott’s relationship for the past year. 

But maybe that dickhead Roden’s given him an opportunity to redeem himself a little. 

“Yann,” Lucas calls out, Yann looking up at them only after he’s been directly addressed. “You up for some distraction on Friday?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Come on, man.” Basile knocks him encouragingly on the shoulder. “There’ll be unlimited drinks for free! And hot girls!”

“Yeah! And I heard his parties are bomb,” Arthur pitches in, almost vibrating at the prospect of attending. 

Yann meets Lucas’ eyes. “Eliott’s gonna be okay with this?”

“Uh.” Eliott probably wouldn’t want to go to a party hosted by some guy with a vendetta against him but Lucas can try. “I’ll ask if he wants to come.”

“No, no, no.” Basile takes Lucas’ phone away before he could do anything. “We are going to this party as single men.”

“We’re not single, though,” Yann retorts.

Basile pauses. “Okay, not single single but no significant others for the night.”

“Why?” Lucas doesn’t feel all that comfortable going without Eliott, for obvious reasons. 

“When was the last time we all hung out together with just us?” Basile spreads his hands out quite dramatically, looking around to meet eyes with each one of them. Lucas concurs he doesn’t have a good answer to that. “Exactly.”

They all mumble disgruntled agreements, even Arthur who isn’t even in a serious relationship. 

Lucas pockets his phone without asking Eliott to come with him. It’ll probably be fine anyway. 

Except, of course, it’s not. 

Yann’s shitfaced drunk on the couch two hours into arriving and Lucas, having stuck to him like a leech in order to prevent anything too disastrous from happening, is on his way to getting there as well. He listens to Yann’s moaning and groaning about not meaning to lie to Emma all the time but things are just so complicated. 

Lucas sloppily pats him on the back, taking another swig at his beer until he realizes that the bottle is empty. 

He should get more. 

Getting up from the couch is a hassle— his legs feel too weak to support the rest of his body and his head seems to have cotton for brains.

He should stop drinking now.

Digging around his pockets, he walks towards the kitchen in hopes of finding a little peace and quiet— and two water bottles for him and Yann as well. He’s glad his cotton brains are at least half functional. 

His hands finally reach into the correct pocket for his phone and he gleefully presses Eliott’s speed dial, excited to finally talk to his boyfriend after a long day without him. Eliott knows he’s at Roden’s party, having mentioned it offhandedly after Eliott complained about having to go to a classmate’s house, on a Friday night, to finish a group assignment. 

Just as predicted, Eliott’s face soured at the mention of Roden but he shrugs it off, kissing Lucas goodbye with a teasing, “Don’t be too bored without me.” 

And Lucas tried, really, but parties are just way too dull without his boyfriend around. 

“Hey.” Eliott picks up from the other line, sounding sweet and sleepy. 

Lucas realizes he doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m bored, Eliott.” 

There’s a muffled chuckle and then, “I think it’s time for you to leave that lame party.” 

“But the guys are still here?” He speaks slowly, trying not to slur his words. Eliott would get worried if he catches wind of how much Lucas has already drank. 

“With you right now?”

Lucas looks around and spots Arthur and Basile engaged in a giant drinking game that looks a hair’s width away from being too much. 

“No.” 

“Then you can leave whenever you want.” 

“Yeah… yeah,” he answers absently, leaning against the kitchen counter as he stares at the cupboards. Which one would hold the cups? He wants cold water from the fridge, not those stupid water bottles scattered around on the floor. 

"Lucas?” There’s a lot of noise from Eliott’s line but Lucas can’t figure out what he’s doing at this time of the night. Or early morning. Whatever. “Hey, baby, are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “I think…” Drunk Lucas is too much of a disaster to be hanging around in public so he should probably go. “I’m—”

“Finally caught you.” There’s another voice nearby but Lucas understands that it’s not coming from his phone. He turns around, cursing in his head at the sight of Roden. He’s been doing so well avoiding the guy all night. 

Lucas holds the phone tighter. “I’m just leaving,” he mumbles, trying to push past him to get out of the kitchen. Except Roden holds out an arm to block his path and it’s enough to confuse Lucas’ drunken state into staying put. 

Eliott’s saying something from the other line but Roden picks the phone out of Lucas’ slack hold and ends the call. “You don’t have to.”

“I do.” Lucas attempts to leave again, only to realize that he still needs his phone back. He makes a grab for it but Roden pulls it out of reach. “Give it.” 

“Get one more drink with me and I’ll let you go.” Roden gestures towards the two bottles of beer on the kitchen island. 

Lucas shakes his head, he’s not drunk enough to be too stupid. “No, I wanna leave.”

“Come on, I just wanna talk.” Roden’s arms fall by his sides as he shrugs and Lucas’ eyes follow the movement.

“I don’t wanna talk.” Lucas snatches his phone back, pocketing it real quick. With that done, he tries for another escape but this time Roden’s hands grab him by the wrists, pressing him against the wall and this is getting really fucking frustrating. 

“Fine, no talking. Let’s do something else then.”

Lucas twists around, trying to free himself enough to punch this imbecile in the balls. “Are you deaf or what?” He wants to yell but even that small attempt to raise his volume causes him a bout of dizziness. Shit, this would be the worst time to pass out. “I said I wanna go home. Get off me.”

“Come on, stop pretending it’s not boring, staying with just one person your whole life.” 

He stops struggling for a second only to give Roden an incredulous look. Is this guy serious? He’s really going to go fake deep about soulmates with Lucas over here? 

“None of your business.”

“I’m just trying to do you a favour, see?” Roden leans down, breathing over his neck. Lucas’ pulse spikes with the first strike of fear. “Maybe after this, you’ll even forget all about Demaury.” 

The mention of Eliott’s name, in that mocking tone that Lucas is unfortunately too familiar with, brings out such sheer anger in him that Lucas manages to rip his hands away from Roden’s grip, punch him twice in his dumb, entitled face, and kick him in between the legs for good measure. He’s light headed by the time he’s done and Roden looks more furious than hurt, which doesn’t bode all that well for him, so Lucas makes a run for it. 

As best as he can anyway. His knees are this close to buckling but Lucas holds onto that thread of adrenaline, hoping he’s going the correct way to the front doors.

When he gets out, the wind is comfortingly cold against his skin but he stutters in his steps— he can’t go home like this. His mom would worry and get even more stressed out. Raking shaky hands through his hair, he’s just about to stagger down the porch steps to figure things out on his walk home when Eliott, wide eyed and windswept, comes running into sight. 

“Eliott?” Lucas sure hopes he’s not hallucinating right now or he’d be really worried for himself.

“Come here.” Eliott walks up to him and Lucas barely gets off the top step before Eliott’s arms are around him, embrace so tight it pulls him off the ground. “What the fuck was that, Lucas?”

“Huh?”

“The fucking phone call,” Eliott says carding one hand through Lucas’ messy hair. “I heard his voice and it just ended and—”

“I’m fine.” Lucas tries not to think about it or he might not be fine. “How did you get here?” 

“I ran.”

“Fuck.” Lucas buries his face in Eliott’s neck. “Stop being so sweet, I’m gonna puke.”

“Pretty sure you’re gonna puke anyway.”

“Shut up.” 

Eliott sets him down carefully, but Lucas can’t bring himself to walk another step. He’s run out of adrenaline since Eliott’s arrival and he’s reminded of how truly useless his body becomes when inebriated. 

“Here.” Eliott stoops down in front of him, taking Lucas’ hands to wrap around his neck from behind. “Get on my back.”

“I’m sorry.” Lucas slumps against Eliott’s back, holding on when Eliott straightens back up. “You must be tired.”

“Never.” 

Lucas cuddles closer, pressing his nose into Eliott’s hair. “Thank you.” 

“I told you, Lulu.” Eliott turns his head and steals a little kiss. “I’ll be here to take care of you. Always.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re never going to a party without me again.”

“I know.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill Roden.”

Lucas snorts, “Don’t bother.”

“No, he’s gonna die on Monday.”

“Eliott.”

“You said we were almost there like, two hours ago,” Lucas says, mostly to be difficult. He’s starting to not mind the long walk in the deep, dark woods with Eliott. Except for the fact that, you know, they could die any minute now. But that’s no big deal. 

“It’s been half an hour,” Eliott retorts with a scoff. “And we really are here this time. Careful, watch your steps.” He leads them up a soft mountain of snow and Lucas feels the wooden stairs buried deep under. It gets steadily brighter around them the higher they get, with the trees no longer shielding them from the night sky. 

And wow, okay, maybe Eliott’s onto something over here. 

High up as they are, Lucas sees nothing but an expanse of dark skies speckled with stars that are alive. Is that…?

“Meteor shower.” Eliott leans his chin on Lucas’ shoulder, watching his reaction closely. “It started about half an hour ago. I was worried we’d miss it.” 

Lucas stands there with his mouth open, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“How did you…” Lucas turns, laughing incredulously up at Eliott. “Did you make a deal with the devil? How do you do these things?” His eyes slide back up where the stars continue their mesmerizing dance in the dark. “Fuck.” He feels Eliott’s gaze still on him so Lucas nudges him with an elbow. “Why aren’t you watching it?”

“I’ve got something much better.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes, thankful that the flashlight’s shut off, making it way too dark to catch the warmth on his cheeks. “Stop.” 

Eliott grins. “I’ve been so obsessed with your eyes from the moment I saw them.”

“Obsessed?” Lucas repeats, laughing. “How romantic.”

“Would you turn down the attitude? I’m trying to make a speech here.” Eliott’s bouncing on his feet now— is he getting cold?

“Sorry, go on,” Lucas says, gesturing with a hand for Eliott to continue. 

“I’m starting over.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Jesus, I’ve always thought you were so fucking rude, you know.”

“You’re really nailing the romance up in here, dude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Or what?” Lucas’ eyes are still stuck on the sky. 

“Or I’ll marry you,” Eliott whispers and Lucas feels his brain combust.

What?

What?

He hasn’t moved, still facing the stars, but his eyes are unseeing. 

It isn’t like Eliott hasn’t talked about marriage before, but that was years ago, when they were children. And Lucas had doubted how serious he’d been about it. 

Eliott’s graduated from college last year and he’s having the time of his life as an intern in the film industry. He’s got his own apartment where Lucas had moved in ages ago— it had been a chill, unofficial thing, really, Lucas had gone over once upon a time and just didn’t go back home.

Lucas is only nineteen, he’s still got quite a bit to go before figuring out where he wants to be after graduation. 

He doesn’t know if getting married any time soon is a good idea at all. 

“No,” he says, zoning back in, blinking up at the sky. 

“… No?”

“No.” He turns, gazing up at Eliott’s falling expression. Despite the loss of spark in them, the skies above the two of them are no match against the galaxies in Eliott’s blue, blue eyes. “No, I won’t shut up.” 

To hell with good ideas anyway. 

The smile that blooms on Eliott’s face is worth the, probably, very fucking stupid decision Lucas has just made. Faced with the intensity of the joy radiating from his soulmate, Lucas can’t comprehend how he’s ever to decline the question. 

Eliott drops down on one knee.

“Oh no,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “Get up, get up, don’t do this.” 

But of course Eliott doesn’t listen. He soaks up Lucas’ panic and seems to gain confidence from it, the utter asshole. “Lucas Lallemant…”

Lucas takes the hood of his jacket and folds it over his eyes. 

Eliott laughs, “Baby, it doesn’t have to be now, or the year after, or any time soon. I don’t care when it is. But I’ll really appreciate it if you say yes to marrying me at some point before we die.” 

Lucas peeks down at him. “Is that your big speech?”

“No, I forgot my original speech when you said no earlier,” Eliott admits, pulling Lucas’ hands away from his face to make sure that he sees clearly what’s hidden inside Eliott’s palm. 

Lucas watches Eliott’s fingers unfold and he knows there’s got to be some kind of ring in there but what he sees makes him gasp out a resounding, “No!” And he spins around, hands over his head. He can’t believe this. “No! You’re so cheesy, what the fuck?” He doesn’t know what to do with himself, it feels like his limbs are trying to shiver out of his body from the inside out. 

Eliott isn’t even on his knees anymore, he’s just sitting on the snow powdered ground, laughing it up. “You don’t like it?” He barely gets the words out before dissolving into more high pitched laughter. Lucas doesn’t understand why he loves this idiot. 

“How… it was so ugly,” he mumbles, stepping closer to look at the ring again. It’s not ugly anymore, to be honest. The metal is now slimmer, more delicate than crude, its polished surface glimmering every time it catches onto a source of light. The haphazard knot that connects the band together has been trimmed so that it looks more like intertwining branches rather than a badly screwed keychain. 

“Can I?” Eliott stands, hands hovering close to Lucas’. 

Lucas nods, fascinated as it slips perfectly over his finger. 

It’s actually really stupidly beautiful.

“Fuck.”

“Are you crying?”

“Shut up.”

He’s five when mama tells him that Eliott is going to be a big part of his life. 

So on the Monday after everything suddenly looked weird and bright, Lucas seeks Eliott out so he can watch him make more ugly paintings. 

He’s letting Eliott talk him through what’s going on in his newest project when something falls out of Eliott’s sweater pocket. Lucas picks it up, frowning when a sharp end pokes at his finger. 

“What’s this?” He lifts it up to Eliott’s face and the boy goes cross eyed a little.

“Oh!” Carefully, he takes it off Lucas’ hold and places it on the desk. “It’s your ring.” 

Lucas doesn’t get it. “Why would I have a ring?”

“For when I get you to marry me,” Eliott declares, looking at it proudly. “Mama makes things with metals, she said I can have this!” 

“It’s big.” 

“Of course, silly. You have to grow up before you marry me.” 

Lucas stares at the ring some more. The whole thing is crooked and he’s pretty sure the knots will stab someone’s eyes out if they’re not careful. It’s so ugly, he doesn’t like it. But Eliott seems very happy so Lucas keeps those thoughts to himself. “Is it… abstract?” 

Eliott blinks, looking like he doesn’t know what to say. That’s okay, Lucas asks a lot of questions even adults don’t know the answer to. 

“Huh,” Eliott says, putting a finger to his chin like he’s thinking hard about it. 

The teacher interrupts them before Eliott can give him a proper answer, letting Eliott know that his parents are there to pick him up. 

Lucas smiles when Eliott pouts— it’s really cute. It reminds him of when his neighbour’s little baby frowns. Super adorable. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lulu,” Eliott sighs, getting up to pack up his backpack. “You can have this one too.” He gives Lucas the new ugly painting; it looks like the one Lucas already has but Eliott’s used different colours this time— all shades of blue. 

“Bye bye.” Lucas waves him goodbye.

“Wait!” Eliott runs back to their table and drops a kiss on his forehead. 

Lucas blinks up at him. “Why?” 

“Because I love you but papa says I can’t kiss you again until you’re fifteen!” Eliott prattles out, already jogging back towards the door as he waves his hands about. “Bye, Lulu!” 

Lucas leans against the table, chin resting against his folded arms as he smiles at the new painting Eliott’s made for him. 

He’s beginning to like abstract. 

[fantasyandromancelover]

The Tale of Tales Chapter 21

Juvia didn't have much luck finding any apples however she did find a briar patch full of black berries. After filling her basket up with as many as she could carry she started to make her way home but was startled by the sound of a twig snapping. She froze and looked around to see if anyone was there. No one seemed to be around except the birds so she figured that it was just her imagination so she tried to head home again only to hear footsteps.

"Is somebody there?"

There was no answer and the footsteps seemed to be getting closer. Getting scared she picked up a real hard and thick tree branch that had fallen on to the ground and positioned it for attack mode. She then quietly and carefully crept to where the source of the footsteps was coming from. It was coming from behind a big tree and when the source came around she let out a scream only to hear another scream and find herself face to face with a woman in a red shawl holding a loaded crossbow.

"Oh thank God you're just a maiden." The woman in the red shawl said when they both stopped screaming. "I thought you were a wolf."

"I thought that you were a bandit." Juvia said dropping the branch in her hand.

"Sorry about the whole sneaking around with the crossbow it's just that I didn't think people ever came around this part of the forest."

"It's alright. If you don't mind me asking what are you doing sneaking around with a crossbow?"

"Well I thought that there was a wolf living around this area and I had come to kill it."

"You're mistaken wolves never come around here or at least that's what I was told."

"Hmmm...I've never seen you before. Who are you?"

"My name is Juvia and you are?"

"Erza. Do you live in the Magnolia village?"

"No. I live in a cottage just up the way from here with my friends. To be honest I've never even been to the Magnolia village."

"Then how do you get food?"

"Well we fish and my friends hunt and I gather nuts, berries, herbs, and roots. We have fresh water and everything else we need."

"What about dairy or bread?"

"I'm afraid the forest doesn't provide those things."

"Why don't you go to the village and buy some of the things you can't find in the forest? Like milk or bread or eggs?"

"Oh I would but I don't know where the village is and I have no money."

"Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"To the Magnolia village to buy you some stuff."

"But I don't have any money."

"I'll pay for it."

"Oh no I could never ask you to do that."

"Well then don't. I'll just do it to you as a favor."

"Alright but only if you allow me repay you for it one day."

"It's a deal."

Erza and Juvia went to the Magnolia village where Erza bought her some milk, bread, butter, flour, sugar, honey, and eggs. Juvia protested once or twice to Erza that milk and bread would be enough but Erza was a giving person who was always ready to help someone in need. After buying them all the two young women decided to stop, eat some lunch, and talk. Erza told her about her grandmother and her friend Jellal and her determination to find the alpha. Juvia couldn't help but be fascinated by how exciting Erza's life was.

After lunch the two women started back home but along the way Juvia couldn't help but notice that a lot of people the villagers we're living in poverty, starving and freezing while wearing dirty and tattered clothing. Their skin was pale from the cold and their bodies were skinny from lack of food.

"Why do these people live this way?" Juvia asked Erza.

"Oh it's the fault of the queen of Fiore. She taxes everyone in her kingdom nearly everyday to pay for her lavish parties and beauty treatments, not caring that because of that so many people have lost their homes." Erza said.

"This is terrible. Surely King Hector would never allow this."

"No when he reigned we were all living lot better than this but ever since his death the queen has made it her mission to squeeze every last penny out of the entire kingdom."

"You don't know if the king is dead."

"Well he must be otherwise wouldn't he put a stop to what his wife is doing?"

"Yes but maybe...Maybe something happened. Maybe he was abducted or he's being held hostage somewhere."

"Or maybe he just abandoned us."

"How dare you! My father would never do such a thing!" Juvia said angrily.

"Your father?"

Juvia's anger was forgotten and she went silent when she realized that she let it slip that she was the king's daughter.

"Don't tell me that your father is King Hector."

"As a matter of fact he is."

"So does that mean Queen Minerva is your mother?"

"No she's my stepmother. My real mother was Queen Dianne, I don't suppose you remember her."

"I've never even heard of her."

"She was my father's first wife and the queen of Fiore before Minerva. She died almost as soon as I was born, I don't remember her."

"I'm sorry." Erza said. "I never knew my mother either, she died when I was only a year old."

"What about your father?"

"I never knew him either and as far as I know he's still alive but he wasn't exactly a good husband or father. Granny is pretty much the only family I have."

"Did she have any other children?"

"No my mother was her only child."

"What about her husband?"

"He died years ago, long before I was even born. I'm all she has left now and for as long as I can remember she's always been terrified that she'll lose me."

"I know the feeling. My father always feared that he'd lose me even after he remarried."

"If you really are the king's daughter then what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be in the castle?"

"My stepmother wants to kill me."

"Why?"

"I wish I knew. I really don't understand what happened to her because she used to be so kind and sweet but now she's just awful and I can't believe what she's been doing to my people. If my father knew of this he would be furious."

"With all due respect I'm sure that he's dead."

"I know that's what most people believe but somehow I know that he is still alive and one day he will come back."

"And what if he doesn't? What if he actually does turn out to be dead?"

Juvia sighed.

"If it comes to that then somehow I will stop my stepmother and become the new queen."

"You become the new queen?"

"Technically I am the rightful heir and if my father truly is gone then I should be the one to take his place."

"Good luck with that."

"Oh dear it's getting dark. I better get home. Goodbye Erza! Thank you for everything!"

"You're welcome! Hey be careful getting back home!"

"I will!"

Erza smiled as she watched the girl hurry home. She certainly was a very sweet and beautiful girl but she doubted that really was the king's daughter. Then again it wouldn't surprise her at all if Minerva really did try to kill her even if she was a princess.

"Well I better get home before Granny starts to worry."

But when Erza arrived at her house she found that there was an angry mob waiting for her.

"There she is! There's the witch!" A man pointed out.

And before she knew she was being grabbed, restrained, and brought before Reverend Hades who yanked down the hood of her shawl exposing her long blood red hair.

"Behold her hair which is the color of the devil!" He announced.

"Out of my way! Move aside!" It was Reverend Makarov who was pushing through the crowd to reach Hades and Erza. "Reverend Hades what in God's name is the meaning of this?"

"Reverend Makarov three people have been murdered by wolves in this village and the sister of one victims swears that she saw Erza speaking with the wolves."

"That's a lie!" Erza said.

"Silence witch!" Hades said slapping her. "It is clear that like her mother before her, Erza is a witch in lead with the cursed race and therefore also like her mother she must burn!"

"Reverend Hades this is insane! You're choosing one person's word over another! And we have no proof that she's a witch!"

"I think this hair is all the proof we need!" He said yanking her hair. "Prepare the fire!"

Erza struggled with all her might but she was out numbered and in the end she was dragged away. Reverend Makarov tried to stop them but he too ended up being restrained and dragged off somewhere.

"By morning this evil witch will die and we shall be free." Reverend Hades declared.

The mob cheered excitedly.

"Nooooo!" They heard a voice screech and everyone turned to see Titania rushing out of the house carrying a loaded crossbow only to be knocked down and held back by other villagers. "You can't do this to me! Not again! You monsters! You murders! You're killing an innocent woman! You're killing my grandchild!"

"Hysterical old woman! Lock her up!" Hades ordered.

"You'll pay for this! So help me God you'll pay for this!" She swore. "Somehow, by someone, you'll pay dearly for what you've done!"

[dfroza]

even writing from jail, Paul is able to communicate with us in his Letters

to unveil spiritual truth.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 3rd chapter of the Letter of Ephesians:

All this is exactly why I, Paul, am a prisoner of Jesus the Anointed, His representative to the outsider nations. You have heard, haven’t you, how God appointed me to bring you His message of grace? And how the mystery was made known to me in a revelation? I briefly wrote about it earlier. When you read what I have written, you will be better able to understand the depth of my insight into the mystery of the Anointed One, a mystery that has never before been shown to past generations. Only now are these secrets being revealed to God’s chosen emissaries and prophets through the Holy Spirit. Specifically, the mystery is this: by trusting in the good news, the Gentile outsiders are becoming fully enfranchised members of the same body, heirs alongside Israel, and beneficiaries of the promise that has been fulfilled through Jesus the Anointed.

I became a servant and preacher of this gospel by the gift of God’s grace as He exercised His amazing power over me. I cannot think of anyone more unworthy to this cause than I, the least of the least of the saints. But here I am, a grace-made man, privileged to be an echo of His voice and a preacher to all the nations of the riches of the Anointed One, riches that no one ever imagined. I am privileged to enlighten all of Adam’s descendants to the mystery concealed from previous ages by God, the Creator of all, through Jesus the Anointed. Here’s His objective: through the church, He intends now to make known His infinite and boundless wisdom to all rulers and authorities in heavenly realms. This has been His plan from the beginning, one that He has now accomplished through the Anointed One, Jesus our Lord. His faithfulness to God has made it possible for us to have the courage we need and the ability to approach the Father confidently. So I ask you not to become discouraged because I am jailed for speaking out on your behalf. In fact, my suffering is something that brings you glory.

It is for this reason that I bow my knees before the Father, after whom all families in heaven above and on earth below receive their names, and pray:

Father, out of Your honorable and glorious riches, strengthen Your people. Fill their souls with the power of Your Spirit so that through faith the Anointed One will reside in their hearts. May love be the rich soil where their lives take root. May it be the bedrock where their lives are founded so that together with all of Your people they will have the power to understand that the love of the Anointed is infinitely long, wide, high, and deep, surpassing everything anyone previously experienced. God, may Your fullness flood through their entire beings.

Now to the God who can do so many awe-inspiring things, immeasurable things, things greater than we ever could ask or imagine through the power at work in us, to Him be all glory in the church and in Jesus the Anointed from this generation to the next, forever and ever. Amen.

The Letter of Ephesians, Chapter 3 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 7th chapter of the book of Jeremiah about the importance of honesty before God and others:

“But instead, you are clinging to lies and illusions that are worthless.”

[Jeremiah 7]

The word of the Eternal came to Jeremiah.

Eternal One: Go now and take a stand for Me at the entrance to My temple. Proclaim there My message. Tell all the people of Judah who enter these gates to worship the Eternal to stop and listen to the word of the Eternal. Tell them this is what I, the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies and God of Israel, have to say:

“Change your ways and stop what you are doing, and I will let you live in this land. Do not rely on the misguided words, ‘The temple of the Eternal, the temple of the Eternal, the temple of the Eternal,’ as if the temple’s presence alone will protect you. But if you genuinely change your ways and stop what you are doing; if you deal with each other fairly; if you don’t oppress foreigners, orphans, and widows; if you don’t shed the blood of the innocent in this land; and if you don’t practice the self-destructive worship of other gods; then I will let you live forever in this land I promised your ancestors long ago.

“But instead, you are clinging to lies and illusions that are worthless. Do you think you can steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, make offerings to Baal, and chase after other gods and still expect Me to protect you? Do you think all it takes is for you to run back to Me in this house, which is called by My name, and say, ‘We’re safe now’? Does this somehow make it all right to do these vile things in front of Me? Do you think this house, which is called by My name, is a den of thieves? I see what you’re doing.

“Go and take notice of what happened in Shiloh, the place where I first met your ancestors in the tabernacle that bore My name. See what I did in response to the wickedness of My people, Israel. Now, because of all the evil you have done, and because when I spoke to you time and again you never listened, and because when I called your name you never answered, watch what I will do to this house which bears My name, this sacred place I gave to you and your fathers. I will do to this temple, where you have put your trust, what I did to Shiloh all those years ago. I will throw you from My presence, just as I did to all your kinsmen in the Northern Kingdom, the descendants of Ephraim.”

(to Jeremiah) Don’t pray or plead for these people. No matter how badly you want to come to Me on their behalf, don’t bother. For I won’t hear such cries from you. Can’t you see what’s happening in the villages throughout Judah and even in the streets of Jerusalem? The children gather the firewood, the fathers tend the fire, and the mothers bake the bread for the so-called queen of heaven! The people pour out drink offerings in honor of other gods as if to spite Me. What they are doing doesn’t hurt me; it only hurts them, to their own disgrace. Now hear what I, the Eternal Lord, declare: “The heat of My anger will pour out on this land, on man and beast, on the trees of the field and the fruit of the soil. My wrath will burn through this place and not be quenched.

This is what the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies and God of Israel, has to say:

Eternal One: Treat your burnt offerings the way you treat other sacrifices. Go ahead and eat the meat yourselves. I won’t have any part of it. When I freed your ancestors from slavery in Egypt, burnt offerings and sacrifices were not something I required of them. I wanted them to trust Me and obey My voice. In those early days, I told them, “I will be your God, and you will be My people. Follow Me every step of the way into a life that is good.” But they didn’t trust Me. They didn’t obey My voice. They refused to listen to Me. Instead they followed the plans of their own stubborn hearts. Each step was a step backward, not forward. From the time your ancestors left Egypt until now, I have shown them the way to a better life. Day after day, I sent all of My servants, the prophets, to speak the truth. But did any of them listen or pay attention? Did they change their ways? No, they only hardened their resolve to go their own way. Each generation has done more evil than the generation before.

(to Jeremiah) This is how I want you to speak to the people—say it all, don’t hold anything back—but they won’t hear you. Your voice will call throughout the land, but no one will answer you. And so you will say to them, “This is the nation that dared not obey the voice of the Eternal, their one True God. This is the people who would not be taught.” Truth has died and disappeared from their very lips.

Shave your head and throw your hair away, for it is time to mourn.

Climb the hills and grieve for the darkness has gone too far.

The Eternal has rejected His faithless people;

He has forsaken this generation that has stirred up His wrath.

For the people of Judah have done what is plainly evil right in front of Me. They have brought their revolting idols into My temple! They have desecrated this place that stands in honor of My name. They have built shrines to other gods at Topheth, the garbage dump in the valley of Ben-hinnom, where they sacrifice their own sons and daughters and burn them in the fire to dark and pagan gods. I never taught them to do such unspeakable evil; it never even crossed My mind. But I tell you this: the days are coming when that place will no longer be known as Topheth, or the garbage dump in the valley of Ben-hinnom. But it will be called the valley of Slaughter, for they will bury the bodies of those who sacrifice children there until there is no more room. The remains of these wicked people will feed the vultures of the sky and wild animals of the earth because no one will be there to scare them away. I will silence the sounds of laughter and joy from the villages of Judah to the streets of Jerusalem. Even the joy of a wedding will not be heard in this land of ruin.

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 7 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, August 20 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about (A new covenant of grace):

The Torah of Moses teaches that a defect-free male lamb should be sacrificed and roasted at the appointed time every year, eaten with matzah and bitter herbs, as a memorial of the redemption from Egypt (Num. 9:2, Deut. 16:1-8) -- yet today, after the ministry and sacrificial death of Yeshua as the Lamb of God, we no longer perform the sacrificial rite of the Passover given to the Levites on behalf of Israel. We do not do this because we have a greater priesthood based on the sworn oath of God that predates the Levitical priesthood in the life of the Messiah (Psalm 110:4). This is explained in the Book of Hebrews, chapter seven, which explains that "if perfection had been attainable through the Levitical priesthood (for under it the people received the law), what further need would there have been for another priest to arise after the order of Melchizedek, rather than one named after the order of Aaron? But when there is a change in the priesthood, there is necessarily a change in the law as well" (Heb. 7:11-12). The bottom line is that the new covenant of God centers on the sacrificial ministry of Yeshua as our Great High Priest, and this covenant provided a new way that was "not according to the covenant made with the fathers at Sinai after the Exodus" to be in right relationship with God (Jer. 31:31-34; Heb. 8:1-13). "And when Messiah had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. For by one offering He has perfected forever those being sanctified" (Heb. 10:14).

So it is clear - if you believe the message of the gospel - that God has abolished the role of animal sacrifice in the law of Moses through the death of his Son as our eternal atonement (Heb. 9:12-15). "Because the law (of sacrifice) made nothing perfect, a better hope is introduced, and that is how we draw near to God" (Heb. 7:19). The veil of separation has been torn in the body of our Lord (Matt. 27:51; Mark 15:38; Heb. 10:12); and through the intercession and mediation of Yeshua, we now have direct access to the presence of God by faith (Heb. 4:16). The great prophesy of Caiaphas was fulfilled: " it is better for you that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish" (John 11:49-50). Yeshua himself is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but for the whole world" (1 John 2:1-2; Rom. 3:25). As the Lawgiver of Reality, the LORD has the power and authority to introduce a "new covenant," and indeed were it not for that great blessing we would have no means of eternal redemption under the law. Yeshua "takes away the first covenant that he might establish the second" (see Heb. 10:4-18).

But what about other aspects of the law of Moses besides sacrifices? To begin answering that question, we must distinguish between the idea of "law" and the idea of "covenant." The law, or Torah, of the LORD means something more than the words of the covenant given at Sinai. Torah is rightly understood as God's direction or teaching regarding how to be in right relationship with him. That is the Apostle Paul's point in the book of Galatians where he points to Abraham as one who kept God's Torah 400 years before the time of Sinai. Abraham obeyed God's Torah before the time of giving of the covenant at Sinai! That said, there is a relationship between a divine "covenant" (or "agreement") and the law, though the idea of covenant is more basic, and Torah is understood as our response to the underlying covenant. Torah, then, is a "function word" of covenant, expressing our obligations - ritual, moral, spiritual, etc., - in relation to that covenant. Where this may get confusing is that while both Moses' teaching is Torah, and Yeshua's teaching is Torah, and while there is overlap and continuity in moral and spiritual application, the Sinai covenant and the covenant of the Cross at Zion are mutually exclusive ways to attain atonement before God, and that is why followers of Yeshua do not offer animal sacrifices for their sins, etc., even though the sacrificial system itself assuredly bore witness to the coming of the great Lamb of God (Rom. 3:21; Num. 28:3). The same point can be made regarding other aspects of the teachings of Moses such as various religious and civil laws, laws of warfare and capital punishment, laws regarding "clean and unclean" (ritual purity), dietary law, and so on. The "weightier" matters of the law given at Sinai are preserved and incorporated into the new covenant, as the law provided a "pattern" or "analogy" of what was to come (Heb. 10:1), yet the ritual laws of sacrifice are now abolished by the new and better covenant of the Messiah (see Heb. 8:6).

So you see, followers of Messiah must be philosophers of sorts, that is, those who think deeply about the underlying meaning and purpose of God as revealed in the Scriptures. After all, Yeshua often taught in parables and used metaphors in his teaching (Matt. 13:35; John 6:35, 8:12, 10:9-11, etc.). When he said that he was “the door,” he didn’t expect us to look for a door knob on him (John 10:7-9)! When he warned his followers about the “leaven” of the religious leaders, he chided his disciples for thinking about material bread (Matt. 16:5-12). Indeed Yeshua was often exasperated with his followers for missing the point (Matt. 15:6; Luke 24:25-26). He regularly spoke of the "mysteries of the kingdom of God" (Luke 8:10; Mark 4:11). He taught his followers how to see the meaning of the redemption, of true healing, and of God's kingdom. "The wisdom of God is given in a mystery, even the hidden wisdom, which God ordained before the world for our glory" (1 Cor. 2:7; Rom. 16:25-26). We must learn to reason analogically and rightly divide (ὀρθοτομέω, i.e., "cut straight") the word of truth (2 Tim. 2:15). "We impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual" (1 Cor. 2:13). We discern the "weightier" matters of the Torah to center on God's love for his people and his salvation given in Yeshua our Messiah. He is the Light of the world, the Bread of Life, and our Good Shepherd. Amen: He is the way and the truth and the life of God given for us. [Hebrew for Christians]

8.19.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

August 20, 2021

The Lord Jehovah

“Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid: for the LORD JEHOVAH is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation.” (Isaiah 12:2)

The English name usually written LORD in English Bibles stems from the Hebrew word Yahweh, the meaning of which cannot be fully put into words. Although scholars differ (some even claiming there is no real meaning to the word at all), the consensus is that it seems to be a compound of the three tenses of the Hebrew verb “to be,” implying the ever-living nature of God to which Christ was referring when He said, “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty” (Revelation 1:8). Note also the similar implications in God’s announcement of Himself to Moses: “And God said unto Moses, I Am That I Am” (Exodus 3:14).

On 49 special occasions (seven times seven), the name Jehovah is contracted to Jah. Many consider this to be an abbreviation of Jehovah, but no satisfactory explanation as to why it is so used has been offered. Perhaps a better suggestion is that this name is the present tense of the verb “to be,” and therefore the name Jah emphasizes the present activity of the Lord. In nearly all occurrences, the passages are strengthened by noting the present work of God. The first usage of the term Jah is found in Miriam’s Song upon deliverance from Pharaoh’s army and the Red Sea. “The LORD [Jah] is my strength and song, and he is become my salvation” (Exodus 15:2).

On several occasions, such as in our text, we see that the two names are combined, celebrating both the present and future deliveries of Jah Jehovah. “Trust ye in the LORD [Jehovah] for ever: for in the LORD [Jah] JEHOVAH is everlasting strength” (Isaiah 26:4). JDM

[amemericans]

what anime recs do you have an anime n00b

under a read more because the list is long and we added extra commentary because we’re just that extra

anon i hope you’re happy exposing us for the weebs that we are

j’s sidenote: i usually read more manga but fortunately, some of the ones i read have anime!! 

Shoujo

Cardcaptor Sakura

J: if you’re looking for a magical girl type of anime, this is it!!! kinomoto sakura is precious i hope you love her and her lesbian best friend tomoyo. please don’t watch the US dub “cardcaptors”…it’s an insult.

Yona of the Dawn / Akatsuki no Yona

J: sheltered princess gets kicked out of the castle, is involved in a prophecy, and then lots of action because why not? also i love yona 

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-Kun (GSNK) / Monthly Girl’s Nozaki-Kun

J: even if you say you’re an anime n00b, you probably have an understanding of shoujo tropes. too bad this breaks all the stereotypes!! it’ll make you laugh, i guarantee. characters are as clueless as hoshi is with technology and i’m sure all of them will never be in a relationship.

Ao Haru Ride / Blue Spring Ride

J: if GSNK breaks all the shoujo tropes, this one has all of them!!!! even so, it’s still pretty good- i bet you woozi can make a song or two from this anime (though i know his main muse will be full moon wo sagashite- also a good anime!)

Orange

J: slice-of-life anime about a group of friends who try to save one of their own. prepare tissues.

Ouran High School Host Club

J: if you love seventeen and their dynamic, you’ll love this too!! shoutout to my girl haruhi for dealing with all of the host club’s shit.

Your Lie in April

V: A male pianist and a female violinist play music together. also prepare tissues…you’ll understand the meaning of the anime title at the very last episode lol.

Ore Monogatari / My Love Story

J: this is…really…the purest love story…you just have to watch it, seriously…it’s as pure as seventeen adore u, mansae, and pretty u eras

Sports

Haikyuu!! (a personal fav of seventeen!)

J: be prepared to binge watch this because i know i did!! it’s a heartwarming story with lots of nicely-placed (and not forced) comedy. but i mean, it’s volleyball. **seungkwan endorses it**

Kuroko no Basuke

J: has the most cliche shit in a sports anime (i’ve watched like 5 sports anime so idk how accurate this statement is). friendship!!! teamwork!!! ridiculous basketball powers!!! but we can overcome everything when we work hard!!!

Yuuri On Ice!!!

J: ice skating anime. VERY GAY. no queerbaiting here- it’s GAY AS FUCK. you really have to admire and root for our main boy yuuri here though. he is truly a precious katsudon

Chihayafuru

J: at first glace, it MAY look like shoujo, but our main girl chihaya over here is 120% focused on karuta. because who needs boys who are in an unrequited love with you right?? still has the power of friendship and teamwork, which is always a must in sports anime!!

Shounen

Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood

J: personally picking this over the earlier version of FMA only because this follows more closely to the canon (manga) storyline. it really does have a wonderful storyline with rich characters and great development and you’ll feel satisfied with the story when you finish it

Hunter x Hunter (2011 but i have a soft spot for the older ver too)

J: this one has a little bit of everything: friendship, teamwork, sports, magical abilities, ~family~ (the main 4 are family don’t fight me on this), beautifully written characters, great storylines, a creepy ass clown,

Bungou Stray Dogs

J: um joshua personally recommended this so you should watch it. MC works in a detective agency that has staff with *abilities*. definitely lots of action. fun fact: the characters are named after famous people in literature and their abilities are named after their work! the first arc of season 2 is a personal favorite of mine

Code Geass

J: basically tells the story of a revolution against the current government. our main boy here, (sometimes douchey) lelouche pretty much leads the revolution accompanied by an ability he acquired- his geass. very mecha and has fighting robots action!!

Death Note

J: an even bigger douche than lelouche, light yagami is out to reform the current justice system by taking it upon himself to play god. someone give him an oscar for his performance honestly this bitch really knows how to act

My Hero Academy

V: high school students with super powers and they go to school to learn how to become heroes! easily became one of my favorite shounen anime. every student is precious except that one grape-looking dude

Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan

J: we have another hot-blooded male protagonist over here!!! my boy eren just has a simple dream- to kill all the titans that ever existed because they ruined his life!!! is it really too much to ask for?

One Punch Man

J: this follows the story of saitama, who just wants to be a hero and save people’s lives. he’s bored because, well, he’s overpowered. you’ll get a lot of laughs here, definitely

Tokyo Ghoul (the whole show censored the gore but you can find the uncensored version too)

V: Ghouls basically look like humans but their diet is limited to humans and coffee only (they can’t eat human food). The ghouls need to kill humans to eat but humans want to live so they fight back. It shows the story of both sides so you feel sorry for both of them lol…and so my boy kaneki just wanted to go on a date but his life turned upside down after that.

Noragami

J: we’re dealing with the supernatural this time! my girl hiyori suddenly becomes involved with the gods, which is kind of awesome but also awful. also the gods are so very human in the sense that they cause so much shit. you probably don’t want them ruling your planet or something

Parasyte: Maxim

J: in this world, there’s an organism/parasite that invades your body and takes over it, killing you instantly. sometimes, things don’t go as planned, and the parasite and the human have to coexist, guess what happens to our main character….

Psycho Pass

J: in a dystopian future, there’s a technology that actually predicts your probability of becoming a criminal/endangering humanity. that technology in itself is already the problem….

Moribito

V: set in a fantasy, historical Asia. my girl Balsa can easily beat up 1000 men while guarding a child prince. interesting plot, beautiful animation, and an amazing main character!!

D.Gray Man

J: hey there demons, it’s me, ya exorcist!!! demon-hunting adventures with lots of friendship in between and you’ll fall in love with these character i swear!! a+ humor as well honestly i love these kids

Blue Exorcist

V: hey there demons, it’s me, another exorcist! half-human/half-demon boy goes to school to learn how to become an exorcist to defeat demons and most importantly: Satan

Thriller

Erased (We recommend the live action too! it follows the manga more accurately. It’son Netflix)

J: murder mystery where our MC has this ability to rewind time and fix any bad things that were about to happen. one day, he gets transported back and ends up having to figure out on who murdered one of his classmates. really keeps you on the edge of your seat and the music is spot on!!

Another

J: in a seriously haunted classroom, there’s always one extra person who had died but is present with them, every year it’s someone different and the class has to figure out on who the dead one is before……bad things…

Terror In Resonance

V: two teenage boys commit terrorist attacks on Tokyo and they somehow get a girl involved in their crimes

Movies

Kimi no Na Wa

V: JunHao’s My I was inspired by this!!! I don’t want to spoil too much, you just have to watch it! beautiful animation, beautiful characters. the story makes a lot more sense if you watch it the second time.

Studio Ghibli movies

The Girl who Leapt Through Time

[albatris]

hey

here's that aforementioned lengthy post

which I have returned to and edited at least six times to add new things and tweak bits

anyway

last year I messed around with this idea for kai’s backstory but was like “nah” and this week I randomly thought of it again and was like “holy shit why did I brush that off it's actually perfect"

anyway, kai’s backstory, and rambling,

and a serious fuckload of spoilers,

under the cut

man okay so when I originally messed round with this idea it was just for fun, and the idea was that at some stage or another, Kai got stuck in a time loop. like maybe they went into a cool abandoned house for like twenty minutes and came back out and a bunch of years had passed

and I messed around with this because in ATDAO there’s a stupid running joke that because Kai travels a lot and is this ridiculous charismatic person, they have a ton of weird connections in all sorts of places, and there’s this fuckin…… running joke in the team that you can strike up a conversation with any random stranger and they’ll have a weird Kai story, or they’ll know someone who knows someone who has a weird Kai story

and that Kai has some sort of urban legend cryptid status in a lot of places, because everyone knows Kai, but no one knows a goddamn thing about Kai. Kai just appears out of nowhere and no one knows where they came from or what they do or even their last name. they’re just this chaotic force of nature who rocks up one day and vanishes a week later

and if you add a time loop to the equation suddenly you’ve also got all these absurd immortal Kai rumours floating around. You’ve got people going “I swear I met this kid like ten years ago but they haven’t aged at all?? like I have photos of them??? they’re still a teenager??” and of course Kai would think it’s hilarious and would play it up every chance they get

the reason I was like “nah” was because Shara and Kai knew each other as kids, and if you add a time loop into that in any manner, it fucks up a whole lot of backstory

but I was thinking about it again and I’m going to make some compelling arguments for Time Loop Kai and most of them are not, in fact, fun things at all

so ok

so Kai has been out of contact with their family for ages, and I don’t think I ever explained the original reasoning for this, and I’m not going to now because it would make this post too long, but consider

you just drop off the face of the earth for like seven years. your family probably thinks you died or ditched them or hate them or whatever. all your younger siblings are now older than you. a lot of shit can change in that amount of time. how the fuck do you come back into that picture. like. you haven’t changed at all

(you come back into that picture very very easily and with a lot of crying but listen. fuck. Kai has been putting it off for like a year. it’s kind of an ordeal. they don’t know how anyone will react. they’re really scared about it. ok)

(and that’s absolutely something that gets tackled in the main plot. for sure)

(I’m actually really glad I can tie that in, it’s good, I'm happy with it)

Kai travels a lot and hardly ever stays in one place for more than a month, and the reasoning for this was always because they don’t like becoming attached to places or people because it's just.... super risky business, y’know.... they had a home and a really happy family growing up and then they just didn’t anymore, and that really really really shook them a lot

so it's not like they don’t care about anything or anyone, because they do, they go all sorts of places and make friends and keep in contact, but like. what's the point in planning for the future, what's the point in long term goals or close friendships, one day it's all just going to vanish again. one day you're just gonna wake up back in the real world and none of this will count for anything

so yah I guess Kai lives most of their life on some level just kinda. waiting for it to be over, expecting it to be over, one day it's just gonna click

which, of course, is kinda just whatever when ur just up and moving place ever other week and never sticking round long enough to put down roots or make close relationships

but when you have actual friends and you meet your family again and you start being Properly Happy and and you have things to lose and you start thinking, hey, what would a future look like, what would a future really look like

and how can you be the kind of selfish person who plans for a future and keeps friends and is happy, how can you be the kind of person who deep deep down wants to stay here, how do you justify that when you know that somewhere your Real Friends and your Real Family could still be just. wondering what the fuck happened to you

y'know, it's not fun,

but blah blah spoilers blah this is getting far too into Actual Character Arcs and Development that happens during the story itself

so anyway

and then

and THEN

not that I’ll probably bring it up in-story in any overly overhanded way, it would do an awful lot to explain Kai’s tendency of just………. saying the most nonsense cryptic shit and following it up with “haha you know how it is” and everyone being like dude…….. no….. what are you talking about ever

people brush it off as just Kai being Kai, y’know, Kai’s eccentric and makes weird jokes, whatever, but I mean

the world probably makes frighteningly little sense to Kai. Like for the others, the apocalypse more or less eased in. For Kai it would have been a jump from “yeah idk weird shit is happening and it’s becoming more frequent” in some sort of abstract sense, something that happens Other Places, straight to “the fabric of reality is coming undone under our feet and everything is fucked good luck everyone” overnight

to Kai there is probably no system at all, the world is just full of objectively horrifying nonsense with no rhyme or reason whatsoever

and I mean!!!! Kai probably has a really difficult time feeling like anything is real, and a really difficult time being certain that any of this is happening and they’re not just stuck somewhere losing years of reality without realising

which is terrible. like that’s actually just really terrible

but anyway, on a lighter note, consider:

- kai attempting to order food from fast food places and getting personally offended when they're like "we haven't had that item on our menu for five years"

- kai randomly slipping into speech with weird slang no one uses anymore

- did kai's van get stuck in the time loop with them or did it just sit there for god knows how many years and somehow still start when kai got out

- this van somehow still running even though it's ancient and wheezing and held together by duct tape is another running joke so the answer is of course it sat there for years and still works

- does kai have a valid drivers license though

- what was that application process like

- "listen, I'm 18 years old, I know my ID is from--no, wait, listen, I stopped existing in the linear flow of time, listen--"

thanks for coming to my ted talk and fuck time loops

[realchemistry]

Star Wars Review

There are things I have never seen in my life that everyone’s seen. Marvel movies were one of those once upon a time. So was Star Wars.

I never watched the so-called prequels when they were first out, I guess because of a mix of being taken to watch other movies instead (don’t even ask), and my being into other stuff. Also, I tend to save some things for rainy days (like the LOST epilogue, which I haven’t watched yet — can’t let go!), but I’m not sure why I kept pushing Star Wars back.

Somehow, it became a thing I’d watch once I graduated. And I did that in July. So, naturally, I waited till mid-November to get on with it.

What follows is a review of the entire saga and The Last Jedi, so there are spoilers after the cut.

The sequels

They were so much fun. I still can’t believe a mind can come up with all of that, to make up a world so rich and real, and to make it look the part.

Thinking that it was done 40 years ago only made it more magnificent, as the special effects and all of still looked pretty okay.

Of course I was spoiled for the big things, one cannot simply escape Star Wars, but to see it all play out was very much enjoyable.

Plus, let’s be real, all signs pointed at Lord Vader being Luke’s father, so...

Character-wise, I freaking loved Luke so much. It was distracting that he looked just like Seb, but such is life.

Leia and Han were close behind, truly. As was R2-D2, one of the cutest androids in the galaxy!

One minor issue to me was that I did wish we knew more about all of them — it felt like we knew them, but we didn’t know about them.

The prequels*

Anakin, oh, Anakin! He was such a cutie as a kid, why did he have to grow up?

Honestly, these were not as much fun, but I and III had stuff going for them. The first one because it was seeing this world from a different perspective, in a different time, meeting new people, learning more about how everything works and where it all started. The third one because it’s the conclusion, and though you knew how it’d end, it’s still powerful to see it all come together.

I wanna highlight that, interestingly enough, I believe the prequels were the first step towards answering some of those issues I had mentioned. It’s not that we learned about the characters specifically, but knowing where they were coming from definitely made a difference and added to their cause.

Cast-wise, I think they might have made a few mistakes there, but Ewan, I love with all my heart always.

*Prequel is not a proper word because the prefix “se-” is not a thing, and neither is the root “quel” and I hate it, I had to say that. I’m all for descriptivism, but this one bugs the hell outta me!

The Force Awakens

SO MUCH FUN. Sure, it was a repeat of A New Hope in more ways than one, but they managed to make it feel like a homage, and they added LOTS of cool things, and funny bits, and heart.

Poe. Dameron. I fucking love Oscar so fucking much and so I loved Poe and his fucking beautiful face was so pretty all the time. Best damn pilot, captain of my heart, I love him forever and ever.

REY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She’s so important, okay? Watching the sequels, it’s particularly jarring how there were men everywhere all the time, and Leia’s pretty much the only woman in the galaxy. They tried to make it better with the prequels, but it wasn’t all it should’ve. Here, they put a woman front and center, and Leia’s there too, as are others. Not enough, not quite, but getting there.

Finn, I had so many feels!!! Like, he defected, and there was Poe. And Poe gave him a name, and the jacket (it was coming, but fucking Oscar and his face made it a million times better), and they’re love. Finn’s trying to get out of a bad situation that he didn’t want in the first place, and ended up being a hero and just FINN!!! I think his name sums it up.

Seeing Chewie, Han and Leia back felt emotional even though it hadn’t been 40 years for me. The movie did so well by them, but I was so incredibly sad for Han and Leia and how their lives turned out.

And then I was sad because FUCKING KYLO REN killed Han. Like, there’s no going back. There was no going back before, because he tortured my baby Poe and Rey, but this was it. No coming back, no redemption, nothing. I’m not sure why, but I don’t care for Adam Driver at all, so that didn’t help the slightest bit.

In this sense, I gotta highlight that Vader, as scary as he was supposed to be, never really messed with our people in this way. So while he was the bad guy, killing planets and all, he hadn’t done anything to characters we cared about until he fought Luke... and we know how that one turned out.

Oh, and then there was LUKE, BACK and cloaked, AND I SCREAMED.

Rogue One

This movie hurt my feelings so much. I kept trying to place it within the Star Wars world, and the moment I figured when it was located... Not a good thing to figure out.

So many great characters, it’s honestly such a shame that we only got a little bit of time with them.

At the same time, it was amazing to see how the Rebellion started, the why and the who and all that.

Jyn and Cassian were so great together. I don’t even mean romantically, just, so good, and I can’t believe they were taken from us.

Bodhi is the second greatest pilot in the galaxy and I loved him.

I sorta wish there had been more female characters, it felt like a step back in that sense.

Learning that the bad guy, Ben Mendelsohn, was a Star Wars superfan was the most hilarious and awesome thing.

This time around, Darth Vader was truly scary as hell.

The end was both awfully sad and entirely... hopeful. *wink-wink*

The Last Jedi

Poe started the whole thing being his badass, awesome self, so I was immediately hooked. He continued being all of this and more. Give me a minute to ask: how is he so pretty, I don’t even understand anything. I’m just so glad he made it out alive cause I would’ve started shit right then and there if he hadn’t. He also grew as a person, and we got to know him a bit more. Not enough, but I’ll take what I can get.

Seeing Luke so isolated, blaming himself, that was really sad. I wish he and Rey had spent more time together. Much like Rey described it, Luke’s death wasn’t sad, and it looked peaceful... but I think part of it had to do with what had just happened with Finn.

Finn was back, and being lovely and clueless, and a smart hero. I swear to fucking god, I was about to burst into ugly crying when Rose saved the day.

So when Luke died, at first I was wondering if he really had, and then I was just... I don’t know. I guess I had panicked so much because Finn had a lot to do still, and it wasn’t fair for him to die. Whereas maybe Luke had served his purpose and lived his life well enough. Not to say that I’m happy about it, or that I don’t wanna see him, cause I expect to see Mark show up Kenobi-style in the next one!

One Skywalker twin standing. Every scene with Carrie was so hard to watch. I really need Mark there next movie, he has to be.

When Yoda showed up, everyone was in awe. It was a good thing.

Rose was awesome all throughout, but particularly so when she saved Finn, can we keep her?

I really wish Rey hadn’t been so removed from everything and everyone, but I get it, it needed to be like that for the plot to work. I’m glad her parents were not a person we know, after all, we already had a bit of incest, no need for everyone to know everyone. I didn’t enjoy Rey’s connection with Kylo at all, just ewww, no. I hope she learned her lesson there for good and I can’t wait to see her being the Jedi.

I was so mad when I thought the film wanted to redeem Kylo Ren (I say his full villain name cause I hate him and I’m two). Like NO, it wasn’t gonna happen, not ever. I was entirely relieved when they stopped that.

Kylo and Hux acted like children. I laughed.

Laura Dern!!!!!! I was so mad at her for going againt my most beautiful and precious pilot, but she did good at the end.

Chewie was like Steve from Stranger Things with all his adopted ~children, it’s law.

The action was all the time, all around, non-stop. It was crazy good! But also really bad cause the Resistance is barely a thing!

The parallels with our world were not even subtle, and I’m glad because the world is an awful place these day. If at least one person’s gonna come out thinking things through, then that’s a good thing we should all celebrate.

Like I said with Rey, I wish the characters hadn’t been so divided all the time, but the story needed that. However, it was insane that Poe and Rey only really met at the end of this one! (Was that a meet-cute? Cause, like... “I know”?) My guess is that the next one will have less of that and more of everyone together. Or maybe that’s just what I want.

I can’t wait for more!